Devi's Bliss: Bools 1-3
Devi's Bliss
Books 1 - 3
Mika Lane
Headlands Publishing
Contents
A story of Noelle
Prologue
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
The End
A story of Dakini
Prologue
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
The End
A story of Isabella
Prologue
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
The End
Excerpt from Devi’s Bliss:
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Also By Mika Lane
About Mika Lane
Prologue
Resistance was futile.
This man was gorgeous, sexy, and he wanted her.
But more importantly, she found herself craving his attentions, if only for an afternoon.
There had been no lover like that in her life for far too long, and she hadn’t realized until now how empty that void had grown.
Devi’s Bliss: a story of Noelle
Dedication
For my Dream Team—you know who you are
And of course, Mr. Mika Lane
Copyright © 2016 by Mika Lane
Headlands Publishing
4200 Park Blvd. #244
Oakland, CA 94602
Devi’s Bliss: a story of Noelle is a work of fiction. Names, characters, (most) places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s creativity or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of quotations in a book review.
ISBN 978-0-9979771-4-1 (print)
ISBN 978-0-9979771-1-0 (eBook)
Edited by Trish Owens www.trishowens.net
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Chapter 1
Noelle Berry revved her little VW beetle for all it was worth, passing a late-model Mercedes creeping along in the fast lane. Late for work again, she stepped on the gas and darted around the old classic to catch up with the rest of the traffic.
As she Mario Andretti’ed around another slowpoke, her cell phone rang with her little brother’s name on the caller ID. She jumped at all calls from him, never knowing what sort of shenanigans he’d have gotten himself into.
“Hey Mikey.”
But Mikey wasn't on the other end of the line.
“Miss Berry? Is this Miss Noelle Berry?” A stranger’s voice greeted her.
“Yes. Who is this?” Her stomach acid churned at the unfamiliar voice. “Where’s my brother? Has something happened to him?”
What. The. Hell.
“Miss Berry, this is the Marin County Sheriff’s Department. Are you the guardian for Michael Berry?”
Chest thumping, she shrilled, “Yes! What is going on?”
“Your brother Michael is fine, Miss Berry. But he’s being detained right now for violating probation and driving without a license. He was permitted to call you from his cell, but he wanted us to speak with you first. He seems very upset.”
He should be upset.
But he was safe, thank god. The churning in her tummy decelerated with the knowledge, but damn that little twit. He was in trouble. Again. And he had the cops call from the phone he didn’t even pay for.
“What do I need to do?” Noelle merged onto the exit toward work.
Why does shit like this happen on the verge of lateness? There was a client, a new one, who was probably arriving for his massage at that very minute.
“He’s being held here in the Marin County jail, and he’ll have to stay for a day or two until his probation officer makes a report. After that he can get out on bail. Since he’s had so many offenses, his bail this time will be…” Papers rustled in the background, followed by a loud throat clearing. “His bail will be…ah, here it is…five thousand dollars.”
“You have got to be kidding me!” she wailed as she pulled into the parking lot and slammed to a stop. She left her car covering two parking places as she shoved the gearshift into park.
Five thousand dollars.
Her mouth went from just dry to loaded with cotton. “Look,” she said. “I know Mikey is in and out of trouble, but he’s certainly not a danger to anyone.”
Well, except himself.
“I’m sorry, Miss Berry, but that’s the standard amount for someone in Michael’s situation. We’ll get back to you when he’s ready to leave, but I suggest you start making arrangements to post bail.”
Noelle swiped off her phone as the knot of frustration gelling in her midsection spread in every direction. She forced herself to try to laugh through it, thinking a chuckle would somehow chase it away. True, Mikey was safe, and thank goodness for that. But he’d gotten himself into a situation that was going to cost her a lot of money, thanks to their fucked-up childhood—the gift that kept on giving. And right now was not a good time to be pissed. She needed to be calm and collected, at least until she got off work and could go over to the jail to smack Mikey upside his head.
She pressed her car’s remote lock and ran for the entrance of Devi’s Bliss, the famous spa where she provided sensual massage. Once inside, she leaned against the cool wall to let her eyes adjust to the dim light. She could not afford to be upset at work.
She chanted, “Breathe, breathe, breathe.” The adrenaline rush dissipated, aided by the scents of bergamot and vetiver in the air.
The serenity of the spa was inspired by the sumptuous organic design of a Balinese temple, and was a big part of what made Noelle love her work as a massage therapist. Carved sculptures of the Buddha and various Hindu deities like Ganesha, god of beginnings, and Lakshmi, goddess of wealth, gazed at her from their posts on either side of the front door. Noelle never felt so at home as when she was at Devi’s Bliss.
She treasured her work at Devi’s, where she had been providing sensual massage for a year and a half. The spa was unique in that if she and her client desired it, they could engage in any level of physical intimacy. It was always voluntary, and for someone who loved sex as much as Noelle, a dream job. She’d been lucky enough to land there just after completing her massage studies, first serving as an apprentice for six months. Deeply thankful that Devi believed in her enough to give her a chance to join the team, she was ecstatic to be part of a healing, sex-positive community—where she also happened to make a very good living.
But her brother’s troubles all-too-frequently dipped into the savings she’d managed to set aside. Raising a juvenile almost-delinquent was not cheap. And this threatened to derail her long-term plans. His last wrongdoing led to his speeding down the highway at ninety miles an hour in the car he and his friends had “borrowed.” The folks they’d “borrowed” the car from had reported it stolen, resulting in the teens being charged with a felony.
“Why, Noelle. I’m glad you could make it. Thank you for coming in today.” Her boss, Devi, spoke in a low voice so no guests could hear, but Noelle grasped her meaning loud
and clear. She had her hands on her hips and smirked with irritation.
The two were like mother and daughter, another delightful by-product of Noelle’s sweet job. Regardless, Devi believed in tough love and let no one off the hook.
The spa was one of the few sensual massage centers in the San Francisco Bay area, and Noelle’s calendar was booked to capacity in the year since she’d finished her apprenticeship. Clients came from all over the country for Devi’s therapists, and now, much to Noelle’s delight, they came from near and far for her.
“I’m so sorry, Devi,” Noelle pleaded in a whisper. “The traffic was awful, and I got a call from the sheriff’s office about my brother, and he’s been detained again, and this time his bail’s set for five grand—”
Devi interrupted, “Your new client, Mr. R, is waiting for you in the Heart Chakra room. Please get a move on.” Placing a hand on Noelle’s shoulder, she turned her toward the hallway with a gentle push.
“On my way, boss, on my way.” Noelle ran for a quick refresh and swept through the staffroom door, forcing her co-worker, Dakini, to leap out of the way just in time to avoid a smashed nose and a potential black eye.
“Holy— What the…?” When she saw it was Noelle, she added, “Slow down girl!”
“Ack! So sorry, Daki,” Noelle apologized to her best friend as she flung open her locker to deposit her street clothes. In a flash, she’d stripped down to her panties and donned the required white kimono uniform. Turning to the mirror, she flicked on the vanity lights and smeared on a light coat of lipstick. She finger-combed her waist-length blonde hair, and with a couple flips of her wrist, twisted it into a braid.
Satisfied that she was presentable, she turned to Dakini. “As usual, I’m late. For a new client.” She zipped toward the door.
“Who’s your first today?”
“Um…” Noelle grabbed her schedule. “Looks like someone by the name of Mr. R.” All clients were referred to by code names to keep records confidential and privacy protected.
“Have a good sesh,” Dakini called, laughing. “Don’t ever change, you nut!”
Noelle paused outside the Heart Chakra room, closing her eyes and taking a deep, centering breath before stepping inside. She needed to embody composure and lower her blood pressure a notch or two. Her job was to create a relaxing but erotic atmosphere where she focused only on the client. Her personal problems had no place in the room. Damned if she wouldn’t give Mr. R her best.
Finally, radiating a hard-won calm, Noelle slipped into the room. She kicked off her flip-flops to feel the roughness of the tatami-covered floor that always helped to ground and focus her. The flickers of several votive candles danced up the walls and across the ceiling. Mr. R lay facedown under the sheet, his face nestled into the massage cradle. All there was to see was a deliciously muscular back, huge shoulders, and what looked to be a rock-hard, rounded ass.
“Hello, I’m Noelle.” Her voice was low and thick. “Nice to meet you, Mr. R.”
“Mmmm. Hello.” He inhaled deeply. “I’m already more relaxed than I’ve been in weeks.”
“Ah, there is more where that came from, Mr. R. Tell me, did someone refer you to me?” Noelle pulled out her various massage oils, inhaling their spicy scents.
“Devi suggested you might be a good therapist for me.”
She turned from the supply cabinet to face him as he rolled to his side and propped himself onto one arm, letting the sheet slip down to his pubic hair. Left uncovered was a ripped chest with erect, brown nipples and a perfect splay of dark body hair. The white fabric draped over his privates threatened to slip yet farther, outlining some delicious potential in the prominent mound between his legs.
She forced herself to look away from temptation and stopped at a face so chiseled it left her breathless and trembling. From his square jaw to his prominent brow and the piercing blue eyes in between, she’d never seen such an abundance of masculinity.
Her hands shook as she poured out the massage oil, and she rubbed her palms together hard to hide her nerves. But she didn’t bother suppressing a smile that approved of his tousled bed hair and thick black eyelashes.
Guys always got the good lashes.
“Nice to meet you.” He extended his hand.
Before taking his, Noelle rubbed her oily one on her robe, and her face blazed from pink to red to purple. “Very nice to meet you Mr. R. Sorry I’m a bit oily. Hazards of the trade.” Was the room getting hot?
“No problem at all.” He grinned, turning back on his stomach.
His devilish smile and strapping chest had thrown her for a loop just when she needed to concentrate, and she was relieved his eyes were no longer on her. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, closed her eyes for a moment, and then ran her hands up and down his back through the sheet, warming him up.
“Anything in particular you’d like to focus on today, Mr. R? Any aches or pains?”
“Oh you know, general tightness around my shoulders and neck. That sort of thing.”
With this guidance, Noelle folded the sheet to just above his—yes, definitely rock hard—ass. Using the warm oil on her hands, she made long, firm strokes on the flawless skin of his powerful back.
He hummed his approval. “Oh, that’s good. Perfect. Go as hard as you want.”
“Okay. We’re on the right track.” Noelle felt moisture dampening her panties, and she was grateful she’d worn them under her robe.
“What sort of work do you do, Mr. R, that makes you so tight in your upper back?” With more oil, she began kneading his well-developed shoulders, working the muscles on the sides of his neck to just below his shoulder blades.
He sucked in his breath as she hit a sensitive spot. She lingered on it with increasing pressure, and he twitched underneath. It was ironic that the big, strong guys were so quickly reduced to quivering jelly.
“Whoa,” he said, shifting again. “Devi told me you were strong, but I didn’t know I was risking bruises.” He laughed.
“I don’t want you black and blue. You might never come back to see us.”
And that would be a damn tragedy…
“Funny girl. But so far, I’m not crying. So far. I’m an artist by the way. I paint mainly in oils. I do a lot of commissions, portraiture, that sort of thing.”
“Sounds wonderful.” Noelle glided to his lower back, alternating pressure between flat palms and her fingertips, releasing his tight, crunchy knots. “That sort of work can certainly cause tightness. It’s good that you came in today.”
“Agreed.” His breath followed the rhythm of the strokes that ran up to his shoulder blades and back down.
“Mr. R, may I lower the sheet?” She already knew the answer, but it was still proper protocol during a sensual massage to check in at key moments like this.
“Be my guest,” he murmured.
She peeled the sheet down, uncovering two, rock-hard ass cheeks that quivered the smallest amount when the air hit them. She dug hard into the bare muscles that made his ass so high and round.
She became lost in admiring him as she repeated her strokes, almost forgetting to switch to his other side. When she finally did, she made sure his entire ass was slick and shiny with massage oil.
Oh, to rub into that hunk of perfection.
Continuing down to the firm, sensitive flesh of his inner thighs, he parted his legs to facilitate her access. Taking the hint, she dug with a hard, kneading pressure where his ass crease met his legs. A shifting movement gave away his effort to accommodate an erection. This happened with nearly all men, and told her that he was feeling good and relaxed.
“Mr. R, would you like to turn over now?” she asked softly, holding the sheet in position to provide a degree of modesty.
He flipped over with a languid effort, not opening either eye, unaware he was providing her a new view to admire. She laid the sheet over his lower half to just below his navel and positioned an eye pillow on his face for added relaxation. And of course
, so he couldn’t catch her ogling.
She progressed to his feet and, folding the sheet up to his ankles, rubbed the emollient into all his toes. She circled around his heels, stroked along the arches of his feet, and ran back around to his Achilles to find his pressure points. For many, this was the best part of a massage as the intense sensitivity of their feet was connected to every nook and cranny of their body. Sometimes, this was all it took to send a person into hours of relaxed slumber.
As Noelle’s oiled hands worked Mr. R’s ankles, she glanced up the length of his body, impressed by the tent formed by the sheet draping over his erection. He parted his legs a bit more, presumably to make room for his swelling testicles, and he snored for the split second he drifted in and out of a nap. Her heart rate picked up, and the cotton of her robe chafed her aroused nipples.
It’s not every day one got to work on such a specimen of manliness.
As the ninety minutes came to a close, Noelle softly asked, “Mr. R, is there anything else I can do for you?”
His lifted his head up from the table, and the eye pillow slithered to the floor. He looked to the sheet outlining his hard cock and then back to Noelle.
“Would you mind? Please?” he asked with a smile that made her knees weak. He lay back with his hands behind his head, eyes closed.
Now it’s time for some fun.
This part of her job, providing sexual release for her clients, was dear to Noelle’s heart. Devi’s Bliss clients could experience arousal and orgasm to reduce tension and stress and to calm the mind. Noelle was forever thankful to be a part of a non-judgmental, honest, and safe environment.
She eased her palm over the bulb at the top of the tent, teasing Mr. R’s cock. A shiver rocked her shoulders, and she gasped, hoping she hadn’t been loud enough for him to catch. She worked her way from the peak of the tent to the base, still on the outside of the sheet. His length extended past her fingertips, and she could not completely close her hand around his girth. Steadying her breath, she told herself to stay calm and stay focused.