This is why I should help myself out and only myself out. Going to anyone else for advice is like asking a damp cloth for its opinion on how to handle a frisky, sexy assistant. It has no idea, it’s a fucking damp cloth!
“Everything okay?” she asks.
“Huh?” I glance down at her as my hands continue to work over her back.
“You went silent on me.”
“Oh, uh, just giving you the full experience.”
She laughs. “You can talk, Levi. You don’t have to be quiet.”
“Are you sure? Oh shit, I didn’t even turn on music.”
“Do not turn on music. Seriously, you don’t even need to do this. Bosses usually don’t go full-service massage for their assistants.”
“Clearly, they aren’t winning boss of the year, then.” I move my hands down to her lower back, where I press into the spot right above her ass.
“Oh fuck,” she says, her hands crawling up to the pillow where she grips it. “Sorry, really sore there.”
“Your lower back?” I ask.
“Yeah, I twist when I sleep and tend to lay on my stomach, which strains my lower back. I try not to, but it’s how I feel the most comfortable.”
“I get it,” I say. “I like lying on my stomach too. Never on my back, I feel so exposed.”
“Me too,” she says as I work my hands back up her spine to her shoulders and neck. “I also feel like if I’m on my back, my eyes don’t fully close. If I wake up on my back, my eyes feel dry. When my dad sleeps on his back, his eyes remain partially open.”
I pause and lean to the side to look her in the face. “You’re fucking with me.”
She shakes her head. “Nope. Guaranteed, if you went to his hotel room right now, he’d be passed out on his back with his eyes partially open. It’s some serial killer-type sleeping.”
“Jesus.” I shiver. “I don’t know if that makes him less scary or scarier.”
“Maybe a little of both.”
I trail my hands down to her lower back again, where I knead her spine and the dimples just above her ass. Wylie Wood is perfect in just about every way. Her legs aren’t super skinny, giving her a great plump ass that looks amazing in her shorts.
Her waist is a touch narrower than her hips, showing off an hourglass figure, and then there’s her top half that I think I’ve talked about a whole fucking lot.
Her hair is my undoing, her eyes are soul-searing, and the freckles on her freshly washed face make me fucking weak in the knees. The only negative about this woman is the fact that her father is Coach Wood, the underwear blesser, who sleeps with his eyes partially open and is a scary-as-shit ogre.
“How is the pressure?” I ask.
“Amazing,” she says. “I’d love to know if any other bosses do this for their assistants.”
“The answer would probably be no,” I say as I make circles with my thumbs over the base of her spine, feeling the tension in her muscles. “Is your mattress in the nanny hole okay?”
“Yeah, it’s comfortable,” she answers. “Why?”
“Because your muscles are just tense is all.”
“Like I said, I think it’s because I sleep on my stomach.”
“Yeah, okay.”
I spend the next few minutes working my hands over her back, over her shoulders, against her neck. She groans and shifts and melts farther and farther into the mattress, her relaxation taking over, and I can’t help but feel a slight hint of pride that she’s that comfortable with me. That I can relax her to the point of . . . hold on . . .
Leaning forward just a little to look at her face, I notice that, yup . . . she’s sleeping.
Well, there goes the side boob graze. Can’t do it now. If I did it when she was sleeping, that would make me the ultimate pervert, and I already feel pretty low about myself. I don’t need to add pervert into the mix.
I move off the bed and assess the situation. I don’t want to wake her up. That seems cruel since she must be exhausted from all the shit I’ve made her do. And I can’t move her myself because, well, she’s not wearing a shirt, and therefore, I’d be moving around a topless girl, which would give me that pervert mark I’m trying to avoid.
Fuck.
I look over at the cot and then back at the king-sized bed where she’s sleeping diagonally. There’s no way I’d fit on that. And I know climbing into bed with her, with her shirt off, will be a big red flag as a boss.
It looks like I’m going to sleep on the goddamn cot.
Grumbling in annoyance, I find one of the spare blankets kept in the closet, and I drape it over her before I take my phone and charger to the cot. The entire thing creaks under my large body when I sit on it.
I swear to God if I end up folded in half in the morning because this thing has buckled under me, I’m going to have some choice words for the Queens.
Which makes me think . . .
I lie down on the cot, immediately noticing that my calf muscle to my foot is hanging off the end. I’m far too big for this fucking thing.
Could I wake her up? Yeah.
Do I want to wake her up and say, “Excuse me, ma’am, but you seem to have fallen asleep topless on my bed, and I’m going to need you to move it on over to the cot.”
Not going to happen.
I type out a disgruntled text.
Levi:I say this with respect, but you ladies have failed me, and I’m not so sure I can continue this journey with you. I fear your advice is not even a step above what I’d get from the men.
I send it knowing the minute they see the text, they’re going to respond. At least I would. When I was helping desperate Halsey with his love for Blakely, the number of times he told me to fuck off with advice, it cut deep.
And look at him now. He’s lucky I hung around.
My phone buzzes in my hand, and the first text is from Penny—who I consider the leader, although, I’d never say that in fear that she’d assume too much power.
Penny:Excuse me? Did you really just come into this thread to insult us?
Levi:I’m just speaking the truth.
Ollie:Well, the truth hurts.
Levi:Maybe give better advice.
Blakely:Whoa, where did all this hostility come from? A few days ago, we were queens, and now we’re a step above the boys? I need an explanation.
Winnie:Sometimes I think my advice isn’t that much better than Pacey’s.
Penny:Winnie, pull yourself together. Of course your advice is better than Pacey’s.
Ollie:I think before we start doubting ourselves, we need to have the man in this group explain himself.
Levi:“Massage her, touch her boob, it will be great.” < – – that’s what you said. Well guess what? I did massage her, but she fell asleep topless on my bed, and I can’t move her because that would mean I touched her breasts, and if I touch her breasts, I’ll get hard, not to mention, advance to pervert levels. So now I have to sleep on her cot, and because this cot was made for no bigger than a tween girl, my legs are hanging off the end. All because of you.
Penny:Hold on a second. She fell asleep?
Levi:Yeah. To my fucking luck, she fell asleep diagonally, so I can’t even slip into the bed if I want to.
Ollie:Why did she fall asleep?
Levi:Because I have magical hands that not just handle a hockey stick, but will massage all your worries away. Should have known the kind of powers I possess.
Winnie:Pacey has great hands. And a great penis. God, I love his penis.
Penny:Winnie, babe, I know you’re missing him, but remember, the sister is in this text thread.
Winnie:Sorry. I just miss his dick.
Ollie:I miss Silas and his piercings. God, I love it when he tells me to ride them.
Blakely:I miss Halsey’s tongue. And his chest. I love playing with his nipples.
Levi:Really not interested in hearing about the above. Also, side note, Halsey does have great nipples.
Blakely:Have you touched them? Very responsive.
Levi:Can’t say that I have but will be sure to accidentally graze them in the showers and see what happens.
Winnie:Ooo, graze Pacey’s nipples too! I bet they harden like little pebbles.
Ollie:While you’re at it, poke Silas’s stomach. His nipples will shrivel up quickly. I do it all the time. I laugh about it, but he hates that I do it.
Levi:Any place on the stomach, or is there a certain spot?
Penny:Uh, hello! We’re being blamed for someone else’s faults. Focus, ladies.
Blakely:She’s right. We gave you the goods, and you messed it up.
Levi:Hold on a goddamn second. I did not mess it up. I laid her down, even got her topless, and started massaging. I did it in my boxer briefs.
Penny:Wait, she shouldn’t have fallen asleep. She should be buzzing with erotic torture at the moment. Did you not touch the side boob?
Levi:She fell asleep before I could even make a move to the side boob.
Ollie:Was she really tired?
Winnie:How long were you massaging her before she fell asleep?
Levi: I don’t know, maybe like twenty minutes?
Penny:Twenty minutes and you still didn’t touch the side boob? Oh my God, Posey, you weren’t supposed to be a massage therapist, rubbing her worries away. You were supposed to diddle her orgasm button.
Ollie:Yeah . . . this is on you.
Blakely:Twenty minutes of just . . . massage. Woof, Posey.
Levi:What the hell was I supposed to do? The minute she lay down, start groping her? I wanted to warm her up a bit.
Penny:Warm her up for a minute and then start caressing all the places you shouldn’t be caressing.
Winnie:I’m upset about this. Truly.
Blakely:Me too. This jackass comes in here thinking he can blame us when he’s setting up to earn his massage license.
Ollie:It’s insulting. I think we should just drop him out of the group. Clearly, he can’t take instruction well and then to turn it around and blame us. Typical man.
Penny:All in favor of voting Posey out. Say aye.
Winnie:Aye!
Blakely:Aye.
Ollie:Aye.
Levi:WAIT! Don’t vote me out. I’m sorry! I never should have blamed you. I see where I went wrong and take full responsibility for my mistakes. Please, please don’t leave me out here alone with no direction. I’m in over my head, and I need you.
Penny:*stares down at your pitiful self* I don’t know, queens, what do you think?
Ollie:I appreciate the ability he has to quickly admit when he’s wrong.
Winnie:It would have been nice if he called himself pathetic in the apology.
Blakely:I agree with that. An insult to himself would have been the icing on the cake.
Levi:I’m a pathetic little man. Please don’t leave me. < – – that better?
Winnie:Much.
Penny:We shall take the night to think about this apology. But this is your one and only warning. We’re the key to your success. Never forget that.
Ollie:Never!
Winnie:*points finger at you* Never.
Blakely:*Huffs*
Levi:Thank you, Queens. Thank you.