His eyes moved over her face thinking that he already knew he could fall in love with this woman.

What he was figuring out was he was about to head into free fall.

And he was not going to reach out a hand to grab hold of anything.

It was coming clear he was good to just…

Drop.

Mag opened his eyes and saw dark.

But he felt nagging pain in his shoulder.

He also felt Evie’s head resting on the other one and her arm along his gut.

He was still up on the pillows, and it hit him that he’d fallen asleep in the middle of ice cream. Then she’d obviously turned out the lights, switched off the TV, and snuggled up to him on top of the covers, probably so she wouldn’t disturb him.

And she hadn’t.

He hadn’t woken up.

He also hadn’t taken a painkiller, which right then he knew was a mistake.

Last, he was a stomach or side sleeper and he needed to move, but couldn’t, because Dr. Baldwin told him to sleep a few days in the sling, on his back, elevated.

But he was uncomfortable.

The only good thing about his position was Evie cozied up to him, though she’d trapped his arm against his side with her warm softness.

To try to fool his body into a semblance of comfort, he stretched his legs and carefully pushed his arm under her so he could wrap it around her.

He didn’t go careful enough.

Her head moved on his shoulder, her body shifted against his, pressing closer, and her hold across his stomach tightened.

Fuck.

Just that from his Evie and he was getting hard.

She tipped her head back and he felt her push her face to his neck.

“You awake, honey?” she mumbled.

“Go back to sleep, baby,” he replied.

She moved again, which meant he had more of her weight, including her tits pressed to his side.

Jesus.

“You sound really awake,” she said.

“I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”

She lifted her head. “Are you in pain?”

He moved his hand to run the tips of his fingers soothingly along her back.

The problem with that was, her cami had ridden up and his fingers hit soft, smooth skin.

Christ.

“I’m good, promise,” he lied.

She misinterpreted the tightness in his voice and shifted again, murmuring, “I’m gonna go get you a pill.”

But Mag curled his arm around her and clamped tight. “Don’t want you to move.”

“Is my moving hurting you?”

Everything about her was agony right then, but not that way.

He should have known he wouldn’t be able to make it through a night with Evie in his bed.

He’d agreed to it because she didn’t want to be alone.

And because he wanted her in his bed.

“No,” he grunted.

He must have communicated something in that grunt because her voice went soft and sweet in a way he felt right in his dick when she whispered, “I think we’re gonna get up to some shenanigans.”

That tone in her words?

Her body pressed to his?

Oh yeah, they were.

She pushed up as he turned, and when her mouth slammed into his, she only smushed his lips a little against his teeth.

But to be fair, it wasn’t all her.

He was right there with her.

Though Mag didn’t mind because, right after, when he offered his tongue, she sucked it deep.

As usual with his Evie, the heat shot through the stratosphere the moment they tasted each other.

He’d never had that with a woman. That zero to ten thousand with a taste.

But there it was again.

In his bed.

This meant the sling had to go.

He pushed away, she heard the click of the clasp, whispered, “Danny” uncertainly, but he slid the fucking thing off, tossed it, and went back in.

He took her mouth, tangled himself up in her and her protests were gone.

When she was pressing close, seeking his now rock-hard cock with her hips, her hands all over his back, in his hair, and her mouth got greedy, he put his hand up her cami to go for her tit and he knew he already had her way in the zone when she didn’t let that happen.

Oh no.

Her arms went right up so he’d pull the cami off.

This he did, then cupped her breast and lifted it, bending to it, the nag in his shoulder only a nuisance in his bid to get his mouth around her nipple.

He pulled deep, felt his gut tighten when it budded on his tongue and felt the sound of her moan blaze right through his balls.

Her nails scraped his scalp, her other hand dove into the back of his shorts and curled into his ass.

Fucking hell, she was hot.

Sweet and hot.

He returned to her mouth and she breathed, “Danny,” against his lips, rubbing up against him, using her hand at his ass to press him closer, and on instinct, his hand went to her belly, down into her shorts, and in.

Oh yeah.

Fuck yeah.

His Evie.

Sweet.

Hot.

And wet.

She whimpered and started riding his fingers before he even got one to her clit.

“Baby,” he growled appreciatively.

“Yes…yes, that feels…nice,” she gasped.

Nice didn’t cover it.

It felt so nice, he wanted more.

So, he glided a finger hard over her clit and up inside her sleek wet.

Her head fell back, her nails dug in and she started riding that.

Christ.

She was perfect.

That said…

“Evie,” he slid his finger out and lazily circled her clit, “let’s slow it down, honey.”

Her response was to slide her hand that was in his shorts over his hip and latch onto his dick.

All right.

Fuck yeah.

Guess they weren’t going to go slow.

With her hand at his cock, he was way down with that too.

She stroked.

He groaned.

She kissed him.

He took over and pressed her to her back.

He returned to finger fucking her and she jacked him while they went at each other’s mouths like kissing was going to be outlawed.

He was about to call it and move on to the next portion of the festivities, his choice, going down on her, when she moaned a warning, needy, “Danny,” against his mouth.

All right.

He’d go down on her in the morning.

He rolled off, at the same time tearing her shorts and panties down her legs.

She went after his shorts as he went after a condom in his nightstand.

They were both naked and she had her mouth all over his chest and neck, her hands all over his stomach and nipples as he tore it open and rolled it on.

And then Evie…

Christ, his Evie…

He barely got the condom to the root, and she was up, swinging on to take a ride.

Mag couldn’t stop his smile.

He did stop her from taking over by angling up, ignoring the flash of pain in his shoulder, and grabbing her hips as he rolled them in the bed.

When he had her on her back with him on top, between her legs, he ran his hands over her ass, down the backs of her thighs, lifting her knees.

She dove between them and commandeered his cock.

There was humor in the thickness of his tone when he said, “Baby.”

“Hurry.”

“This isn’t a race,” he pointed out.