Stray
Page 2
She led him up a partially spiraled staircase and into a massive bedroom that appeared to be decorated with those of a more masculine persuasion in mind. A huge, cherry wood, four-poster bed didn’t even begin to take up the large space of the room.
“The first thing we’re going to do is get you cleaned up and bandaged. I need to see just how bad of shape you’re in.”
She gently reached over to remove his hood and he heard her sharp intake of breath as she got a full view of just how busted up his face was.
“My goodness… what in the world happened to you?”
He was shocked when she unzipped the hoodie he was wearing and removed it, revealing his chest as if it was no big deal. He winced in pain when she gently touched the large bruised area over his ribs.
“Now isn’t the time to be shy. You’re going to have to undress and make your way into the Jacuzzi tub to soak. I’m going to go in there and run you a bath and then I’ll give you your privacy. I have jogging pants and sweatshirts here that will work for you to wear until we can get you some real clothes.” She turned and looked at him as she made her way to the bathroom. “Can you manage by yourself? Like I said, now isn’t the time to be shy. It’s either this or the hospital.”
He nodded his head, letting her know he could handle it. The hospital was out of the question. They would ask him too many questions about things he wasn’t willing to divulge. She helped him into the bathroom and for the first time in a very long time, he felt accepted rather than loathed.
He removed the jeans he was wearing and carefully made his way into the tub full of hot water and Epsom salt. This was the first time he had felt safe in a very long time…
Claire
Claire gathered her wits about herself as she shook off visions of the hard body she had just viewed beneath that hoodie. How in the hell could a homeless man be that fucking buff? The man was gorgeous and the bruises only seemed to add to the badass persona the man already had.
She pushed away thoughts of being pinned down beneath that mass of muscle who was now lounging in her tub out of her head. She hadn’t had sex in well over a year and the guy had her lady bits in a stir.
She opened her master bathroom medicine cabinet and grabbed a bottle of prescription pain pills to get a couple out. She grabbed a large ace bandage and a heating pad to put in his room before she made her way down to the kitchen to make a tray of food for him. She was saddened by the thought that she didn’t even know how long it had been since the man had eaten. She opted for chicken soup, orange juice, and a Jell-O cup. She would rather feed him on the light side than take a chance on his stomach being able to handle a heavy meal.
She grabbed the tray and took a deep breath to prepare herself for the gorgeous specimen of a man in her guest bedroom. A twinge of guilt went through her as she thought about the fact that she found him attractive, very attractive. He was here to get nursed back to health, nothing more.
She made her way into the bedroom and found him dressed in the jogging pants she’d left out for him. His sandy blonde, tousled hair and stark baby blues were much more prominent when not disguised by a hoodie. She found her eyes wandering down to the V in his lower abdomen. It was much too hard to not check him out.
She set the tray down on a small table that sat in the corner of the room with two chairs.
“Sit on the bed and let’s see how badly those ribs are bruised.”
He winced as he sat and she found herself hoping his ribs weren’t broken. She grabbed the ace bandage and tried to begin the process of wrapping his ribs. He shocked her when he firmly grabbed her hand, locking it in his strong grip.
“I’m not in the habit of letting a woman touch me without my permission.”
“Well, I’m not in the habit of bringing homeless men back to my house either, but I would say these circumstances aren’t the norm and we are both going to need a level of trust and understanding in order to cohabitate.”
His vibrant blue eyes had become so intense and so full of emotion that they had a transparent silver hue. The potency of not only his gaze, but also the silent statement he was conveying, was making it very hard for her to maintain eye contact.
“Well?” He raised a sardonic brow, questioning her. For the sake of avoiding an argument, she responded, “May I touch you? You need those ribs wrapped.” He didn’t answer. He just released her hand in acquiescence. This was a very intense man she was dealing with. It had to be a group of people who had beat him up because she certainly couldn’t imagine a man who was this physically fit not being able to win a fight against just one opponent.
Her fingers grazed his skin as she wrapped the ace bandage tightly around his ribs. What felt like tiny little electrical currents surged through the tips of her fingers whenever she made contact with his battered body. When she finished the process to her satisfaction, she got up and propped pillows at the head of the bed. He instinctively got up and made his way over, leaning his body back against them and eyeing her.
She tried to ignore his gaze that followed her and watched every one of her movements. She was certain that he had to have enhanced survival instincts from living the street life he had endured. She had so many questions and she was forcing herself to build trust with him before she got too nosey.
She reached over and grabbed the two pain pills and handed them to him with the orange juice to wash them down. She answered the question in his eyes before he had a chance to ask. “They are a mild pain pill with a small amount of codeine in them. You aren’t allergic, are you?”
His only answer was taking them as he studied her face. She took the tray and set it in his lap and she noted that he watched her hands trembling. A faint but sinister smile showed in his expression. One corner of his mouth rose just enough to give his thoughts away and betray his amusement.
“Are you scared?”
“I’m a little nervous,” she admitted, knowing that lying would do her no good.
“And yet you bring a stray home?”
She couldn’t help but chuckle at his assessment of her actions. “Well, it isn’t like I don’t know you. You’ve been showing up on the doorstep of my office building for a year. Why did you keep coming back?” His answer shocked her.
“I have a feeling of peace and safety with you.”
She brought the soup spoon up to his mouth and eyed his full lips as he took what she was offering. She couldn’t ever remember having this kind of chemistry with a man. She pushed the thought from her mind. There couldn’t be a man more unsuited for her to bring home to meet her father than the one she was feeding chicken soup to in her bed. A smile crossed her face and before she could hide it, he questioned its cause.
“What’s so funny, angel of mercy?”
“I’ll keep that thought to myself.”
“I’m not a man who gives up easily. I’ll find out; it’s only a matter of time.”
She didn’t doubt the truth of his words. He struck her as being the type of person who could not only read people, but also decipher the information he discovered.
Striker
Striker studied the woman he had been attracted to for the last year and wondered why he did keep coming back. More than likely it was because thoughts of forcefully pinning her down and taking her have plagued his mind since he first laid eyes on her.
He could feel himself snarling as she used her thumb to wipe a drop of broth from his lip. Everything in him wanted to aggressively grab her hand and suck that dainty, little, manicured thumb of hers until she was moaning for more. She was making his cock hard without even trying and that wasn’t the norm for him. It took a certain kind of woman to pique his interest and this one was intriguing the hell out of him right now. He wanted to take that long ponytail of dark brown hair she had and fist it while he fucked her brains out from behind. Her voice cut through his perverse thoughts.
“Striker, you don’t strike me as the type to be homeless.”
“I never said
I was homeless; you assumed it.”
“Well, Striker, as long as I can trust you, I’m willing to let you stay with me. If things work out and you want a job, I’ll hire you to work around here.”
“As what?”
“My assistant. We’ll just have to see if you’re cut out for the job title. Let’s get you well before we worry about details. How did you get beat up?”
“Underground cage fighting. I was doing fine until they opened the cage and the fight became three to my one.”
“No more cage fighting and no more associating with street people.”
“Though I have no problem with those particular mandates, I’m not in the habit of submitting to a woman. There is nothing submissive about my nature and if you plan on keeping me around, it’s imperative that you understand that.”
“I can assure you that I’m used to working with the most dominant of male figures. Your manhood is safe with me.”
“Good, because I’m dominant in more ways than one, young lady.”
His cock jumped when he noted the tremor in her hand. He was a man who enjoyed control; he was a man who enjoyed taking control. Her tremor was a dead giveaway that he made her nervous and he would use that, and anything else he could, to get what he came here for.
Chapter Five
Claire
She waited until she had Striker settled in and then she left a note to let him know where she was going. She really needed to go shopping for this man that she had brought into her home. For some odd reason, she liked the idea of taking him under her wing. Maybe she was an angel of mercy of sorts. She had never been the type to shop for a man before but there wasn’t anything about him that had set off any internal red flags so she wasn’t going to fight the impulse. She was certain the fact that she had gotten to know him over the last year had something to do with her lack of apprehension.
Claire knew herself well enough to know that there was a large part of her psyche that enjoyed the thought of helping someone that her father would be appalled to know she was associating with. Growing up in a household where nothing shy of perfection was accepted was hard on a girl. The weight of always worrying about image was a burden she no longer wished to bear. When she was growing up, she had no choice but to follow the rules. Now that she was an adult, she had no intention of living under her father’s tyranny. Her father used money to manipulate. It was an attribute common to powerful men that she had noted while conducting business with them. The truth that he who held the purse strings, held the power, was a lesson that she learned early on in life. It was distasteful enough that she had to deal with these men in the corporate world; she had no intentions of subjecting herself to it in her personal life as well. Marrying Victor, like her father wanted, would ensure Claire of two things: a complete loss of independence, and a lifetime of unhappiness. That was never going to happen, not if Claire had any say in the matter.
She parked her car and made her way into the Oxmoor Mall, headed straight for the men’s designer stores. She wasn’t sure how Striker was going to feel about her shopping for him, as independent as he seemed to be, but it couldn’t be avoided. He needed things so she was going to buy them. She couldn’t help but wonder how a man of his caliber had come to be homeless. Then again, perhaps he wasn’t. Claire’s mind was running in circles thinking about it. He never did confirm it one way or the other, only saying that she had assumed he was. Claire decided then and there that she needed to ask some questions as soon as she returned home. Not only was her curiosity getting the best of her, her common sense was as well. She needed to find out more about this man she had welcomed into her home. Though it was risky, she wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if she had left him on the streets in the shape he was in. What was it he had said? Angel of mercy… The thought brought a smile to her face.
Her first stop was at the men’s cologne department. If he was going to be in her house, then he was going to impart a scent that she liked. She decided to go with a clean linen fragrance because she was uncertain what he preferred. She opted for L’eau Serge Lutens because of its simplistic citrus mix with magnolia. She bought all the toiletries of the same name brand that went with it and then made her way to the clothing aisle. He struck her as a more rugged, masculine dresser rather than the suits she was accustomed to being around. She had made certain to check his clothing and shoe sizes before she left her house so that made things a little easier. She grabbed a variety of Calvin Klein briefs, boxers, muscle t-shirts, and V-neck t-shirts because she didn’t know his preferences. Next on the list would be some Timberlands, biker style boots, a belt, and some jeans.
She made her way down to a drugstore in the mall and got the refill for the medicine she was giving him. She also picked up all the small items he would need for toiletries like a toothbrush, a comb, and razors. She went ahead and got him an electric razor as well because, once again, she didn’t know his preference.
Two and half hours later, she was making her way home with a carload full of items for a man she didn’t even really know. She had gone a little overboard but she couldn’t help but want to spoil him after all he had been through. She wasn’t going to waste any time training him for work. She would start the process quickly because it would be the telltale sign of whether or not he was going to transition well into being her assistant. His work ethic would tell her much of what she needed to know about the puzzling man she had residing in her home. If he was lazy, then his ass would be out of her house very quickly. Claire didn’t mind helping people out but she did mind her kindness being mistaken for weakness. She didn’t like users and though Striker didn’t seem like the type, she would test him to make certain.
She was grateful for the year she had taken to get to know him. Ironically enough, he had always taken care with his personal hygiene and she was beginning to reassess her assumption that he was homeless. He had never argued the fact when she brought him coffee or took him to lunch through the drive-thru of a fast food restaurant. Really, he had never been much of a talker at all. Anytime she tried to get a read on him, all she could come up with was that he had a very intense nature, one that was eerily drawing her in even more so now that she had him in her home. Only time would tell her who this man really was.
Striker
He opened his eyes and took a moment to study his surroundings before he moved. He winced as he sat up and ran his hands through his hair. His fucking ribs were hurting so badly that if he didn’t know better, he would mistake them for being broken. Thankfully they were just badly bruised and even if he went to the hospital, they wouldn’t be able to do much more than his gracious hostess had already done. He most definitely wouldn’t put himself in a situation of having to explain how he had gotten the shit kicked out of him by three major players in an underground fighting ring. It was a pretty dirty move by the guy running the fight to unleash that much muscle on him but the bloodthirsty fans sure were entertained by the sadistic move. Everything in Striker wanted out of the life fate had allotted him. If this woman was serious about hiring him, then he planned on doing an excellent job. He wanted out of his fucked up life.
He looked up to see Claire coming in the room and dropping bags. When he tried to get up, she immediately addressed him, “Oh no, you don’t.”
“I need coffee, Claire, and my fucking ribs are killing me.”
She sat down on the bed, opened the pill bottle, and handed him two of the pain pills. Though he had always tried to avoid taking any drugs in the past, he grabbed them and swallowed them down in an effort to just make the pain manageable.
“Take what you need; I got a refill.”
She piled bags on the bed and told him to start going through them while she got him some coffee. Though he wasn’t in the habit of letting women buy him clothes, it was already done and he didn’t have any choice but to accept her gifts.
He went through bag after bag of items she had purchased for him and he was astonished that she went to
all this trouble for him. People just didn’t go out of their way for him like she had and it was very humbling to say the least.
“I’m not who you think I am. I’ll pay you back for what you’re doing for me. I’m not a charity case and I’m not a user. I’m not homeless either. I was staying at the Y in a room and got kicked out after I got in a fight with a guy for stealing from me. I don’t like thieves. After that, I saved some money from fighting and moved into a nicer apartment in downtown Louisville.” He left out the part about choosing the location because it was easier to stalk her.
“I don’t look at you like a charity case or a user and you’re right; you’re not homeless now. I need help and I can’t trust anyone right now.”
He cocked his head and cut his eyes at her. Striker needed to know exactly what he was getting into. She answered before he had a chance to ask.
“It isn’t like that. I’m not in any danger. I am, however, the daughter of a very rich, powerful man who is trying to force me into marriage with a man I don’t love.”
“I thought arranged marriages went out of style hundreds of years ago.”
“Someone needs to inform my father of that.” She changed the subject and he took the hint. “I tried to buy you what I thought fit your style.”
“And what is that?” he was curious to know what her perception of him was. She answered with no hesitation, “Rough and rugged.”
“Rough and rugged, huh?” Striker watched as the blush spread across her cheeks and, right then, he knew that this little girl had no idea just how rough and rugged he could be.
“Yeah, I welcome the change. I’m not very impressed with the suits I’m surrounded by at the present time. It seems like every man in my life wants to control me.”