Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 237(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 237(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
I don’t mean it in a bad way either, and Foxx seems pleased with my response, making that low groan of his. It makes me picture him beating his chest with some huge wild animal he’s brought back to the cave over his shoulder.
“I actually think I’ve moved pretty slowly if I’m honest,” he says, cocking his brow. His smoldering dark eyes filled with a light that we both know means I’ve uncovered his plan.
“But before any of that, I need you rested. Get this ankle properly supported and –,” he says thoughtfully, then breaking off.
“And what?” I ask. A ripple of excitement runs through me at the thought I might have skipped a step in his grand plans for me.
He only shrugs a little. “I’m just amazed they never even put a support brace or bandage on your ankle.
“How’s this feel? How’s this really feel?” he asks me in his doctor’s voice, gently lifting my ankle out of the water, cradling it like it’s a precious object.
“It never hurts when you’re touching me,” I mew.
And that’s the truth.
“But it does feel better,” I add, wondering how soon it’ll be before I actually have to walk instead of him carrying me everywhere.
“That’s good,” he murmurs. “Swelling has gone down,” he notes clinically, which makes me giggle again.
His fingers tracing my sensitive foot does it, but I can’t help but notice his own swelling has subsided, too, just for now.
We stay in the tub until Foxx notes how wrinkly my toes are. A sure sign I’m done.
“I’ll help dry you off, and then I think you should get some rest,” he says, with no argument from me.
I don’t know where he gets his energy from, but I was ready for a nap right after he re-educated me on having a life-changing orgasm.
I nod in agreement and watch him lift my leg and rest it on the edge of the tub. I smile as I try not to giggle again, watching him get his huge frame out of the bath without moving me.
“How do you stay so… ya know? Fit,” I hear myself asking once he lifts me again after reaching for an oversized towel, wrapping me up.
I'm not even hiding my disbelief or how the way he looks affects me.
But would I still love Foxx if he looked any different?
I know I would, but you don't ask too many questions when life gives you a Rolls Royce.
“I dunno,” he says after thinking about it, walking me through to his bedroom. He gives no thought to the water still dripping off his chiseled body. Every step, every action is so definite, too. It’s as if every part of Foxx is like a force of nature.
“There’s a gym through there,” he remarks. He casts his eyes to a door at the end of the hall.
“But I’ve just always been me, I guess,” he shrugs.
“Let’s get you settled, huh?” he suggests, only needing a few of his huge steps to reach his room and lower me gently on his bed again.
Naked under my towel, I almost feel the old self-image problems until I see Foxx’s face. His look when his eyes travel over me, his low groan of pride, satisfaction, and relief, takes away all my insecurities for the time being.
He is propping a pillow under my ankle, making sure he doesn’t start fiddling with anything else as he stands over me.
“I’ll get you a comforter,” he rumbles. But my comforter’s right here in front of me.
“Would you lay down with me?” I ask. “Just until I….” I try to get up, stifling a wide yawn as he smiles.
“I’ll sit with you,” he says tenderly, moving out of the room to get the comforter.
He reminds me to stay put. But I know better than to break doctor’s orders.
I drift off the moment he’s gone, though, and wake to the sound of my own snores. I feel my face flush when I do wake up.
The comforter is a little tangled, and my mouth is dry. My whole body aches, but in the best way possible.
I begin wiggling my toes, then dare to flex my ankle. I’m surprised when it only hurts a little bit. And no more swelling.
I open my mouth to call out for Foxx.
The large dent in an easy chair right by the bed tells me he’d been sitting there watching over me while I slept.
Wincing at the thought of him watching me snore is interrupted by the sound of the doorbell right when I start to call him.
And from the sounds of it, he’s already at his front door.
His deep voice travels up the hall, reaching my ears along with a sultry-sounding female voice that finds me sitting up in bed in a second.
Untangling myself from the comforter and lifting both legs off the bed, I ease myself up and suck in some air as I put wait on my ankle.