"You're stricter than the medical equipment," Elias says suddenly. His voice is a low, serrated rumble that vibrates right through Mia's palms.
"I'm thorough," Mia counters. "Unless you'd rather a muscle tear sideline you in the middle of a power play. Then by all means, tell me to stop."
Elias lets out a huff of a laugh, his head still bowed in submission to her touch.
He doesn't argue. He can't.
"Turn around. Give me some room," Mia commands. She pats his shoulder, feeling the rock-hard mass of him beneath her hand. "And pull your shirt up—I need to get to the deep tissue."
Elias's prominent Adam's apple bobs as he swallows.
He turns in the cramped space, the movement bringing his knees dangerously close to hers.
He hooks his fingers under the hem of his shirt and pulls it up, exp
