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There’s something about being this vulnerable with her…
And it is a vulnerability. It isn’t that the twinges in his back aren’t common knowledge. It isn’t that it’s hard for anyone to notice the slight stiffness in either knee as he pulls himself up from a crouched position. Still…
It’s a little different when Ginny is witness to Mike’s hiss of breath and barely there wince of his eyes. He isn’t weak; he’s far from letting himself think that. But… Maybe it’s the old man remark. Or maybe it’s seeing the ease in which he watches Ginny push herself and succeed. Or maybe it’s a foreign feeling of trying to figure out his own self-worth.
Whatever it is, it takes a while to get over. A while to not hide the physical pain of a slight back spasm. A while to not dismiss the ache of his knees with a bit of a gruff rumble or an easy joke at his own expense. Because… because…
Mike can appreciate the grip of Ginny’s strong and lean thighs hugging his hips tightly. It takes every fiber of his being to not verbally moan out in pleasure at how her weight hit on a sweet spot at his lower back. But…
Mike lets out a ragged breath as Ginny’s fingers run firmly up his back on either side of his spine. His cheek falls heavily onto the mattress of the bed as each whole hand- long fingers and palms- grips at his shoulders and presses deeply into the muscles.
Her laugh is throaty above his head and not nearly close enough to his ear.
“Is this okay?” she asks from above him.
Mike shimmies his hips, loving the way her thighs grip even tighter and the friction being created from where their bodies meet.
“It’s okay,” he mutters thickly, closing one eye while straining to catch any sight of her out the other.
The laugh is back as Ginny works on the muscles at his neck before gliding firmly back the way she’d come.
“Well, I know I’m not as good as the paid guys in the clubhouse,” she teases lightly.
Not as good? Mike keeps the grunt to himself.
“Believe me, Baker.” The thought of twisting around to face her enters his mind and is quickly dismissed as she hits a particular tight spot. “Your massages have some kind of healing power that I ain’t never felt before.”
Ginny doesn’t keep her grunt in. “I really do try my best.”
And then her weight is shifting, her body covering more of his back with this delicious pressure.
“All or nothing?” Mike asks, lifting his head and attempting to see more of her than just the golden brown of a leg and a hint of toned arm.
“One-hundred percent,” Ginny assures him easily.
It puts a smile on his face. “That’s my girl.”
There’s a part of him that wants to forgo the feeling of the massage. There was a part of him that was ready to risk the not-quite-knocked-out kink in his back if Ginny wouldn’t mind staying in that position above him while he moved from his stomach and onto his back. He’d promise himself to not have her do all the work, but couldn’t lie about how good the idea of watching her from that position.
There is another part of him that couldn’t deny how true his words had been: there’s something magical about her hands.
Mike laments, letting his cheek fall once more to the mattress. This time, both eyes close.
Perhaps she rethinks something as well; she settles her ass on his lower back.
“I like being your girl,” she tells him softly. And then her hands are proving to be magic once more.
There is definitely something about being this vulnerable with her…
Then again…
Mike slides his hand from the mattress until he is gripping that visible leg, cupping her at her knee.
There is something quite special when Ginny Baker is just as vulnerable.