by Julia Sykes
I wanted to linger in the bathroom, to extend my moment of privacy. But looking at myself was making me feel slightly queasy, so I elected to get away from my reflection. When I exited the bathroom, I meekly walked back to the bedroom that was my prison cell without Bradley directing me.
Bide your time. Be compliant. Build trust. Repeating my new mantra in my head made the idea of behaving myself easier to swallow.
Sean’s eyes were immediately drawn to me, roving over my body in a way that I told myself I did not appreciate. I didn’t. But my slight blush told me otherwise. Had seven years of celibacy really made me so desperate that I would react to a man who I should hate?
His eyes met mine as he shot me a slow, lazy smile, and something strange stirred in my belly.
Yes, apparently it had. Damn it, why hadn’t I made time for even a casual fuck in that time? Because I didn’t do casual, that’s why.
No, it’s because you don’t do intimacy, a nasty, truthful voice said in the back of my mind.
Shut up! I snapped at it, funneling my anger at myself into a scowl at Sean.
He seemed unaffected by my show of ire, his grin only widening as though he found me cute again. I gritted my teeth and forced back the angry words that threatened to bubble forth.
Be civil, I ordered myself.
“It’s a shame I missed shower time,” he said, still captivating me with that cocky look. Unbidden and unwanted images of Sean’s wet body against mine flitted through my mind, his hard muscles sliding against my flesh as we stood entwined, naked under the hot spray…
What the fuck, Claudia? How was I going to survive being with this man? What power did he hold over me to make me react to him in this way? I mentally shook myself.
“We really should clean that wound,” I said clinically, trying to win some authority back in this situation.
“Ah,” he said, almost leering now. “So it seems shower time is back on the table, after all.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Not in a million years,” I said coldly. I turned to Bradley, who was still hovering in the doorway. “I need a soft, wet cloth and some mild soap,” I said imperiously, taking control.
But Sean immediately took me back down a few pegs. “Why, Nurse Claudia, are you going to give me a sponge bath?”
“It’s Doctor Ellers,” I snapped. “And this is purely a clinical procedure, not some kinky fantasy you’re cooking up based on a sordid porno. Do you want to die from an infection? Because believe me, there is nothing sexy about that.”
He held up his hands, placating. “Alright, alright,” he said, but his eyes were still dancing with mirth. “Sexy is kind of my thing, so I wouldn’t want to go ruining it.”
I glowered at him, but it had no effect. After a moment, I threw up my hands in exasperation, turning away from his disconcertingly perfect face and reaching for my first aid kit that was propped up against the wall. I wiped my hands down with antiseptic and then pulled on a pair of medical gloves. Taking a deep breath, I approached Sean.
I pierced him with a sharp look. “If I hear one more disgusting word out of you, I’ll stop. Then it’ll be up to Nurse Bradley to take care of you.”
Sean gave a dramatic shudder. “No, thank you.” Still, he couldn’t seem to help but smirk at me. “I promise I’ll be good.”
While Bradley went to fetch what I had asked for, I began to unwrap the gauze covering Sean’s chest. I could feel his eyes on me as I worked, but I resolutely kept my focus on what I was doing. Now that I was so close to him again, I found myself being caught up in that alluring aura that pulsated around him. I tried to shove it from me as though I could mentally force it away, but it kissed at my skin, little tendrils twining around my arms as though trying to bind me to him.
It became even more impossible to ignore once Bradley had silently handed me the soapy cloth. When the wound was revealed, I gently began running it over Sean’s flesh, wiping away the dried blood that had caked on his skin. But as I did so, my fingers brushed against him, and that electricity that seemed to crackle around us spiked up my arm even at the light touch, leaving my skin tingling. I heard Sean hiss in a breath, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the pain of the wound or if he felt the same thing I did.
Unable to help myself, I glanced up into his eyes. The dark flame was back, burning deepest green. I had to suppress a shudder at the intensity of it, and I forced myself to sever the connection between us, turning my attention back to what I was supposed to be doing.
True to his word, he allowed me to work in silence, and I redoubled my pace, anxious to get away from him. Still, I worked carefully, unwilling to cause him pain as I carried out my task. I had to suppress a small sigh of relief when I finished, forcing myself not to draw away from him too quickly.
“Ummm….” Sean began, uncharacteristically hesitant. I looked up to find a curious expression on his face that I couldn’t decipher. “Would it be alright if I took a shower?”
I blinked, taken aback by this sudden shift in attitude. Was he really asking my permission? “Sure,” I said after a moment. “That should be fine. Just be careful not to touch the wound. Can you stand on your own?”
He rolled his eyes at me, the cocky man returning. “I’ll be fine, doc.” He pushed himself up on one elbow, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. But he winced as the move jarred his shoulder, and Bradley was instantly at his side. Placing an arm around Sean, he helped him onto his feet.
“I can walk on my own,” Sean said defiantly.
Bradley eyed him skeptically. “Are you sure? At least let me help you-”
“Uh-uh,” Sean said staunchly, cutting him off. “You and I are not having shower time together. Not to break your heart or anything, but I’m just not that into you.”
Bradley scoffed at him but released him reluctantly. Sean swayed for a moment, but he quickly found his footing. He moved very carefully as he walked slowly towards the bathroom, Bradley following anxiously in his wake. Still, Bradley wasn’t too distracted to lock the door behind him, confining me in my cell.
So it seemed I wasn’t trusted yet. I pursed my lips and repeated my mantra.
Bide your time. Be compliant. Build trust.
Chapter 5
I awoke the next morning and cursed silently at myself. I was pressed up against Sean again, my hand gripping his forearm. My swift movement away from him caused the bed to shift, and his eyes fluttered open. He gave me that slow, lopsided smile that did funny things to my insides. I dropped my gaze, trying to shake off its effect. But that was a mistake. My eyes instantly fell on the huge bulge in his sweatpants. The size of it was even more apparent now that it wasn’t constrained by his jeans.
“You’re staring again,” he said pointedly as he noticed my shameful behavior.
I jerked my eyes away as my cheeks burned. I elected not to say anything. I knew that if I did open my mouth, I would hurl venomous words at him. And that would definitely not be a point in my favor in the whole building trust thing.
But other than that one comment, he didn’t pressure me to talk to him, instead allowing me to read in peace for the day. I was grateful for that. Really I was. Not talking meant that he couldn’t hurt me again with his careless words. And he couldn’t mess with my thought processes with his heated looks.
But not talking also meant that the time passed very slowly. So I immersed myself in A Game of Thrones, devouring the first book in the space of two days.
Three more days passed, and I was doing a good job of sticking to my plan: be civil, but don’t be too friendly with Sean. Being perpetually alone with him in a confined space was hard enough. If I pretended to be charmed by his infuriatingly cocky demeanor, I knew that I would only be inviting more lewd innuendos and distinctly unsettling heated looks. Even with minimal talking, I still felt that strange connection between us pulsing in the air as we sprawled out on his bed for most of the day, a silent companionship growing between us.
We
had worked out a little rhythm to our days: Bradley would bring us our meals, he would escort me to the bathroom when I needed it, and I would relish the moments of privacy that I stole when I was allowed to take a shower. But there was a decidedly disconcerting part to every day. Every morning, I would find myself curled up against Sean, as though my sleeping self couldn’t help but succumb to his hold over me. And then the first thing I would see would be the bulge in his pants, that knowing smile on his face that made something quiver inside me despite my best efforts.
I chose to ignore the feeling, unwilling to dwell on what it meant. Instead, I threw myself into Sean’s books, speeding through A Clash of Kings before starting in on A Storm of Swords. I hadn’t been lying to him; I hadn’t read for pleasure in years. I couldn’t deny that it was kind of nice to not have to think of anything, to just lose myself in a good book. I had forgotten what a release the escapism could be.
On the third day, my audible gasp broke the silence between us.
“I know what part of the book you’re on,” Sean said sagely from beside me.
“Oh my god,” I said in a rush, unable to hold myself back. “Did that seriously just happen?”
“Yep. The series is pretty amazing, right?” He was grinning, obviously pleased that I was enjoying something that he loved dearly. His perfect, purely joyous smile - almost boyishly innocent – momentarily stunned me.
I just nodded dumbly, not managing to formulate any words.
“See?” He said with satisfaction. “I knew you weren’t a robot. We just needed to expose you to some quality literature.” His expression turned smug. “Spending some time with me will be good for you. You can join the human race again.”
My heart twisted as I realized the irony of his words. “Can I?” I asked softly, almost beseechingly.
His face darkened immediately, anger tinged with sadness. “You know I can’t let you go, Claudia,” he said. He spoke quietly, but his voice had a hard edge to it that told me this wasn’t up for debate.
I swallowed back my disappointment, not daring to contradict him. Getting into an argument would only undo all of my efforts at civility.
“You should read Harry Potter next,” he said lightly. “They’re supposed to be kids’ books, but they’re really addicting. Besides, we need to catch you up on your pop culture knowledge.”
I went along with the abrupt change of subject, and I plastered on a teasing smile.
“How did you become such a nerd?” I asked, part of me genuinely curious. “It doesn’t really go with the rest of your tough-guy, ladies’ man persona.”
He gave me a mock-offended look. “I’ll have you know that nerdy is the new sexy,” he said, his tone laced with false hurt. But something flickered in his eyes. Was that real pain that I saw in their emerald depths? But it was gone as soon as it had appeared, so quickly that I couldn’t be sure that I had actually seen anything there at all.
“Besides,” he continued on, “I also do some work-related reading. You’re not the only one who’s committed to their job.”
I glanced over at the books on the top shelf. “You’re a carpenter?” I asked, surprised to find myself actually interested.
“Yep,” he said, grinning. “A damn good one, too.” Then he frowned. “Unless getting shot in the shoulder fucks all that up.” He looked at me questioningly, true concern etched in the lines of his face. It seemed that for all his cockiness, he was deeply passionate about his work. I was shocked to realize that we actually had something in common, and I found myself feeling a grudging respect for him.
“You should be fine,” I said reassuringly. “It’ll take a while for your muscles to fully heal, so you should take it easy for a while, but you should be back to yourself in a few months.”
He let out a small sigh of relief. Then his expression turned curiously serious. “Thank you,” he said, his voice sincere. “For everything you’ve done for me.”
“You’re welcome,” I said softly, taken aback by the gratitude in his eyes.
“So,” he said abruptly, puncturing the intimate moment. “Tell me more about you. What’s your story?”
What’s my story? I thought grimly. My parents died when I was thirteen, I lived in the hell that was the Ames household for the next four years, and then I spent the next seven years throwing myself into my studies and shutting everyone out of my life and my heart.
I wasn’t about to admit any of that. Especially not to Sean. So he would get the cheery, cliffs-notes version that I gave everyone who asked me the same question.
“Well, in a nutshell: I graduated high school with honors, went pre-med at Columbia, then got my MD at NYU.” I paused, unwilling to divulge more. “So, where did you go to college?” I asked, diverting the conversation back to him.
I immediately regretted the question as his expression tightened ever so slightly. But his voice was casual when he spoke. “I didn’t,” he said. “Carpentry is kind of the family business, so I did an apprenticeship under my dad. I’ve pretty much been working at it my whole life.”
“Oh,” I said to cover the slight awkwardness that had arisen between us. “I’m kind of the same way, you know,” I chattered. “My dad was a surgeon, and I always wanted to be like him. There was never a doubt in my mind that I wanted to go to med school.”
“So you’re a surgeon too?” Sean asked, rolling with the new conversational direction.
“No,” I admitted. “I decided to become a pediatrician. I wanted to work with kids.”
To care for them in a way that the Ames never cared for me.
Sean distracted me from the dark thought with a roguish smile. “Do I get a lollipop then, Dr. Ellers?” He asked, eyes dancing.
His playful mood was undeniably infectious. “Only if you’re a good boy,” I said, mildly surprised to find myself smiling.
His grin widened, more a predatory baring of the teeth now. “That’s not really my style,” he replied, his voice low and rough.
My breath hitched in my throat as I suddenly found myself trapped in his dark, smoky gaze, and I was unable to summon up the will to break the connection. My body was urging me to inch forward, to close the gap between us. I suddenly longed for that delicious electric jolt that I received every time I touched his skin. I wanted that contact, wanted to run my fingers over the contours of his perfectly sculpted muscles…
“Sorry,” I said, trying to hold my ground. But my tone was low and breathy, a voice that I hardly recognized as my own. “I’m fresh out of lollipops anyway.”
“Tease,” he accused huskily. He reached out for me, and I didn’t flinch away. His fingers traced my jawline, leaving a burning trail from my ear down to my chin. He gripped it firmly between his thumb and forefinger. I shivered, enthralled by the way his touch made my skin come alive, relishing the way that he held me in place for him as he slowly moved in to take me, his full lips twisted upward at the corners, his eyes burning into mine.
No! The rational part of my mind screamed at me.
But my body was ordering me otherwise. Heat pooled in my belly, and there was an unfamiliar tingling between my legs.
God damn it, Claudia! Stop being an idiot! Are you so desperate for your freedom that you’re willing to whore yourself out for it?
That thought was enough to snap me out it. What the fuck was I thinking?
“Don’t,” I said softly, my voice slightly pleading. I wanted to get away from him, but I couldn’t seem to bring myself to pull away. I needed him to release me from whatever spell he had me under.
He paused, his lips inches from mine. “Claudia.” I could feel his hot breath on my face as his voice caressed my name, and I almost broke.
“Please,” I forced out, desperate.
His eyes clouded over for a moment, and then he blinked hard. His lazy, cocky expression instantly slid back into place as he pulled away from me, relinquishing me from his touch. I let out the breath that I didn’t realize I was holding, awash with
relief.
But also disappointment. I bit my lip hard. My emotions were a roiling, tangled mess. I forced them back, straining to match Sean’s nonchalance.
“I may not have any lollipops,” I continued on smoothly as though our conversation hadn’t been interrupted, “but I can cook dinner for you to make up for it.”
A plan was forming in my mind. It seemed I might get out of here sooner than I had hoped. And then I could get away from Sean, escape from the invisible chains that he seemed to be using to bind me to him. Yes, I was getting out of here tonight. I had to.
I smiled slyly to myself as I pulled on one of the dresses from the bag of clothes after my shower. It was a bit low-cut for my taste, but my chest is fairly small – barely a B cup – so I told myself it wasn’t too slutty. I briefly wished for my slacks again, but quickly pushed them from my mind. That wouldn’t matter in a few hours; I would be back at my house with my own wardrobe.
I used my bobby-pins to pull my hair half-back, using a few more than was strictly necessary. I would need them later. Then I opened the medicine cabinet, pleased to find that the boys had a large bottle of Benadryl tucked in next to their shaving cream. I counted out ten pills and then paused. Where the hell was I going to conceal these? Looking down at my light cleavage, I sighed. There was nothing else for it: I tucked the pills into my bra, distributing them carefully so that I didn’t look too lumpy.
Looking in the mirror, I practiced a sweet, innocent smile. After a moment, I deemed myself prepared, and I squared my shoulders as I left the bathroom, ready to execute my plan.
Okay, so maybe I’m not the best cook in the world, I admitted to myself as I headed for the kitchen, Bradley silently in tow. It wasn’t like I ever took the time to cook for myself, but I was sure that I could handle pasta. And I knew that I could make a mean chocolate cake, a leftover skill from a high school Home Ec class that I was counting on.
When I got to the kitchen, I turned to Bradley. “Did you get everything on the list?” I asked, trying not to sound too bossy.