Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Blakely walked down the hallway, yawning.
She nearly dropped the pile of clothes she was carrying. God, she was so tired.
But she wanted to get this laundry put away before she went to bed.
Trouble was, even though she was exhausted, she didn’t think she’d be able to sleep.
And Blakely needed her sleep.
Whenever she closed her eyes at the moment, she replayed that kiss from a week ago.
Over and over.
Until her head wanted to explode.
She kept examining everything she’d said and done that night. Thinking about what she could have done differently. What she’d done wrong.
That kiss was torturing her.
Plus, it was clear that Stafford was now avoiding her.
And that hurt more than anything.
Because she missed him. Blakely hadn’t realized until now how much she liked spending time with him, even if it was just a few minutes here and there.
When she reached his bedroom door, she knocked briefly. She hadn’t heard him come home. If only she could get him alone for a few minutes, then she could . . . what?
Tell him that the kiss meant nothing?
That she wasn’t going to turn into some weird kind of stalker? That she wasn’t dreaming about being the future Mrs. Hill.
Aren’t you?
Groaning quietly, she stepped into the room when there was no reply. She placed the clothes on top of the dresser and turned around.
That’s when she realized that in her half-asleep state, she’d missed something.
Because Stafford was home.
And he was naked. In the shower.
Blakely froze as she stared through the open doorway into the bathroom.
Had he seen her? What did she do?
When he didn’t say anything, she couldn’t help but sneak forward.
What are you doing, Blakely?
She didn’t know, but there was something about the way he was standing that drew her attention. His arm was moving in a rhythmic movement that intrigued he.
It wasn’t until she took a moment to really study him that she realized what he was doing.
Oh. My. Wizard.
He was pleasuring himself.
She placed her hands on her cheeks. They were burning. Yet, she couldn’t turn away.
You should.
This is a private moment between a man, his hand, and his cock.
And, oh Lord, what a cock.
It was steamy so she couldn’t get a good look, but from what she could see it was long. He yanked at it firmly. Far rougher than she would have.
She took a small step back. She knew this wasn’t right.
But it was turning her on. Her clit throbbed, her mouth grew dry.
Leave, Blakely.
You’re no better than the woman who snuck into his bed.
But as she turned away, she heard him groan her name.
What the heck?
“Blakely,” he moaned again.
Her heart raced as his hand stilled. Was he coming?
Was he coming while calling out her name?
What did she do with that? How did she react?
Then he glanced up and stared right at her.
Oh.
Shit.