Hammer (12 page)

I’m still lost in her beautiful brown eyes as she comes through my doorway then stops dead cold. I snap out of my daydream to realize she’s standing right in front of me … and I have to crane my head back to keep my eyes trained on hers, which won’t stop staring at me.

The sensation that flows through me is worse than having ice cold water poured on you when you’re asleep. It is more than a shock; it is a hit to the very manhood I didn’t think I had left. Now I’m obliterated completely.

All by a curvy, little woman who is looking at me with a mixture of hope and dread.

I never understood the phrase “love to hate” until just now. Everything about the foxy woman in front of me lights up every caveman instinct I never knew I had, and I’m half a man who can’t do a damn thing about it now.

~Desirae~

My hands are shaking by the time Ice stops in front of the condo door. I don’t think I have ever been this nervous to meet a client. The thing is, these aren’t normal clients or normal circumstances. I work for badasses who could probably make me disappear in a heartbeat if they had to. The Hellions are damn good guys I know would never hurt me, but all of these bikers are brand new to me. I don’t care if Tank double pinky swore I would be safe here; they need to earn my trust as much as I have to earn theirs.

Ice opens the door and holds it open for me. Warily, I step from where I was standing off to the side and look into the infamous Hammer’s apartment for the very first time. It seems nice, if a little messy and sparse. There is the bare minimum furniture of the typical man cave: leather couches and big ass television. There are no knick-knacks or decorative items to liven up the place. There are nice, hard wood floors, and what I can see of his furniture looks to be on the expensive side instead of cheap. But where is the patient I have been warned so thoroughly about?

Taking two more steps until I’m through the door, my hand tightens on my bag’s shoulder strap in anticipation. I look toward the other side of the room, and that’s where I find a hulking man in a wheelchair that almost seems too small for him.

His hands are clutching his chair’s arm pads so tightly I think that he may be more nervous than I am. My gaze travels from his hands up to his face, and I almost stop dead in my tracks.

Would he hate me if I told him he is gorgeous? Because he is.

He has short, spiky, blond hair cut close to his scalp; chiseled cheekbones; a strong, square jaw; and eyes that sort of remind me of the ocean. They are murky, deep, swirling shades of blue and green that draw me in, only to spit me back out a second later due to the emotion that begins to burn through them: anger.

Perhaps even hate.

Holy shit, what did I do to piss this guy off already?

“Well, are you just gonna stand there and stare, or are you gonna come the fuck into my home?”

Oh, shit. He thinks I’m gawking at him in his chair. I totally know better than to do that shit to patients who are only recently disabled. He is still psychologically struggling with his situation, and that’s totally understandable.

Pasting on a brave smile, I step forward, hold out my hand, and introduce myself. “Hi! My name’s Desirae, but you can call me Des. Sorry if you thought I was staring at you. I didn’t mean to seem rude, but has anyone ever told you that you have the most incredible eyes?”

Said incredible eyes turn from angry to disbelieving as he reaches out, takes my hand in his own, and gives it a quick shake before practically tossing it away.

“Sure, along with a big, swingin’ dick. Name’s Hammer. This is my house. Try not to fuck it up.”

Shocked by his rudeness, I stand there as he just keeps going, jerking a thumb to another guy who stands to his right and behind him.

“This is my brother Evan. He’s the pretty boy who strips for a living, so you should try to blow smoke up his ass instead of mine about incredible eyes. You’ll get laid faster that way. In the meantime, I’ll stay out of your way if you stay out of mine.”

Whirling his chair around in an angry huff, he barrels down a hallway faster than a race horse, presumably into what is his bedroom. Then he slams his door shut.

Holy crapola! What just happened here?

Turning my head, I look at Ice who is blocking the doorway, almost as if he is afraid I will try to run.

I snarl, “You said he was an asshole, but you didn’t tell me that he was an epic asshole with a chip on his shoulder because someone obviously pissed in his Wheaties. If he’s gonna be like this the entire time I’m here, I’ll expect a pay raise. I don’t care if you guys are doing me a favor or not.”

Ice smirks, holding both of his hands up in the air as if he is trying to placate a crazy woman or something. He has no idea! I haven’t shown him crazy yet.

“If you think about it, I did warn you. I told you he was hurting, angry, and acting like an asshole.”

Put off by his totally logical explanation, I huff back, “But you forgot to tell me someone pissed in his Wheaties!”

Rolling his eyes, Ice walks into the condo and closes the door. “If you think that’s bad, you won’t last a day with him. Tank said you can take care of yourself, so pull up your big girl panties and do your job, woman.”

I let out an exasperated huff. Tank gave him his word that I am good. I’m here on his name. I will show these guys just how tough the Hellions have made me. I can take care of myself and their asshole, too.

“Your room is down the hall,” Evan says, extending his hand in the opposite direction of Hammer’s room.

“How self-sufficient is he?”

The guys both smirk at me.

“I read the file, but living in an unequipped home changes what a patient is capable of. I’m concerned with being across the place from him should he need assistance at night.”

“Oh, our boy will need lots of assistance at night,” Ice quips, looking me up and down. “You might fit the bill with all those curves, but with the life we lead, I’m not sure you can handle the Hammer.”

Frustrated, I roll my eyes. “I mean on a professional manner.”

“She’s got spunk,” Evan chimes in. “This might work, after all.”

Spunk. I have spunk. They have no idea what I have, and they don’t need to know. I’m here to do a job, but once I’m cleared to go back to North Carolina, that’s where I will be.

Ice moves through the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets. He takes out his wallet and throws a few bills on the counter. “Evan, get her whatever she needs to get by. She’s not to leave here.”

Evan raises an eyebrow at Ice in question. “She is here of her own accord, right?”

I burst out laughing. “Why, yes, Evan, I sign up for every asshole duty I can find!”

His eyes grow big.

I take a deep breath. “I’m here of my own free will. The Regulators MC is paying me for a service, one I have provided to a different club previously. Now that we have all covered my qualifications, can we get some water and fruit in this place while I unpack? Tomorrow, I will sit down with Hammer and come up with a care plan for both his physical and his mental goals.”

“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?

I would accuse her of thinking she’s too good for my guest bedroom, but it’s not like my couch is that much of an upgrade. Therefore, there has to be some other reason she spends her nights on a leather sofa that barely fits her instead of a comfortable bed.

Hearing the beep of the coffee pot, I look over to see her in a pair of pajama shorts with hearts all over them and a red T-shirt. Her hair is mussed from sleep still, and her face has this soft look that reminds me of my mom. She’s holding a spatula, and it smells like she’s cooking eggs. At least she has learned to turn on the coffee pot before poking the bear. This is a step in the right direction for us.

Looking over at me with a cautious smile, she points at the coffee cup she has put out on the counter. “That’s for you. I’m making us omelets. Do you like ham and cheese?”

She’s cooking for me? I blink at her in surprise. I can’t remember the last time someone cooked me breakfast. Granted, I’m not usually around anyone in the mornings, but still. This is weird … and sort of nice.

Clearing the sleep from my voice, I mumble back, “Yeah.”

She keeps staring at me, as if waiting for something. One of her eyebrows rises slowly, and now I’m racking my brain, trying to figure out what I forgot. She offered me breakfast, and I said yes. I don’t get it.

Question asked, question answered. That just about covers everything, right?

“Unless she expects to be thanked for her nice gesture, Ethan McCoy.”
My mother’s voice rings in the back of my head, scolding me just as she did when I was a boy. Shit. Is that what she’s waiting for? There’s only one way to find out.

“Thanks?” I throw out, hoping she stops staring at me.

She gives me a big smile that lights up her entire face, and like some fumbling teenager who has never had his hands up a girl’s shirt, my heart skips a beat.

I would give her a thousand thank yous if she kept smiling at me like that.

Wait … What? Did I just really think that? Fuck, I need some coffee.

~Desirae~

Oh, my God, please tell me this man has a mixing bowl. I can skip the beaters—a spoon will do just fucking fine—but if I don’t get my hands on a big enough bowl, I may scream.

“Woman!” he roars as he wheels out of his room without a shirt on, wearing just sweat pants. “Must you be so fucking loud?”

“I need a bowl,” I say, not hiding my frustration.

“In the cabinet over the fridge.”

“Are you serious? That’s the liquor cabinet.”

“No, the liquor goes beside the fridge for easy access.”

I shake my head as I drag a chair over and climb up to get the bowl. I hear him groan as I can’t help twisting, trying to reach for it. When the air hits my ass cheeks, I realize my shorts are a little too short to be climbing on things in front of him.