Fulfillment (Book 3 in The Temptation Series) (36 page)

“Gareth’s
situation is complex. You know this,” he said with an irritated
sigh.

I turned and
began to head toward the limo. “Of course I fucking know this. Have
I not just been having a conversation with Deirdre for the past
hour? That was probably one of the most complex situations I have
ever found myself in.” I approached Danny who was waiting by the
open door, but turned back to face Bryce, lowering my voice.
“Listen, I had to tell Sam. I would not have forgiven myself if
anything happened to her. And again, she had a right to know.” I
gave him the end-of-story look before I awkwardly climbed into the
limo.

***

Things were a
little tense during the ride home. Gareth had stared out the window
and hastily left us when we arrived back at City Towers. Lucy and
Nic had focussed their attention on Alexander right before we
dropped them off at their house. And Bryce had been quietly
pondering but still tenderly touching some part of my body at all
times, whether it was my shoulder, my arm, or my leg.

As soon as we
were back in the apartment, I got dressed in my gym attire as my
physiotherapist was due to make a house-call in a matter of
minutes. Bryce had made his way to his office, but not before
making me a heart-shaped sandwich and setting it on a plate in the
middle of the dining table. I smiled at his sentiment. Even in his
frustration and sometimes anger toward me, he could still find a
way to let me know he loved me.

The buzzer to
the door sounded as I bit down into my sandwich-of-love. “Coming,”
I muffled with a mouthful.

I grabbed my
crutches and headed for the door, opening it up to let in Tim, my
physiotherapist. I’d had a couple of sessions with him already and
found him really easy to get along with. He was also quite helpful
and extremely professional. Tim was in his mid to late twenties,
tall, shoulder length caramel hair, dark brown eyes and
athletically built. I’d also found out during our last session that
he had a fiancé and a two-year-old son.

“Hi, Tim. Come
in.” I hopped backward, clearing the door way to let him
through.

“So, how’s the
foot?”

“Good,
although my upper thigh is tight and sore.”

“Yeah, that
will happen. You’re no longer using those muscles like you should
be,” he explained as he made his way down into the lounge like he
had done last time. “I’m going to get you to start riding the
exercise bike today, to build up strength in your leg muscles and
to get your blood flowing properly again.”

He dropped his
bag on the floor and opened the bi-fold doors. “Come on, let’s get
to it.”

I spent
fifteen minutes on the bike on a low setting, then with Tim’s
assistance and guidance, did some weights to strengthen my upper
legs. After that session was complete we went back inside.

“Now before I
go, I’ll get you to lie down on this mat here, and I’ll stretch out
your legs for you.”

Tim rolled out
the yoga style mat and helped me position myself on my back. He
kneeled down at my feet and took a hold of my foot, removing the
moon boot. “Have you put any pressure on it yet?” he asked as he
gently felt the tender area.
Urgh! Stop touching my foot, I hate
it. Why didn’t I break my finger, or nose even...okay, maybe not
the nose.

I winced. “No,
not really.”

“Well this
week, I want you to put a very small amount of weight on it a
couple of times a day, but not enough so that it hurts. Pain is not
gain in this situation.”

He shuffled
forward, having one knee pushing against my arse and his other foot
out beside my body to steady himself—kind like he was about to
propose. Then, lifting my leg into the air, he pushed his body
against it, stretching my hamstring. “Feel the pulling?”

“Yep,” I
struggled to say, feeling the strain on my leg. I ignored the
stretched ache of my muscles by continuing to talk. “So, how’s your
son?”

“Good,
although he thinks his bedroom wall is a giant piece of paper,” he
answered with a roll of his eyes.

I laughed.
“Tell your fiancé to get some ‘Magic Erasers’, they live up to
their name.”

“Sweet. I
will.” He pushed my leg closer to my head just a little bit more.
“You feel that? Is it a good stretch?”

“Yeah,” I
awkwardly mumbled again.

Just as I
answered, Bryce stepped out from behind Tim, his hands in his pant
suit pockets.

“Hi,” I
groaned, while straining as my leg was pushed into my abdomen,
making it difficult to speak.

“Hi,” he
answered sternly while holding his hand out to Tim and introducing
himself, “Bryce Clark, Alexis’ partner.”

Tim let go of
my leg but pushed his body harder into me so as to not lose the
tension in my stretch. He reached his now free hand out to shake
Bryce’s. “Tim,” he answered as he gripped Bryce’s hand. “Alexis’
physiotherapist.”

I noticed
Bryce’s eye twitch as he looked down at our position on the floor.
He’s jealous. My Mr. Possessive Clark is jealous.
Then
again, I wouldn’t blame him. If Tim and I weren’t wearing clothes
or on the floor for the sole purpose of stretching, one could think
we were attempting the art of Kama Sutra.
Hmmm Kama Sutra and
Bryce all mixed together in a big ball of sexual Play-doh. I must
try that.

I smiled up at
him, letting him know I was aware of his unease. I didn’t do it to
rub salt into his wounds. I did it to reassure him that everything
was fine and that I felt his jealously was cute. He didn’t see that
meaning behind my smile and glared at me.

Bryce took a
seat on the sofa in his sexy, laid back couch position, with one
arm stretched out across the back of the seat and his foot crossed
over the top of his knee. I met his eyes and they told me he was
tense, needy, and desperate. He openly clenched the hand that was
rested on the back of the sofa and burned me with his stare. That’s
when my mouth broke into a seductive smile, and I noticed his dick
twitch in his pants.

My breath
caught, and I let out a small gasp.

“Is that too
hard, Alexis?” Tim’s voice sounded, bringing me back to his
attention.
Hard? No, but what’s pushing against Bryce’s pants is
hard, and I want it.

I looked at
Tim and honestly replied. “No, you can go harder if you’d
like.”

Bryce swapped
his leg over the other.

“No. I don’t
want to push you. Not yet, anyway,” Tim replied.

“How often
should she stretch like this?” Bryce asked, still looking intently
at my face.

“Daily, a few
times if she can. It will loosen the tension in her legs and
promote blood flow.”

Bryce
nodded.

“Okay, Alexis,
swap legs.” Tim shuffled backward and slowly brought my leg back
down. “How does that feel?”

“Good,” I
deliberately purred.

Tim then
gently set my foot down and lifted the other. “Now you should get a
bigger stretch out of this one. I should be able to push you
harder.” He looked down at a spot on the floor concentrating as he
pushed into me, stretching my leg a lot closer to my head this
time. While his stare was fixated on the ground, I seductively
flicked my eyebrows up and down at Bryce, his response being a
crack of his neck to either side.
God, I love that.

I ran my
tongue over the top of my teeth while eye-fucking him, driving him
wild.

“Alright,
Alexis, remember what I said: a little bit of weight on the foot
but no pain, exercise bike daily, but only ten minutes, and stretch
your legs out nice and hard.” He reattached my moon boot and got to
his feet, helping me up also. Bryce stood up and passed me my
crutches, giving his pants a subtle readjustment.

We both walked
Tim to the door.

“Thanks, Tim,
and don’t forget to tell your fiancé about those ‘Magic Erasers’,”
I said as he stepped he left the apartment.

“I won’t. See
you in a couple of days,” he called back.

I closed the
door behind him and was instantly pinned up against it, Bryce’s
hard body pressed up against mine. I could feel his heart beating
through his chest, and the heat that radiated from him was a
mixture of burning passion, burning anger, and burning need—all of
which I absorbed.

My breasts
swelled as they pushed into him, and the friction against my
nipples felt delicious. “Do you have a problem with my
physiotherapist, Mr. Clark?”

“I have a
problem with him pressing his cock into your leg.”

I bit the
inside of my lip in order to subdue a smile. “He was stretching me,
Bryce.”

“Yeah, well
I’m about to fucking stretch you, and I won’t be fucking stretching
your leg.” He scooped me up, and I squealed as he carried me off to
bed.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE

My foot had
improved dramatically after a few weeks of physiotherapy sessions
every second day, and I was now able to put the majority of my
weight on it by limping around with a walking stick—which was
awesome, obviously—except now I felt like my late grandmother. I
still had to wear the moon boot, but I could take it off when I was
resting, during sleep, and during sex—which was a lot.

From the
moment I told Bryce that I wanted to try for another baby—and from
the moment we were in a position to actually do it—he had taken
that confession and exploited the shit out of it, taking me against
every surface available during any available moment of the day.
When I looked back over the amount of times we had made love in
recent weeks I kind of felt like a sexed-up whore-a-saurus, but not
in a bad way, in a good way...a
very
good
way.

Things had
started to go back to normal again—normal being an understated word
in my life, but normal in the sense that the kids were happy and
healthy, Bryce and I were happy and healthy—with exception of my
foot—and work was as per usual, Bryce busy running his company, and
I was busy running his errands and office. Even my relationship
with Rick was on the mend, to a point where I had felt comfortable
enough to have a coffee with him and Claire after dropping the kids
off at my old house...yes him
and Claire
! She
and RJ had moved in with Rick and he seemed relatively happy. I say
relatively, because I did still pick up on a very small vibe that
Rick still loved me and wanted me back. I could see it buried deep
behind his eyes in a place he thought was hidden but wasn’t—not
from me anyway.

There were
things that he had been proficient in hiding from me, but either I
had become more astute to their discovery or he no longer had the
ability to successfully hide them. Either way, that ship had long
sailed. I was Bryce’s and he was mine, and I had never been more
sure of anything than I was of that.

We can stumble
upon a connection in life—a feeling, an instinct even, having an
uncontrollable desire to act upon it—all the while knowing that
acting upon it may or may not be the right thing to do. The thing
is it’s in that action where we prove our initial feeling to be
right or wrong. I had done just that, acted on my connection with
Bryce and it paid off. We were in love—made for each other.

***

During the
past few weeks I’d covertly kept up my guitar lessons with Derek,
some by way of FaceTime in the man-cave while Bryce was working,
and others when he was out of the office at appointments. It was
tedious, and I hated sneaking around behind his back— especially
after he thought I was seeing Derek on the side—but I did it,
because I knew the outcome was worth it. I was actually becoming
relatively good at playing the guitar considering the short amount
of time I’d had to learn. Lucy was right; he was going to
absolutely love it. I couldn’t wait. Well...I couldn’t wait to see
his reaction, but I could wait to get up in front of an entire room
full of people. That scared the absolute shit out me. The gig was
only a month away and I knew it wouldn’t be long before long I was
taking that plunge and performing for him.

Those nerves,
together with the frustration of still having to wear a stupid
Velcro, space-inspired foot brace, were putting a damper on my
recent good spirits. I’d had enough of my broken ankle, and, as
stupid as it may sound, it was not the reminder of my fall and
miscarriage that I wanted or thought I should endure. I’d lost so
much more, but my ankle seemed to oppress that and it kind of
irritated me. I wanted out of this moon boot completely and back
into my heels. I wanted to forget about falling down the stairs but
not forget about Bianca. She was far more superior than my
shattered ankle, and she deserved my recollection more than my fall
and subsequent fracture.

***

Feeling a
little flat and wishing the next few weeks would pass by rather
quickly, I sat on the circular ottoman in the middle of the
walk-in-stadium, my knees raised and my head resting on top of
them. I sulked as I looked over my rainbow wall of heels, heels I
missed terribly. It would be months before I could wear any of them
again, and pathetic as it may sound, it saddened me.

“Stop staring
at your shoes and get out of there,” Bryce called from the
bathroom.

“No! I can’t
do anything else with them at the moment apart from stare, so I’m
staring,” I grumbled.

The buzzer to
the front door sounded. “Perfect timing,” he mumbled.

I grabbed my
walking stick and headed out of the room, momentarily stopping in
my tracks at the sight of Bryce. He was not long showered and
casually dressed in dark denim designer jeans which hugged his arse
perfectly. He also had on a plain long sleeved black v-neck t-shirt
which clung to his muscled arms and chest. He looked simply
gorgeous.

“Where are you
going?” I asked curiously and somewhat disappointed that he was
going out without me.