Home > Urban Justice (A Chicago Vigilantes Novel #2)(46)

Urban Justice (A Chicago Vigilantes Novel #2)(46)
Author: India Kells

As a comparative, she unfastened his left leg and ran her fingers against the joint. Aleksei remained still as a statue, only answering her questions with a yes or no. When she returned and touched just below his right knee, she felt him tense in anticipation. “Does that hurt?”

“No.” And she had guessed right. Gently, she let her fingertips glide over his knee, feather-light. Continuing her examination, she didn’t detect any edema or inflammation, but some tension. A few inches past the problematic area, she pressed harder on the thigh muscle, and the man jerked.

“Did it hurt?” Same question, but this time he hesitated.

“It’s a kind of ache, but there’s no pain.”

As she suspected, she got back on her feet. “Lie down.”

“I don’t need to lie down for you to treat knee pain.”

Crossing her arms, Deva looked at the man who was annoying her, and more. “Your knee is okay so far, but the tension in the thigh muscle is pulling too much on it. If you don’t relieve some of the tension, it can impact your tendons and then provoke knee pain. It seems to be a common pain with you fighters, along with shoulders and lower back pain. With you sitting like that, it doesn’t give me proper access.”

“Access?” Aleksei arched a brow as if he didn’t understand the sentence.

“Do you want me to help you? Because I’m too tired to play games. If you don’t, I’ll close up here and go take a shower at home and eat.” She knew she had an opening, the first and maybe only one, and by playing hard, she may lose it. However, acting out of character would be a dead giveaway.

The man’s eyes darkened into a storm of gray clouds, his jaw tight as he debated.

“And if I don’t trust you. You’ll have the upper hand, with me lying on my back.”

“I won’t threaten your virtue, fighter. And it’s a question of trust, isn’t it? What if I have a blade in my boot or poison in my massage oil?”

His jaw tightened more, and he swallowed before relaxing again and shifting to sit and then lie on his back, his eyes never leaving hers. “Do your worst.”

It was a strange sensation to have a man under her hands that she knew was dangerous and represented everything she despised, and yet, she still trusted him despite his power and strength. He may be docile at the moment, but he could turn on her suddenly. Deva fed on his power, giving her the edge, she needed to continue, steadying her in the process.

Without a word, ignoring his focus on her, she started removing his running shoes and socks, one foot, then the other. Then, Deva grabbed a sling with her oil bottle as well as two other containers and moved to Aleksei’s side. Without waiting for his permission, she finished opening his pants, one side, and then, the other. And as she suspected, he had running boxer briefs underneath. She folded the top half of the pants and put it on the small side bench. And as the black brief ran on the longer side over the leg, she pushed it up some more. His hips shifted slightly, but she didn’t dare look up at his face. Deva was glad that the heat rising to her face could be cleverly hidden by her recent run and the dim ambient lights. Her skin had always been pale, color rising quickly to her cheeks, revealing her emotions too much.

Ignoring her own restlessness, she pumped oil into her hands, warming it a bit before gliding her palms against the adorned expanse of skin and muscle. Adding pressure ever so slowly, she contoured the tense muscle repeatedly, following it onto the knee. Satisfied with its reaction, Deva worked on the upper part of the thigh, inching higher and higher, even working her fingers underneath the leg of the boxer briefs. Aleksei inhaled sharply but didn’t comment. It wasn’t necessary; his body gave her all the proof she needed; his cock pushing hard against the dark fabric of his underwear. Her professionalism winced at what she was about to do, but she was very curious about how much she could push her luck. After all, Gabrielle, Lazarus, and Beatrice wanted her to establish a relationship with the man. Here was an opportunity to be friendly, and their connection was burning too hot to be on the friendly side. Only one option remained.

“Remove your underwear.”

It was pure pleasure for Deva to see him blink. It was obvious he hadn’t been stunned often but Aleksei recovered quickly as his wicked grin reappeared with a vengeance. So, it seemed he hadn’t expected his appointment to be completely professional.

“Well, I see you have changed your mind.”

“Not at all, your thigh muscle is connected to your hip, and I need access, your briefs are in the way. If you are shy, Mr. Voronov, let me get you a sheet to cover yourself up. I must have a small one perfect for you somewhere.”

When she sidestepped as if to go and get one, a strong hand closed around her wrist. Turning back to him, Aleksei’s eyes were on her, heat replacing sarcasm. Letting go of her, and never breaking eye contact, he swiftly removed and tossed away his t-shirt and boxers, offering an unencumbered view of his naked form.

There he was, gloriously naked, a woman’s wet dream, well, hers at least. And he was a big man. His cock hardened under her stare, bobbing toward his abs, darkening as she detailed its texture and veins. And she wasn’t the only one affected. Aleksei was breathing harder, his body tensing, showing his ripped, quivering muscles on display. What she admired almost as much as his cock, was the level of restraint. He could have reached for her, pulled at her clothing, but he didn’t. He lay there, rigid, staring.

Deva let her eyes drag over him, detailing his ink and his skin, until she reached his eyes, a gray so dark now, the same color of the clouds just before the first cracks of lightning. Mechanically, her hands returned to his knee, and she heard him hiss and speak words she didn’t understand.

Back to the task at hand, she focused on the muscle, repeating the same pattern as before, but with longer strokes toward his lower belly and hip. As her hands teased close to the junction of his thighs, he parted them slowly, offering a clear view of his sack. A silent plea she would ignore for now, as she did her own ache between her legs. When her hand splayed on his hip, he bowed slightly, and it took everything in her to ask him if he was in pain. But in the end, she couldn’t resist.

“Da, I’m in pain. But not where you are touching me.”

Breathless, Deva continued her massage. Forcing groans from him, the pressure of her fingers working on his tense muscle. As the touch was less sensual, she saw his member deflating a bit. It took a while for her to be satisfied with her work, and was glad to see a mist covering his delectable skin. At least, she wasn’t the only one who had to work for it.

“On your left side, please.”

Without a word he complied, and in this position, she could leisurely ogle his admirable backside. Her hands worked tirelessly on his lower back, hip and lower abdomen until the problematic muscle softened, and something rather rigid touched her wrist. Did she dare to touch him now? Or not?

Oiling her hands once more, Deva bypassed finesse and grabbed his throbbing member in her warm, slippery hand.

The sound coming from Aleksei made her clit throb in desperation, so much so that she squeezed her thighs together hard, trying to alleviate the intensity of the sensation. Leaning her mound against the table, she rocked, seeking pressure, as her hand fisted him, exploring the texture of his skin, the tremors and trembling, the increased pumping of blood. She didn’t increase the pressure or pace, simply stroking him at the same time she pressed against the table, her other hand keeping her upright.

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