"Have you seen the new guy he is Cute with a capital 'C'."

"I've heard that his fingers are that of a God."

"He's already all booked up for the next month."

"You ladies wouldn't be talking about me now would you?" Shawn smirked cockily as the two women jumped at his words. The women's faces turned a brilliant shade of red and they all but ran out of the break room.

"You know you're the 'it' kid right now." Shawn smiled at his boss. "If you would just do some private sessions than you would be really raking in the dough." Shawn seriously considered it while he was eating lunch and decided that the next time one of his clients asked for a private session he would be more than happy to oblige.

The door cracked open and the pretty redhead from reception poked her head in. "Shawn your three o'clock is here." Shawn looked at his watch and saw that it was only two-thirty. "She said she was willing to pay you double." Shawn smiled and nodded.

"Get her set up I will be there in five." Shawn quickly finished his lunch and made sure he looked the part before he entered his work room.

When he stepped through the door the client was not at all what he was expecting; usually the massageé was already face down in the table, the candles would be lit, and some soft music would be playing but this woman was sitting up and barely holding onto her sheet as she extended a hand to shake it.

"I'm Darla and I've heard the greatest things about you Mr. Spencer."

Shawn shook her hand. "Call me Shawn, Mr. Spencer is my father and I am nothing like my father, trust me."

The woman laughed. "Well, Shawn, as I was saying I heard great things about you and I wanted to monopolize your time." Darla dropped the sheet 'accidently' and Shawn couldn't help but see every square inch of her body as she slowly picked the sheet up. "I'm such a klutz." She lay down on the table and adjusted the sheet dangerously low on her hips.

Shawn swallowed deeply as he prepared the room. "What kind of music would you like?" His voice squeaked as he turned the dimmer low.

"Anything but soft jazz." Shawn nodded as he silently turned some mellow instrumental blues on. "mmmmmm...perfect." Usually women didn't purr like that till Shawn got his hands on them.

Dear God. Shawn picked out some lavender oil and set about his work. One hour later Darla was near passing out as was Shawn but for completely different reasons. All he could do was keep replaying the noises she made as he massaged her. Cats in heat are quieter. Just as he was going to leave the room and give her some privacy so she could get dressed she reached out a hand and grabbed him by a belt loop on his jeans.

"I was wondering if you do private sessions."

Shawn cleared his throat and tried to keep the squeak out of his voice. "Um...yes I do." He grabbed his date book. "But I must warn you it's twice as much."

"Anything to feel your magical hands on my body again."

Shawn was thankful she was still face down on the table because he was quite sure you could light a match from his face. "I'm free tomorrow after five and then on Saturday..."

"Tomorrow five-thirty sharp."

Shawn nodded and squeaked out a thank you to the woman before he ran out the room to gulp in some air that wasn't thick with whatever pheromone that woman released.

The next day all he could think about was Darla, her all over tan, and the rose tattoo she had on her hip. As soon as his four- thirty left he almost ran over two co-workers as he left the building. When the cab pulled up outside Darla's house Shawn didn't know what to expect but the nice brick ranch house with bushes that lined the walk wasn't it. He grabbed his gear and slowly walked up to the front door. Before he got a chance to knock the door swung open and there stood Darla in a skimpy silk robe.

Shawn swallowed and closed his eyes and when he opened them he saw as Darla sauntered away slowly dropping her robe on the floor. Shawn ran after her almost forgetting to close the door behind him. When he entered her bedroom he knew that she did not have a massage in mind. The bed was turned down, candles were lit, there was champagne in a bucket, and Barry white was playing in the background.

"Well are you going to do me or what?" Darla scooted back on the bed and propped herself up on her elbows.

Shawn choked on the intentional innuendo and being a red blooded all American male he did what was asked of him.

Before he had time to think clearly he could hear a car pull up outside the house. "That's my husband!"

Shawn jumped up, grabbed his clothes and went to run out of bedroom when he heard heavy footsteps approaching the room, he reversed direction quickly and ran to the closet shutting the door quietly. He watched through the slats as Darla threw on her robe and opened the door letting her husband into the bedroom.

"Is all this for me baby?"

"Sure is sweetie." Shawn continued to watch through the slats as her husband kissed Darla deeply.

"Son of a bitch!" Shawn clamped his mouth shut and continued to watch as his boss kissed Darla. Abruptly his boss broke the kiss and looked toward the closet.

"What was that?" Darla tried desperately to get her husband's attention again but it failed. Shawn prepared for the worst and he certainly got it. As the door opened everything moved in slow motion as his boss grabbed him by his hair and dragged him to the front door, when the door swung open his boss socked him in the eye as hard as he could and Shawn spilled out in the yard in only his boxers.

"So I take it I'm fired?" Shawn flashed a cheesy smile at the man and had to scramble to run down the block nearly naked as his ex-boss chased him with a baseball bat.

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"Please tell you didn't just tell me about your first time." Shawn snorted out a laugh at his dad's mortification.

"No, I am never going to tell you that story but that was my first cougar."

"Rate her from Bettie White to Demi Moore."

"Gave Demi Moore a run for her money."

Henry nodded in approval. "Way to go kid."

"I just thank God that her husband was overweight and a horrible swing." Shawn listened to his father chuckle and smiled. "Well I am going to try sending a text off." Shawn stood slowly and walked even slower to a tree that was fifty yards away from the truck. He sank against the trunk and unbuttoned his polo; the wife beater that was under it was slowly being stained red. He groaned softly as he lifted the shirt above the wound in his side. When he came to in the truck there was some sort of metal rod sticking out his side, he didn't know what it was and he knew he wasn't supposed to remove it but it was tiny and his dad had to be hurt worse after bouncing around in the truck as they rolled. Removing it was something he never wanted to experience again and he was just thankful he didn't pass back out. Shawn closed his eyes and breathed deeply to stop his head from swimming, his father wasn't the only one with a concussion. Knowing that his dad would begin to worry he whipped out his phone and tried to send off a text message to Juliet but it failed miserable.

"Shawn?" Even slower than before he stood and gimped his way back to the truck. "Any luck son?"

Shawn let out an involuntary whimper as he stuck his upper half of his body in the truck. "No, but I do need to check your leg." Shawn sighed in relief that bleeding had stopped. "How's the head?"

"Better. You Ok son?" Shawn was sweaty, despite the coolness of the weather and he was breathing hard. Shawn nodded but bit his lip as he backed out of the truck and it jarred his injuries.

"Yeah my ribs are just bruised, doesn't make for a fun time." Henry grunted in agreement. "So now that you heard about my time of touching hotties." Shawn sat outside the window again. "Want to hear about the time I worked for a carnival?"