Bath Bliss
"Spa therapist Adaeze treats celebrities at Bath's luxury hotels—but the thick Namibian heiress who books the honeymoon suite alone has treatments in mind that aren't on any menu."
The honeymoon suite was empty except for Maria.
No groom. No wedding. Just a thick Namibian woman who'd fled her own ceremony.
"I need peace," she told Adaeze. "Complete relaxation. Whatever it takes."
"I can provide treatments."
"Provide everything."
The massage began professionally.
Hands on tense shoulders. Working down that thick back.
"You're carrying trauma," Adaeze observed.
"I ran away from my wedding. An hour before."
"Why?"
"Because I felt nothing. For him. For anyone. Until..."
"Until?"
"Until your hands touched me."
Professional became personal.
Adaeze's touch evolved, reading Maria's body for desire, not just tension.
"Is this okay?" she asked.
"More than okay." Maria turned over, exposed. "Please. Make me feel something."
In the luxury suite, surrounded by champagne meant for a wedding, they created their own celebration.
Maria came alive under Adaeze's attention.
"I've never felt this," she gasped. "Never."
"You've been with the wrong people."
"I've been with the wrong gender."
The honeymoon lasted two weeks.
Just them. No outside world.
"What happens now?" Maria asked on the last day.
"Whatever you want."
"I want this. Us. Something real."
Adaeze kissed her answer.
Bath's luxury hotels noted Maria's return visits.
Always the honeymoon suite. Always requesting Adaeze.
They never questioned.
Some treatments, they'd learned, couldn't be found in any brochure.
And some honeymoons just needed the right partner.