Chapter 3

I stared at him in disbelief and blinked once then twice before his words echoed in my head again.

Magic hands

Magic hands

Magic hands

I snapped back to reality and my eyes couldn't help, but drift down to view inbetween his legs that were wide open. His black briefs clung to his body like a second skin and a cold shiver ran down my spine at how richly endowed he was at that area.

"Am I getting the back massage or what?" He questioned.

"Should I call you a massage therapist?" I questioned, pointing at my bag.

"I want the massage therapist standing in front of me." He flashed me a wink.

"I'm not a massage therapist, sir."

"Just give me a massage."

"Th-There's no massage oil." I fished out an excuse from my head and gave myself a high five in my mind.

"Says who?" He ached his brows and pulled out a bottle of oil from one of his throw pillows.

Was this man always getting massages from random people that he had to stuff bottles of massage oil in his throw pillows?

"But I'm not in anyway a massage therapist, sir." I shook my head.

"But you're my personal assistant." He orated, getting up to his feet and peeling off his white robe. "And this back needs some personal assistant Justice."

How about I do justice to it by smacking it with a baseball bat?

"I'm you personal assistant not your massage therapist, sir." I tried to reason with him.

"Loose the sir thing, call me Mitch." He threw his robe on my face and drew the waist of his brief so it could make a slapping sound. "What's a personal assistant?"

"A-"

"No, no. Google it sweet cheeks." He ordered, hands plastered on his waist.

I sighed and pulled out my phone from my hand bag then searched the meaning of personal assistant.

"A personal assistant, also referred to as personal aide (PA) or personal secretary (PS), is a job title describing a person who assists a specific person with their daily business or-" I hesitated after reading it out loud, stressing the daily business.

I took my gaze higher to his face and he ached his brow. Reluctantly, I said it. "Or personal tasks."

"Daily business or..." He trailed off, putting his palm by the side of his ear so he could hear me better.

"Personal tasks." I refrained from rolling my eyes.

"And this here," he pointed his back and I resisted the urge of taking my eyes lower to his manhood. "Is my personal task."

I groaned internally and wracked my brain for more excuses. "But-"

"Do you want to get fired, sweet cheeks?" He smiled at me, transferring his weight to the other leg and I couldn't help, but look at his groin that bounced.

"No, sir." I quickly averted my gaze from his groin and collected the oil with a fake smile, knowing I wouldn't get a hefty salary elsewhere. "Loose the sweet cheeks, my name is Diana."

"Then loose the sir, my name is Mitch. Hurry, my back is waiting." He clapped his hands and laid on his stomach.

How about I call you bitch?

I applied some oil on my palms and rubbed it slowly on his smooth back.

"I want it to be sensuous," he said almost breathless.

I did I was told, kneading his back with a little pressure and weird sounds came out of Mitch's mouth. I drifted to his lower back with a scowl on my face and applied even more pressure so it could break his back, but he wasn't even moved by it because he kept-was he moaning?

"Yes, lower." He instructed and and I did as I was told. "Yes... Oh, my goodness. Aaaaah."

He made those sounds that made me cringe. They were sensual, but not to me or maybe it was because the hairs at the back of my neck stood at attention.

All I need is one, one old man is enough. Babe, you got it wrong. Just turn your fears into trust, to trust.

My phone rang in my bag and I glanced at it.

"Don't stop massaging, Diana." His husky voice sounded like someone was riding him.

My phone went silent, before ringing again.

"Okay. You can take it, but you have to keep massaging my back. Deal?" He voiced.

"Deal." I nodded my head and quickly got my phone.

The caller ID was Tcee and I rolled my eyes or wait, maybe she could come up with something that'd get me away from this place.

"Girl!" She exclaimed as I took the call and I winced, my ears were literally bleeding.

"My back." He ordered and I went back to kneading his back. "Uhhhh, yes... Right there."

"Diana, what are you doing?" Tcee asked and I pictured her laying on the bed and frowning.

"Well-"

I got cut off by my boss who was moaning like someone was giving him head. The fuck was he doing? I placed my phone between my ear and shoulder so I could continue with my darn boss.

"Are you finally getting deflowered?" She questioned, excitement evident in her voice.

"No, this is even worse. My boss asked me to massage his back." I cried, hoping she'd get a hint that I needed saving.

"I heard you." My boss turned his head so he could meet my gaze.

"Sorry, si-" I stopped to reword my sentence. "Mitch."

"Massage him more, please. Put the phone close to his mouth so he could moan my name." Tcee begged, accompanied with a shuffling sound of her adjusting on the bed. "Maybe I could twirl my finger on my clit and-"

I cut her off, pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration. "My goodness, Tcee. You're stupid and need to be cleansed!"

Tcee laughed so hard I thought she was going to vomit her intestine.

"I heard you." My boss pointed out and I smiled apologetically.

I clenched my jaw and clawed my fingers, wishing I could sink my nails deep into his flesh. He was fucking annoying!

"No, I was talking to my best friend," I said to my boss and went back to massaging his back. "Bye Tcee."

"Massage his balls too! Guys love it when you use your mouth." She cackled.

"Burn in hell, Tcee." I rolled my eyes and hung up. She needed God's intervention in her life.

"I want some coffee." He ordered, snapping his fingers.

"To think that you want to date me." I grumbled and kept my phone on the table.

"I could give you the world, but you choose to be with prick... What's that his name again?" He snapped his fingers and sat up–my eyes stole a glimpse at his bulge.

"Eddy Curt and he's not a prick." I snapped, wiping my hands on a towel.

"Yes, Eddy Curt. Who gives their kid Eddy Curt? What a stupid combination." He mocked, rubbing his chest. "Now, go get me a cup of coffee."

I tightened the bottle cap of my emotions and tried not to launch at him like a cat. Clawing his face would really satisfy the anger I was feeling.

I got into his spacious kitchen and pulled open the white cabinet that was up so I could bring out the coffee.

His kitchen was spacious with large granite countertops and black wall paint. Even the tiles were black with a little touch of white.

I opened the three cup coffee maker, turned in some room temperature water and put in three table spoons of coffee. My hands pressed down the on button, while I watched the coffee brew till it was ready and perfect.

I turned it into a cup and enjoyed the smokey scent that rode the air into my nose.

Glancing from left to right, I brought out my tongue and licked the spoon before using it to stir Mitch's coffee.

That's what you get for forcing me to give you a massage.

I sniggered and straightened my face before walking out of the kitchen with an innocent face.

Suddenly, Mitch ran from where he was standing to the couch like he was doing something he wasn't supposed to. I studied him with lidded eyes then placed the coffee on his table.

What exactly was he doing?

**************

"Thank you!" I waved the driver that Mitch had sent to drop me off after using me to do slavery for an hour!

He only let me leave his house because I told him my little sister couldn't stay on her own. Annoying!

It was five minutes after eleven and I was exhausted. If I had known, I wouldn't have worn these heels. My legs wobbled as I walked and if Tcee was here with me, she would have said he banged me so hard I was finding it hard to walk.

I unlocked my door and pulled out the key. It was dark and chilly. I must have forgotten to turn off the air condition and Eliana was still asleep. In order not to wake her up, I gently closed the door before switching off the air condition.

My feet took me into my almost grand hall with shaky knees. I shut my eyes tight when I remembered I didn't bolt the entrance door. I made a mental note to do it after kicking off my shoes.

Just as I was about to turn, someone grabbed my neck and pushed me aggressively to the wall.