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.