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When Warmth Rose Novel Cover

When Warmth Rose

When Warmth Rose follows a woman navigating her recovery under the watchful eye of a male postpartum care specialist. His clinical precision and calm demeanor create an unexpected tension that leaves her feeling physically overwhelmed and vulnerable. As he notes her heightened sensitivity, the proximity and warmth of his presence trigger a deep, involuntary response. This modern romance explores the intimate and trembling boundaries between professional care and personal attraction.
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Chapter 4

My husband even said that next time I hire a guy for the job, I should have someone with me–just to be safe.

I nodded but did not really worry about it.

Howard was all about the rules. His hands stayed put, and man, he knew his stuff.

After his massage, I felt way better.

However, that nagging pain crept back before too long; the fix was not a full one.

My husband had just left on a trip, and I thought about waiting for him to come back before calling Howard again, but I could not handle the constant ache.

With that, I rang up my best friend to come over.

She was all in, but when the day came, she bailed.

"Hey, just kick back and enjoy!" she said jokingly over the phone. "Trust me, Howard's got magic hands. He'll take good care of you..."

When the convo took a turn for the too-much-info, I just hung up.

While I was on the phone, Howard was right there, waiting.

Noticing my discomfort, Howard gave me a knowing smile and said, "Ma'am, you can relax. When it comes to my work, it's all professional, no matter who the client is."

I could not help but remember how Howard's hands had worked magic last time, far better than any of those so-called pros I had tried before.

Hey, with a camera keeping watch in the living room, I figured Howard would not try anything funny.

I gave a shy nod. "I appreciate it, Mr. Jones."

Howard got ready on the couch, just like before. Even with that first time under my belt, I was still nervous.

Blindfold on, the world went dark, and every touch from Howard's massage seemed to echo louder in my body.

Like before, his massage was sending me into a sleepy haze.

Then, out of nowhere, a chilly tingle zipped across my chest.

I jumped, itching to rip off the blindfold and see what was up.

Howard's voice was a soothing balm, "No worries, ma'am. It's just the massage oil we always use. It's great for easing any soreness and getting better bit by bit."

That settled my nerves.

I mentally rolled my eyes at myself. Since when did I get so jumpy?

The oil started off cool but warmed up as Howard worked it in. His hands, firm yet gentle, made this time feel even more intense than the last.

He started with gentle circles on the outside, then added a little more force as he moved toward the center. The oil made every movement slick and smooth.

Sprawled on the couch, I felt my strength ebbing away with each press and knead, my head getting woozy.

Sometimes, I could even sense Howard's strong arms brushing past my chest.

Heat bubbled up inside me, and without thinking, my legs clenched together.

My chest was a mix of heat and pressure, and it felt like my whole body was firing up.

"What's in this oil, it's so... whoa!"

I barely got the words out when Howard's sudden squeeze drew a yelp from me.

Howard's breath was a warm whisper in my ear. "Don't worry, ma'am," he said softly. "This warmth you're feeling is totally normal. It's just part of the treatment, helps you relax and eases any discomfort."

I jumped a little–I had not expected him to get so close. My ears have always been super sensitive, and the heat of his breath made my whole body go weak.

The feeling only intensified.

I was getting hotter by the second, and it had been so long since I had felt anything like this. Ever since the baby came, my husband and I had drifted apart. At this point, the rush of sensations was almost too much to bear.

I started to squirm without even realizing it, biting my lip to try to keep myself under control.

I could not even think about Howard being right there. It was just too much, like a thousand ants were marching over my skin.

"Ma'am, do you need... any help?" Howard's voice was low and close.

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