Ji-hye sat stiffly on the edge of the couch, her toned thighs tense, lips slightly parted. The earlier touch still lingered on her skin—his thumb pressing into the taut flesh of her lower back like it belonged there.
Joon-ho cracked his knuckles softly. "Lie down."
She blinked. "What?"
"If we're doing this properly, I need to access your lower back, glutes, thighs—your whole kinetic chain. That's where the real issue is."
Ji-hye hesitated for half a beat before nodding, then pushed herself up and walked toward the bedroom. Her bare feet padded across the hardwood floor. Harin gave her an encouraging glance but stayed behind, leaving them alone.
Joon-ho followed her in.
The room was quiet, the scent of faint lavender hanging in the air. Ji-hye moved to the bed, eyes flicking to him, then lay down on her stomach, arms folded under her chin.
Her tight training shorts hugged every curve. Her back arched naturally, revealing a sliver of toned waist and a hint of skin where her crop top had ridden up.
Joon-ho stepped closer and gently placed a hand on her lower back.
"Try to relax," he said softly.
She gave a breathless laugh. "Easy for you to say."
His thumbs pressed again—this time slower, deeper—targeting the inflamed strip of muscle along her lumbar spine. Ji-hye jerked slightly, sucking in a sharp breath through her teeth.
"Fuck—why does it hurt so much?"
"Because this is where it actually is. Your previous therapists were treating the wrong place. This isn't surface-level tightness, Ji-hye. It's deep fascia and muscle fiber choking on lactic acid and inflammation."
She moaned—not in pleasure, but in sheer pressure and disbelief. "God... you sound like a goddamn textbook."
He didn't respond. His hands moved lower, along the outer ridge of her hips, then traced down to the top of her glutes. His thumbs dug in, precise and ruthless. Ji-hye grunted into the mattress, legs shifting involuntarily.
"Stay still."
Her breathing picked up. Her fists clenched into the sheets. Each press of his thumbs sent sharp heat racing through her lower body, but as the pain bloomed—something else did too.
A strange warmth. A release.
And arousal.
She was too aware of her own body, the way her nipples had tightened under her shirt, hard and obvious without a bra. The friction of the fabric only made it worse. Every nerve in her body felt naked under his touch.
"Is it supposed to feel like this?" she whispered.
He paused. "Like what?"
Ji-hye didn't answer right away. Her face was flushed. "It hurts, but it's… different. Not just pain."
"Your body's reacting. Blood flow's returning. It's normal."
That was a lie.
Well—half a lie.
Her thighs were tingling. Her pussy throbbed faintly against the mattress, confused and sensitive from the stimulation. She cursed herself for getting wet from a fucking massage.
His hands moved again, now to her hamstrings, kneading slowly up her legs. When his fingers reached the crease between thigh and ass, she bit her lip.
And then—
He stopped.
Ji-hye lifted her head slightly, confused and breathless. "Why'd you stop?"
Joon-ho stepped back. "Because if we're going further, I need you fully committed. The next phase means accessing your hip flexors and glutes from the front. That means lying down—face up."
She stared at him.
"No pressure," he added. "You tell me if you're done. I don't push."
She didn't answer right away. Her heart thumped against the mattress.
Just then, a knock at the door. Harin peeked in.
"Coach Min just got a call," she said. "Something urgent at the training camp. She's heading out."
Ji-hye looked over her shoulder. "She's leaving?"
"Yeah. She said she trusts Joon-ho to finish the session."
The door clicked shut again.
Joon-ho met Ji-hye's eyes.
"So?" he asked, voice calm, unreadable. "We can stop here. Or you can flip over and we go deeper."
Ji-hye hesitated… then gave a single, quiet nod.
She shifted, turned slowly onto her back, and adjusted herself on the bed.
Her shirt had ridden higher now, revealing her abdomen and the lower curve of her ribs. Her nipples strained visibly under the thin fabric, hard and begging. Her shorts barely covered her hips, the inner seam curved tight against the outline of her sex.
She didn't speak.
Neither did he.
Joon-ho stepped closer, placed both hands on her hips, and pressed down gently. The pressure sent heat spiking through her.
"Alright," he said, voice low, fingers already positioning."Let's begin again."