And now I was being forced to face it.
I’m not sure how long I stayed there in the middle of the shower on my knees crying out every ounce of pain inside of me, but when it was over I felt purged.
Stepping out of the shower, I grabbed the towel and began to dry myself off. Halfway through I wiped away the fog on the mirror and looked at myself. Standing there naked, I looked over my body. Then I stared into my face, my reflection. I was fine. I was strong. It was ok to break down sometimes.
I’d been through a horrific ordeal. Now it was time to start putting things together.
I finished drying off and as I stepped back into my bedroom to put on my pajamas, I heard a knock at the door.
“Libby? It’s Mason,” the voice came.
I grabbed a robe from the bathroom and wrapped myself up, making sure it was properly closed before opening the door.
Mason was standing there with a few towels in his hand.
“I wasn’t sure you had enough,” he said.
He handed me the towels.
I smiled and thanked him as I grabbed them from his hand. As I did so, I felt a twinge of pain in the back of my shoulder. One of the towels fell from my hand as I instinctively grabbed my shoulder and winced.
Mason picked up the towel.
“Are you alright?” He asked.
“Yeah, I guess I must have hurt my shoulder more than I realized today.”
“Yeah, it might just be a muscle strain or spasm,” he said. Then he paused, as if waiting for me to ask him something. When I didn’t, he volunteered a question. “Would you like me to massage it out for you?”
I wasn’t sure at first. The idea had come completely out of left field and caught me by surprise. But it was enticing on a few levels. I was certain that it would help the pain, and I was sure that it would feel good.
“OK,” I said.
I stepped back into the room and Mason followed.
“Just have a seat on the bed there,” he gestured.
I sat down on the edge of the bed and swallowed hard. I was suddenly feeling very nervous about this.
Mason stood behind me and leaned over slightly. His warmth was close; it felt reassuring.
His hands pulled the robe down just far enough to expose my shoulder. I kept my arms tightly crossed to make sure the front did not fly open.
Suddenly, his rough, strong hands were on my skin. He was pressing against me, moving in circular motions at first, and then back and forth as if trying to spread my skin out. Then he added the pressure.
I winced at first. He intuitively knew where to press and he was right on the spot. It was sore and I could feel the muscle quivering with stubbornness underneath his manipulation.
His fingers were increasing their pressure, but ever so slightly. My body began to warm up and I felt a growing sense of comfort and attraction. My mind started to wander and I hoped that at some point he would just turn my head towards him and kiss me. We were already on the bed. It would have been so easy for him to just take me and ravage me.
And I would have let him. I wanted it more than I’d realized before. But did I want it because of my lust for him, or were the events of the day a contributing factor.
So what if they were? It was ok. I was allowed to seek comfort during moments of weakness.
Mason placed on hand over the other then and began to add a little more pressure, using his bottom hand to knead deeper into the skin and the muscle, while applying overall pressure with his top hand. I was feeling so relaxed. And I realized for the first time exactly how exhausted I felt. I just wanted to close my eyes and forget that a horrifying day like today had actually happened.
“How is that?” Mason asked.
“Good,” I said. My voice came out as more of a purred whisper than I’d intended it to. I was leaning my head back slightly, giving a bit more of myself into the movement to just add that slight bit of resistance, which increased the pressure even more. It was almost painful now, but the after effects were already present, the loosening of the muscle.
I was getting a little wet. I could feel myself getting turned on. Mason’s hands were so perfect, rugged, and masculine. They felt every bit has strong and hard as a construction worker’s. He was a man who was not afraid to get down in the muck and lead by example. I saw a bit of that earlier today when he’d arrived to my aid. He was just a few minutes too late, but he came running without a moment’s hesitation.