“You really came all the way here for a massage?” he asked, voice low and rough.

I smiled innocently, stepping closer. “You looked tense the other night. I thought I could help you relax.”

He stared at me for a long moment, then gestured toward the living room.

“Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

I followed him, my heart racing. The living room was luxurious — big leather couches, dim lighting, expensive art on the walls. I pointed to the couch.

“Take off your shirt and lie down. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Dante raised an eyebrow but obeyed, pulling his black shirt off to reveal a muscular, well-built...