Page 33 of Big Dill

“I uh…I’ve got this kink.” She stretches her neck.

“Kink?” I tease, letting my tone drag slightly, testing her reaction.

Her eyes widen and dart to mine. “I mean in my neck. Right here.” She points as her lashes flutter. “What did you think I meant?”

“That’s exactly what I thought you meant,” I say, keeping my grin in check, though it’s fighting to break free.

She studies me for a moment, curious, calculating, trying to figure me out. I lean forward slightly, keeping my posture relaxed but controlled. “You want me to take a look?”

“No, it’s okay,” she says quickly. “A warm Epsom bath and some stretching will help.”

I stand abruptly, needing to move before my mind wanders too far into other scenarios involving her and baths. “Up,” I command gently, but firmly.

Her gaze follows me, as if she knows exactly what she’s doing to me without a single word.

“On the table.”

“Brody,” she begins and I cock my head. “Right, arguing with you or my brother is an exercise in futility.”

She walks to the table and slides on. “Where exactly does it hurt?”

I listen to the sound of her throat as she swallows. “It’s probably from that flying delivery truck.”

“No doubt, but let me just make sure it’s just muscle strain.” I rub my hands together to warm them before I check out her posture. “Can I touch you?”

She gives a casual shrug of her shoulder. “If you must.”

I walk behind her, put my hands on her shoulders and run my fingers along her muscles. “Let me know if it hurts, okay?”

“Okay,” she squeaks out.

I lightly brush her hair forward, moving it away from her shoulders. I check pressure points and glide my fingertip along her trapezius muscle. “You’re so tight.”

Oh Jesus.

I press into the muscle to relax it, and a small moan catches in her throat. “That’s good,” she murmurs, her words followed by another moan.

Moans.

Lovely.

Just what I need.

I pull back. “How about some heat and then I’ll use the TENS machine.”

“That sounds just about perfect, actually.”

“Do you have a T-shirt on under that sweater?” She nods. “Great, can you take the sweater off and lie down on your stomach for me?”

I turn and rustling sounds reach my ears as she removes her sweater and settles onto the table. I walk over to the heating pads, giving her a moment to get comfortable. I carry them back, plug them in and after they’re warm, I drape them over her back, the warmth seeping into her muscles.

“How’s this?” I ask.

“It’s good,” she murmurs, already leaning into it.

“We’ll give your muscles a minute to warm up first,” I say, stepping back. “Then I’ll do some gentle stretching before hooking you to the TENS.”

“Brody…”