Release date for Touched is creeping close and I can’t resist sharing this little moment. Tania is in a meeting at work. You know the kind, boring but necessary. She can’t stop thinking about her masseur, Adam and especially his hands. I think we’ve all had those distracting moments, when our thoughts fly into a fantasy realm and before we know it, we’ve forgotten where we are.
Her eyelids hovered close to the point when they would start to creep down. She focused her attention on her fingers and instead of helping her, it led her on a meandering mental path to Adam and his hands. She had never paid much attention to men’s hands before now. They came, she believed, in two types. One—rough, calloused workman-like, which would be strong but lacking in any sensual delights. To be touched by those hands she guessed would be like rubbing sandpaper up and down her skin. She had to assume this because she had never dated anyone who worked with their hands for a living. The other type would have the agile hands. Slender fingers, manicured, neat nails and the ability to do fine work—a surgeon’s hands.
It was thinking about Adam’s hands that had distracted her from the meeting. They had both the qualities of strength and agility and better still, they were not coarse. What surprised her the most had not been the strength—which she had expected—but the precision of the fingertips. A seamstress could thread a needle with accuracy or a sculptor could shape clay with a tiny spatula. Adam had kneaded Tania with all the accuracy of the artisan and the firmness of a working man.
Drifting before her were his hands and they moved across the meeting table toward her. As she imagined them reaching out to her, she crossed her legs tightly and squeezed her interior muscles. The hands were nearly upon her and her skin bristled with delight at her memory of his touch. Oiled and clean at the same time, they traveled over her, down and toward their target. Tania reached under the table with her free hand and clutched a tense thigh muscle, the pen in her fingers grasped tightly.
She could not believe how close she came to having an orgasm while surrounded by colleagues with incomprehensible numbers flying through the air, the smarmy Mark Antony just opposite her and the air conditioning blasting cold air down her front onto her stiff nipples.
“I think this needs more work in places,” Tania blurted, interrupting Myles in mid-flow. Vaguely she had been aware of the conversation and it was her salvation. The arousal was dampened down by the frigid interjection. She returned her hand to the tabletop and she glanced over at the slide, making a few rapid mental calculations. Finally, she felt like she was back in control and she hoped Adam’s hands stayed well away from her for the rest of the meeting.