Chapter 0323

Hannah

I slipped back to my bedroom that night before the party was even over, the sounds of music and laughter fading as I made my way down the halls. I needed to wash away the day, to clear my head.

In the bathroom, I ran the hot water, watching the steam rise invitingly from the tub. I stirred lavender bath salts into the water, inhaling the relaxing aroma. Once the bath was prepared, I slipped off my emerald green cocktail dress and laid my jewelry on the sink before stepping in.

The hot water instantly soothed my tired muscles, and I let out a soft sigh of relief as I sank down into the steam. I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the porcelain. The events of the evening swirled in my mind, but I pushed them away, wanting only to relax.

I wasn’t in there long, however, before I heard my bedroom door opening.

“Hannah? You in here?” I heard Noah call out.

“I’m taking a bath.”

I heard him moving around the bedroom, likely undressing after the long party. Shutting my eyes again, I sank lower into the bath until the water came up to my chin. But the water was a touch too hot, and within minutes I began to feel lightheaded—more lightheaded than I could handle, it seemed, as I sat up and then quickly sank back down again when the room began to spin.

“Noah?” I called out tentatively, my hands tightening around the edges of the bathtub.

“Yeah?”

“Can you come here, please?”

He appeared in the doorway almost instantly, his hair tousled and the top two buttons of his shirt undone. “Are you alright?” he asked.

I nodded, sinking further into the water. “I got dizzy. Could you…?” I trailed off, unsure what I was asking for.

Noah’s ears reddened slightly, and I followed his gaze down to my breasts, which were peeking out of the water, my pink nipples ringed with soap bubbles. I felt my own cheeks heat up, though it had nothing to do with the hot water.

He swallowed hard, then grabbed a sponge and knelt beside the tub. “Here,” he said, grabbing my arm and beginning to wash my skin.

My eyebrows shot up, wondering why he was doing this, but I didn’t fight him as he washed me. If I was being honest, it felt… good. Too good.

As he moved to my legs, his hands dipping below the water with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows to reveal his sinewy forearms, I felt an undeniable spark of arousal. The pregnancy hormones were in full force, making every sensation more intense, more euphoric. Each stroke of the sponge was like a jolt of electricity.

I bit my lip, trying to focus on the steam, on the condensation on the tiles, on literally anything but his touch, but it was a futile effort.

There were no cameras here, no one to see his tenderness. I wanted to ask why he was doing this, but then my mind wandered back to his kindness last night, and the words died in my throat.

He gently gripped my ankle, lifting my leg out of the water. My skin was pink and shiny, droplets of water running in small rivers up my calf, down the slope of my thigh as he worked the sponge upward.

Noah paused as he reached the top of my thighs, noticing the way I had begun to squirm slightly.

“Are you alright? Are you cramping?” He lowered my leg. “Should we call the doctor?”

He reached for his phone, and I panicked. “No! I’m… I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You look… pained.”

I swallowed hard and looked away. “I’m turned on,” I admitted, my face burning with embarrassment.

Noah was silent. I couldn’t see his face because I was looking away, not that I wanted to—because something told me that those green eyes of his were scanning not just my expression, but also my body, my breasts, which I hadn’t hidden beneath the water yet.