Page 116 of Into These Eyes
Then, ever so casually, his hand lands on my foot and draws it onto his lap. I do nothing to stop him when he does the same with the other one.
He cups one foot and rests his other palm on my shin, his thumb ever-so-gently rubbing slow circles above my ankle. “So, what do you think your mother’s letter might say?”
“What we watched tonight is enough to think about for a while. I’ll just wait until Anika gets home to deal with what Mum had to say.”
His thumb pauses. “You still haven’t told her about your father … about me, have you?”
Our eyes meet as I tense beneath his hand. “She’ll know before she comes home. I promise.” Unable to bear the disappointment staring back at me, I rise onto my elbows in a weak attempt to escape. “I should get back to the affidavit.”
“No.”
“No?”
“There’s only one thing you need to do. And that’s relax,” he says firmly, his thumb grazing my skin again.
“Gavin, I should finish—”
“Actually,” he interrupts, squeezing my foot, “I don’t want you even thinking about that affidavit until next year.”
“But I want to get everything—”
“No. I catch you working on anything to do with me, I’m firing you.”
I feel like such a fraud. He’s making it way too easy to keep Pete’s promise without ever having to tell him I’m purposely delaying what he wants most in this world. After all, the longer it takes, the longer he’ll stay here.
“Fine,” I grumble.
With a satisfied smirk, he tilts his head. “Good. Now that’s settled, you need to unwind. Can I please help you with that?”
He thinks he’s getting everything his own way? “I don’t need—”
As he applies pressure to the bottom of my heel with his thumbs, he drags them into my arch and up to my toes.
“Oh, God …” I groan, letting my body drop back to the couch.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he says matter-of-factly.
Smug bastard.
My eyes flutter closed, and a sigh of pleasure escapes my throat as his fingers work their magic. “Deeper,” I murmur.
He digs into my arch, the pressure painfully delicious.
“Mmm … yessss … that’s it. Right there,” I groan. “Oh God, that feels so …good.”
“Quiet,” he orders.
My eyes snap open at his sudden sharpness. His hands betray nothing, but the rapid rise and fall of his chest and flare of his nostrils tell a different story. He’s worked up. A surge of heat burns my face and ignites between my legs as the reason for his abrupt command dawns on me. My verbal reactions to his wonderful fingers sounded like … well, I suppose what I imagine I might sound like during sex.Greatsex.
“Just relax. Close your eyes, J.” That same thick raspiness I heard in his voice this morning turns my insides to mush.
As he begins working on my other foot, I do as he says, relinquishing all control. Literally putting myself in his hands.
He knows I’ve never been touched like this, and I’m sure he hasn’t touched anyone this way either. Damn, he’s a natural. I sigh, careful not to let it turn into a moan, even though that’s exactly what my throat wants to release.
As he alternates between my feet, working them from tired nubs to clouds of nothingness, I’m lulled into a deep state of relaxation.
Wait. Did he call me Jay?
