Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Why is it so sexy to watch him load the dishwasher? The muscles in his back flex as he moves, and I bite my lip to hold in the groan. He closes the door to the dishwasher, and I force my eyes to the popcorn ceiling.
As he walks into the living room, I keep my eyes averted. Austin knows me better than anyone, and I definitely don’t want him figuring out what I’m thinking right now.
He stands next to the couch, and I still focus on the ceiling as if I’m enthralled by the water stain that’s been there as long as I can remember.
“What’s wrong, Ally?”
“Nothing,” I mutter.
“Ally.” He sing-songs my name, and I force myself to look at him.
“What?”
He’s standing over me with his hands on his hips. Damn, he’s handsome. He’s making me feel things that I haven’t felt in a long time.
“Talk to me. What’s wrong?”
I close my eyes because he’s too much to look at. That’s it. For the next few months until these pregnancy hormones are under control, I’m going to just refrain from looking at him. “Nothing’s wrong.”
He leans toward me and brushes the hair off my face. “Talk to me, Ally. Something’s bothering you.”
When I ignore him, he asks again. “Ally…”
With my eyes closed, I ask him, “Do you know, everyone in town thinks we’re getting married?”
“Yep,” he answers.
I clench my eyes shut. “And that everyone thinks this baby is yours?”
He’s just as fast to answer. Absolutely no hesitation. “Yep.”
I let out a long breath. “We’re not getting married, Austin.”
He just laughs. “Yes, we are.”
“No, we’re not.”
I shrug my shoulder, refusing to fight with him about this. I feel his leg brush my arm, and I assume he’s walking away. I’m surprised when I feel him wrap his hands around my ankles. My eyes fly open, and I come up on my elbows. “What are you doing?”
He lifts my legs and sits down, then rests my feet on his lap. “Relax, I’m just going to massage your feet, that’s all.”
I’m about to protest until he presses his fingers into the arch of my foot, and instead of stopping him, I let my head fall back with a loud, guttural groan.
He stops, and I jerk my head up to look at him. “God, don’t stop.”
He chuckles and grips my foot. “I’m not.” He presses into my feet, moving from one to the other. I can’t stop the sounds that fall from my lips, and I don’t even try. Whatever he’s doing to me, it feels good.
He moves his hands up my calf and massages me there. “Fuck, Austin, that feels good.”
I can’t resist now. I open my eyes and watch him as his hands move up and down my legs. He’s smiling as he soothes my sore muscles.
His touch goes deeper, and I moan again. “Seriously, if this whole whiskey thing doesn’t pan out, then you could definitely get a job as a masseuse.”
“Ha! Good to know, but I don’t plan on going around giving around massages to people I don’t know.”
I roll my eyes and try to act like the thought of him giving massages to someone else doesn’t bother me when in fact, it drives me crazy. I instantly see red. Just the thought of him touching another woman has me tensing up.
He pats my leg. “What’s up? You’re supposed to be relaxing. Why are you tensed up? What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
“Nothing.”
He pats my leg again and starts on the other one. I stretch my feet out and gasp as I feel it nudge against something hard and erect. I freeze. I should pull away and act like nothing happened, but that’s not who I am. I flex my foot again, and it’s still there. I’m not imagining it. “Uh, Austin?”
He adjusts my feet away from his bulge. His voice is low and strained. “Yeah, baby?”
I swear there’s a tug in my lower belly when he calls me baby. “Uh, what do you have going on down there?”
“If you’re going to moan like that, I’m going to react.”
I throw one arm over my eyes. “Good to know it only takes a sound.”
He stops massaging my feet and wraps both his hands around my ankles. “I’m not a pervert. It takes more than a sound.”
I grit my teeth. “Well, good thing you can go take care of it.”
I don’t want to think about him with another woman, and the idea that he may leave here and go to some woman to satisfy himself makes me ill.
His hands tighten on my ankles. “Ally…”
“What?” I ask him, unable to hide my anger.
“You sound mad.”
I soften my voice, even though my hands are still formed into fists. “I’m not mad. I mean, there’s no reason one of us shouldn’t be scratching their itch. Live it up, Austin. Have fun.”