She paused, before slowly moving her arm.
Max inspected it. It was healing well.
‘Looks good,’ he concluded, glancing up at her.
Evie’s face was flushed, embarrassed, her eyes closed and her head turned slightly away, as though she didn’t dare look at him.
As though she was ashamed of him seeing her scar. As though she was ashamed of the new softness around her abdomen after carrying their daughter, he realised incredulously.
Max ran a hand down over her belly, her flinching confirming his suspicions.
He opened his mouth to tell her not to be embarrassed, that they were a symbol of how strong she was, after all she’d been through this year. But then he realised she wouldn’t believe him. Still, he didn’t need to say anything; actions spoke louder than words, right?
He dropped his gaze to the full breasts that his hands ached to touch. The perfect brown nipple he longed to take in his mouth. Before he could stop himself, with one hand still on her hip, his other hand trailed up the opposite side of her body to her ribcage, the underside of her breasts. He left it there whilst he placed a kiss on her belly.
She moved one hand to hide the skin but didn’t push him away.
‘If this is about your scar or your body, I don’t want to hear it,’ he growled. ‘But if you really want me to stop, you say so now and I will.’
The wait almost killed him, but she said nothing as her breathing shallowed and the underside of her breast skimmed his knuckles. It was the signal he needed.
He flicked out the thumb to caress her nipple and, despite the hot shower, Evie’s skin goosebumped instantly in response, a low sound escaping her lips. He hardened immediately, straightening up until he could replace his thumb with his tongue, revelling in the way Evie slipped her fingers through his hair without any more hesitation, her other hand on his shoulder. He drew the hard nipple into his mouth, his tongue playing with it, his hands roaming the satiny skin of her body as she gripped his shoulder harder, arching slightly against him.
‘Kiss me, Max.’
The instruction was shaky but it was there, and Max slowly straightened up, his mouth claiming hers in one movement. Still, he was only too happy to oblige when she took his hand and returned it to its earlier ministrations of her breast, her own hand reaching for him as she gave a small sound of pleasure when he flexed in her palm.
Her hand closed around him, exactly the way she knew would get him, and he groaned with need, wanting to touch her, taste her, fill her. He stepped back to give his hand room to reach down between her legs, but as he removed his support from her she swayed and stumbled.
What the hell was he doing, pushing her like that?
Evie was still recovering. She might be trying to act as though she were recovering quickly but that didn’t mean she was ready for this no matter how she’d reacted. He should have known better than to act on it. He was supposed to be taking care of her, looking out for her. Not giving in to his desire for her.
Drawing away, he reached for the taps and spun them closed. Then, grabbing a bath sheet from the towel rail, he bundled Evie up and lifted her into his arms.
‘Max, what are you doing?’
Wordlessly, he carried her through to the bedroom and lowered her gently onto the master bed, before leaving the room. He needed to get to work and start his day. And maybe a couple of nights on call at the hospital would be the best thing for both Evie and himself, too.
CHAPTER NINE
PULLING THE CAR into the garage, Max leaned back in his seat and rubbed his hand over his neck. It had taken three days of gruelling surgeries, just to keep himself busy, sleeping at the hospital, and stop any wayward thoughts of Evie.
He didn’t know how to even begin to apologise to her for pushing her the other morning in the shower, his desire for her overwhelming his sense of what was right. He doubted she would be happy to see him this morning. He would have stayed away longer if he could and afforded her more space, but she had a post-op check-up in a couple of hours and he needed to ensure she didn’t miss it and was recovering well.
Despite everything, an inner peace had descended on him the moment the garage door had closed neatly behind him and he’d turned the engine off.
Home.
Sliding out of the car, he walked quietly through the connecting door to the hallway, careful not to make too much noise, which could wake Evie or Imogen, when a shadowy shape flickered in his peripheral vision.
‘What the.
..?’
Sidestepping the figure as it suddenly advanced towards him, he snapped the light on and spun around. A white-faced Evie blinked back at him, the loft hatch stick gripped in tight knuckles like a cricket bat. Her shoulders sagged slightly as she realised it was him.
She looked fierce, and frightened, and adorable. He tried to stop his lips from twitching.