THE SPITEFUL BRIDE: Marry To Rival's Son novel Chapter 104

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But not everyone had them like Kristen Jackson. Her flesh was pale, and I could see the delicate blue veins underneath, like she didn’t get out in the sun enough. For a short woman, her thighs were long, soft and a little thick, trailing to pretty knees and slender calves, and on one side, a very shapely ankle. I could almost appreciate the Victorian obsession with ankles. Until I carefully worked the fabric over the other side, which was hugely swollen and turning an unattractive rainbow of purple, red and yellow.

My task was done. I stood up from my squatted position, but as I did so, I caught her scent, and my nostrils flared. She’d always smelled very nice for a human, a fact I had always dismissed as nice hair products or lotion. But what I scented now wasn’t a cream she had put on her skin, but the sweet, slightly musky scent of pure s****| arrousal.

I chanced a glance at her face. She was biting her plump bottom lip and staring hard at the sink. Her cheeks were flushed pink and I could hear her accelerated heartbeat.

Internally, my wolf was almost howling with excitement. It took all of my willpower to push him back. This is not the time, nor the place. And the last thing we need is to get involved with another

human woman.

I would be a gentleman, if it killed me. I balled up the jeans and tucked them under my arm. “Is there anything else you need help with?” I asked politely.

“No!” She said too quickly. Then she forced a quivering smile. “Thanks, I can handle it from here.”

I nodded, and backed away slowly. “I’ll have Mrs. Farley bring you a robe for now. And we’ll get you some comfortable clothes. Just give a shout when you are finished.”

“Oh…okay. Um, thanks.”

I went out of the bathroom and shut the door, and then leaned back against it. With my werewolf senses I could still track what she was doing. I heard the rustle of clothes as she finished undressing, and my damned imagination tried to fill in all the details I hadn’t yet seen with my naked eye. I’d felt her waist, though, when I held her in the bed, and I knew her breasts would be full and heavy. Not too big, but in perfect proportion to her petite and curvy body. I bet they were pale too, like her legs, with dusky pink n.ipples.

My body responded eagerly to the image in my mind, and my trousers became uncomfortably tight in the crotch. I closed my eyes and forced a few calming breaths.

I hadn’t had this kind of reaction to a woman in a long, long time.

Behind the door I heard a slight splash. She must have finished undressing and was now sinking

into the warm water.

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< Chapter Twenty-Eight Legs

She gave a slight, satisfied moan as the heat engulfed her body.

$25 Points

Ah hell, I couldn’t take it any more. I fled the room and headed for the back stairs. I would have given anything to rip off my clothes and go for a run. Unfortunately there was no place to wolf-out in the immediate vicinity of my suburban town house.

So, I went for the next best option. The small home-gym. Maybe a grueling physical workout would take my mind off the wet, naked woman in my bathtub.

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Maureen Atsali

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< Chapter Twenty-Nine. Hot Bath

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Hot

Kristen

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125 Points

Getting into the bathtub on one foot was trickier than I thought, but once I slid down into the hot

water, I couldn’t help but moan.

Mr. Falcon’s jumbo size jacuzzi tub was way better than my standard bathtub at home. It was deeper, the seat leaned back so that I could lean back comfortably and rest my head against the back, and even the water was hotter. I propped my foot up on the edge with a hand towel and let the warm water soak away the stress, not only from this bizarre hiking accident, but from the last few weeks of trying to get the ball rolling on the divorce, trying to get enough money in the bank to cover the bills, trying to pull together a new design for a potential client.

In fact, I kind of dreaded going back home and facing life alone again. So why not indulge myself in a couple days of being pampered by Mr. Falcon and his friendly staff? (Well, the housekeeper was friendly, the butler, Mr. Spirko, didn’t say much and appeared to avoid me.)

Ezra Falcon… my mind lazily went back to the feel of his hands on my legs. He had big, beautiful hands with surprisingly rough and calloused palms. Not what I expected from a business

executive.

And you know what they say about men with big hands…? They have a big something-else to match. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was true or just an urban legend. Kevin’s hands were just soft and ordinary, and so was his thing. Our s*x life had dwindled to almost nothing over the last couple of years. He used to say he was too tired, or not in the mood.

Now I knew he was fulfilling his needs elsewhere while I stayed home alone, waiting for him like a good and faithful wife.

Like a silly, naive, trusting i***t. Ignoring my own s****l needs while he got his rocks off with his models and up-and-coming actresses.

I slid a hot wet hand over my breasts.

Well, I had needs, too. And Ezra Falcon’s big, rough hands had brought them flaming to life like a match to gasoline. I tried to remember that he was just Alex’s dad. I knew almost nothing about him except that he was rich and smart, a good dad, and drop dead gorgeous. The way his fingers had accidentally skimmed my thighs as he helped me out of my jeans. His hands were so hot. Like literally, it felt like they branded my flesh. I ran my hands over my thighs, remembering the heated sensation, remembering the way my body had reacted with a rush of its own throbbing, moist

heat.