Disclaimer: I don't own the Fifty Shades Trilogy, but I'd love to own Christian Grey!
AN: this was just a funny idea that came to me…not sure where this will go, though I don't expect this will be an epic length fic or anything. I'm still thinking of all my other works, but I have to work on whatever strikes me.
"You'll do fine, stop worrying!" Kate said for the millionth time through the phone as Ana's knee bounced up and down nervously.
"What if I fail? This counts for fifty percent of my grade!" Ana whined as she peered around the staff room in the back of the salon.
"You're not going to fail. You're good at what you do, just try to relax." Kate said soothingly in her best attempt at talking Anna down
Ana huffed loudly, "What if I'm too rough? Knowing my luck, I'll end up assigned to some jerk who would just love to complain about getting a free massage. Either that, or it'll be the old guy with the questionable skin condition."
Kate snorted, "Well, questionable skin conditions aside, just do your best. I know you're good at this, I've been your guinea pig for the last year, remember?"
Ana blew out the breath that she had been holding, "You're right. It'll be fine."
Just then, the owner of salon where Ana had been told she would be taking her practical, stepped into the staff room with her arms folded over her chest expectantly.
"I have to go Kate, wish me luck!" Ana whispered quickly before ending the call and slipping her phone back into her pocket.
"Anastasia Steele?"
"Yes, that's me." Ana said quickly, taking a step towards the frowning blond woman who was clearly in the middle of judging her based on her appearance.
"Your appointment has arrived. He's in room ten." The woman, who had introduced herself simply as 'Elena', said sharply as Ana nodded and began to head towards the staff room door.
"Oh and Miss Steele? He's a very important client here at Esclava. Make sure he's satisfied; because if he's not, I'll be speaking with your instructor."
"Of course" Ana said quickly, forcing herself to keep the polite smile firmly in place lest she roll her eyes at the woman's high handedness.
"Best not keep him waiting, then." The woman snapped before turning on her heels and striding from the room.
Ugh. Probably some old rich guy then.
Ana had already changed into the customary short black dress that all the employees wore at Esclava; and pulled her hair back into a messy French twist held up by a clip she stole from Kate on her way out that morning. Despite her chosen profession, she couldn't imagine having to actually work in a place like this; it screamed 'pretentious'. Becoming a massage therapist was something she decided she wanted to do out of a deep sense of wanting to help people on a physical as well as spiritual level; after reading a book about the healing power of touch, she came to understand that sensory therapy has been found to significantly improve the lives of those not only suffering from physical injuries, but those with emotional ones as well.
As she approached the door to room ten along the dimly lit hallway, she gave a soft knock to be sure her client was ready.
"Enter", came a male voice.
The room was dark, which was normal for an upscale spa such as this, with soft soothing flute music flowing in through mounted speakers on the wall. It took her a moment for her eyes to adjust to the low light, as her eyes made out the shape of a male body lying face down on the massage table, his lower half covered by the crisp linen sheet. From what she could see, he was much younger than what she had been expecting, and very toned.
She took her place in front of him, as she grasped the bottle of massage oil and coated her hands to warm it before running her fingers along his neck.
"Mmmmm." He groaned as soon as she began exerting medium pressure with her thumbs from the base of his skull and out towards his shoulders. She had to bite back a smirk as she continued; silently thanking God that he had neither psoriasis, nor back acne.
She continued working her hands down his back until she reached the bed sheet.
"Keep going." He said suddenly, startling her for a moment and making her freeze with her hands on his lower back.
"I'm sorry?" she said softly suddenly nervous that she had done something wrong.
"I said keep going." He repeated, not bothering to lift his head.
Her heart began to pound in her chest. He wanted her to massage his ass?
Knowing that she had only seconds to make a decision, she decided to go for it and pulled the sheet further down exposing his backside to her.
It was perfect. His ass was perfect.
She added another dab of massage oil to her hands, and placed them once more at his lower back as she slowly worked them lower, kneading his ass cheeks with her hands, and trying not to let the absurd thought take root in her brain that yes, if she were in fact a fully licensed massage therapist, she would be getting paid to rub a hot guy's ass cheeks.
She continued down his legs, paying special attention to his calves and finally his feet. She had to bite the inside of her cheek when she swiped her thumb over the sole of his foot, and he jerked his foot away from her with a snort.
He was apparently ticklish too.
"Sorry" he muttered quickly, most likely embarrassed.
"It happens all the time." She lied, hoping it would help him relax.
Once she finished his other leg, she worked her way back up, smirking to herself as she once again massaged his ass and up his back. She gently extended his arm across her lap, and worked her fingers over his bicep, down towards his elbow, continuing down to his hand. Holding his hand gently in hers, she rubbed and soothed each finger, and then began to move back up his arm.
As she reached his shoulder, she felt his fingers begin to move over the skin of her outer thigh. At first, she thought it was merely a reflex as she worked certain muscle groups, but no; he was definitely stroking her thigh.
She had another mini freak out about what to do, until she reached down and removed his hand from her leg and placed it back against his body as she moved to the other side, choosing not to acknowledge his forwardness.
Once she finished massaging his other side, she instructed him to turn over so that she could continue. She had heard stories from a few of her classmates about how men could sometimes become aroused during a massage, but she had personally never experienced that, until today that is.
As he settled back into position on the massage table, her eyes were immediately drawn to the large bulge hidden just below the sheet.
Holy fuck.
She averted her eyes, deciding that now would be a very good time to add more oil to her hands. She grasped the bottle of oil in her hands and let out a shaky breath, as she squirted some of it into her palm.
Keep it together, Steele.
When she looked down at his face, her heart skidded to a stop.
Oh my god.
Lying on the table with a rather impressive erection was none other than Christian Grey, the Billionaire CEO of Grey Enterprises, Holdings. The very same Christian Grey that she had fantasized about on more than a few occasions while she got herself off.
"Is there a problem?" she heard him say as she suddenly noticed he was staring directly at her, while she gazed at him stupidly.
"N…No…Um, are there any areas in particular that you would like for me to focus on?" she asked mentally willing herself to not look at his huge erection.
The corner of his lips twitched knowingly, as he watched her bite her lip in embarrassment, "My quads."
She blushed, giving a quick nod, and moved down the length of the table so that she was standing beside his waist. Trying to be as professional as possible, she moved the sheet up from his feet, careful to keep his crotch covered, and began to massage his upper thighs.
"Mmmmm…"
When he groaned again, she pressed her thighs together and bit her lip, unable to stop thinking about how else she could get him to make noises like that. She was pretty sure these last thirty minutes would be enough to fuel her fantasies for months.
As she used her thumbs to knead his quads, she was keenly aware that his still hard cock was mere inches away from her hand. Try as she might, she couldn't not look at it.
As her eyes shifted away from the impressive bulge hidden just below the sheet, she inhaled sharply when she noticed he was watching her, the corners of his lips turned up into a smirk.
Fuck. He totally caught me staring at his cock.
"What's your name?"
Oh God. He's going to report me. Shit!
"Um…Ana…Anastasia Steele." She said quickly, making it a point to focus on what she was supposed to be doing.
"I've never seen you here before. Are you new?" He asked, still watching her intently.
"Uh, no…I'm still a student. This is my Practical." She answered, not sure if she should be engaging in conversation with him, considering he was here for a massage.
"You're being graded on this?" he asked again, his eyebrow quirking up in amusement.
"Yes. Did I pass?" she answered cheekily, glancing up at him shyly from beneath her lashes as she continued to massage him.
"Well that all depends, Anastasia…" he said giving her a look that made her clit throb.
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she stared at him, wondering if he could possibly be implying what she hoped he was.
"On?" she questioned breathily, as she imagined several different scenarios in her head, all of which involved him fucking her over this massage table.
"On whether or not you choose to accept my offer."
Wait, what?
"Offer?" she asked questioningly
"I'd like to hire you."
She blinked in surprise, "But I haven't got my license yet…" she answered as she moved her hands down to his foot once again.
"A minor detail that can be worked out. I want you."
Holy fucking shit. I want you too, Mister Grey…
"Ok." was all she could manage as her heart beat wildly in her chest. Was this really happening? Had the most gorgeous man on the planet really just asked her to be his personal masseuse?
"Good."
As the massage came to an end, she pulled the sheet back down to cover his legs and feet, feeling both elated that he had offered her a job, and slightly disappointed that he hadn't asked for a happy ending…not that she'd ever considered giving one before.
"I'll be right outside with some water, whenever you're ready, Mister Grey." She said in what she hoped was a seductive tone, and slipped out the door, willing her heart to slow its frantic beating. Christ on a cracker that man was hot!
When the door opened a few moments later, her breath caught in her throat at how sexy he looked in a suit and tie. Sure she had seen photos of him like this, but none of them had done him any justice as he stepped towards her to take the bottle of Fiji water she offered. As he grasped the bottle in her hand, his fingers danced purposefully over her knuckles, and she bit down on her bottom lip as a pulse of desire coursed through her.
"I'm staying at the Heathman for the week. I'd like for you to come by tonight around seven; we can get the paperwork out of the way, and then I can show you exactly what I want." He said as he handed her his business card.
She nodded dumbly, still too aroused to speak, and tucked the card in her pocket.
"You have no idea how many massage parlors I've been to in the Portland area…Where have you been?"
"In school…" she whispered.
He guzzled the last of his water like a starved, or in this case a parched, man, and winked at her before he turned and walked down the hall towards the lobby, and out of sight.
Not only had he left her completely sexually frustrated, she realized belatedly, that he hadn't even tipped her, the fucker.
