"What's your name?"
"Levi Binder." He spelled his last name, then said it again. BIN-der. Not bine-der. People always wanted to say it the way it looked, with a long I. But his family pronounced it with a short I, like "winter." Or "sinner."
"Well, Levi, I can see you at eleven o'clock tomorrow."
"Really? That's great!"
"Since it's your first visit, I'll have a bit of paperwork for you, so come a few minutes early. Come around to the back door."
"You got it."
* * * *
Jaime Marshall lived in and apparently worked out of a small, two-story brick home in a slightly older but well-maintained neighborhood. Levi followed a sidewalk around the side to the back of the house and was met at the door by a man he assumed was the Boy Scout from the phone.
"Are you Levi?" he asked through the screen door. He sounded suspicious, which seemed odd, given Levi had made an appointment.
"Yes."
The Boy Scout unlocked the door and opened it for him. "I'm Jaime. Come on in."
The room was small. It looked like it had once been a back porch, but had been enclosed. There was a cabinet in one corner and a chair in another. Most of the space was taken up by a massage table and there was a little wheeled stool tucked under one end.
"Can you fill this out for me, please?" Jaime handed him a clipboard with a few papers on it and a pen. He waved Levi toward the chair. "I need to put a clean sheet on the table and then we can discuss the problems you're having and get started."
The paperwork was pretty basic--did he have any injuries? Any major diseases? Where did it hurt? There was a rough sketch of a human body, both back and front, and Levi marked the places he had pain. As he filled it out, he stole glances at Jaime putting clean sheets on the massage table.
Jaime looked young--Levi would have guessed early twenties. He had strawberry-blonde curls. He was close to Levi's height, but thin and wiry. And he had a nice ass. It was a bit rounder than some, especially given how thin he was. It was the kind of ass you could really grab hold of, and Levi could picture exactly what it would look like naked. The idea of a massage was suddenly extremely appealing.
And the best part was, Jaime was gay. Levi could tell just by watching him. He wasn't flamboyant or swishy. Levi couldn't even have said exactly what it was--just a certain softness in his movements that gave it away.
"Are you finished?" Jaime asked, turning back to Levi.
"Yes."
Jaime took the clipboard and sat on the massage table. He pulled a pair of reading glasses out of his pocket and put them on, completing the perfect Boy Scout image. "You said on the phone somebody diagnosed this as a sciatica problem?" he asked as he looked at the papers.
"My brother-in-law. He's an orthopedic surgeon. But it was over the phone. He didn't examine me or anything. Why? Do you think he's wrong?"
"Not necessarily. The lumbar, the psoas, the sciatica, the hamstring--they're all connected. If one of them gets strained or tight, it can throw everything out of whack." He took his glasses off and looked up at Levi. He had eyes the color of the sky. "What do you do for a living?"
"I'm a bartender."
"So you're on your feet a lot?"
"Thirty hours a week." The Zone was only open Thursday through Saturday, but Levi made enough in tips on those three nights he didn't need to put in a full forty anyway.
"That can certainly aggravate it," Jaime said. "Stand up for me."
Levi obeyed. He stood there, waiting for Jaime to say something else, but Jaime just looked him up and down. It wasn't the way Levi was used to being looked at. Jaime seemed to have no interest in Levi himself. His gaze was completely analytical.
"Turn around."
Levi did, although he was starting to get annoyed. Jaime was examining him like he was some kind of specimen.
"Okay, good. Now, put both of your feet together and stand with your weight evenly distributed."
Levi hadn't even realized he was standing with most of his weight on one foot. He adjusted his stance, putting both feet together as instructed. His back was still to Jaime, and Jaime said, "Turn around again please."
Levi obeyed.
"Stand with your feet together." He hadn't realized he'd gone back to standing with most of his weight on his right foot again. It annoyed him. He felt like he was being chastised. But he did as he was told. Jaime continued to look him up and down.
"You're a surfer?" he asked.
Levi was surprised. "How'd you know?"
"It was either that, snowboarding, or skateboarding. Since we're in Florida, and you're over the age of twenty, I figured surfing was the better bet."
"You can tell by the way I stand?"
"That's part of it. Also the way you turn out your left foot."
Levi glanced down at his feet and saw his left foot did, indeed, point out to the side more than his right.
"And your propensity for standing with your weight on your right foot. And the problems you're having are fairly typical. It's probably your psoas muscle."
"My what?"
"The psoas is one of the largest and thickest muscles in the body. It starts here, at your twelfth thoracic vertebrae." Jaime stood up and turned to indicate a spot on his lower back. "It attaches to the lumbar and then runs down across the pelvis." He turned toward Levi again, using his hand to demonstrate the path of the muscle over the top of his hipbone. "It ends here." He pointed to a spot high on the inside of his thigh--the same place Levi'd been having pain. "On your lesser trochanter. It flexes your hip and spinal column." He looked at Levi and smiled. "There's more to it, but that's about as much as people usually want to hear."
"Can you fix it?"
"I think I can. We can go ahead and get started if you like."
"Of course."
"I'm going to step out for a minute. Go ahead and undress all the way--"
"What?"
"And lie down on the table. We'll start face-up today. You can cover yourself with the sheet."
"I'm going to be naked?"
"You can keep your underwear on if you want."
Levi felt a bit stupid for not having thought of that. Not that he was shy about his body, but it hadn't occurred to him he'd be lying naked, while the Boy Scout touched him. And Levi wasn't supposed to touch back.
This was definitely going to be interesting.
Jaime left the room--and Levi couldn't help but watch him go. He really did have a nice ass. Then Levi got undressed and lay on the table as directed.
Jaime came back in a minute later. Levi was used to having people appreciate his body--after all, he worked out. He surfed. He was well-built and tanned. He fully expected Jaime's eyes to linger on his pecs or on his flat stomach, but Jaime didn't seem to notice. He walked to the head of the table. He sat down on the stool and put his hands under Levi's neck. He grabbed the back of Levi's head and pulled gently. Levi couldn't help but imagine his head popping off. He suspected Jaime wouldn't even bat an eye.
Jaime put his fingers into the back of Levi's neck, lifting his head a bit. "Let's start with three deep breaths."
"Why?"
"To help you relax. And to increase the flow of oxygen to the muscles."
"This is ridiculous."
"Humor me. Just close your eyes and take three deep breaths."
It still seemed absurd, but there was nothing to be gained by arguing. Levi closed his eyes and started to breathe. With each breath, Jaime's fingers moved a bit closer to Levi's spine, allowing his head to hang back farther.
"Good," Jaime said. It was about the same tone somebody might use when they said "Good boy," to a dog, and it annoyed him. Jaime began rubbing Levi's scalp and his temples. "I don't want to give you any false ideas. These things can't be fixed in one appointment, but we should be able to get a better idea of the exact problem spots today. The good news is, this type of problem does usually respond well to massage therapy."
"Why are you rubbing my head i
f the problem's in my ass and thigh?" Levi asked, although the truth was, it felt fabulous.
"Everything's connected. We'll concentrate on the problem spots, but it doesn't hurt to give the rest of the body some attention."
Levi didn't argue. The massage on his head felt too good. He relaxed as Jaime rubbed his neck. Then he moved to his arms and even massaged his hands. "Wow," Levi said. "That's awesome."
Jaime smiled, but didn't look up. "Some people don't like it."
Afterward, he moved to Levi's psoas--not that Levi would have known it was his psoas if Jaime hadn't told him. It stretched down his left side and over his hip. It was then Levi learned this wasn't going to be a relaxing massage. Jaime made him do "movements." First, he used the heel of his hand to apply pressure to the muscle on the inside edge of Levi's hipbone. His arm was stretched across Levi's body, his wrist practically brushing Levi's package as he pushed on the tender spot. Then he had Levi contract his abdominal muscles, tilting his pelvis up. It was the same movement he might have used during sex to thrust up into somebody. Jaime had him hold there while he used his other hand to stroke up the length of the muscle, along Levi's belly.
The entire thing would have been unbelievably arousing if it hadn't hurt so damn much, and Levi was extremely relieved when it was over.
When Jaime was finished with the psoas, he moved to Levi's leg. He uncovered his left foot, then his lower leg. He hooked his hand behind Levi's knee and lifted it, pulling the sheet at the same time so Levi's leg was revealed. He wrapped the sheet up and over Levi's hip, tucking the end underneath his side. It was a strange magic trick that left his entire leg exposed, but caused the sheet to be tucked tight around his upper thigh and hip so nothing inappropriate was exposed in any way.
Jaime's hands were incredibly soft. He didn't rub hard at first. He seemed to be exploring the muscle high on Levi's thigh with his fingers, watching Levi's reaction.
"Does it hurt here?"
"Not as much."
"And here?"
"Yes, more there."
"And is it focalized or does it radiate out to other places?"
"It's only there."
"That's good." His hand slid toward the inside of Levi's thigh, and Levi tensed. "Just relax, Mr. Binder." At least he pronounced it right.
"Please don't call me that."
"You prefer Levi?"
"Yes."
"Okay, Levi. Try to relax."
But Levi was finding it very difficult to relax. Jaime's soft hand was moving slowly up the inside of his thigh, stopping every inch or two to press into the muscle before moving on, and Levi's body was reacting in a way he feared was wholly inappropriate, given the circumstances.
"Relax," Jaime said again.
"I can't!" Levi snapped.
"Don't worry about it," Jaime said. His tone was clinical. Professional. Detached. "It's a common physical reaction. You don't need to be embarrassed."
"Easy for you to say."
"It's a natural response to physical stimulation--"
"No shit!" The stupid thing was, now they were talking about it, it was only getting worse. He was pretty much flying full mast now, and the thin sheet covering him certainly wasn't hiding it. "Are you almost done?"
Suddenly Jaime pushed harder on his tender thigh. It hurt so much Levi almost jumped off the table. "Ow! What the hell? Did you do that on purpose?"
"Took your mind off your other problem, didn't it?" Jaime said, without cracking a smile.
"You're a little bit sadistic, aren't you?"
"You're not the first person to think so." He pushed again on Levi's thigh, and Levi winced. "This is really a symptom of the problem with your psoas, so we'll do a few movements and then I'll try to loosen it up and release some of the lactic acid."
Those words sounded harmless, but Levi soon learned this was going to be the worst part of the whole deal. It felt like there was broken glass inside his thigh when Jaime started to work on it.
"Fuck, it hurts!"
"I know. I'm sorry."
"You don't sound sorry!"
"It's important for you to keep breathing--"
"That's your best advice? Keep breathing?"
"Are you from Florida?"
The sudden topic change flustered him. "What?"
"Some people find talking distracts them from the pain. So...are you from around here?"
Levi found the entire situation aggravating, but he gritted his teeth and answered, "My family lives in Georgetown, South Carolina."
"When did you move here?" Jaime wasn't looking at him. Not at his face, at any rate. His eyes were on Levi's thigh as his hands continued to work. His expression was distant and analytical. He didn't seem to care about the answer, but Levi gave it anyway.
"When I was twenty-one." That was the point when he'd given up on trying to pretend he could be what his parents wanted him to be. He'd dropped out of BYU and intentionally picked the one place in the country his parents associated with sin and excess. Even Vegas offended them less than Miami.
"You've been a surfer your whole life?"
"Yes."
"It looks like fun. I've always wanted to try it."
"It is fun," Levi said, relaxing now he was talking about something he loved. "I'll be happy when I can do it again without paying for it for days afterward."
"And you're a bartender?"
"Yes."
"Where at?"
"The Zone." Jaime's hands stopped moving for a fraction of a second, before resuming their assault on Levi's tender thigh. Just enough for Levi to know Jaime recognized the name. "I don't think I've ever seen you there," Levi said.
Jaime shook his head. "I don't get out much."
"But you're gay, right?"
"Does it hurt less now?"
It did hurt less. Talking was helping. But Levi wasn't put off so easily. "You should come by sometime. Drinks on me."
"I appreciate the offer--"
"The offer usually comes after the drinks," Levi said, and he was happy to see Jaime blush. It was the first break in his professional demeanor.
"I assure you, Mr. Binder--"
"It's Levi."
"I have no interest in being one of your conquests."
"'Conquests'? You think that's the kind of guy I am?"
"Isn't it?" His eyes met Levi's as he asked the question. There was no laughter in his voice, but no accusation either.
Levi was surprised at his forthrightness and he laughed. "What gave me away?"
"I know I look like a farm boy from Kansas--you probably think the tornado missed Oz and dropped me in Miami by mistake--but I assure you that isn't the case."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I've met guys like you before."
Levi was trying to decide if he should be offended by the comment.
"Anyway, The Zone has..." Jaime hesitated and his blush deepened. It made him look even younger. "It has a reputation."
"Really?"
"There's a rumor about a storage room?"
"All true. I'd be happy to show you some time," he said, just to watch Jaime blush more. "I'll give you a personal tour."
"I'll pass, Mr. Binder."
"It's Levi."
"It's Levi when you're cooperating. It's Mr. Binder when you're trying to hit on me."
Levi laughed. "Fine. I'll stop." For now, at least.
Jaime moved on to his other leg, which was quick and painless, and then he had Levi turn over. His lower back and left butt cheek prompted more of the strange techniques. They were painful, and yet, he could tell already they were helping.
When he was done, Jaime left the room while Levi got dressed.
"How's your leg?" he asked as he came back in.
Levi flexed it, testing his weight on it. It did feel better. Not good. But better than it had felt in a while. "I think you might be a miracle worker."
"Not really. It will tighten back up if you let it. I'm going to give you some stre
tches to do. Make sure you drink a lot of water tonight, to help flush the toxins out of your system." He spent the next few minutes explaining the stretches he wanted Levi to do.
Levi doubted he'd do them, but he wasn't going to tell Jaime that. He made an appointment to come back on Thursday.
"It was nice meeting you," Jaime said at the end of the appointment.
"You too," Levi said. "Thanks for your help."
"You're welcome, Levi."
Levi started to open the door, but stopped and turned to look at Jaime. He really was cute, in a Boy Scout kind of way. "My drink offer still stands you know."
"Have a nice afternoon, Mr. Binder."
Chapter 3
Jaime Marshall finished his last massage at five-fifteen P.M., as he always did. Once his client was gone, he stripped the sheets off the massage table. He put a load of them in the washer and put fresh sheets on the table so it would be ready for his first client the next morning.
His dog Dolly was waiting for him when he came out, wagging and wiggling and panting in joy. She knew the massage room was the one room in the house she wasn't allowed in, but she also knew once he came out of the massage room, turned off the light, and closed and locked the door behind him, he was done for the day.
"Hey, Dolly, did you miss me?" Jaime got down on his knees to pet her, rubbing under her collar, and was rewarded with a wet nose against his ear. She wasn't much of a licker. Instead, she used a playful sort of head bump, as if she wanted to lick him, but forgot to stick her tongue out. He'd adopted her from the shelter when she was only two years old. She was part golden retriever and part something else--maybe chow. She was completely worthless as a guard dog, but as a companion she was the best.
The door from his back yard into the massage room had only a flimsy lock on it, but the one leading from the massage room into his house had three--one on the handle, the standard deadbolt, and another deadbolt at about eye level. Jaime made sure they were all securely latched. He'd read an article once that said the safest thing was to have two more, one at the very top of the door and one at the bottom, but he didn't have the tools he would need to install the locks himself and he didn't want anybody coming to his house to do it for him. They'd think it was weird. They'd think he was afraid of something.