Summary: In response to Quick Pick – Naked
Disclaimer: I don't own the A Team and I've not made a penny from this; I just do it for the jazz!
Copyright: October 2008
She silently walked in, holding her finger to her lips, keeping one hand in her purse. The masseuse nodded and continued her work. The dimly lit room was filled with calming scents from scattered candles.
She walked around studying the man on the table. The man lay face down, his head resting on top of his arms, only a towel protecting his dignity. His eyes were closed, facing away from her. Good. He was obviously deeply relaxed.
Carefully stepping around the table, she eyed with admiration his lean naked body, his strong muscles well defined. The oil glistened on his skin, accentuating his muscle tone. She cautiously took a look at his face. His hair slicked back, still wet from his earlier shower. Such a handsome face. This was the right guy. The one she had to collect.
Dangerous this one. Don't underestimate him.
He groaned as the masseuse worked up his spine and then hard into his shoulder blade, applying more oil. She smiled. Yes, he's relaxed.
Quickly glancing around, she noticed his robe hanging on a hook. With her free hand, keeping an eye on the man, she checked the robe's deep pockets and found his gun. She grinned, slipping his gun into her purse and removing her own. The nervous masseuse quickly took her hands off of the man, keeping them in the air.
The man didn't even seem to notice, deeply relaxed, not stirring.
Stepping closer to the table, a sly smile crept over her face. She couldn't resist removing the towel.
"Hey, hey, I didn't come here for that kind of massage," the man grumbled, startled, looking up. His eyes widened, staring up to see her standing with a gun pointed at his head. "Oh boy..."
She raised an eyebrow at the naked man, and smirked. "Now, Mr Peck," she couldn't hide her sarcasm as she teased, "do you go for your towel or your gun first?"
- end -