Physical contact was unavoidable.
Henry watched me approach with a smug smile spreading across his face. He’d clearly anticipated my dilemma. Standing tall and imposing, he made no attempt to help, looking down at me with undisguised satisfaction.
When I stopped in front of him, he neither bent his knees nor lowered his head.
His expression said it all: Want to complete the game? Then beg me.
The playground buzzed with noise–children laughing, parents cheering, voices echoing across the open space. Even residents from nearby buildings were watching from their windows, drawn by the festive atmosphere.
In fact, Billy had secretly called Henry the night before using his children’s smartwatch.
“Dad, no matter what, you have to come to the competition tomorrow, Billy had pleaded. “Help me win first place so i can give the special prize to Emily.”
Despite knowing Billy wasn’t his biological son, Henry had missed the boy terribly these past two weeks. He’d wanted to agree immediately but held back to make Sophia admit her mistake.
“What’s in it for me if I help you win?” he’d asked coldly.
Billy had given him a promise: “If you come help me win, I’ll make Mom treat you to dinner. I know you’re divorced and she doesn’t want to see you, but I can arrange a meeting. She’ll even pay for the meal!”
This offer had been too tempting for Henry to refuse, and they’d worked out the details together–Henry would arrive just in time, making it impossible for Sophia to object in front of everyone.
Now, watching me move sluggishly toward his father, Billy shouted impatiently: “Mom, hurry up! If we lose, I get nothing!”
“Mommy, you have to help your son win this competition!” he pleaded.
My son’s voice snapped me back to reality. Seeing the desperation in Billy’s eyes, my maternal instincts overrode my pride.
Looking at Henry’s smug face, I gritted my teeth. “Could you please bend down a little?” I forced myself to say.
Standing at 6’2‘, Henry towered over me by more than a head. Transferring the tennis ball from my neck to his would be impossible without his cooperation.
Henry remained firmly in his désignated circle, watching me approach with growing amusement.
He whispered, “Now you’re asking for my help, dear ex–wife. Mind your attitude. Why can’t you bat your eyelashes and sweeten your tone like other women? Why must you make everything feel like a declaration of war?”
I nearly exploded with anger but caught myself when I noticed all the people around us and remembered Billy’s eagerness to win. I swallowed
my rage.
With a forced smile that didn’t reach my eyes, I whispered through clenched teeth: “Please. I’m asking nicely.”
I kept my voice low enough that only Henry could hear, then immediately felt my face flush with embarrassment.
Seeing my compliance, Henry finally took action.
“Good girl. Come closer to me,” he murmured.
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Chapter 328
He reached out, grasping my arms, and bent his knees into a half–squat. Tilting his chin sideways, he moved toward my neck.
Though our faces were offset, skin contact was inevitable as we transferred the ball. Our cheeks and jawlines not only touched but slid against each other for a good thirty seconds.
Despite the cool early spring air, my face burned where it touched his.
Henry’s clean, masculine scent invaded my senses like wildly growing grass, creeping from my nostrils straight to my heart.
Something switched on inside me, unleashing a flood of intimate memories–moments of passion we’d shared in bed, bodies entwined in the darkness.
The sensation rippled through my entire body, penetrating straight to my heart.
I trembled involuntarily, unable to control my body’s response when he touched me.
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