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I narrowed my eyes at him. “Period sex? Where the hell did that come from?”
“The towels on the bed.”
I sighed and massaged my temples. “I can’t even blame you for thinking that. I can see how the towels could cause some confusion. But no, I planned on giving you a massage after your bath and then fuck you to sleep.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Jonathan mumbled as he pulled the drain out of the tub. I rolled my eyes, handed him a warm towel, and left him to his own devices. I was checking the temperature of the heated body oil when I noticed something amiss.
“Rory?”
I searched between the nightstand and the bed and became frantic when I couldn’t find it. I threw open all the drawers and searched under the bed.
“Kierra? What are you doing down there? I mean, I don’t mind the view.”
I huffed and climbed back to my feet.
“I can’t find Rory’s picture.” Jonathan shot me the same guilty look Casey gave when he got in trouble. “Why did you take it?”
“I didn’t mean anything malicious by it. I moved him to Kiyah’s room out of respect. I didn’t want him watching me…you know.”
“Have period sex with his wife,” I offered with a kind laugh.
Jonathan blushed furiously. “Pretty much. I’m sorry I took the liberty.”
“It’s fine. Thank you for letting me know.”
“You should let me make it up to you,” he said, interloping on my personal space—something I’ve become quite fond of lately. His strong hands massaged my ass through my robe, and I almost melted.
“How do you plan on doing that?”
His mossy green eyes transfixed me as his hands slid to the front of my robe. “May I?”
As if the universe was working in our favor, “Gentleman” by Gallant started playing on the Bluetooth speakers.
“You may,” I replied, giving him my consent.
Seconds later, my robe hit the floor, and a chill trickled down my spine from the overhead fan and anticipation.
“You left very little to the imagination,” Jonathan said, commenting on my mesh bra and panty set as he backed me to the bed. His erection had jutted from underneath the towel around his waist like a heat-seeking missile ready to implode on contact. “Lay on your stomach.”
I took my position at the center of the bed and waited impatiently for him to do his worst. He straddled my ass and unhooked my bra, peeling the flimsy material away. Warm oil splashed onto my back, and I moaned from the contact.
“Is it too warm?”
“Nope…just right,” I sighed as the oil slid languidly down my spine. My eyes fluttered close as he massaged the oil into my skin.
“Jesus, Kierra. You have a knot in your shoulder the size of Mt. Rushmore.”
That reminds me. I need to tell him about Grant, but later.
“It’s Daisy’s fault,” I lied.
“You should stop carrying her around all the time. That goes for all the kids, but I see you with Daisy on your hip the most.”
“That’s because she’s a baby,” I mumbled, trying to fight sleep. “The last one we’ll see in this house.”
Jonathan fell silent as he continued to knead the knots from my body. I felt myself drifting to sleep when he posed a question. “Do you want another child?”
My eyes snapped open, and I felt a rush of adrenaline shoot through me as if I drank two Red Bulls.
