In the hushed intimacy of a backroom, Jillene Mercer's client surrenders to the kneading fingers and firm palms of a masseuse who seems to anticipate every desire. She lingers at his thighs, her touch feather-light yet electric, sending jolts of pleasure through him. When she leans over, her breasts brushing against his back, and whispers, "Do you want more?" the air grows thick with anticipation, the line between professional touch and carnal hunger blurring seductively.