He stands from the bed, walks to the door and turns around to give me a view of his Oscar-worthy body.
“ I’ll bring you some soup.”
What the hell just happened? He didn’t respond to my memory problem and even acted a little frustrated that I didn’t know anything. Maybe he is pissed that I thought him to be the bad guy but what did he expect when he tells me of his cabin in the woods, revealing that no one will find me here? I’ve seen enough scary movies and know that the ending of a story with that statement in it is never good. Maybe he is mad that I was getting turned on. He shouldn’t have rubbed my ankles and wrists so sensually if he wasn’t aiming for that kind of reaction. I’m sure there are more clinical ways to untie a person that’s tied to your bed. Smiling at that thought, I realize he wants me. It was written all over his face and barely hidden behind his zipper. My body was ready to let him have what he wanted. Dammit! Since when is it okay for your body to act the opposite of your mind? I can’t explain the connection or the desperate need to have him touch me, but it was there. His hands were so warm and gentle, chasing away a deep chill set in my bones. Maybe he is not attracted to me, just the idea of sex. Maybe he has decided I am too damaged or come with too much baggage to bother. I don’t even know my own name for hell sakes, no wonder.
Chapter Four
Starved:
*deprived of something necessary. *feel very hungry.
~Derek~
I had to get out of there before I feasted on her like a starving man. Good hell! I should kick my own ass. Is it not bad enough that she didn’t even know who she was or what had happened to her? She had to catch me devouring her with my eyes and one hell of an imagination. Her arousal hit me like a freight train, and I almost lost control. She is petite, only about 5’5”, which is perfect for my tastes. She has long muscular legs and a tiny waist; her breasts are perfect. She would let me take her, innocent or not, I could see it in her eyes. She probably has some hero worship going on and a lot of vulnerability.
For a week I have touched every inch of that beautiful body. Not in the way I would have liked, but my imagination still touched her in a sensual way. Watching her injuries heal from bruises and cuts to the softest perfection has been torture. I need her to get better but dread my control when she is. How long will it take before she could handle me taking her? My desire has only increased to heights unimaginable; I can’t ever remember a craving so deep. It has been a little while since I’ve enjoyed the company of a woman. However, this one small, vulnerable woman makes me feel like it’s been years. Pent up arousal has given me blue balls for a week, and I don’t know how much longer I can go without claiming what’s mine.
Good hell! I’m not some bastard who is going to take advantage of the situation, but I will have her at some point because she is mine. The timing has to be perfect; I have to bind her to me since I’m not letting her go. Where the hell is this coming from? No wife no kids! That is my motto. I have never wavered until now.
Working my way around the kitchen, looking for the right food, proves difficult. I only picked up a few things from the store, planning to go back again after a few days. I didn’t expect to find a half dead woman at my doorstep, so that has changed all of my plans. I always stock some canned goods except I think ravioli is a little too heavy for now. She hasn’t eaten much due to the drugged sleep coma, but I’ll just give her more broth until I can make it to the store.
While heating the broth, I drink a beer hoping for a calm that I don’t feel. I need to go back into my room with a new resolve of keeping my hands to myself. She is confused and scared shitless; she doesn’t need my raging hormones adding to her own stress.
Stomping my way up the stairs seems the best way to alert her that I’m coming in. My hormones can’t take another peep show. Walking back in with a steaming bowl of chicken broth, I sit down on the side of the bed. She looks at me with big green eyes seeming confused by her arousal; or my reaction, I’m not sure which. My caveman instincts kick in, and I know that I will be keeping her. Having no idea who has done this to her, I am determined to keep and protect her with my life. Now I just need to get my hormones in check, so I don’t have to protect her from myself. After placing the tray across her lap, she proceeds to sip the soup watching me warily.
~Unknown~
I am starving, but my stomach can’t hold very much, so after taking in half the contents of my soup, I motion to him that I am done. As Derek leans over the bed to remove the tray, I place my hand on his wrist and he freezes. His skin is hot to the touch and sends an electric jolt up my arm warming me all over.
“Derek,” his blue eyes stare back at me, begging me for the next words. “I’m sorry for attacking you before, I just panicked. It is very weird for me to not know anything about myself. Not my name or even how I came to be here. Thank you! I don’t know how I will ever repay you for saving my life, but whatever it is you need or want, please let me know.”
Needing a connection to someone, even if it’s only on a physical level, feels like a necessity for me. Feeling lost and alone, no identity, or past I remember, makes me vulnerable and needy. Whatever this man is willing to give, I’ll take.
His eyes flash with understanding right before his lips press into to mine. Molten fire races through my body, and I have no control over my hips as they start to undulate, moving the tray up and down. I moan into the kiss and use my hands to slowly push the tray and blankets toward the end of the bed. Sliding my legs from beneath the covers, I use my foot to move the tray out of reach. Even baring my lower half, the cool air does nothing to sooth the aching heat. Slowly he places his hand on my mid thigh and proceeds to draw circles heating my skin. I reach up and wrap my hands behind his neck pulling him closer. He slides his body down to lie beside me and seconds later he is on top of me. His desire is evident with the press of his hips, and I moan into the kiss. Our hands are roaming and discovering every dip and swell imaginable on each other’s bodies. His weight is warm and comfortable, but in the blink of an eye he is gone, and I’m left cold. He stands up quickly, grabs the tray and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him. Holy shit! What is wrong with him? Better yet, what is wrong with me?
I am broken in more ways than one, and I have just been more intimate with a complete stranger than any man I’ve dated. The worst part is, I can’t wait to do it again.
I roll off of the side of the bed barely managing to stand on shaky legs. I need the bathroom and the privacy; I feel way too exposed and vulnerable. His bathroom is a luxury I didn’t expect. There is a huge shower that could fit six people in one corner while a Jacuzzi tub fills another. The shower has an embedded river rock design in a wave pattern about eye level with clear green, glass block tiles from floor to ceiling. The floor is covered in slightly grooved long gray tile that is warm to the touch, and the counters are black granite with flecks of silver. There’s a sunken bed of loose river rock that follows the walls, giving the room an outdoor spa like feel. This bathroom is so peaceful; I could live in here. After washing my hands, I walk out into a quiet, empty room feeling deserted. Curling up on the bed with rumpled sheets as I remember what just happened here, brings a smile to my lips. Exhaustion wins over euphoria, so I lay down to take a nap only to find myself dreaming of Derek, no longer my serial killer but soon to be lover.
~Derek~
“Dammit!” Stomping my way to the kitchen, I toss the tray into the sink, splashing the leftover soup up the back splash and window. What the hell just happened? How can this woman be so responsive and submissive? I’m positive that she is a virgin. Her movements are unpracticed and shy. I pace to the fridge to grab a beer, back to the sink and look at the mess I’ve made, back to the fridge and toss the beer inside. I need all my wits about me if I’m going to survive the night without doing something stupid. Again, I need to
have my head examined. This young woman has been through some trauma that not even she remembers, and I can’t get my head out from between her legs. “Great, another vision I won’t be able to erase.”
Stomping to the front door and forcing my legs to move me further from this temptation, I slam the door behind me and make the call I’ve been trying to avoid. First, I’m afraid he will knock some sense into me, and I’m not so sure I want to come to my senses. Second, we have a history with women; will he ask to share this one when I’m positive I won’t be willing? His voicemail comes on after three rings, “Hey, Jax, I know it’s been a while, but I need a favor, call me when you get a minute.” Sitting down on the bench, head in hands, I contemplate how I’m going to keep my hands to myself. The problem is, she is a once in a lifetime woman, and I should know because I’ve never found one like her in my lifetime.
I am about to burst from the need to take her and make her mine. I want to take what no other has before and mark her with my scent, so all others will know who she belongs to. I don’t care who she is or where she’s from, all I care about is where she’s going, and that’s nowhere without me.
I stomp around my property checking security, gathering wood, and desperately trying to keep my mind busy. I don’t know how long I’ve been out here avoiding my future, but the sky is streaked with pinks and blues by the time I march inside. I finally realize that whatever is happening between us inevitable. I need to quit wasting time and take action, but when I burst through my door the sight before me stops me dead in my tracks and robs me of speech. Standing by my kitchen sink, she is slightly bent over searching for something underneath−Wearing only my shirt, which normally would hit her upper thighs, giving me a view of all that is mine.
Chapter Five
Awakening:
*coming into existence or awareness. *the beginning or rousing of something. *an act or moment of becoming suddenly aware of something. *make someone aware of something for the first time.
~Unknown~
I sleep like the dead until blue eyes flash in my mind and my body becomes unbearably warm. Strong fingers bring me so much pleasure I think I’ll die without it. Opening my eyes to find myself still alone, I decide to take advantage of a cold shower. Unfortunately, the sensation I feel from the rasp of a washcloth across my body does nothing to cool me off.
I dress again in another of his shirts, this one a button down, baby blue, dress shirt I found hanging in the closet. None of his bottoms will fit without falling off, so I go without them, hoping that the shirt that barely covers my ass will suffice. It’s not like Derek hasn’t seen or touched all of me in the time that I’ve been here.
I flush at the memory of how intimately he has touched me and decide I should find something to keep me busy before I spontaneously combust. Slowly opening the bedroom door, I call out, “Derek,” no answer, so I move slowly to the top of the stairs.
Realizing that this is the first time I have been out of his room, my eyes wander to take in the homey, masculine, cabin in the woods. The staircase curves slightly, descending into a massive great room, and the entire back wall is nothing but floor to ceiling windows. Through the windows, I have a view of a sprawling lawn that disappears into a forest that seems to surround the property. As far as my eyes can see, there are no other rooftops or signs of human life. To the left of the wall of windows is a chef’s dream kitchen. In the living room there is a dark brown leather sofa that faces a fireplace, and above the mantle hangs a flat screen T.V. To the right of the windows is a massive bookcase filled with books and collectibles that look ancient, probably antiques. There is a small table surrounded by two worn leather club chairs in front of the bookcase; broken in just enough that it would seem like a luxury to sit there with a good book and fuzzy throw. Next to the bookcase is a wide, short hallway that appears to lead to a bathroom and another door that probably leads to a bedroom. The dark hardwood floors give the house a warm and cozy feel. It would be amazing to snuggle on the couch being warmed by the fire and watch the snowfall outside
Moving down the stairs to get a better look at the kitchen, I notice a lingering soreness to my thighs and remember the cuts and scrapes all over my body. Though healing nicely, thanks to Derek, some of the muscles ache as if deep bruising has occurred.
A vision flashes through my mind of a cane slicing through the air to connect with the top and back of my thighs over and over again.
“We have to see how much you can take; you’re gonna need some pain tolerance where you’re going.”
Thinking of that malevolent voice sends chills down my spine. So familiar but I still can’t place it. I shake my head to clear it of the horrific images and move into the kitchen.
A stainless steel induction cooktop sits in the center of a large island. Resting above is a mid-century looking rack that dangles pots and pans. Imagining the view of a shirtless Derek working over the hot stove has me getting hot and bothered. I need to focus on something else, so looking around again, I see a large farmhouse sink centered in a granite counter positioned on the back wall just below a window that also looks out into the forest. There are remnants of soup splashed along the wall and up onto the window. Probably thrown in his haste to get away from me.
Bending over to open the cupboard below, I Look for a washcloth to clean up the mess. I hear the door open, and a draft of cool air rushes up between my exposed legs to the heated center of me. Mortified at what I am exposing, I turn around quickly to protect myself from what lurks behind me and lock eyes with a predator. My head spins, and I can feel myself losing balance when strong, calloused hands wrap around my waist to steady me. As my vision clears, it’s definitely a predator I see, but not one I will run from. Heat crawls up my neck to burn my cheeks, matching the scorched feeling between my legs. I cast my eyes down as to not let him see my embarrassment. Instead of lifting my chin to get my attention he lifts me by the waist.
“ Wrap your legs around me. Please, tell me you want this?”
His lips press fully to mine as he devours my mouth. As I gasp, his tongue works its way between my teeth, and I wrap my lips around it and suck gently. He moans into the kiss, and his hands snake around to grip my ass. He pulls on my body, and we become fused tightly together. The heat of his body, even through his clothes, is ramping me up to fever pitch. “Please,” I say, and faster than I can comprehend he is striding to the staircase.
“There is no going back, Baby; after this you are mine.”
His statement heats me from the inside out, increasing my desire to have this man take me for my first time.
The climb to the top of the stairs is sublime torture. Every step bounces me a little on his body in time with the pulsing in my core. I would be horrified if he could feel it against his skin, but I fear that is what has him speeding faster to the bedroom. As he lays me on the bed, his eyes zero in on my body and he groans.
“ I need the words, Baby.”
As I look at him in confusion, he says again.
“Please tell me you want this.”
I nod frantically and then manage to squeak out the words. “Please sir, I want this.” In ten seconds flat we are both naked. I am liquid and warm, and by the time I open my eyes, he has slid me to the center of the bed, and his hips are wedged between my legs. He seems to be waiting to make sure I am ready. I have never wanted anything so much in all my life, so I raise my hips in a welcoming gesture. That seems to be what he is waiting for, and he slides his body down to my entrance.
“Eyes on me.”
He grabs my wrists to hold them above my head with one of his hands and grabs my hip with the other to halt any movement.
“Don’t move, Baby, I’m not going to last, and I want to make this perfect for your first time.”
r /> I don’t move, but wonder how he knew I was a virgin. Maybe he can tell by my inexperienced movements. I sure wasn’t acting like one rubbing all over him, desperate to have him send me over the edge. I think I will die until he has possessed my body and soul. He stops moving and stares into my eyes. He is gauging me to make sure I am still with him, so I nod.
“Breathe,” he whispers seductively.”
I have heard many versions from girlfriends about their first time, and none of those stories compare to this. The heat of this moment is the only thing that has chased away the chill in my bones since the day he found me broken and bloody on the dirt road to his home. His movements are gentle and slow and in perfect sync with what he knows my body needs. I am so lost in the pleasure of his touch that I barely hear my own screams as he sends me over the edge. My body is Jell-O, my mind is perverted, and this beautiful man owns my heart. He pulls me into his side and covers me with blankets while the peace I feel lulls me to sleep.
Chapter Six
Shame:
*a regrettable or unfortunate situation or action. *a painful feeling of humiliation or distress caused by the consciousness of wrong or foolish behavior. *a loss of respect or esteem; dishonor.
~Derek~
Oh my God! What have I done? Taking the virginity of a young woman who doesn’t even know her name is unacceptable, even in my book. She is probably even suffering from hero worship or maybe Stockholm syndrome. With her curled into my side all boneless and sated, it is very hard to have any regrets, but the guilt I feel for taking advantage is going to eat me alive.