WYLDER

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WYLDER Page 34

by Kristina Weaver


  “Lyon.”

  “Nope. You’re keeping it on while they’re in the apartment. No arguments. Come. You gotta taste Hawk’s pancakes. Even Mom can’t make them this good.”

  Which is proven true when he drags me into the kitchen and Hawk presents me with a heaping plate of fluffy chocolate chip pancakes covered in dripping syrup and butter.

  “Hey, hottie, eat up.”

  “Hawk. I will kill you,” Lyon snarls.

  I choke on a mouthful, and Lynx slams his palm into my back, almost sending me into a launch.

  “Lay off! You wanna break her or something?”

  “Sorry,” Lynx says sheepishly, patting me so softly I laugh and snort orange juice down my chin.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it. You should be a physical therapist. You’re strong.”

  They all laugh, even Lyon, who seems to have swapped bodies with a madman, and we dig in with zeal.

  “So, I hear you like this idiot. Have you been taking your meds?”

  “Hawk, I swear to God…”

  “Chill out. We’re ragging you, man, just teasing. I want to get to know Leila, is all, and from what I see, it’s all good. Now, what made you look at him and ignore the cloven hooves?”

  Hawk and Lynx find this extremely amusing, and I myself am having a hard time keeping a straight face when he throws them a dirty look and ignores the banter.

  “I guess I like him because he’s honest and I can trust him,” I answer after a while, my voice serious and shy because it’s not easy to admit to feeling something for a guy I know as well as I think I have ever known someone, even so soon after meeting.

  Lyon stills, his fork halfway to his mouth, and smiles at me, his eyes shining with a light that looks to me to be adoration. And esteem.

  “Thank you, baby. That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me.”

  “That’s true. Agh. Come on, Hawk. Let’s split before he starts reading her poetry.”

  Even Lyon grins at Lynx’s teasing, and before I know it, we’re all alone and he’s looking at me with a lot of heat in his eyes.

  “Breakfast is done,” he drawls, smiling slowly.

  “We should, uh, clean up in here,” I mumble, clearing my throat because I’m blushing like crazy and I don’t know where to look.

  It was so easy last night, but suddenly I feel shy and unsure of myself.

  “Come, Leila, I won’t bite. Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

  “No! I mean, uh, no, no, I haven’t.”

  Heck no I haven’t, and I prove it by rising and taking his hand, leading him into the bedroom before closing and locking the door. Now, I’m not so brazen, but Lyon takes care of the issue by anchoring a hand to my hips and pulling me into his body.

  I expect a kiss, but he surprises me by rubbing his nose to mine and smiling softly.

  “Relax. I won’t rush you. Now, take your clothes off, woman!”

  The tease has me giggling up at him, and I do relax, pushing away to pull his ridiculous shirt off. The vest comes with it, and I blush when he looks at my breasts.

  He doesn’t say a word this time, just watches me when I push my pants down and hesitate before the panties follow. Our eyes hold all the way through, so I’m surprised when I look down to see him naked and proud.

  I can’t help it. I gape at his size.

  “Oh no.”

  “Oh yes, Lay. Now get your sweet butt on the bed and let me take a look at your…treasure.”

  Giggling now is so not sexy, but I do when I slowly slide onto the mattress and give him a show that feels cheesy, but what the hell, it’s my moment, right?

  Lyon’s with me as soon as I roll to the middle, his heat coming over me, no part of me left untouched by his large body. He spends a long while just looking into my eyes before kissing me so deeply I can’t breathe, and I don’t care.

  Then come the touches. Light fingers skating over my skin, glancing my nipples and stomach, stroking my thighs before trailing back up to cup a breast and knead the flesh. I moan without a care in the world, and I moan louder when he finally puts his mouth on me, sucking me with reverent, light pulls.

  I can’t stand it another minute, when all of a sudden he starts playing, nibbling, flicking, sucking, alternating the touches between breasts until I’m so aroused I feel my juices leak out.

  “Lyon.”

  “Don’t talk or I’ll blow it, baby.”

  Hell, I may blow it, and all he’s doing is playing with my breasts. At this rate, I’ll orgasm if he touches my clit. But the man is smart, oh so smart, and after abandoning the globes, he spends a while scraping his teeth from navel to hipbones and back again, letting me settle somewhat.

  Now this part. I’m iffy about him going down there, even if it sounds good, because I haven’t ever—

  “Aaaah!”

  Oh God, I’m fine with it! Totally fine, I scream silently when he latches onto my clit and sucks hard, his mouth opening so his tongue can run between the lips and back again.

  Oh, oh, he’s tasting me and growling something I can’t make out, but I imagine the dirty words he’d say, and before I’m ready—I don’t want to be ready yet it feels so good—I explode inside, the climax tearing through me hard enough to have me bowing into him.

  I expect the next move to be him pushing into me, but I should have known Lyon wouldn’t just rush this. No, he gentles me with slow licks, and when I’m calm and aching again, he comes over me and pushes himself close.

  “You’re tight, a little too tight, baby. Tell me if I hurt you and I’ll stop. Okay?”

  I nod, spreading my legs out and up, my knees hugging his hips when he pushes in. It does sting just the tiniest bit. I won’t lie, but I expected that, because Lyon isn’t small, quite a bit bigger than Cole was.

  I ignore the burn and concentrate on feeling him, groaning when he goes all the way in so slowly I feel every scrape over my tissues.

  “Hhhm, uh, you okay, baby?” he grunts, breathing fast and hard.

  “Perfect. Move, Lyon.”

  Oh, and does he. The man is a demon, a wicked being who knows just what to do when he pulls out and starts going, no hard thrusts, just a steady, soft buildup of measured movements that make me clench to keep him in and scream when he angles a certain way and hits a place inside me that feel glorious.

  We’re covered in perspiration, his body gliding over mine, eyes holding as he makes love to me, because I fully understand that it’s not just sex. It feels too right, too good, too…everything.

  “I need you to come, Leila. Oh, hell, don’t move, baby. You almost there?”

  My answer is given when the pressure releases in a blast, the intensity of it so unbearably good I scream and claw at his back. Lyon doesn’t take much longer, just a handful of thrusts, before he stills and tenses.

  The afterglow of sex has always confused me, but I totally get it now when a while later he reaches down between us and pulls out. It feels so good I almost miss it when he rolls away and removes a condom, my mind blinking for a tick before I feel a rush of relief.

  I didn’t once consider protection, but Lyon, as usual, is protecting me even when I am not.

  “Come here, woman,” he says gruffly when he returns from the bathroom, his arms pulling me in close.

  “Hhhm, this is nice.”

  “Nice. It’s freaking awesome. Thank you, Leila.”

  “What for?”

  “For making love with me. It was perfect.”

  It was. It so was, I think, drifting off with his words ringing in my head. The machines around me beep when my chest tightens, and I hear a curse, probably Lyon, and a yell.

  “Her machines are making a weird noise!”

  Some mumbling intrudes on my dreamy daze and then the scream to get a crash cart.

  Chapter Five

  Lyon

  I’m ready to rip my hair out and start breaking things when Hawk and Lynx run into the waiting room, their eyes just as frantic as
mine when they spot me and come over.

  Hawk doesn’t stop, just comes right in and pulls me into his chest, holding me, not in a pansy-ass man hug way but really holding on as I feel myself crack the slightest bit.

  One minute, I was sitting beside Leila, reliving the first time we made love, and the next, her machines were screaming, the sound breaking through my thoughts and turning my blood to ice.

  I knew something was wrong and almost dragged the nurse in here to check. Until the day I die, I will never forget the look on her face before she ran to the door and yelled for a doctor and a crash cart.

  That was four hours ago, and in all that time, I haven’t heard a word, was just asked to wait in the waiting room and someone would be out to talk to me.

  “We need to tell Mika. We have to. She thinks Leila is okay but just recovering and mending fences with you. It’s the only reason she hasn’t started going mental to see her,” Lynx says, getting a dirty glare from Hawk.

  “Bro, if you mention Mika again when Lyon looks ready to keel over, I will kill your ass. You get me? Now, shut up and go get some coffee and doughnuts while I go track down someone capable in this hellhole.”

  I’m alone for no longer than five minutes before they both walk back in, Hawk’s face so pale I stop breathing.

  “No.”

  “Don’t go nuts. She’s not gone, man. I just spoke to that nice little blonde nurse, and she’s going to get an update for us, but, Lyon, bro, she said Leila had some sort of bleed and things did not look good. Her blood pressure was too low, man, way too low.”

  I don’t want to hear this. I can’t hear this shit right now because I might not survive this.

  When I found Leila, when Lori took me to her and I saw her face, her still, perfect face, I thought I’d been in hell, until she started twitching. I thought she would be okay, because wasn’t this all a miracle?

  But this? This isn’t okay. Just when I think she’s fine, that all I need to do is wait, something happens and I have to face the possibility that she might die before I can tell her that I love her, that I always have loved her and won’t ever stop.

  “She’s going to be fine, so shut the hell up and eat,” Lynx grunts, handing me coffee and a chocolate doughnut.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Eat! Or I call Ma and tell her what’s going on. You want that crazy old woman down here threatening to scalp the pilgrims, boy?” Lynx asks, chuckling when my mouth twitches, and I shake my head in denial.

  Mom is a rock, and I adore that woman, but I just can’t deal with anyone right now, and I’m glad that Hawk and Lynx are keeping them at bay.

  “She was okay. The doctor just looked her over an hour before, and he said all she needs is time,” I mumble, chewing and swallowing because I have to though the stuff tastes like sawdust and swallowing isn’t easy.

  The coffee is warm though, and I relish the heat when it pools in my stomach and warms me.

  “I called Jake’s uncle over in Vegas. He’s coming in as we speak. Should be here in a few hours. Don’t argue, Lyon. We want peace of mind, and when she comes out of surgery, we’ll have it. He’ll check her over, and if he says she’s okay, then I’ll believe him. These quacks don’t know what the hell they’re doing.”

  See why I love Hawk? The guy knows he’ll be offending people by getting a second opinion, but he doesn’t care.

  “Okay.”

  “Good, now drink your coffee, and let’s talk about what you’re going to do when Leila wakes up.”

  Hell. Nosey douchebags.

  “I’m taking her home.”

  I don’t miss the look they share but put it down to the stress before Lynx clears his throat and starts stammering.

  “Ooooh, that may be a problem, man. Mika told me she’s not exactly a fan of yours, and uh, well…hell, Hawk, you don’t have a sensitive bone in your hulking mass. You tell him,” Lynx mutters uncomfortably, setting off my alarms.

  “Coward. Lyon, bro, uh, Leila has a, uh, boyfriend.”

  My eyes narrow. It’s the only reaction I allow them to see, but inside, I feel like I just got my lungs ripped out. I can’t draw a decent breath, and my gut is burning like acid fire.

  “Lyon.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Ly—”

  “Leave it, Lynx. I know she doesn’t love me anymore. I mean, hell, it’s been eight years since we saw each other. I get it, okay, and yeah, it hurts, but it doesn’t change how I feel. I’m not leaving this place until she’s ready to walk out of it. Leave it.”

  By hour five, I’m ready to start a massacre, but the doctor walks in, and removing his hat tiredly, he manages a smile that lets me breathe again.

  “She had a tiny tear in the membrane surrounding her liver, but we managed to stop it, and she’s responding well to the transfusion we gave her.”

  “Oh, yeah? So, tell me, in four days and with all the hocus pocus going on in this dump, why didn’t you catch the fact that she was bleeding inside?” Hawk snarls.

  The doctor gapes, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, before he clears his throat and stands taller.

  ‘These things happen, Mr. Wylder. Miss Evans was stable, and the tests did not indicate any internal bleeding. Anyone could have missed it.”

  Lynx snorts and bares his teeth, making me proud to call him brother.

  “Anything else happens to that woman and I will kill you in a way that will have you glad to be dead. You got me?”

  He doesn’t answer, just turns and almost runs from the room. The blonde nurse arrives not long after, and it’s due solely to Hawk’s oily grin that we all get to go into her room and sit beside her, our watch starting again.

  I remember one time, just once, when Leila was sick and I spent a sleepless night in a chair beside my bed, watching over her like a crazed mama bear.

  She laughed afterwards, but the helplessness I felt…

  “You’re sick! You need to go to the doctor.”

  “I’m fine, Lyon. It’s just a little cold,” Leila huffs, her little nose so red and raw I wince when she blows it loudly and starts scraping the tissue over the flaking skin.

  “It’s not fine. It’s been five days, Lay. You’re worse, and your poor nose is going to start bleeding if you keep that shit up.”

  Her guilty look seals the deal, and I’m slamming some clothes onto her back before pulling her up and into my arms, her weak protests falling on deaf ears.

  The other girls in the dorm give me amused smiles when she curses me but falls limply against my shoulder, snuggling into me with a sigh. She’s not so nice when I stop in the hospital parking lot, and I feel a part of my face peel off when Hawk and Lynx amble over from their cars, their eyes going hard when they see the state she’s in.

  “Don’t even start, man. I’ve been trying to get her to the doctor for days. Woman is a mule.”

  “It’s just a stupid cold! Sheesh, I’m drinking vitamin C, and I took the freaking vapor stuff last night. It’s getting better.”

  Which she belies when she sneezes all over Hawk and a mucous trail drips from his shirt.

  “Sorry.”

  “See! You are sick if that doesn’t have you trying to crawl into the ground with shame,” I yell, shoving a frozen Hawk out of the way to lift her into my arms and stalk for the emergency entrance.

  They try to make me wait. They obviously don’t understand me when I tell them I want a doctor, but Hawk takes care of that with his perpetual scowl and the dead eye he gives the guy at the desk.

  Cold my ass, I think later, fuming at Leila because she’s got a chest infection and such bad sinusitis she should not be breathing right now.

  “I said sorry,” she whines when I lower her into my bed and pull the covers over her.

  “But you aren’t. You still tried to stop me from getting the medicine at the drug store.”

  “Because it was two hundred and twenty three dollars!” she wheezes.

&nb
sp; “Leila. Don’t, baby. I do not want to yell at you right now, because you’re sick, but I am not happy. You don’t take care of yourself.”

  “I do. I just thought…” she says, her eyes tearing up when she coughs, and it sounds like she’s grating her lungs. “Ow.”

  “Lay back and keep quiet. I’m getting you some soup, and you’re taking the pills even if I have to send Hawk in here.”

  “You big meanie.”

  “I heard that, and he’s right. You take those pills, Leila, or I’ll call Ma. You wanna meet Ma for the first time when it looks like you’re preparing to lead Santa’s sleigh?”

  “Hawk! Fuck off,” I mutter, trying not to laugh when she rears up, even her weakness not capable of killing her feminine sense of offense.

  “I”—hacking cough followed by a tissue and some weird wet spitting—“will kick”—another cough, this one a whoop that has even Hawk cringing—“your ass,” she croaks, falling back with a moan. “My head hurts, Lyon.”

  “I know, baby. I know. I’ll make it all better.”

  Easier said than done. She puked the first round of pills when one got stuck and kicked up her gag reflex, letting me know that certain things just won’t fly during sex.

  We finally got them to stay down when Lynx ground it all up on a spoon and mixed it into melted chocolate. How women can eat chocolate even when they’re sick is a mystery to me, but Leila kept it all down and is now snoring while I take a break and go to grab a soda.

  “You okay?”

  “Do I look okay? The woman is stubborn as hell,” I mumble, leaning back against the counter with a harsh sigh.

  I would have noticed it sooner, but things have been weird at home in the last week, and Pop and Mom aren’t around much. Even Sparrow isn’t acting right, and that’s saying a lot because Sparrow can be plain strange sometimes.

  I feel guilty as heck because if I’d have been around, I would have seen that Leila was sick and at death’s door.

  “She’ll be okay. She just needs to rest and take it easy.”

  “Have you met her? She’ll be trying to climb out the window to visit Mika tomorrow morning bright and early.”

  Hawk gets all serious suddenly, and I feel like I’m standing in front of a firing squad.

 

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