The beautiful man puts his hands up in surrender as he moves slowly to the bedside. I should be scared to death considering I feel like someone beat the shit out of me, but something in his eyes tells me I’m safe; which is crazy! I don’t know this man or even who I am for that matter. Although, someone took care to bandage me up, so I assume it was this man. Please don’t let him turn out to be my abuser with a guilty conscience.
He slowly leans down to reach the bedside table and picks up a glass of water. Tucking his hand under my head, he lifts slightly to put the glass to my lips, all while his eyes search mine as if waiting for me to panic. I sip slowly; holding back a wince at the pain swallowing caused, but feeling like I’ve just crawled out of the Sahara Desert, keeps me drinking what I can. He moves the glass away, but trying to tell him thank you proves impossible. He shakes his head.
“Sshhhh, not yet.”
Something in his face warns me not to argue. Although he seems angry, it doesn’t feel as though it’s directed at me. He leaves for just a minute and comes back with a spoon with white powder on it. I hope it’s aspirin, but why would he spoon-feed me enough cocaine to kill me after he’d wrapped me up? He mixes a little water with it and leans down to place it on my tongue. Drinking down the powder only hurts a little and tastes horrible, but I can’t imagine the pain of swallowing a hard round pill at this point. I lie back into the softest pillows and close my eyes again. Just that small movement has already exhausted me. Who knew drinking water could take so much out of a person? Movement on the bed jostles my body and I quickly open my eyes to see him lying down on the other side. OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod! What does he want with me?
“I’m only laying on top and promise to keep my hands to myself. I just want to be close in case you need me. Your ribs are badly bruised, and I’m not so sure they aren’t broken. I just need to hear you breathe and know you are safe, okay?”
Relaxing a little, my eyes close again to let sleep claim me once more.
~Derek~
She is fast asleep again, so I head back outside. Fresh air and two beers do not clear my mind. I can’t stop thinking of her so small and damaged in my bed. Now I can’t stop thinking of her sliding her hands across her body up to her breasts. My head screams, “she’s just assessing the damage,” my hormones scream, “Do you want help with that?” It has been too long since I’ve enjoyed the company of a woman and it shows. Maybe she didn’t see my tongue hanging out of my mouth while I imagined it following the path of her hands. Her face burned hot with embarrassment making me feel bad to have put her in that position, but I can’t help the excitement of seeing the shy innocence reflected in her eyes.
When I touched her neck to help her get a drink and give her some Advil pm to help her sleep, it sent little shock waves up my arm with that simple touch. As she laid her head back again, I noticed the bruising around her throat. What has happened to this beautiful woman, who would hurt her this way? It looks as if someone tried to strangle my woman and when I find them, heads will roll.
My woman? What in the hell am I thinking? “No wife no kids,” is my motto; that way no one can take them from you. The loss would be too great.
After an hour, I make my way back inside, and I climb on top of the bed to be near her. My hormones, once again, go in a different direction than just being her caretaker. I have never kept a woman for longer than a few days except I can’t picture being without this one. What will happen two months from now, or even years, concerning this woman? My mind wanders to her laughing green eyes staring up at me from the porch swing while rubbing her growing belly and I know I’m a goner. I don’t know what it is about this one, small, fragile woman, but from the moment I touched her, I felt an unbreakable connection.
I keep her on a steady supply of Advil pm, chicken broth, Jell-O, and water, for six days and hope that resting will help her heal faster. I need to find out who she is, what happened to her, and where she’s from.
After this week of playing doctor and not in the way I’d like, all of her bruises are fading, leaving a few cuts and scrapes; only a few will scar. She moves more in her sleep now with moans and mumbles reflecting arousal instead of pain. Who is she thinking of as she sighs in her sleep? It has taken several cold showers not to take advantage of her vulnerability. I don’t even know her name, but in my head, I call her “Mine.”
This is not how I planned my long weekend to turn out, but I’m not complaining. It’s a good thing that I’m self-employed and can take as much time away as needed. I called Shana on Monday to inform her of the longer break, however, at the time I didn’t know how long I’d be gone and promised to keep in touch. She says she doesn’t mind the small reprieve. She’s enjoying a good book and will not mind finishing it before she has to go back into the office on Wednesday.
~Unknown~
Standing on my white sandy beach, breathing in the ocean air, the sand squishes in my toes, and the gentle waves lap at my ankles. I call this place mine because no one else ever comes here. Turning my face up to the sun, I feel the warm caresses all over my body. Then I feel the caress of my blue-eyed lover sliding up and down my skin. Needing more but not knowing what or how to ask for it, has me moaning, hoping it encourages him to take it further. I feel fire everywhere he touches, licking every inch of skin. In my favorite yellow bikini, it leaves very little skin untouched by the sun’s warmth and his hands. He leans in and trails a hot wet tongue from my ear to my neck then sinks his teeth in at the base. I moan, hoping it encourages him to keep going as chills race up and down my spine, causing me to go weak. My hunger for him overwhelms me; my body seeks more of his touch. Turning to get closer, my dream lover turns into a tattooed predator, and I scream as darkness takes over my fantasy.
“Hey, it’s ok. It was just a dream.”
My eyes fly open to see my dream lover leaning over me. His calloused hands slowly move up and down my arms leaving streaks of fire in their wake. Taking several deep breaths to calm my heart before it explodes out of my chest, I start to cry uncontrollably. Was it a dream or a memory trying to break free? Not knowing is what scares me. My beautiful man slowly picks me up and pulls me into his lap calming my sobs. He tucks me against his chest and lays his chin on top of my head.
“Sshhh, it’s ok, I’ve got you, Baby. No one can hurt you here.”
Somehow his voice encourages me to lean back, look into those electric blue eyes and whisper, “I don’t know your name.”
~Derek~
I’ve lessened the dosage of sleep aide, hoping to get her more coherent. In order to help her, I need to get some information. Her tears are killing me. She has to be terrified awaking to a stranger.
“Derek Mason. I found you about a quarter mile from my home, unconscious and about to become critter food. We’re about 20 miles from the closest town, so I have no idea how you ended up on my road. What’s your name?”
The look she gives me is like a deer caught in the headlights. Feeling her heart rate pick up and vibrate through her whole body brings me more guilt. “Sshhh, it’s ok, I’m not going to hurt you. I’ve been watching over you for six nights now, so you’re safe with me.”
She relaxes a little and settles back into my body pressing her lush bottom into my erection. Not safe from me, the little voice in my head whispers. It’s obvious this woman is running scared. I need to tamp down my desire for her before she is running scared from me.
Chapter Three
Revelation:
*a surprising and previously unknown fact that has been disclosed to others. *used to emphasize the remarkable quality of someone or something. *the making known of something that was previously secret or unknown.
~Unknown~
Derek. My dream lovers name is Derek, except he is no longer just a dream and he definitely is not my lover, although his body says he wants otherwi
se. He found me six days ago. Six days? What the hell happened to me six days ago that I don’t even remember my own name?
He calls me Baby, and I like it. He makes me feel safe, and I like that too. I haven’t felt safe in so long that it feels good to stop being afraid. Wait! Is that just a paranoid feeling from being dumped in the woods, broken and bloody as Derek says, or a memory of my past? As I struggle to sit up taller from this cradled position against his very firm chest, he helps me to rise. I feel awkward and vulnerable about sitting on his lap, and I want to move, but I can see in the sharp angle of his mouth that he will not let me go. I calm myself enough to ask questions.
“Can you tell me where I am?” My voice comes out in a scratchy whisper from non-use in I guess six days, but he hears me. He pulls his head back to look down into my eyes and his soften. An urge to press my lips to his full soft ones overwhelms me, so I quickly cast my eyes down. Hopefully, hiding thoughts that are probably written all over my face. When he places a calloused finger under my chin to lift my face to his, a shiver races through my body. His smile hints that something is funny, but only he is privileged to the joke. However, none of this is funny to me. Starting to pull away as I am getting angrier by the second, he senses my irritation and begins to tell me of my crazy story.
“You are at my home in Connecticut. I own two hundred fifty acres in the mountains, and no one is going to find you here.”
Oh my God! No one can find me here. My heart starts to race realizing that this man could be my predator and I am his prey. He probably gets off on beating women nearly to death, nursing them back to health only to start over again. He probably makes his victims feel indebted to him and then punishes them for the smallest infraction, just to start the process all over again. Panic rushes in, and my hands start to claw at his face and arms in desperation to get away. As I run my nails down the side of his face, he cusses out a string of swear words including a few that I’ve never heard before. With no effort at all, he flips me over onto the bed face down and pins my arms underneath me. Desperately I kick out, hoping to catch him in the balls, but he presses his body over the top of mine and pins my legs with his. His weight is heavy, and suffocation becomes a real possibility. As I take in gasping breaths to get enough air, he shifts slightly to take off some of his weight; still not leaving me room to move. He is definitely still aroused; now I’m sure he gets off on causing pain. He is probably going to rape and kill me; no one will ever find my body, just like he said. I am in full hyperventilation mode now, and my vision is going blurry. He keeps mumbling things I don’t understand, probably trying to get my cooperation. Then I feel nothing.
~Derek~
“Baby, sshhh, calm down.” What the hell! She has gone completely still underneath me. Moving carefully, I roll off of her to give her some room. What the hell just happened? She went from nightmare to confused to aroused and submissive to panic and passed out in all of two minutes. Someone obviously did a number on this girl, and she doesn’t know which way is up or who to trust. I gently turn her over to check her breathing. Her heart rate is slowing, and it probably won’t be long before she comes around again.
Climbing off the bed, I step into the bathroom to check my face. Sure enough, three little scratches from my temple to cheekbone. Damn, she’s a little fighter. Hopefully, she got in a few scratches to the asshole that beat the hell out of her. I move into the bedroom and cross to my closet to pull out four silk ropes. Tying her to the bed seems to be the best option to keep her from fighting or running and finding herself in more danger.
Moving her to the center of the bed and trying not to watch her breasts jiggle, I close my eyes to get myself under control. I am a class “A” bastard! All I can think of is getting her underneath me, putting my mouth all over her delectable body and savoring her for hours. Her vanilla scent permeates through my soap within an hour of bathing her daily, and I find myself addicted to her smell. I secure her wrists to the headboard and her feet to the footboard, so she is an X in the center of my bed. This doesn’t help my imagination any. Holy shit! What is wrong with me? I have never reacted to a woman this way before, but I feel a connection to her that is undeniable. She is mine! I don’t know why or how, just that she is mine!
I snap out of my daydream, only to see her watching me with tears rolling down her temple into her hair, but she says nothing. She just caught me staring at her on full display with my shirt covering none of her lower half and drool probably running down my chin. Shit! No wonder she panicked. First, I can’t control my own appendage that she definitely had to feel; now she catches me staring at her body. I pull the blankets over her to give her some sense of privacy and hold up my hands in a gesture of surrender but not before I catch her scent of vanilla. She looks up towards her hands and then back at me as if to say, “you perverted bastard.”
~Unknown~
I open my eyes to see my dream lover/serial killer hovering over my half naked body. How can such a beautiful man be a crazed lunatic? Glancing up, he sees me watching him and blushes; since when do rapists blush? The expression on his face as he was looking at me was that of a man starved, not one intent on causing me harm. Warmth spreads from my face to my belly and forms a knot in my stomach. Anticipation settles in my core and my body clenches. Why is my body trying to betray me? Am I trying to give off the wrong signal? How can I want this man to take what no other man has had or touched? Maybe I’m the crazy one. I did have a gash on my head, so maybe I’m suffering from delusions as well as amnesia. Then he does the unexpected; he covers my body with the blanket.
“Look, I’m not going to leave you like this; I just wanted to talk without having to hold you down and suffocate you with my weight. Like I said, my name is Derek, and this is my cabin in Connecticut. You seem to be running or scared shitless of someone, and I want you to know that you are safe. If there is a person or people that you are running from, they will not find you here. I found you a week ago on my dirt road, beaten, bloody, and frozen half to death. I brought you here to care for you, not to hurt you. Do you understand?”
I nod so he continues.
“Many times over the last week I have thought about taking you to a hospital or contacting the police, however, my gut instinct convinced me not to. I know that sounds crazy, it does to me too, but finding you on my road in the condition you were in is suspicious. I don’t know how you got there or if the person or people who did this to you might still be out there looking for you. Not wanting to take any chances with your safety, I felt it was best to help you heal so when you awoke, you could tell me more about your situation. I am a Private Investigator, and I have a friend in the FBI that I will call to see if he can help.”
What he’s saying takes a moment to register. I sigh in relief and try to speak except it comes out crackly. He leans over me to the nightstand to grab some water and his rock hard abs brush against my belly and breasts, starting the warm rush all over again. My body betrays me as my nipples pebble under his shirt, so when he leans back to help me drink, a small smile crosses his lips and lights his eyes.
“ I’m sorry, I don’t know my name. I have no idea if I’m running from someone. I have no recollection of what happened to me or how I ended up on your dirt road. I keep having small flashes of memory, but they don’t give me enough information. I am scared shitless and out of my element being tied to your bed.”
He stares at me as if I am speaking a foreign language and then moves to untie my legs. As he pulls down the covers to get to the rope binding me, he gets another full on view, and I feel my face go hot. He caresses his hand down my leg and loosens the soft rope to slide my foot out, although he doesn’t let it go. He wraps both hands around my ankle and massages it as if to soothe any aches. I watch as he reaches for my other foot and releases it, repeating the same ritual and then does the same with my wri
sts. I feel a warm rush between my legs and know he can see it too. His eyes zero in on my almost bare privates, and I feel my face turning beet red. Will he think I am a freak with not much hair? I hated body hair and had laser hair removal when I was eighteen. It seemed at that time most kids my age were running out to get tattoos. I was more interested in removing unwanted things from my body than putting permanent ink on it. My eyes widen with that little bit of memory.
It is not disappointment I see when he looks into my eyes; it’s lust. He wants me and doesn’t care that I caught him looking. I have no experience with this sort of thing; sure I flirted with guys, but had never gone beyond kissing and a little rubbing; another little flash of memory. Yes, I am curious. However, the right guy had never come along. For some crazy reason, I feel like this savior of mine could be that guy; which is crazy! How can my thoughts go from a serial rapist and murderer to wanting him to take my virginity? Something is definitely not right in my head. I don’t know him other than his name and that he lives in Connecticut; also that he has cared for and nursed me back to health. That knowledge does something to me and warms me like no one ever has. I can’t decide what to think of this savior of mine. Is he good or bad?