After pulling myself together and dressing, I decided to finish my night with a mineral soak—solo—and used a kiosk to add that to my account. I had an unlimited membership, but Amber kept meticulous records. Thankfully, I didn’t pay the hefty fee for unlimited use of Mood Cafe’s services. I was her first client and had recruited many of her best customers—women who gladly paid that hefty unlimited fee for all Mood had to offer.
Amber and I had been in a sorority together in college, and we’d brainstormed the idea for this place in between parties. Parties that too often found me naked, sexed out, and late for class. Still, I’d completed dual majors in accounting and business, graduated with honors, and gotten a decent job. In the meantime, I set up and maintained Mood Cafe’s bookkeeping system and did Amber’s taxes. When I stepped out on my own as a financial advisor, Amber would be my first client.
I’d put my party days behind me and decided to not date anyone for a year. I liked to say I was cleansing my palette. Eleven months into that year, and I knew I wanted an exclusive relationship and everything that went with it...eventually. One might think an excess of alcohol had contributed to my college wantonness, but the fact is, I simply like sex. Nothing to apologize for there. And I scarcely drink. Glass of wine once in a while. That’s all I can manage before dozing off. Obviously, I don’t need it to reduce my inhibitions.
I slept like the dead that night, beyond relaxed. I wasn’t sure I even had bones anymore. I awoke early, did ten minutes of yoga, showered, and decided to get to my desk early, too. Getting to the office before everyone else made catching up on paperwork a breeze. It looked good for the boss, too. And since I was up for a promotion to senior loan officer—in direct competition with Brandon—every little bit helped.
As I locked the door to my apartment, I pushed away thoughts of the night before. I was a little sore. That was reminder enough. If I drifted too far into reminiscing I’d never get any work done. Mood Cafe never failed to adjust my attitude no matter my disposition going in. Normally, when I came out, I felt loads better and that was that. I didn’t think about the sex or daydream about the providers when I wasn’t there. Something about last night had been different. And that something was Travis. Hard as a tried, I couldn’t stop remembering the passion in his eyes and how good he’d felt thrusting deep inside me. Imagining his mouth on me sent attack butterflies zooming around my belly every time. He was the first guy I’d been with at the cafe who I’d like to see outside of that pleasure cave. But he was a sex worker. I was a client. The only time our lives could intersect was within the confines of the treatment rooms.
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