I ignore that comment entirely. “I’m serious. She won’t tell me much about him, other than he’s rich.”
“Of course.”
“And he lovebombs her hard. Expensive gifts and things like that. But I don’t think he actually comes around much, which seems sketchy. And she can’t show me a picture because he doesn’t have social media. But also, Electra is the kind of girl that would take selfies with her man, you know?”
“Ugh,” he groans. And I really don’t feel like he understands the concern.
“I don’t know. I just have this really uneasy feeling about him,” I pause, biting my lip. “I also talked to Bella today.”
“Oh? And how are they all doing?” he asks. His hands are massaging the front of my shoulders, making their way lower and lower, easing muscles I didn’t know needed to be eased—and making other parts of my anatomy way tenser.
“They’re alright. But Bella has been seeing people. Men, I mean. Like in the shadows.”
He frowns. “Nightmares?”
“Nightmares and when she’s awake,” I say.
“I’m sure she’s just a little paranoid.”
Ransome says it causally, but the word hits me wrong. Paranoid sounds like crazy and I know she’s not crazy.
“I don’t know. I think it could be real. I’m really kind of worried about them. What if people are following them? Spying on them?”
“We don’t know that. No one on my end knows where they even are. So I doubt the Chadovichs?—”
“I don’t think we should underestimate Tristan,” I cut him off and he stops massaging.
I’m worried he’s annoyed or pissed, but his lips press to my neck and his tone stays calm. Low. Preoccupied.
“Tristan has too much going on to worry about your family,dorogoya,” he says. “And I think you’re overworrying too. You need to keep your stress levels down, remember?”
Ransome suckles on my neck, and while it has me pretty hot, it doesn’t negate the fact that I’m worried and he’s just brushing it all off.
“That’s kind of hard to do when I’m concerned about the people I love,” I tell him, doing my best not to be turned on.
“Well, maybe I can ease your mind,” he says. “Among other things…”
With that, his hand runs down my shoulder, over my breast, taking a second to tease my nipple under the water.
I gasp. The skin is so sensitive there, now that I’m so far along. I’ve always been weak about my nipples, but the way he touches them now, exploiting every sign of weakness, has me nearly moaning just from that.
It’s just like Ransome to do this. To sniff out my weak spots and turn them into something beautiful. Something that gives me pleasure instead of pain.
His hand travels further south, over my belly, my hip, my thigh.
And then?—
“Ransome,” I moan as his fingers find me.
My knees part instinctively. He runs his fingers along my slit, teasing my opening briefly before rubbing back up again. Over and over he takes his time, swirling his fingertips, making my hips tilt upward. I want more contact, need more pressure. More of him.
He teases me by skirting around my clit, not quite touching it each time he strokes. Beneath me, I can feel his dick, stiff andhard against my back. I want it. But I also want this. His hands are just as skilled. If he stops, I might actually die.
“You need to trust me,dorogoya.”
“I do,” I moan, grinding my pussy into his hand.
“I don’t feel like you do,” he says. His fingertip barely brushes over my clit, making me whimper and shudder in need. “I promise that nothing is going to happen to anyone you love. Nothing is going to happen to you or the baby. Blood would spill if anyone even considered it.”
