“It’s a reminder—”
He cuts me off with a hard mouth kiss, caressing the back of my scalp, before speaking against my lips. “Do not go there.”
A chill runs through my veins at his guttural tone. The fury brews inside of him. I decide to handle this with delicacy. “Okay, sweetie. Lucky for you, the house is stocked with supplies. I’ll let you continue to wait on me, and if Dr. Rexwell approves, I’d love champagne tonight.”
He exhales loudly, the heat of his breath coating my lips. “He’ll approve. You won’t be a fall hazard if I carry you everywhere.”
His phone sounds with the chime I set up for Marco.
When Evin came home from his visit and shared all that transpired between the men, my first instinct was to keep him removed from my life. Something in the way Evin spoke gave me pause. He didn’t hide his antipathy of the man and family that let me go so effortlessly, but he confessed to seeing the torture in Marco.
Little did Marco know, that show of emotion bought him a smidgen of sympathy. Having lived over a decade with a family in tatters, Evin recognized a broken man plagued with regret.
I was unconvinced of Marco’s motives, all of his confessions muddling in my brain. Like always, Evin was a step ahead and had a file for us to review. The endowments went a long way at UNC, and the pledge to Julliard was listed under the Malone name after my grandparents. Eight years of Isaac’s donations were recorded to charities that all meant something to me.
All those calls and the small talk after the incident with Isaac, that was my dad, not Marco, actually listening. I softened, approving updates on my health.
Marco started slow, seemingly appreciative of any morsel of news. Now, we hear his phone chime multiple times a day.
I pluck the phone out of Evin’s shirt pocket and scan the text.
Good luck at the appointment.
The brief message has an attachment. I don’t have to open it to know what it is.
“Another story for the miraculous Dr. Rexwell.” I flash the screen to Evin.
“One good thing about that asshole is he saves me the research.”
Evin may pretend to be annoyed, but he reads every article Marco sends on Dr. Rexwell’s acclaimed successes.
“Speaking of Rexwell, time to go see him.” I peck his lips, dropping the phone in his pocket.
He rises, bending back to hook his arm under my knees. Expertly, he hauls me up, supporting my braced leg gently, and swings for me to grab my crutches.
“I can walk.”
“You could, but the three sets of eyes peeking around the door are creeping me out.” He lowers his mouth to my ear. “I need my wife to protect me.”
“Got my weapons ready,” I whisper, sliding the crutches between us, and wrapping my arms around his neck. “Let’s go, Chris.”
He jostles me playfully, squeezing my waist. The hallway is clear, but six of Ryanne’s co-workers huddle around the reception desk as we pass. Bess flashes an enormous smile, calling her goodbye as the others ogle Evin. My smile turns sickening sweet when I wave to them.
When we get on the road, he hands me back his phone. “Click-through Darby’s message.”
I find videos from the last few days. Devin is the star of each one, clearly loving the camera. The lump in my throat gets tighter when Maya sashays through the room. She picks up Devin and he reaches for the flowers in her hair. Darby spans over, her body reflecting before it ends. She was beaming with one hand resting on her stomach.
My earlier trepidation returns, but for a different reason. I view them again, this time grinning. “You think Darby will kill us if we submit Devin’s picture for one of those baby contests? He needs to be a model. All of those kids should be models.”
“I think Darby would laugh, but Pierce may kill us, considering he’s in denial about Maya.”
Evin turns into the office complex and our conversation stops because Dr. Rexwell is outside with a nurse watching us pull in. We open our doors and Dr. Rexwell instructs Evin to let me maneuver on my own. His face goes hard, but he stands by.
I successfully get out and turn to face them. “Tada!”
Rexwell’s mouth twitches, but he shows no other emotion. “Lower your right foot and see if you can take a step.”
My heart races at the pressure of his observation. I do what he asks, making it two steps before wincing. Evin closes in, giving me support to find my balance.
“She just got the boot today,” he sneers.
“I’m well aware, the therapist sent over his report. She’s strong.” That’s all he says before turning and motioning for us to follow him into the building.
“Asshole,” Evin grouses.
“Heard that. Call Jay Lowe if you don’t trust my methods,” Dr. Rexwell yells over his shoulder.
Jay Lowe is one of the success stories Marco sent over. “Maybe we shouldn’t piss him off,” I say softly. “We knew his techniques are aggressive.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to agree with it.” He places his hand on my lower back and stays in step as we pass through the offices and go directly to a room.
The exam is what I expected. After a quick run-down of questions, Dr. Rexwell presses, pokes, and studies my leg from thigh to ankle. He calls out rapid-fire terms and measurements while the nurse frantically takes notes. When he’s done, she leaves and I’m half-terrified, half-fascinated. Without having a clue what he spouted, I’m pretty sure he’s a super genius.
“Your calf is better?”
I nod. “The sprained muscles had plenty of rest.”
“Your incisions are healing exceptionally well.”
At this news, I point to Evin. “I have an obsessed wound care expert.”
“Because of the extent of the injuries, there is some swelling, which is expected. Yours is minimal, but keep up the elevation and icing routine.”
I nod, disappointed at the simplicity of his instructions.
“Does that bother you?”
“No, but it’s very basic. Icing, elevating, resting, wound care—that’s a no-brainer. It’s been three weeks since my surgery and doesn’t sound like we’ve advanced far.”
He glances at Evin and back to me, his eyes twinkling with hilarity. “You mean we should discuss something more aggressive?”
The nurse presses her lips together, trying to hide her amusement. Evin coughs, poorly disguising his chuckle. A flush warms my throat and cheeks knowing he overheard me, but I try to act unaffected.
“That is your reputation. Don’t go soft on me. I’m expecting the full, brutal, pain-staking, and push my limits treatment.”
His lips split into a wide grin. “Not sure I’ll be putting that description on my website, but glad to hear you’re willing to put in the effort.”
“Have you ever worked with a professional dancer before?”
“I have advised, but you’re my first.”
I sit straighter, flip my hair over my shoulders, and give him my sharpest glare. “Well then, know we’re a different breed of athlete. No offense to any other athletics, because gymnastics is ruthless. You’ve only dealt with the emotionally shocked, and later coming-out-of-surgery Poppy, but I assure you putting in effort isn’t a problem. Lay out a plan and you’ll get a thousand percent from me.”
Evin shuffles uncomfortably. “Baby, maybe you should give yourself some time to heal before you kick it up an octave.”
I open my mouth to say something about him treating me like crystal, but Dr. Rexwell speaks first.
“You both are right. I like the tenacity, but there has to be a balance.” He reaches for the folder on the counter and pulls out a sheet of paper. “Meeting you out front was my way of getting my assessment of where you are. These are the therapist’s notes from this morning. In your case, we have the unique challenge of the Achilles and knee. Two different types of rehabilitative plans.”
“While we concentrate on the heel, we don’t want to overlook the knee. I’ll need to focus on
both injuries, but know the knee relies on the Achilles repaired. Only when my heel and foot can take ninety percent of my weight, will we get a determination of the range of motion and functionality in my knee.” I recite the information from my research and knowledge of muscular mobility.
“Impressive. Yes, to all you said. But that’s where the balance comes in. Read your body.”
“Not a problem,” I answer a little too quickly.
He cocks an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Eagerness and impatience can lead to overexertion, which will counteract the desired results.”
“He’s right.” Evin cups my cheek. “You don’t have to be Wonder Woman. There’s nothing to prove.”
I grip his hand, lacing our fingers. “You’re wrong. I have to prove to Dr. Rexwell that it’s safe for him to sign off on my care. It’s the only way for us to go to Charleston while I recover.”
His body jerks, complete surprise washing over his face. I take advantage of his shock, turning back to Dr. Rexwell before Evin can argue.
“I am eager and impatient, but mostly I’m determined. Evin’s home is in South Carolina. When you think it’s appropriate, I’d like to continue my rehabilitation in Charleston.”
“So, you’re not only eager, you’re eager to get away from me?” The glint of humor is back.
“No,” Evin speaks up. “I want you to manage her care. We’ll fly back every two weeks if you require it. Another doctor isn’t good enough.”
“That sounded mildly like a compliment.”
“Take it as you will. If Poppy wants to go,” he looks down at me, narrowing his eyes agitatedly, “to our home, we will do whatever it takes to remain under your care.”
“I’ll need to look into who’s running the Orthopedic—”
“You’ll have his contact information in an hour—I’ve already spoken to him personally—as well as the highest-rated Physical Therapy group in the state,” Evin finishes.
A small giggle bubbles up and I squeeze his hand, explaining, “Evin isn’t only obsessively detailed and slightly neurotic, he also has personal connections.”
Dr. Rexwell grins arrogantly. “As long as they can stand to be second in charge.”
“He knows. You just guide us to get Poppy ready to go.”
“I’ll see you again in ten days and we’ll make an assessment. Her therapist will have a say, but my guess is she’ll be ready to travel.”
“That seems a little soon to be safe.”
“You aren’t the first patient to have this request.”
“I trust you,” I blurt out, jerking Evin’s hand to stop him from disagreeing.
“You’re moving to three days a week therapy. The nurse will come back and redress your incisions and help get your braces on.”
“Thank you.”
“One more thing. It’s been three weeks now,” Evin states, and Dr. Rexwell turns, halfway at the door.
They share a conspiring look.
“Mr. Graham, three weeks is sufficient if she’s feeling well. But I’ll stick to my original advice about considering protection.”
My skin flames everywhere and I can’t look at the man as I slink back onto the table. “You did not ask my doctor for permission to have sex!”
“No, I asked him when it was safe. The only person who gives me permission is you. He recommended at least three weeks if you went back on the pill. He also suggested using additional protection until your first cycle. But that’s not an issue now.”
“Oh my God, we have to sneak out. I can’t face him again. This is humiliating.”
“Why don’t we discuss your decision to move?” Evin props on the exam table, completely ignoring my frantic attempt to reach my brace.
“There’s nothing to discuss. Now help me.”
“Poppy.” His finger goes under my chin and tilts my face to him. “Talk to me. An hour ago, you were dead set on pushing me home alone and scared of more change.”
“An hour ago, I was selfish.”
He scowls, his eyes darkening. “Being afraid of change isn’t selfish.”
“I was thinking about only me and wasn’t willing to open my mind to the advantages.”
“What changed?”
“Seeing those videos.”
The darkness in his gaze softens into concern. “Baby, that wasn’t my intention.”
“I know, but a switch flipped and things cleared. It was a well-timed reality check. Those videos reminded me of other important things happening. We should go back to Charleston when Rexwell approves. Like you said in the hospital before my surgery, the support system is better.”
“I’m not sure you can get better support than Ryanne and Dante.”
“Dante is drowning in guilt. He’s scared to talk to me about the Cirque shows, his extra dances classes, or the company training.”
“He’s being considerate of your feelings.”
“Exactly! He’s trying to shield me and it’s exhausting for him.”
“What about Ryanne?”
“She’s been trying to get me to see reason; you overheard her.”
“We’ll see how the therapy and next appointment go.”
“Be prepared for it to go my way. I’ll wow him with my progress, even if I can’t look him in the eye because you discussed our sex life with him.”
His mouth splits into a wide, arrogant grin, clearly unaffected by the glare I’m sending his way.
Chapter 29
Evin
“Evin…” Poppy’s hoarse moan is more like a plea.
I don’t slow devouring her. My tongue delves deeper, licking, swirling, and sucking until she’s writhing wildly. The muscles in her thighs tighten as she tries to loosen my hold.
“Let me go,” she begs. “You’re torturing me.”
“Not sure how me eating your pussy is torture.”
“Because I want you.”
“You’ll get me.” I continue to worship her, letting my tongue cover every inch of her smooth skin. She gasps, chanting murmurs that spur me on. She fists my hair, trying again to pull me up. My finger brushes feather-light touches along her slit, playing with the sensitive area.
Her back arches and she bucks into my face, giving in. Her scream ricochets off the walls, sending a bolt of satisfaction through me. A rush of wetness coats my mouth as she flies apart, her body shuddering.
My dick jerks, sending a warning that he’s losing patience. I flick my tongue across her clit once more before kissing my way up to her mouth, bracing and positioning myself between her legs.
Poppy whimpers when my cock slides in, her breath coating my lips as her nails scale through the mostly full-beard.
“Stop worrying.”
“My worry is that I’ll blow.”
“Hmmm, you should have let me help take the edge off.” She grins, slipping her tongue along the crease of my mouth.
“Baby, loved having your mouth this morning. It was my turn. I’ve been waiting all day for this.”
“Practicing your patience is commendable. You should be rewarded.”
“FUUUCCCKKK.” My arms shudder, threatening to give out when she surges her hips, taking me all the way.
She moans, her eyes glowing in appreciation.
“Jesus, baby, you’re tight, so fucking hot.” Beads of sweat trickle down my neck and back, my dick pulsating inside her.
I kneel back, staring down with my pulse racing. The new silky blonde and lavender shades of her hair spread on the pillow, her skin a sheen of sparkles except for the space along her ribcage near her heart.
Never Let Go
The swirly script is visible through the translucent bandage.
My words permanently etched into her skin. The possessive burn scores through my veins. She reaches for my hand, bringing my eyes back to hers, the glow fading as she nibbles on her lip. “Is it too much? I can dye it back if it’s freaking you out.”
“Baby, your hair could be army green and it wouldn’t change how i
ncredibly fucking beautiful you are. It’s taking everything I have to tame the urge to pound into you like a savage animal.”
“That sounds fun.” She pivots her hips.
Sparks of heat shoot up my spine and I bend, lifting her to sit astride me. She hooks her leg around my waist and swivels again.
It’s been a full month since I’ve had her like this, and my body reacts on instinct by driving up. She groans again, rocking into me.
We move together, her pussy clenching tighter. “Please,” she begs faintly, her eyes glazing.
“Please what, baby?”
“More, faster…” She arches, her nipples rubbing on my chest.
I pummel harder, bouncing her with each thrust.
“Come for me.”
She shakes her head, digging her nails into my skin.
My arm slants across her back, holding her tight as I slam up, drilling faster. Her breath turns to pants, signaling she’s close. “Now,” I demand.
Her total body tenses before she shouts my name. I don’t stop, feeling the heat coat my dick. She grinds down, her cries replaced with more begging.
“I can’t… you have to…”
My cock protests when I slow my speed, letting her catch her breath. She brings her face back to mine, and my heart hammers at the familiar fire in her gaze. Her thigh flexes, her hands prop on my shoulders, and without warning, she lifts and rams back down.
“Goddammit,” I hiss.
“Your ever-lasting self-restraint is very impressive.”
She smiles smugly, angling to take me deeper. Her lips part as she moans, and the sound goes straight to my dick. I grind my teeth, a low growl coming up my throat when her pussy squeezes.
My control wavers, the primal need taking over. I drop my mouth to her nipple, lapping it roughly. My fingers go straight to where we’re connected, strumming her clit.
“All day, I’ve been thinking about this. Knowing tonight I would have you wrapped around me, feel you taking me, see you come apart. The second my dick slid inside, I was in trouble. We could go all night and it wouldn’t be enough.”
“Oh, God. Feels so good.” She rocks faster, her slickness coating my balls.
Evin's Fight (Southern Charmers Book 3) Page 30