Claiming Her, Craving More, Needing Him, Only His (Nighthawk Security #1-4) Read Online Tory Baker

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Nighthawk Security Series by Tory Baker
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Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110278 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
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“Thank you, Rita.” I snap out of my stupor. If I think about Drake Martinez anymore, I’ll never get lunch or figure out what Nighthawk Security and Reid Industries are all about.

“No problem.” We wave, and then I’m off. I have a date with a Cobb salad and a crushed ice soft drink.

THREE

DRAKE

I run my left hand down my face. The effects from the pain medicine are making me more tired than ever. Sure, I need rest, I’m no dummy when it comes to listening to your body, but this drug-induced state has got to fucking stop.

“Ah, Mr. Martinez. Sorry it took me so long to make rounds today. An emergency surgery was wheeled in right when we finished up with you,” my surgeon says. I look outside the window seeing the sun is well past setting. I shake off my annoyance. This place is a joke even when I’m the one not in a bed.

“No problem.” I mask my annoyance.

“I see here you requested to be taken off pain medicine unless it’s over the counter and that you’ll be going home with a home health nurse for a few hours every day. He or she will help rebandage your dressing, help you take showers, and then work on the therapy aspect as well.”

“When will this be happening?” I grit my teeth, not wanting some stranger in my house seeing me in my weakest moments.

“Tomorrow. I want to see how you do overnight without pain medicine. If all goes as planned, you’ll be out of here by noon tomorrow. Sound good?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’m not too happy to be spending the night, but I knew it would happen. Thank you. Hopefully, I won’t be back here again for quite some time.” I shake his hand with my left hand, not liking that it makes me feel weak.

“I’m right there with you. Everything went smoothly, so with the right amount of rest and doing your exercises, I have no doubt you’ll be back to your regular activities in the next few months. You will be in the sling though, for four to six weeks,” he tells me again what he already said before the operation. If anyone wants out of this shit, it’s going to be me. There’s no way I want to be laid up any more than necessary.

“You got it,” I tell him.

“Knock, knock, look who I found wandering the halls,” Bridger announces as he opens the door.

“You look like shit,” my brother states. I roll my eyes. He’s one to talk.

“Those bags under your eyes are saying the same thing about yourself.” My tone is gruff, and what patience I did have is dwindling the longer I’m caged in this place.

Braxton recently bought old man Red’s mechanic shop, and he’s been busting his ass ever since. Working night and day, even with the help of Leo and me, it still has a long way to go. Especially with Braxton wanting it set up a certain way.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I guess it takes one to know one.” His hands are stained from grease and motor oil, a sign that the man has the same work ethic as me.

“No shit,” I grouse.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Drake.” Dr. Smith waves his hand and heads out the door. It has me laying my head back down on the pillow and taking a full breath of air. The guys told me earlier what the surgeon had said to them after I was brought in to recovery, but until I heard it from the man himself, I hadn’t been breathing easy.

“I’ll be counting down the hours, Doc,” I tell him, causing Braxton and Bridger to laugh.

“So, what’s the plan?” I ask Bridger. I’m not stupid enough to know he didn’t come back here scheming something.

“What do you mean, what's the plan? We break you out of here, take you home, and nurse you back to health.” His hands are in his pockets, and he rocks back on his heels.

“Bullshit. I know that stance. I’ve known you for how many years now? What do you have cooking up?”

“We’re in the process of getting you a certain nurse to help you.” He winks.

“Yoo-hoo,” someone says, walking through the door. I swear to Christ this place is like Grand Central Station, where anybody can come and go as they please.

“I’m here to take out your IV.” A woman who looks to be as old as my own mother comes in. Not the angel I had before.

“Where’s Giana?” I grumble, not wanting this nurse in here. Which is stupid. It’s not like she can’t do her job.

“She’s on her break. Giana will back in a bit and is pulling a double tonight, so she’ll be your night nurse.” She goes about her business removing the line for the pain medicine, allowing me to move my free arm better.


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