Her gaze felt as if it had been scalded, snapping away abruptly and landing on the ceiling.
“You… you’re done showering.” Lin Nianxi straightened up, tugging the hem of her nightgown down toward her knees with both hands, her voice dry and stiff.
Huo Jingmo gave a low “Mm.”
He walked to the wardrobe, casually pulled on a pair of black lounge pants, then took a dark gray cotton T-shirt from the hook. The fabric slid down over his head, covering those abdominal muscles that were impossible to look away from.
Only then did Lin Nianxi lower her gaze.
“I’m going to shower too.” She jumped off the bed, bare feet landing on the carpet, gathered the folded clean clothes beside her pillow, and scurried into the bathroom.
With a soft “thud,” the bathroom door closed.
Lin Nianxi leaned back against the door, a hand pressed to her chest.
Her heartbeat was racing unnaturally.
Hot water poured from the showerhead, splashing against her flushed cheeks. She closed her eyes, but the image from earlier stubbornly lingered in her mind.
Water droplets sliding down his collarbone, the curve of his chest muscles, the ridges of his abs, and that towel hanging dangerously low.
Then the scene shifted—
That night at the hotel, him looming over her, breathing heavily, veins bulging on his arms.
Lin Nianxi’s eyes flew open, and she twisted the shower knob toward the cooler side.
“Lin Nianxi, snap out of it!” she scolded herself quietly.
After nearly twenty minutes, she finally turned off the water.
Wrapping herself in a towel, she checked once more—making sure it was secure enough, that nothing inappropriate was exposed.
She turned the bathroom doorknob, and a cloud of steam drifted out with her.
Huo Jingmo was leaning against the headboard, looking at his phone.
He glanced up at the sound.
The girl stood at the bathroom doorway, wrapped in a white towel. The edge of the towel rested just below her collarbone, barely covering the crucial areas, revealing large swathes of smooth, fair skin.
Her damp long hair clung to her neck, tiny droplets clinging to the hollows of her shoulders and arms, slowly tracing the lines of her skin as they slid down.
Her cheeks and the tips of her ears were flushed pink from the steam, her whole body exuding the faint, sweet fruity-woody scent of the shower gel.
Huo Jingmo’s fingers stilled.
His little wife was simply too tempting.
So obedient and sweet.
Like a ripe, enticing peach just begging to be picked.
The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed almost imperceptibly.
His gaze lingered on her for less than two seconds before he turned his head away, his voice dropping half an octave, slightly hoarse: “Dry your hair first. It’s easy to get a headache if it’s wet.”
“Oh.” Lin Nianxi hurried to the walk-in closet to change into her nightgown, then scurried back.
She sat on the low stool in front of the vanity, opened a drawer and rummaged around until she found the hairdryer.
Just as she picked it up, the hairdryer was taken from her hand by a large, well-defined hand.
“I’ll do it.”
Huo Jingmo stood behind her, setting the hairdryer to a low, gentle heat.
Warm air, carrying the scent of his fir-scented shower gel, drifted down from above.
With one hand holding the hairdryer, the fingers of his other hand combed through her damp strands, separating her hair section by section.
His movements were slow.
Each strand was patiently spread apart, his fingers running from the roots to the ends. When he encountered a tangle, he didn’t tug roughly but gently worked it loose with his fingertips.
The warm air brushed past her ears, his fingers occasionally grazing the curve of her ear, the fleeting warmth disappearing as quickly as it came.
Lin Nianxi sat on the low stool, watching the man behind her in the vanity mirror.
He lowered his head, his expression focused as if handling some important document. Those hands that usually signed multi-billion-dollar contracts were now meticulously blow-drying her hair with utmost care.
More than ten minutes passed.
Her hair was dried to about eighty percent, the slightly curled ends fluffy and soft, cascading over her shoulders.
Huo Jingmo turned off the hairdryer, gathered her hair with his fingers, and checked the roots.
“All done.”
Lin Nianxi had been sitting on the low stool for too long. The moment she stood up, her legs felt sore and numb.
“Ouch—”
Her knees went weak, and she stumbled forward.
Her waist tightened.
The man had already wrapped one arm firmly around her waist while his other hand cupped the back of her knee, lifting her horizontally into his arms.
“Legs numb?”
Lin Nianxi wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder, and mumbled a soft “Mm.”
Huo Jingmo carried her to the bedside, bent down, and placed her on the pink lace quilt.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, his slender fingers wrapping around her delicate ankle. His thumb pressed slowly upward along her calf, with just the right amount of pressure to gently knead away the stiff muscles.
“Ah—” She inhaled sharply, instinctively pulling her leg back slightly.
“Bear with it a little.” His voice was low, the warmth from his palm seeping through her skin bit by bit. A tingling sensation, like tiny electric currents, spread from her ankle all the way to the back of her knee.
His technique was patient, his fingertips kneading rhythmically, moving from the outer side of her calf to the inner side, then slowly stroking downward along the muscle fibers. The annoying numbness receded like a tide, replaced by a warm, melting comfort. Her entire leg relaxed, feeling so good that she couldn’t help but let out a soft “Mm.”
Huo Jingmo: …
Such a tempting little troublemaker.
Did she even know how ambiguous, how alluring her voice sounded?
It made him want to…
Huo Jingmo took a deep breath and proceeded to massage the girl’s other leg with the same meticulous care.
Her previously furrowed brows gradually relaxed, her eyes curved into crescents, and a faint blush spread across her cheeks. Her clear, bright eyes gazed at him, full of trust and dependence.
“Thank you, hubby~” She smiled sweetly, her voice soft and sticky, like a freshly unwrapped milk candy.
Huo Jingmo paused slightly, then a faint curve lifted the corner of his lips. His deep, dark eyes were filled with a gentle light, a tenderness he never showed in front of outsiders.
He raised his hand, his fingertips brushing away the stray strands of hair from her forehead and tucking them gently behind her ear. His low, husky voice was like night wind wrapped in mint: “Sleep now, my dear Xi.”
He pulled the thin blanket up, carefully covering her up to her shoulders, then gently ruffled her hair with his palm.
Satisfied, she nuzzled into the pillow, squinting her eyes like a contented kitten, a curved smile still lingering at the corner of her lips.
Being with Mr. Huo felt so reassuring.
It was as if no matter what happened, he would always find a way to solve it for her.
At first, she wasn’t quite used to sharing a bed with a man, but perhaps she was too tired today. Before long, her eyelids grew heavy, and she drifted into a deep sleep.
Huo Jingmo turned on his side, lowering his gaze to watch her peaceful sleeping face. The warm yellow light from the bedside lamp spilled over her features, her eyelashes casting a small, fan-shaped shadow. Her breathing was long and even.
He reached out, lightly brushing the back of his fingers against her cheek, his voice so soft it almost melted into the silence:
“Goodnight.”
The girl was restless in her sleep, turning over and burying her head into the crook of his shoulder. Her nose pressed against his neck, her warm breath brushing rhythmically against his Adam’s apple.
At some point, a pale, slender leg had draped itself over his thigh.
The hem of her nightgown had ridden up when she turned, and the skin of her thigh pressed against his leg through the thin fabric.
Huo Jingmo closed his eyes.
Then opened them again.
With extreme slowness and caution, he moved the girl’s leg off of himself.
No sooner had he moved it away than the girl whimpered in her sleep, turned over, and snuggled close again.
This time was even worse.
She curled up into a ball, burying her face against his chest, her arm draped over his waist.
Huo Jingmo’s breath hitched.
Xi Bao, really…
He lay there for ten minutes, taking deep breaths.
After a long while, the man sighed helplessly, threw back the covers, and got out of bed.
The bathroom door closed softly.
The sound of cold water began to patter in the deep of the night.