Eric Sinclair, of course, was oblivious to the conversation between the master and the Sword Spirit. At this moment, as he gave the massage, his mind was starting to wander.
Riley Perry was lying on her stomach, arms stretched upward. Her pajama top had ridden up, exposing a small sliver of her fair-skinned waist.
The first time he touched that patch of skin, he had even tried to pull Riley Perry's pajama top down for her, but the fabric wouldn't cooperate. That sliver of her slender waist kept peeking out, and his hand ended up brushing against her skin more than once.
It was so tender and soft, impossibly delicate. Moreover, a delightful fragrance emanated from her, drawing him irresistibly closer.
His thoughts began to drift, his face grew hot, and even the air around them seemed to shimmer with heat!
