Real hard.
And it’s working.
I grip the hem of my black T-shirt and slowly lift it over my head. Her eyes sweep across my chest, and she quickly looks past my body, but it’s too late. I saw the spark in her eyes.
Her fingertips are cool to the touch, and her nails dig into my flesh as she prods my shoulder.
When she presses on a particular tender spot, I flinch.
“Does that hurt?”
“A little. But only when you press on it.”
She purses her lips and furrows her brow. “Did you have an ultrasound done?”
“Yes. They did a bunch of tests.”
“And what did they find?”
“A small tear, but with time, it’ll heal.”
“If not, then you’ll need surgery to repair it.”
“Yes.”
But that’s not an option. Surgery would mean I’d be out for most, if not all, of the season. And I can’t risk that this year, notwhen I’ll be a free agent and set to make the biggest deal of my career. I’ve worked too damn hard to be in this position.
“Can you lift your arm for me?”
I raise my elbow, and she moves her hand to the front of my shoulder, pressing the space between my shoulder and my pectoral muscle. “Does this hurt?”
“No.”
She presses deeper into the muscle tissue.
I’ve no idea why she’s pressing there when my injury is further away. She massages the area, and as she leans forward to press deeper, a strand of her hair lightly brushes against my chest, directly over my nipple. It hardens immediately and my dick stirs to life.
“Hold on a second. I’ll be right back.” A cool breeze wafts across my skin as she rushes to a bookshelf, and the distance offers me some relief. She opens a box and pulls out a small bottle. “It’s peppermint. It’ll help with the inflammation.”
I’ve taken several over the counter meds to help with the inflammation. But I stay quiet because I’m not stupid. I’m pretty sure she’s going to massage that oil onto my body and just the thought of it makes me want to growl.
“Lay down on your stomach, if that’s okay.”
It’s more than okay, but again, I stay quiet.
Sage’s bracelets jangle and she removes them. “Sorry. I forget they’re there.”
She drops them on the coffee table and rubs the oil all over her hands. Then, she places her hands on my back. Surprisingly, they’re warm, and her fingers massage the oil deep into my shoulder blade.
I groan. I can’t help it. It feels so damn good.
She works her way up to the top of my shoulder and uses her thumbs to knead the knots just beside my neck.
My eyes roll to the back of my head, and I bite my lips to keep myself from moaning.
“You’re really tight.”
“I know.”
