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"Yes." She steps closer, helping me with the shirt despite her disapproval. "You can't follow simple orders for your own good."
I catch her wrist, pulling her between my legs as I sit on the edge of the bed. "For your own good you should stop talking."
"Oh?" Her eyebrow arches.
"Because I'm about five seconds from fucking you right here, right now."
A playful smirk spreads across her face as she leans in, her lips brushing my ear. "No, you won't."
I pull Evelyn closer, the stitches in my chest screaming in protest. I don't give a fuck. Three days in this sterile hellhole without touching her has been worse than getting shot.
"You think I won't?" I growl against her neck, feeling her pulse quicken under my lips.
"Noah, you're injured," she says, but her body betrays her. She melts against me, her hands carefully avoiding my bandaged chest but gripping my shoulders.
I bite her earlobe, relishing her sharp intake of breath. "The second we're out of here I'm going to bend you over the first flat surface I find."
"Noah..." Her voice catches as I slide my hand up her thigh, under the simple dress she's wearing.
"I'm going to make you scream my name until your throat is raw." My fingers trace the edge of her panties and I feel her tremble. "You've been driving me fucking crazy, sitting there all innocent in that chair while I've been lying here thinking about all the ways I want to take you."
A soft moan escapes her lips as I kiss her and I swallow the sound. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling just enough to send a jolt of pleasure down my spine.
"The doctor could walk in," she protests weakly against my mouth.
"Let him." I slide my tongue against hers, claiming her mouth the way I plan to claim the rest of her. "Maybe he'll learn something."
Her laugh turns into another moan as my hand moves higher.
"I've missed the sounds you make," I murmur against her throat. "I'm going to make you utter a lot more of them when we get home."
The door swings open and the doctor walks in with his clipboard. In an instant Evelyn transforms. She steps back from between my legs, smoothing her dress with hands that were just clinging to me. Her cheeks still flush with desire but her posture shifts—spine straightening, shoulders squaring.
I watch her, fascinated by this transformation performance. This is the Evelyn Anderson the world sees—the perfect, polished violinist who plays for the elite. Hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders, that demure smile that gives nothing away. She's wearing a simple blue dress that somehowlooks designer on her, making her eyes appear even more intense.
The contrast between this proper woman and the one who was just moaning against my mouth makes my cock throb painfully. I want to rip away this facade, to expose the wild creature underneath who scratches and bites and begs.
"Mr. Rivera will need to change his bandages twice daily," the doctor says, handing Evelyn a packet of instructions.
She nods, attentive and responsible, while my mind replays how her breath hitched when my fingers traced her inner thigh. How fucking wet she was.
"I'll make sure he does," she promises and I nearly laugh at how convincingly dutiful she sounds.
The doctor hands me final paperwork to sign, which I do without reading. I don't give a shit what it says. All I care about is getting Evelyn alone, peeling off that proper mask along with all her clothes.
"A wheelchair will be brought—" the doctor begins.
"I'll walk," I interrupt, already standing despite the pain lancing through my chest.
Evelyn gives me a disapproving look that only makes me harder. I'm going to enjoy wiping that expression off her face, replacing it with something much less controlled.
CHAPTER 31
Ihold the keys to Noah's car in my hand, dangling them like a prize. "I'm driving. You've just been shot, for God's sake."
Noah snatches them from my hand with surprising speed for someone who nearly died three days ago. "No fucking way."
"You're being ridiculous." I cross my arms over my chest. "The doctor said to avoid strain. Driving is a strain."