Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 128307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
My body hasn’t stopped buzzing with anticipation all day.
I call myself an idiot when Grayson pulls his hand away from my face a second before he blows the eyelash he caught on my cheek off his index finger. It floats in the minuscule portion of air between us before it lands on his big toe.
I’m one hundred percent convinced that the increase in blood flow during pregnancy has gathered in one region of my body when I admire the sexiness of his bare feet.
Is anything about this man ugly?
“Macy…” Grayson murmurs, drawing my focus away from his hairless toes.
My limbs feel the weight of concrete, but it is for an entirely different reason than a baby’s head squashing nerves I had no clue I had. It is from the way Grayson murmured my name. It was hot and virile, like the sweetness of our dessert is still clinging to his tonsils.
“Yeah.” I swallow to soothe my suddenly parched throat before peering up at him.
Grayson’s wolfish smirk when he spots my perplexed expression makes desire crackle through me like a glow stick being activated. Its effect is bright and immediate, and it creeps up my neck and across my cheeks as fast as it dilates my eyes. “I said goodnight.”
“Oh. Um… night.”
Although I bid him goodnight with both words and a smile, my feet remain rooted. A hormone imbalance could have me mistaking the tension crackling in the air, as it has multiple times today, yet it is so white-hot that sweat beads on my nape.
It also proves that what Grayson said is factual. Whether through a monitor or in person, the truth can’t be hidden from a skilled profiler. I want him, badly. I just don’t know how to be a woman and an agent at the same time, and I’m too scared to attempt a thorough study of my theory on a man way out of my league.
“Huh?” I murmur, still in a trance from how good my shampoo smells on his skin when Grayson repeats my name.
He strokes my cheek again, sending a flurry of activity breaking across my skin. “Do you need my help with something?” His dilated eyes bounce between mine as he steps closer—like there’s any room left. “These are your confused cheeks, aren’t they, freckles?”
“Um…” Too scared at the thought of losing him as a friend, I don’t kiss him as my heart is screaming at me to do. I downplay the tension by asking if he wants to sign up to be my body pillow again.
Even that seems a stretch when my eyes land on the file behind him. It reminds me that he’s not here for me and that I’m not meant to be wasting my time on anyone but Kendall’s abductors.
“I’m joking. I was just…” Out of lies, and not eager to use them again so soon after pledging not to issue this man even a little white lie, I mumble a second “Night” before heading to the bedroom to sulk in privacy.
My steps into my room slow when I notice a glass bottle sitting on the mattress. Its liquidity consistency isn’t obvious until I read the label.
Perineal massage oil.
I swallow loudly enough for Adeline to hear, and Grayson has me wishing he had placed squeaker dots on his socks instead of non-slip ones. “It’s safe for all regions of your body. Including…” A cough finalizes his reply.
Though I could end this conversation now and die a thousand deaths in peace, the past two hours of normality have my heart speaking first. “Am I meant to just rub it in or…?”
When he remains quiet, I spin to face him. His cheeks are as red as mine feel, and although I can’t see my eyes, I’m confident they’re as dilated as Grayson’s.
“There’s an entire chapter on perineal massages in your book.” He gestures his head at the book I’ve spied him reading on a handful of occasions over the past few days. “It gives a few pointers on how to use the oil to prepare for childbirth.” He enters the room, filling it with his delicious scent, before he thumbs through the book he referenced. Once he finds the page, he licks his lips before peering at me through hooded eyes. “It even gives examples.”
The diagrams are graphic for a novice of graphic romance novels, but they paint the entire picture of perineal massages.
After taking in a passage that explains how the daddy-to-be can assist the mother with perineal stretching, I ask through a burning throat, “Do you think it will help?”
Grayson’s Adam’s apple bobs before he shrugs. “There’s no harm in trying. It won’t hurt anything. It will just loosen you up a little.”
Again, I continue flogging the dead horse I haven’t let rest today. “Okay. I’ll give it a go.”
“Now?” Grayson’s voice is so loud that if Adeline was asleep, she isn’t anymore.