My Husband's Masseuse

Kenzie's wiping down the table for her last slot when Charlie storms in, pissed-off and beautiful. Charlie says she booked the appointment, so Kenzie checks the books and shrugs—tomorrow’s with a regular guy. Charlie drops the bomb: she’s that guy’s wife. She’s here to see what’s got her husband running back for more. Kenzie laughs it off, says it’s only massage. Charlie isn’t buying it; she wants the massage anyway. She strips and stretches out, still glaring. Soon Kenzie’s thumbs sink deep, smoothing knots, and the fight in Charlie starts to melt. Her breath slows, her thighs relax. Kenzie’s hands keep sliding lower, turning quick suspicion into slow, slick heat. By the end Charlie’s practically humming, whispering she wants more—just keep the husband in the dark.