Free The Arrangement (The Blankenships Book 9) by Evelyn Glass Page A

“Yes,” she said, focusing on keeping her eyes wide and her smile easy. “It would be so nice. Can I plan it? Make it all a surprise for you?”
     
    She could see him fighting himself. Surprises didn’t have the same ring that they’d had, just a few months before. But he wanted to please her and make her happy. He gave in more than he fought. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll leave it to you.”

 
     
    CHAPTER ELEVEN
     
    It took making a call to Helen to get everything in order. Yes, her leg was almost completely healed, with no sign of infection, and the scar was even starting to fade from its ugly dark purple into a more sedate angry red, which she was assured would likely become a pale yellow-y pink eventually, but walking on it still hurt. The muscle had been torn, and while Alex had made sure that the very best available doctors had been there to help her heal, it still pulled pretty sharply when she stood the wrong way or moved too fast with all her weight on that leg. But all in all, for a bullet wound, it was pretty much as good as these things got. The bullet hadn’t even tumbled, the doctors said, just went right through. Made a hell of a mess, and she was to watch for pain in that hip or shoulder, or other signs that she was favoring the leg. But otherwise, she was basically healed.
     
    But it would have been aching far too much for what she had in mind if she’d taken off shopping for the afternoon. Besides, Helen knew all her sizes and had a better idea of what she was looking for anyway.
     
    She stood in front of the mirror in the bedroom, smoothing her hands over her skin, admiring the way Helen’s purchases flattered the tone of her skin as well as fitting without cutting into anything. Alex enjoyed spoiling her, he said. He’d been slowly rebuilding her wardrobe, though she was utterly delighted that he was doing it in a non-creepy way. In movies, when someone got a makeover, all their comfy sweats and convenient pens for holding their hair up off their faces got thrown in the trash. Alex flat out said that he had no interest in messing with her period underwear or her pajama pants. But if she needed new things, he said, they should be the best.
     
    She liked how the lace and satin looked on her skin. She liked the tight, almost painful outline of metal against the thin fabric of her bra. She liked the warmth in her pussy.
     
    It wasn’t that he’d kept himself from touching her; far from it. They’d had sex a lot in the past month, as soon as she could move her leg around without making it bleed worse or ache. But he was so kind, and so gentle, and she loved it, but it wasn’t what she wanted. At least, not all the time.
     
    She’d banned Alex from entering the bedroom until she was dressed, but when he knocked, she called out “come in” before she thought better of it. As the door swung open, she realized that she was about to give away every secret she’d had planned. Well, not every secret, but enough of them. She let out a squeaky little shriek that was supposed to be her telling him not to come in yet. Since she didn’t manage to actually say any of the words, he didn’t stop; all she could think to do was to dive into the closet and close the door almost all the way.
     
    “Zoey?” Alex called out from the door. “Are you okay?” There was a note of worry in his voice, as if she’d just barely gotten home, not had a month to heal.
     
    “I’m fine,” she called from the closet, fully aware of how awkward the conversation was about to be.
     
    He stepped toward the closet door, and she found herself in the shockingly graceful position of waving her head through the crack between the door and the frame. “Nope. No. Go away. I’m still getting ready.”
     
    He paused, and then he laughed, his hand landing on the doorknob. He pulled against her, but gently, gently enough that he wouldn’t actually pull the door open, but enough to tease her. “Why should we even go