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“She has goals,” Ice quips. “This is gonna be interesting.”

“I have a job to do, one you’re gonna pay me very well to do.” I nod my head proudly.

“You have yourself a situation all your own. It would be wise of you to remember that.” Shooting Evan a quick look, he adds, “We’ll be around if you need something,” before making his way out of the condo. At the door, he yells back a bye to Hammer then exits with a wave of his fingers at me.

My situation cost me the life I knew, my sister, and has left me with an unknown future. It is not one I could forget.

Chapter

9

~Hammer~

Day one with my personal torturer, otherwise known as Desirae the physical therapist, starts off on a bad note. She doesn’t seem to appreciate it when I tell her to fuck off after she greets me good morning. It’s not my fault. Hasn’t anyone ever told the woman not to talk to people before they have their morning cup of coffee?

I am sort of grateful when she gives me the silent treatment afterward, but now, as she pushes me to do another set of exercises, working my core with the exercise ball, I have realized my mistake. She’s one of those broads you don’t want to be silent, because when she’s silent, she is plotting. And as the sweat rolls down my face and my abdomen burns from my workout, I know, without a doubt, I don’t want to piss her off again before another one of my workouts.

What’s even worse than her pushing me to the limits of my physical endurance on our very first session is that her touch is driving me insane! Every time she uses her hands to guide me into a position, it’s like a zap of electricity to my system. The feel of her soft skin gliding across my own hits me right where it counts—my dick. I have no idea what it is about this woman that sets my body on fire, but whatever it is, I need to hurry up and get the hell over it. It doesn’t matter how much I might want her; she would never want a busted-ass used-to-be biker like me.

She snaps her fingers in front of my face, jerking me out of my thoughts. “Hey, Mr. Grumpy Pants! I don’t know where your head is, but you need to get it back in the game. Now give me another ten reps. After that, we’re gonna move on.”

I will never underestimate this woman again.

~Desirae~

“Is all this shit really fucking necessary?” Hammer barks as I move through his personal space, making sure the equipment is installed properly.

“Well, since it is my understanding you are hell-bent on being Mr. Independent, I want to make sure you don’t injure yourself,” I snap back.

He reaches out, grabbing my hand, causing fire to zip through me. Day two together and I have never had a reaction to someone the way I do him.

Oh, hell, I have a feeling I’m in more trouble than I bargained for. This man does things to me I shouldn’t want to happen and should stop at every turn. A touch lighting me up is not what one would call professional.

“There are some things you should know.” He releases me and holds up his pointer finger. “First, my brothers installed everything and got all of the equipment. I trust them completely, so the shit is good.” He holds up a second finger. “Second, don’t ever fucking doubt my club or my brothers. As long as you’re with the Regulators, you are safe and will have the best of everything.” He holds up three fingers now. “Third—and I want to be very clear on this—I’m a man, Desirae. I may be knocked down, but I damn sure ain’t knocked out, so yes, I’m gonna do for myself. Deal with it.” His tone is sharp, making it clear there will be no arguing.

I cock my hip out and put my hand on it. “Hammer, you should know that I get the biker life, and I wouldn’t be here if my Hellions family didn’t trust your boys. I have a job to do, and baby, I damn sure do it well. I’m gonna go over everything regardless if the inventors themselves came to personally install it.” I reach out and touch my finger to his nose to tease him. “And I want to be very clear on this. I know you’re a man. No need to pound on your chest and scream, ‘me, Tarzan,’ okay?” I add the last part with a sassy smile before I turn around and go back to my tasks.

~Hammer~

It’s the morning of day three with Desirae. I roll my wheelchair out of my bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen and living room. Just like yesterday, there is a folded up blanket at the end of the couch. She doesn’t think I have realized she’s sleeping on my couch instead of my guest bedroom, but I have. The only question I have now is, why?

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