This is a repost of one of my old stories. It's been cleaned up and changed a little, but the core of it is still the same. Enjoy!
-Radiodemon
* * *
Fuck
. Lila tried not to grunt as Dean's elbow dug into the meaty spot under her shoulder blade. Whoever said massage was relaxing obviously had never been on Dean's table.
There were tiny, barely audible crunches as he wiggled the point back and forth, and finally the knot broke free. He moved his elbow up over her shoulder, pressing her farther into the table and pushing the air from her lungs.
"All right?" he murmured. At her gasped "Yes", he repeated the move, the muscles giving more easily this time. The strokes softened, but she braced herself, knowing what was coming.
Yup. Other side.
She was going to be sore in places tomorrow. He never left bruises, thank god, but the accident had screwed up her back pretty badly. She could endure the chiropractic manipulations without too much trouble, and the physical therapy made it so she could work without pain for several hours at a time. But the massages were the worst.
Part of it was her fault. She rarely remembered to stretch, and stretch properly, and the memories of the hardcore massage Dean gave her had her glossing over the recommended weekly session. If her back wasn't bothering her too much, she'd wait a month. If it was worse, she'd wait three weeks.
This time, though, a spasm right between her shoulder blades was making it painful to breathe, and she'd been desperate. A last minute trip to the chiropractor had only succeeded in making it worse, and she'd been forced to call the massage clinic and schedule an appointment.
When she'd walked in, wincing in pain and bent over, Dean told her to go home and ice the spot every few hours, then made her an appointment for the following day. The ice had dulled the sharp, bright pain, and his strong fingers had soothed the rest. She'd thought maybe she'd gotten lucky this time when he went to work on the rest of her back.
He adjusted the sheet covering her lower body and stroked over her lower back, fanning out over her pelvic bones. This was one of the embarrassing areas. His hands would always dip slightly below the sheet, just under the waistband of her underwear, working the tiny muscles at the base of her spine, out over her hips. But his hands never lingered, and the touch was never a light, teasing one, and any lustful thoughts were quickly blown away by the heel of his palm rubbing into the soft skin hanging over her hips.
Lila had tried ridding herself of those extra pounds for years before she'd finally learned to accept that maybe they weren't meant to go away. They weren't noticeable when she was dressed, and men didn't pay attention to them during sex, and they balanced out her full hips nicely. But then Dean had to go prodding at them to find her hip abductors and her insecurities flared up all over again.
"You haven't been stretching here properly, have you?" She emitted a tiny squeak of pain as his thumb came into contact with a sensitive spot.
"No," she admitted. Then bit her lip as he grabbed with both hands and rolled the muscles underneath.
She heard him sigh. "Your back is never going to get better if you don't follow all the doctor's instructions.
All
of them, Lila," he chastised. He pulled the sheet up and smoothed it over her upper body before uncovering her left leg, tucking the sheet up above her hip and between her legs.
Further conversation was discouraged by his forearm sliding over her hamstring.
He moved on to the part that made her the most uncomfortable. The accident had screwed up her whole back, but the most serious spot was her lower back and hips. Ostensibly the massage therapy was for the problems she had with her hips; she couldn't sit for long periods of time. In order to fully rehabilitate the muscle group, he had to put his hands on her ass. It wasn't sexy in any way, shape, or form. The sheet and her underwear stayed in place, his fingers never touching the skin. And he used his damn elbow. All. The. Time.
She couldn't stop the whimpers of pain. It was like the nerve endings radiating out toward her hip were super sensitive and on fire, and Dean's elbow found each and every one of them.
"Lila?" At the hand on her shoulder, she lifted her head from the cradle. "If it hurts, you need to tell me."
She nodded miserably. "Sorry. It's just...I know it's supposed to help, and afterward it does feel looser, but there's this shooting pain every time you work...there." Her cheeks heated and she dropped her gaze. It landed on his groin, and her cheeks flamed hotter.
He sighed, and she forced herself to look at him again. His brown eyes warmed with a small grin. "I can try something different. But if it hurts, say something, okay? I don't want to make your injuries worse." He hesitated. "Um. I'll have to use my hands, and I'll need to move the sheet out of the way. Your underwear stays on," he added hastily. "I'll be able to find the knots easier and use less pressure. Is that okay?"
If by less pressure he meant less painful for her, she was quite okay with it. And she trusted him. Whenever she'd watched him while he was working on her front, he was staring off into space. Never at her. They'd be fine. "Okay," she whispered.
She lowered her head to the cradle as Dean pushed the sheet farther out of the way. It still covered her crotch, exposing only part of her panty-covered butt. The first touch almost had her shifting away. His hands were warm, very warm, and her face flamed all over again as his fingers began kneading his way inward.
Then his thumbs pushed in to the ridge of muscle and she almost groaned. There was some discomfort, but no needle-sharp shards of pain shooting down the back of her leg. He continued working his way over the joint, careful to keep his fingers on top of her panties. Her embarrassment ebbed and flowed, until she resigned herself to it. It was easier to tolerate than the elbow. And he was a professional.
So why were his fingers suddenly soft and drifting over the curve of her ass?
The sensation quickly disappeared as he adjusted the sheet so it covered her butt completely and he moved on to her calf and foot. This was one of the few parts she enjoyed, having her feet rubbed. She never could quite get the stretches right when it came to her feet, and her physical therapist said it was important to keep them in good shape. She'd had to give up her heels until her back wasn't spazzing out on her any more.
He worked his way up the other side, repeating the gentler moves on her other hip joint. Again the brief touch of his hand skimming the curve. Then it was gone and he was holding up the sheet so she could turn over. Half an hour later the massage was over, and the spot between her shoulder blades was no longer spasming with each breath.
She emerged from the room, dressed and slightly flustered, and Dean grinned and handed her a paper cup of water. "You know you're allowed weekly visits. You want your back to get better, you should take advantage of them."
She eyed him with suspicion. It wasn't the upselling; her visits were covered by insurance, and the copay was negligible. But she couldn't dismiss the fleeting skim of his hand over her ass. Was he trying to cop another feel? Had he been doing that in the first place?
Stop it
