Evander grips the wooden couch frame and does a pushup, stretching his legs straight out behind him.Then moves up and in.His face hovers over mine.A lock of hair falls over his forehead.He blesses me with a wicked smile.
“You are beautiful, sweet Phoebe.”
“So are you.”I raise my arms.I want to feel him.I want to know him.Everything about him.
My fingers brush over the cut muscle and tendon of his upper arms.Rock solid and chiseled.Holy shit on a stick.Yes, I’ve touched him before.To put in an IV or take his pulse or check his surgical site or to hold his hand and reassure him, but this is totally different.
My hands explore him because he wants me to.He’s letting me.He’s propped himself over me so that I can understand what I’m dealing with.Everything he’s offering me.
That’s nice of him.
My palms run up and down his arms.Hard twists of muscle sculpted by discipline.Even through the fabric of his thermal underwear shirt, I’m stunned by what I’m feeling.
Outrageous physiology, just like the surgeon said.He could probably lift me over his head with one hand.The man must work out like a dog every day.I might want to watch that sometime, if he’ll let me.
“Phoebe?”
His voice drags my attention away from the playground of his upper body.I look up to see him suppressing an amused smile.
“I’m about to kiss you.Thought you should know.”
He drops his gaze to my mouth, eyes shadowed by dense black lashes.But I see the hunger there.It’s unmistakable.
He’s hungry.Forme.
He lowers his lips to mine.And that’s it.Game over.Heat rolls through me and I instinctively arch my back, rising up to him.
His kiss is sizzling.Evander’s lips are soft but insistent as they move on mine, opening, tasting, taking.Heaven help me—he’s a fabulous kisser.
Well, ofcoursehe is.And I have a feeling that there’s a lot more fabulousness headed my way.
He tilts his head to change the angle of his kiss.There’s no misunderstanding the message.The man knows what he wants.
And I’m telling him he can have it.He can have anything.
Take it.
His kiss deepens, becomes rougher.I clutch his arms and hook a leg over his waist.
Just like that, this is no longerhiskiss.It’sours.We’re both giving and taking.We’re learning each other.
He lowers down on top of me, pressing some of his weight into my body.I’m dizzy.He feels so good.I bring the other leg around him and pull him in even tighter.
“Ow!”
CHAPTER 31
Evander
I pull my mouth from hers.I’ve hurt her.
Phoebe stares at me with wide eyes.Her legs are still wrapped around my waist, but she’s gone still.It suddenly occurs to me.
“Your sutures.”
She nods.
This is the worst possible position for her to be in—leaning back, legs up, weight balanced on her behind.
