Stray

by Suzanne Steele

  “It isn’t that. It’s a matter of me not wanting to deal with my overbearing father yet.” She made her way to the door to answer it and Striker concentrated on the conversation, listening in on them from the kitchen.

  “Victor, what are you doing here?”

  “Can’t a guy check on his fiancée without getting the third degree?”

  “I’m not your fiancée.” She stopped him when he tried to push the door open. He placed his high dollar designer shoe in the doorway stopping her.

  “Is somebody here? Have you got a guy in here?”

  He pushed past her and made his way into her kitchen. He wasted no time starting in on her. “Are you slumming now, bringing a fucking street urchin home? Are you fucking him? Is that the guy who stalks you outside of your office every day?”

  “It isn’t any of your business if I am fucking him.”

  “You fucking slut!”

  She never saw Striker come up out of the chair until he had Victor by the throat, holding him up off the floor so high that his feet were dangling. Her thoughts of worrying about his injured ribs were interrupted by her guest’s growl. “Now that’s no way to talk to a lady. Apologize, you fucking dirt bag in a suit!”

  Victor could barely breathe out an I’m sorry due to the grasp Striker had around his neck.

  “Just get out. Get the fuck out,” Striker’s deep baritone voice calmly demanded.

  Victor’s expression was more of a leer as he spoke, “This isn’t over. Your father will be hearing about this.” Though he couldn’t look at Claire, his threat was clearly directed towards her.

  “I don’t give a shit. Get out,” she hissed.

  Striker saved her the trouble of calling the cops when he all but tossed Victor through the front door and out onto the sidewalk. Claire quickly locked the door and turned to see her newfound hero was right in her face.

  “I want you to be able to say yes.”

  She knew exactly what he was referring to so she grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him towards her. He wanted her to be able to say that yes, she was fucking him…

  Striker

  That’s all the consent he needed. He ripped off her shirt and buttons flew, hitting the walls and floor and making an angry sound on contact. Her nipples, that had been teasing him since the moment he came in and saw her standing at the stove, were peaked and begging to be sucked. He obliged.

  He pinned her arms above her head and locked her wrists with one of his large hands, immobilizing her. “I’m not what you’re accustomed to when it comes to sex. If you move your hands from above your head or touch me without my permission again, I’m going to punish you.”

  He watched as she bit her bottom lip and nodded her head, signifying that she understood. He used his free hand to unbutton the top of her jeans and the zipper going down was music to his ears. He flattened his hand to slide it down into her panties and thrust a finger into her soaked opening.

  “Feels like somebody has a penchant for rough sex. You better not move those fucking hands, girl.” He bent over to pull her jeans and panties down and commanded her to kick them off. He smacked at her ankle and she spread her legs, reading what he wanted without him saying another word.

  His fingers spread her open and his tongue swirled around her pink pussy lips. His eyes looked up at her and she attempted closing hers to avoid his gaze. Just a shake of his head let her know that she better not close them again. He continued to watch her as his lips locked onto the sweet nub of nerves and he sucked. With two fingers deep in her depths while his mouth worshipped her clit, it didn’t take long before she was screaming out his name, begging him for release.

  He rose up and pointed his finger in her face, “You are fucking me!”

  He tore out of his jeans and stroked his cock. He gave her a look that practically dared her to take her eyes off of him. He crooked his finger in her direction, expecting her to follow him into the bedroom. She obediently walked behind him as he led her up the steps. He tossed her down on the bed and wasted no time lining his cock up with her opening and thrusting into her.

  He stopped suddenly and took the time to hold her head at both sides and stare into her face.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

  He listened to her groans as he pushed in and out of her wet opening.

  “So fucking tight, girl. You feel like home, like I’m coming back to the place I belong. Oh, I needed this. I need you.”

  He ground up and into her as hard as he could and right at the point of coming he pulled out, spraying his seed all over her body. He fisted a handful of her hair and growled in her face, “Rub it in.”

  He watched as her hands slathered his seed into her porcelain white skin. “You’re marked now. You belong to me and if I find you anywhere near that pansy motherfucker I just kicked out, neither of you will be safe…”

  Claire

  “Wow, what the fuck just happened?”

  “I think we both know what happened. The sexual tension we’ve been feeling was finally acted upon. I hope you’re not fucking the man who came to your door. I’d hate to have to hospitalize the pompous jerk. The only time a woman should be referred to as a slut is never, unless it’s her kink.”

  She ran a finger over the ace bandage covering his ribs. “What’s your kink?”

  His eyes cut through her and looked at her with a seriousness that assured her he meant what he was about to say. “I enjoy taking a woman. I enjoy breaking her down so that I can build her back up into what I create sexually, and I enjoy possessing every fiber of her being. I don’t fuck around and I expect the same respect in return. Oh yeah, one other thing… I enjoy whispering dirty, vile things in my woman’s ear while I threaten her with all the things I’m going to subject her to.”

  Claire changed the subject and turned the conversation towards something that wasn’t quite so intense. “The guy who was at the door is the man my father is trying to force me into marrying, Victor. I have never slept with him and I have no intention of doing so. I haven’t had sex with any man for over a year now.” Claire was almost positive that as she lied there and talked with Striker that the very man they were discussing was across town, filling her father’s head full of enough ammunition to write his sermons for a lifetime. Logically, she knew that, at some point, her father was going to find out that Striker was living with her but now it looked like it was going to be sooner rather than later. To say that he wouldn’t be happy was an understatement.

  Chapter Nine

  Claire

  “Listen, Striker, I have got to go into the office today. Don’t answer the door. Believe me when I tell you that the last thing you want to do is have a run in with my father. You couldn’t have gotten mixed up in a more difficult situation. My father has connections that go all the way up into the Senate. He’s a very influential man with a lot of powerful contacts.”

  “I’m not afraid of your father.”

  She turned around from the make-up table she was seated at so that she could face him. “Maybe you should be. He can cause a lot of problems and I’m going to have to deal with him today.”

  Striker made his way over and stooped down to her level, taking her chin in his hand and forcing her to look him in the eye. “He’s just looking out for his little girl. In his mind, you brought home a homeless man, or at least we know that is probably what Victor told him. I’m sure he just wants to make sure you’re safe.”

  “This isn’t about my safety; it’s about his precious image. That’s the only reason he wants me to marry Victor. He wants to ensure I marry into money and prestige. Me bringing home a homeless man, as you stated, is his worst nightmare. I don’t need a man to take care of me though, and I refuse to marry for superficial reasons.”

  “Ah, so you’re in it for love, huh?”

  “I’m not in it at all.”

  “So what was last night, Claire?”

  “I don’t know and I’m in no hurry to find out. On
another note, we’re going to have to get you a car. I’ll have lunch with my father and then we’ll go car shopping.”

  “Claire, I don’t need you spending all your money on me.”

  “You couldn’t spend all of my money if you tried. Don’t worry; I’m going to take it out of your hide.”

  He grabbed her chin once again and glared into her face. “No sweetie, I’m going to take it out of your hide. What you got last night was child’s play. As soon as these ribs of mine are healed, I’m going to tie your ass down, fuck you until you beg me to let you come, and then I’m going to tell you no. If you disobey me, I’m going to take that thick, leather belt you bought me and use it to spank that fine, little ass of yours.” His finger lightly stroked over her jaw as he continued to speak. “You’re breathing hard, princess. Does the thought of me fucking you senseless after I hurt you turn you on? Answer. Me. Claire.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Liar!”

  Claire saw the opportunity to escape his grasp and took it. The last thing she heard as she exited her home was his sinister laugh in the background. She had never been into being dominated before, had never even really thought about it. The moistness between her legs did make her wonder if this man she knew so little about was on to something though.

  She made her way to her car and got situated. The last thing she saw before pulling out of her driveway was her guest standing in the window mouthing the words be good. The look on face clearly sent the message that he was dead serious about the mandate.

  Chapter Ten

  Claire

  Claire forced herself to concentrate on work and not the lunch she anticipated her father would be calling her about. No sooner did the thought go through her head than her secretary’s voice could be heard through the desk phone intercom.

  “Your father is on line one.”

  She took a deep breath before picking up the phone. Getting this issue out of the way was much better than avoiding it and worrying about her father showing up on her doorstep and getting into it with her Striker personally.

  “Father, I’m not going to argue about this.”

  “You haven’t even given me the opportunity to say anything.”

  “Well, I’m certain Victor filled you in on his side of the story. Did he leave out the part where he called me a slut?”

  “Yes, he did. Had I known that, I would have addressed it. What he did tell me is that you have a homeless man living with you.”

  “Striker isn’t homeless.”

  “So Victor lied?”

  “Victor made assumptions and we both know what they say about that.”

  “Don’t be tacky, Claire.”

  “Regardless, Striker is here to stay. If you and mother want to accept that fact, then we can continue being one big happy family.” Her words were laced with sarcasm due to the fact that their happiness was always contingent on her father’s need for control being sated. “If not, well, I’ll just give you time to get used to the idea and the two of you can adjust by staying away from us.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, dear. We’ll continue on as we always have. I would prefer you didn’t announce to our circle of friends that you’ve brought a stray home.”

  “He isn’t a stray; he’s an assistant. Something you might want to take under consideration is the fact that I’ll be safer when I go out to show property. You really shouldn’t worry about me being the one to let the proverbial cat, or stray in this case, out of the bag. If I were you, I would be doing damage control with Victor, not your daughter who loves you. While you’re at it, you might want to question why he is still willing to marry a woman he refers to as a slut.”

  “You let me deal with Victor. He definitely owes me some explanations… and Claire, please stop saying that word. It’s very vulgar.”

  “Was it vulgar when your golden boy said it?”

  “Absolutely, and I can assure you, as I already have, that I will be dealing with Victor. He has definitely crossed the line by referring to my daughter in such a crude manner. I’ve already told him not to mention the rest of this to anyone.”

  Claire couldn’t say she was surprised that he’d told Victor not to mention Striker to anyone. He was always looking out for his precious image.

  “Goodbye, Father. I love you.”

  “I love you too.” Her father wasted no time getting off the phone just like she knew he would when she mentioned the issue of damage control. To her father, everything was a business deal and that included his family. She, of all people, knew that the rich and elite were more inclined to operate in business mode rather than the emotional realm. Years of being around high society had taught her what to say to get the results she required.

  Her father had taught her well. After all, when it came to matters of the heart or business, control was a necessary evil to maintain the thing she loved most—her independence. She knew exactly what she was doing. It was a lesson she learned very early in life. She had played the victim and it had worked. Normally she might feel bad about stooping to her father’s level, but this was a case of drastic times calling for drastic measures. She would never be able to live with herself if she sent Striker back to his apartment and something bad happened to him. She might be a woman who had been sheltered, but she was no one’s fool when it came to matters of money. She was certain that whoever employed Striker to fight wouldn’t be happy when he broke the news he was quitting.

  Suddenly, a thought hit her and she typed in Underground MMA fighting into her computer. She was shocked when she was able to find videos on a popular site. In just a matter of moments, she was able to find a profile on Striker. Seeing how well he fought would tell her very quickly just how much danger he was in. If he was a lucrative asset, the men he worked for would have a harder time letting him go. She turned the volume down and looked at her office door to make certain no one was around before she clicked on the link.

  She knew it would be hard to watch but nothing could have prepared her for what she witnessed. The man she watched in the ring, putting the beat down on his challenger, was not the same man she had gotten to know in her home. No wonder she had sensed an element of danger in him.

  She cringed as she noted how much he seemed to enjoy what he was doing to his opponent. The look of ruthless sadism on his face was unmistakable. This was a man who took pleasure in hurting people. The wave of fear that washed over her melded with the feelings she had that Striker was taboo and caused her to feel something she was unfamiliar with—anticipation.

  Normally, with any man she dated, things were stable almost to the point of being boring. That wasn’t the case with Striker. With him, she never knew what to expect and for some reason she couldn’t figure out, she liked it. She clicked off of the site and went back to work. She wasn’t used to anyone invading her thoughts the way he did and the business side of her wasn’t going to allow any man to get in the way of her career. She did wonder if he was okay at home alone and she definitely wondered what he was doing.

  Striker

  Striker pushed the woman, who seemed to plague his every thought now, out of his mind. Always, in one way or another, she remained in his thoughts. Whether he liked it or not, she had gotten in his head. Whether it’s thoughts of how to get even, how to avenge the death of his father who had been wrongfully accused, or warding off the guilt he felt for the horrible atrocities he had planned for her, she was always there.

  He hadn’t counted on feeling anything but hatred for her. Empathy wasn’t an emotion he was capable of feeling when he beat men within an inch of their lives so he didn’t understand why he was feeling it now.

  She made him feel and he didn’t like the things she was bringing to the surface. Revenge, hate, and even jealousy were things he could deal with but empathy? He had never counted on that emotion entering the equation.

  “Fuck!” he hissed, running his hands through his hair. He hated the fact that she was away from him right now. Thoug
hts of that wimpy bastard, Victor, trying to get back in her good graces, pissed him off. He made his way into his bathroom to start the bath water and stripped down, eyeing his bruised body in the large mirror. The yellowing around his ribs let him know he was healing well.

  He strode out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, opening the pill bottle and popping two pain pills into his mouth. If he soaked today and took a few pain pills tomorrow, maybe he could go to work with her.

  This shit of letting her out of his sight wasn’t sitting well with him. He needed to watch her, or that’s what he told himself anyway. He made his way back to the tub, eased down into the water that was as hot as he could bear, and let his mind wander back to the day before. Her soft body had felt like it was made to be crushed under his hard muscle mass. That tight, little pussy of hers had felt like a furnace, gripping his cock and milking it dry.

  He looked down at his cock that had hardened at just the thought of her and resisted the urge to pump her memory from it. Just thinking about her had caused it to jump to life. He’d soak and get ready for her arrival to go shop for a car. As badly as he hated the fact that she was spending money on him, he knew it wasn’t uncommon for employers to provide transportation for their assistants. It would also give him more control to put his plans for revenge in motion. Damn her. She was affecting him and though he didn’t like it one bit, there was no sense in not enjoying the benefits of her body while he exacted revenge. This wasn’t the way things were supposed to go.

  Being bombarded with constant visions of bending her ass over the kitchen island and fucking her senseless weren’t part of his plan for revenge. Any other time he had been able to fuck a woman and forget her. Claire wasn’t like women who had frequented his MMA fights. The girls he fucked wore too much make-up and were always overdone as far as their wardrobe, or lack thereof. They came to the ring with the sole intent of picking up fighters and getting fucked.