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Scout gets down and puts himself to bed, and with him not between us, there’s nothing to stop me from reaching over and pulling Astrid to me. She doesn’t resist, and I adjust us until her head is resting on my thigh, her legs stretching out in the other direction on the couch. I stroke my fingers through her hair, trying to pay attention to the show, but I keep glancing down at her face, where I can only see the flutter of her eyelashes. And soon, she falls asleep.

So we don’t have a repeat of last night, I leave the TV on as I lift her, and when her eyes open sleepily to see what’s happening, she snuggles deeper against my chest when it’s my face above her. At the top of the steps, I pause outside her door, considering whether I should ask her where she’d rather sleep.

But the Dom in me wins out and I make the decision for her, carrying her to my big bed and slipping us beneath the covers.Chapter 9Doc“You sure you want to go to the gym today? You could barely get out of bed you were so sore,” I ask from the kitchen island, surprised when Astrid comes downstairs the next morning in workout clothes.

“Yes, I’m sure. Your full-body massage worked wonders, thank you very much,” she replies, and my semi-erection goes full-staff at the memory of her relaxing beneath my hands when we woke up. “Sixty-six days to make it an automatic response, right? I’ll just take it easy, maybe just some treadmill time or something.”

“All right, just let me get changed and we’ll go,” I tell her, and she waves me off.

“No, no. You said today is your recovery day. You don’t have to mess up your routine. Let me go all this week, and then I’ll take my recovery day on your next one. That way we can match up,” she offers, and I concede, loving that she’s finding her voice and seems motivated for the gym.

“Do you want me to take you, or do you want the keys to the Audi?” She doesn’t drive very often, but when she does, she likes the car instead of one of my bigger vehicles. She took my truck once last year, when she snuck out of my house to go to her apartment, the night of our first kiss, and she said it was terrifying to park that beast.

“I’ll… take… the Audi, I guess,” she answers, stunted, as if she hadn’t thought that far ahead. And then she clears her throat, looking like she’s summoning her courage. “Um… Neil?”

“Yes, goddess?” I put down the notepad I was reading patient notes from and give her my full attention.

“You know those boxes of mine in the garage? The ones I said I didn’t really need at the moment when I was unpacking my stuff after Twyla and I canceled our lease?”

I nod. “I do.”

She fidgets with her ponytail, looking above my head instead of meeting my eyes. “Would um… if you have time and it’s not too much trouble…”

She pauses, and I know she’s wanting me to fill in the blank and reply to her unspoken request, but I don’t give in. And when she sees I’m not going to, she lets out a little huff and releases her hair.

“Would you please bring in my other boxes? They’re really heavy, since they’re full of my books. And since you’re all manly and muscly, I’d really appreciate it if you brought them in for me,” she finishes, pulling her purse up higher on her shoulder.

I stand up from my seat at the island and make my way over to her slowly, going for what I think looks like a leisurely stroll but by the heated look in her eyes while she watches my body as I near, it must come off like a prowl. When I’m right in front of her, her eyes lift from my bare chest to my eyes, and she swallows audibly.

“No problem, goddess. Is there anywhere in particular you’d like me to put them?”

“Uhh…” She blinks. “I really hadn’t thought that far.”

My hand comes up to cup her jaw, my thumb skimming over her smooth and makeup-free cheek. “I have plenty of open shelves in my study. I could move some things around and give you your own couple of bookcases if you’d like.”

Her eyes go wide. “R-Really? You don’t mind my trashy novels sitting next to your psychology books? It’s all so like… pretty and coordinated in there, with all the leather-bound texts and masculine… everything. It’s going to look funny with all my colorful spines and shirtless men on the covers.”

I chuckle. “I mean, what could be more masculine than shirtless men?”

She looks at me in awe, but then she blinks and smiles, her whole face lighting up. “That would be amazing.” And then that little wicked look from yesterday fills her eyes. “Thank you, Viking.”


Tags: K.D. Robichaux Romance