Poppy lay under a heated blanket, her face pressed into the circular cushion of the massage table. Layla dug her fingers into the giant knot in Charla’s shoulder. “Just work.” Charla’s voice sounded like a croak. Layla’s magic hands unwound the terrible lump of pain in her shoulder. “No, girl, you been doing a lot more than work. I smell it on you like garlic. A man.” Charla tried to jerk her head up, but Layla gently pressed the back of Charla’s head with her hand. “Girl, not like that. No one else be able to smell you. No one else except that man who’s got his hands all over you. The scent of him is seeping out of your pores. This man has you in deep. I can feel the love oozing out of your body.” Layla’s hand pushed down Charla’s spine with a long, gentle stroke. She stopped at the small of Charla’s back. “Oooo, what’d I say?” Layla pressed around the vertebrae in the small of Charla’s back. “Not two minutes before these muscles were relaxed, and now I’ve gone and said how bad you have it for this man … Oh, you don’t want to have it bad for that man?
