Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The morning light sliced through Ethan’s floor-to-ceiling windows, painting the bedroom in harsh gold. I lay tangled in his sheets, body still humming from the way he’d held me last night—like I was the only thing anchoring him to the world. My ribs ached less today, my leg felt stronger in the boot, but the knot of fear in my chest hadn’t loosened.

Ethan emerged from the bathroom in nothing but dark boxer briefs, water still glistening on his broad shoulders and carved abs. He stopped at the edge of the bed, eyes dragging over me like he was memorizing every curve. “You look good in my bed, Lila. Dangerous.”

I pulled the sheet higher over my soft belly out of habit. “We need to talk about what happens when I go back to work full time. The rumors are already vicious. And your father—”

He climbed onto the bed, caging me with his arms. “My father doesn’t get to decide who I want.” His hand slid under the sheet, palm warm against the wide curve of my hip. “And I want you. All of you. These hips, this belly, these thick thighs that fit perfectly around me when you come undone. I’m not hiding it anymore.”

Heat pooled low in my stomach, but I pushed his chest lightly. “Ethan, we can’t keep sneaking around supply rooms and on-call beds. Someone’s going to get hurt. Or worse.”

He kissed me instead—deep, claiming, the kind of kiss that made my toes curl and my doubts scatter. When he pulled back, his voice was rough. “Then we stop sneaking. You’re mine. Let them talk.”

We barely made it out the door on time. His security team drove us, two silent shadows in the front seats. At the hospital he walked me straight into the trauma department, hand at the small of my back, no attempt to hide it. Heads turned. Whispers exploded.

Dr. Ryan Hayes was at the nurses’ station when we arrived. His easy smile faltered when he saw Ethan’s possessive stance. “Morning, Lila. Dr. Black.” The greeting was polite, but his eyes lingered on me a second too long.

Ethan’s jaw flexed. “She’s under my direct supervision today, Hayes. Focus on your own cases.”

The shift started normally enough—charts, vitals, a steady stream of broken bones and chest pains—but the tension never dropped. Every time Ethan brushed past me, his fingers grazed my waist or the side of my breast “accidentally.” Each touch sent sparks through me, a dangerous reminder of what we’d done in that supply room yesterday.

Around midday, a code blue rolled in. Chaos erupted. I moved on instinct, helping bag the patient while Ethan took charge, voice sharp and commanding. Watching him work—calm, brilliant, utterly in control—made something deep inside me clench with want. When the patient stabilized and we stepped back, Ethan caught my eye across the bay. The look he gave me was pure fire.

We didn’t even make it to the supply room this time.

He pulled me into the stairwell between floors, locking the door behind us. “I can’t wait until tonight,” he growled, spinning me so my back pressed against the cool wall. His mouth claimed mine while his hand shoved under my scrubs, cupping my heavy breast and teasing the nipple until I whimpered. “Need to feel you.”

I reached down, palming the hard length of him through his pants. “Then feel me.”

He dropped to his knees right there on the concrete, yanking my pants down and burying his face between my thighs. The risk—anyone could come down those stairs—made it filthy and electric. I came fast and hard, biting my fist to stay quiet, legs shaking around his shoulders.

When he stood, he kissed me so I tasted myself again, eyes dark with satisfaction. “Good girl. Hold on to that until I can fuck you properly.”

The rest of the shift felt like foreplay. Stolen glances. Brushing hands. Hayes tried to talk to me once during a lull, but Ethan materialized like a storm cloud and shut it down with a single cold look.

By the end of the day I was aching—in every sense. We drove back to his apartment in charged silence. The second the door closed he had me against it again, but this time he slowed down, stripping me piece by piece like he was unwrapping something sacred.

“I meant what I said this morning,” he murmured, kissing down my neck, across my collarbone, then lower to lavish attention on my breasts. “No more hiding.” His hands roamed over my soft belly, gripping my wide hips, spreading my thick thighs as he settled between them on the couch. He took his time, tongue and fingers working me until I was sobbing his name, coming so hard my vision whited out.

After, as we lay tangled and sweaty, his phone rang. Unknown number. He answered on speaker, body still pressed protectively against mine.

“Enjoying your whore, son?” Richard Black’s voice was smooth, cultured, and ice-cold. “Cute. But if you don’t end this little rebellion, the next accident won’t be survivable. For either of you.”

Ethan’s arm tightened around me. “Touch her and I’ll release every file I have on your dirty trials. Every death. Every bribe. I’ll bury you.”

The line went dead.

I shivered against his chest. “He knows where we are. He knows everything.”

Ethan tilted my chin up, eyes fierce. “Then we stop playing defense. Tomorrow we dig. You remember more about that van every day. We find proof, expose him, and end this.”

I nodded, fear and determination twisting together in my gut. His hand stroked soothing circles over my curves, but I could feel the storm building. Richard Black wasn’t going to let his son go without a fight.

And I was right in the middle of it—curves, courage, and all.