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I continue to read his chapter, fascinated by the difference from who he portrays himself to be. I raise from the seat, book clutched in one hand, holding it up to my nose. Choosing to remain immersed in the words before me. Carrying the other books in a basket at my side, I take a sharp turn in a stack, hoping for a few more uninterrupted moments before I need to look for the next book on the list.
“You’re going to get hurt like that.” A deep musical voice sounds beside me, pulling me from my daze. Startled, I drop the basket of thick, heavy, hardback books directly onto my foot. I yelp in pain at the contact. However, my momentum still launches me forward. Causing me to trip over the basket, and propelling me towards the ground.
Warm, masculine hands wrap around my waist. Catching me just inches before I faceplant into the plush red carpet. I exhale a sigh of relief, my feet scrambling for purchase, slipping against the rug. I feel his body hovering over mine, the hard ridges of his chest brushing against my back as he supports my weight.
His hands land on my waist, rotating me to face him, and I suck in a sharp breath at the unexpected movement. The gleam of the overhead light temporarily blocks my vision before he comes into focus. The lights above him cast a halo around his form. One strong protective arm still circles my waist while the other slides up to cradle my head, his fingers threading through my hair.
My breath gets caught in my throat as his honey-brown eyes meet mine, twinkling with amusement. His warm gaze drinks me in as his face hovers mere inches from mine. A spark darts between us as he lets loose a warm, soft breath of air, his eyes looking between mine, searching my gaze.
He slowly lifts me, my feet finally finding purchase on the smooth floor. My heels wobble as my weight shifts back to them, and his arms band tighter around me, making sure I don’t fall. The movement causes our chests to brush against one another, the warmth of his smoothly muscled chest comforting me. His short, light brown curls are tousled deliciously, making me want to run my fingers through his soft locks.
His lips slowly part, as though he wants to say something but cannot find the words. The look in his eyes sends a pang of fear through me. Instinctively not wanting to hear what he might be about to say.
I snap out of my trance, tensing in his arms. My muscles take on my own weight once more, no longer allowing myself to melt into him. His gaze shifts, realizing the change in my body language. All words he may have uttered are lost as he moves his lips into a polite smile. He clears his throat and releases me, reluctantly stepping away.
I mirror his movement, taking a step back to get a slice of my sanity back without having my head fog over at the enticing smell of his sandalwood cologne. I stop short, the movement causing a whimper to slip past my lips. I wince and attempt to shuffle my foot that took the brunt of the impact from the fallen books.
Only then does the pain invade my body—now that the adrenaline is wearing off. The man rushes forward, not missing a beat. He supports my weight once more, arm wrapping around my waist and he props his shoulder under my arm. His warm, supportive hands send a hum of pleasure through me.
“What’s wrong?” His voice is panicked, worry creasing his brows as he looks down at me.
“I think I broke my foot.” I wince, worry clouding my thoughts. The implications of a broken foot rush through my mind. I hold it limply in the air, refusing to put any pressure on it. His lips purse, eyes moving down to inspect my foot.
“Let’s get a better look at it.” He guides me back down the aisle to the chair I just came from. He supports most of my weight and I hop one-footed beside him, which is quite a feat in heels, if I do say so myself. After only a few steps, he pauses, looking down at me with a kind smile that melts my heart.
“May I?” he asks before stooping to scoop me into his arms. I let loose a tiny squeak, caught off guard by the sudden movement before I’m lifted into the air. He cradles me against his chest, his arms wrapping around my back and under my legs bridal style. Making me feel safe and secure as his arms cocoon around me.
I’m both comforted and terrified by this as I shift in his arms. Deciding to push aside the fear creeping around me, I turn off my brain, and allow myself to enjoy this moment rather than overthink it. Hoping he won’t notice, I nuzzle into his chest slightly, breathing in his masculine scent as I allow him to carry me over to the chair.
I feel the rumble of his chest vibrating against my cheek before I hear the hushed chuckle escape his lips. I playfully narrow my eyes at him and he quickly darts his gaze back up. Not meeting my eyes as a broad grin stretches across his lips. He attempts to hold back another chuckle, but again I feel it against my cheek. I mean, sure, he caught me snuggling into his chest, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop. I’m way too comfy for that.
Unfortunately, his muscular, long legs get us to the chair too quickly, and before I know it, he’s placing me down onto the plush leather chair. He lowers to one knee. Taking my foot in his hand. He gently takes off my heel, placing it on the floor before inspecting my foot.
“Well, the good news is, it isn’t broken. Just bruised.” He looks up at me to find me looking down at him skeptically. My eyes narrow to assess him.
“How can you be so sure? Are you a doctor or something?” I ask, unsure how he could make such an assessment so quickly. I mean, it really hurt.
“No offense, but I should probably go get it checked out by a medical professional. Are there even doctors here?”
He chokes out a laugh at my rambling. His fingers moving up to my thigh, trailing soft teasing touches as he strokes the sensitive skin there in an attempt to soothe my racing mind.
My thoughts immediately cut off at the touch of his fingers teasing along my skin. Making all logic impossible. Watching his finger dance across my skin in slow circles sends a gradual heat rushing through my veins. I bite my bottom lip, my breaths coming in a stuttered gasp, catching in my throat. His hand raises a few inches, unknowingly teasing me further.
His eyes, once locked on the movements his hand is making on my skin, flash up to take me in as pleasure rushes through me at his slight touch. His warm hungry eyes drink in my flushed cheeks, catching on my plump bottom lip that’s still caught between my teeth.
It is torture having his face so close to where I desperately need some friction. My body screams at me to open my knees, inviting his hands to tease other more sensitive areas.
I don’t even know this man’s name yet, and I’m already picturing his hands caressing further up my inner thighs, his head dipping below my skirt. His hands moving my barely-there red lace thong out of the way. Tongue circling my needy clit, and those long, deft fingers stroking up inside me.
It takes all of my willpower not to do just that. I mentally scream at myself that I don’t know this man. Yet my body keeps trying to rebel, begging for his touch. Needing to invite his hands further.
After what seems like a lifetime, he slowly moves his hand from my thigh, allowing me to pull in a deep sobering breath. He gently cups my foot, and I hear the gulp of air as he swallows deeply, attempting to compose himself.
“You don’t need a doctor.” His smile is kind, and his eyes warm when he meets my gaze, tempering the hunger there just a few moments prior. I look back at him, brow furrowing in confusion, not remembering what he is talking about until my foot twinges in pain at his soft movement.
“I can heal it,” he explains softly, holding my foot up before him. My breath comes in sharply, surprised at the soft glow emanating from his hands. The ethereal glow wraps itself around my foot, warming my skin in a comforting way, the pain decreasing with each moment.
Sighing in relief, my eyes fall shut and I relax back into the chair, the power sinking into my skin, mending the bruising there. The warmth fades away, and my eyes blink open at the energy leaving me. A mix of euphoria and loss twists inside me in the absence of the comforting glow. My skin now feels cold and bereft.
