Her Secretive Protector
By Michaela Strong
Copyright© 2016 by Michaela Strong. All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
www.michaelastrong.com
Her Secretive Protector
Walking into Rory's house, it was as spectacular as Dana imagined it to be but still it was a marvel. She took pleasure walking around it and let the newness of it unfold with surprise. It was well appointed with wooden beams, picture windows and a stone hearth and fireplace. The planked floors were stained with an ashy sienna color and his furniture was plush and elegant. It spoke volumes about him. But, Dana thought, everything about Rory screamed Rory.
"It's late," he said bluntly to her. "The bath is here," he pressed opened a door. "And your bed is here," he indicated.
He was giving her the guest room. It was what she asked for really. Still it hurt.
The bath and room were more luxurious than Dana's stint at the Mandarin. Her feet disappeared as she sank into the plush mat covering the stone tiles of the bathroom floor. Dana was definitely a bath-taker not a shower-taker but in light of the circumstances, those particularly being Rory's mood, she made it quick. She draped herself with the sheet towel of thick Egyptian terry and scurried to her room. The last batch of her clean clothes had been wrecked with massage oil since he urged her to dress without bathing post massage, so Dana slide under the bed covers naked. The feel of the flannel sheets against her clean, smooth skin was intense and Dana was still, enjoying it. Big Dog knew how to do comfort.
Dana was rushed with the urge to dive bomb Rory's bed without a stitch on now that all was quiet. It made her sad that that would not be the right thing to do. She accepted that she had been too much back and forth. The come closer/go away routine had run its course and the separate bedroom thing spoke loud and clear. Still, she wanted her Rory. She wanted his big, giant body, sweet mouth; his bear paw hands, his powerful thighs grazing hers as he spread them to get inside her.
Dana coursed her palm over her flat stomach, feeling the silken warmth of her freshly washed skin. Such a waste she thought. I should be sharing this. But such thoughts gave way to sleep and before she knew it she was wakened with a question.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Dana blinked off her slumber gladly focusing on the handsome figure in her room with coffee for her. He set her cup on the night stand. She didn't understand his alarm. "What?" she asked.
"What is the idea sleeping like that?"
Dana looked down. "I didn't have anything to wear."
"You coulda asked."
Dana smiled, securing her modesty under the comfort. "I don't think we wear the same size, Big Dog."
Rory stomped off and returned. "Here." He tossed a T shirt at her. "For now."
"Okay," she complied.
"Breakfast in five," he said as he gave her her privacy.
"Yes, Marine."
Rory's shirt fit her like a short dress. She waded up to the table he set with small plates of fruit, cheese, cream fraiche, meat and bread. "It's lovely," she said. "You're very thoughtful."
"Dammit Dana. That's not any better," He said painfully.
"Am I bothering you Rory? I don't mean to. Honestly I've never had this effect on a man before."
"Sit down and eat," he snipped. She wanted to giggle but didn't.
Dana scooped a medley of plain berries onto her plate, freshened her coffee from the urn he set out. She seemed to bother him more. He reached across, placed a couple of slices of fresh baguette loaded with soft cheese and a serving of smoky scented meat.
"What is this?" she asked.
"Food."
"Oh thank you for clearing that up. What is the meat? Looks like turkey?"
"Duck. Smoked duck. You a vegetarian?"
Dana smirked and chided him. "You know that I am not." It took a moment for Dana's dirty joke to settle on him. She saw his face change. Yes, she bothered him. "Thank you I am sure it is delicious." She refrained from making every bite a still for a porno movie but she was tempted. The tension between them was starting to grate.
She took a bite of the duck just to appease him and it backfired. It was perhaps the most sensual thing that she had ever eaten. She had to close her eyes. She was not an adventurous eater but this was really good. She wanted to reach out and touch his hand while she experienced it. "What is it smoked with?"
"Tea."
"It's really good. Thank you for sharing it with me, Rory." She tapped the table to make the silverware jingle. She looked at him and he knew what she was thinking.
"No."
"Why not? We are stuck here together, unless you're off to work."
"No I am not going anywhere."
"Come on. It's not my fault this all happened while I met you. I am human. I am sorry if I say things and do things right now that aren't perfect…"
Rory cut her off. "Exactly. The time is not right."
"Then don't feed me things like smoked duck," she got up from the table.
"Where are you going?" he demanded.
"I'm done. I'll go back to the apartment and get my own food. I have stuff there. Not as fun as this but I'll deal. But I don't need to stay here with you despising me. Thanks for breakfast."
"Dana," he said.
"No. You're not the only one who can pout."
Rory's eyes flared and his jaws dropped. "I do not pout."
"Yes you do! And while I am at it," Dana took the hem of his shirt and lifted it above her breasts. She flashed him.
"Stop it now!" he said in a voice that Dana triumphantly recognized as the sweet agonizing tone he took before he orgasmed.
"If you're going to be here with me, Rory, you're going to have to deal."
"This is my house," he said perplexedly.
"And you're making me stay here. I am not going to pretend that we didn't have stupendous wall-shaking, earth shattering sex."
"We don't even know each other. We rushed into something. It wasn't a good idea."
"It was a great idea and people do this sort of thing all the time."
"They do not."
"They do too and it lasts a life time. I have a great idea since you and I are shut in, let's play arranged marriage."
"Stop," he said starting to clear the table.
"Come on," she said, baiting him. "The fireplace could be the stage coach and you can be the cowboy who ordered me."
"I said stop," he said again.
"Or it could be like a Far East thing. You're the sexy sultan, I'm the new, shy harem girl."
Rory grabbed her wristed firmly, clearly pushed pashed his limits. "I said stop."
Dana was hoping he would at some point start laughing but it didn't work out that way. She had just rubbed him raw. He may have had tears in his eyes but she was fighting back her own she couldn't quite tell.
"Ok, ok. You know if you have a washing machine I can run some clothes through a cycle and give you your shirt back. Or if you've got a snowsuit I can wear, the sight of my bare skin won't offend you anymore."
"Dana?" he said with warning.
"Ok I got it." She took a couple of casual steps from him and once she got down the short hallway to her room, she accelerated, pushing herself through the door, locking it behind her. She flung herself on her bed and sobbed.
Every awful thing that had happened at the end of her last relationship came back to the surface and Dana felt good and sorry for herself. It was not fair. It just wasn't fair. She had moments where she thought it was a good thing she found out that her ex-boyfriend was such a creep because it lessened the probability of the truth of the cruel things he told her. But now she was back in that part of the cycle where she did feel like a loser, as he would call her. Rory made her feel so hot and now, she was back to feeling like the fool Sean had always said she was. And now because of that bastard she was under house arrest with another who didn't want her anymore and she wanted to time warp and forget she had ever met either man.
Fine. She would just stay in the charming little guest room for a day or whatever it was until they did what they needed to do with Sean Logan and then she would make a point to forget them both.
Rory knocked on the door, interrupting her fuming.
"What," she said sharply. He tried the door. "I didn't say come in. I said what."
"May I have your laundry?" he asked evenly, blandly.
She gathered up her clothes, opened the door and moved passed him.
"I'll take them."
"I want to do it myself."
Rory started to protest but she used his own words against him.
"I'm not asking," she spat angrily.
He sighed. "Come with me,please," he said softly.
She followed after him, to the kitchen which was all marble and granite and hung with perfectly shined chrome ware. Rory was the perfect housekeeper. He opened a door that looked like it might be to a closet that led to stairs. Stairs down to a dark basement. Half way down the case she realized he hadn't switched on a light and it was pitch black. She had to place a hand on his back to feel her way.
"Last step," he coached, in an even voice. The grouchy mood of the morning seemed to have left him.
"Can you please slow down?" She lost contact with him for second. She was ready to panic until she felt him take her hand. She let him lead her. He led her across the threshold of another door and yanked a string. There was light and there were the washer and dryer.
He stood behind her, purposely hovered as he gave her instructions on how to work the machine. "Any questions?" he asked over her shoulder, his mouth so close to hers.
"I'm sorry," Dana said sweetly, "I wasn't listening to anything you said. Could you please repeat it?"
Slowly, he took her hand in his and ran through the procedure of settings and knobs, opening the lid, placing the clothes in the machine. He closed the lid on the load of laundry, pressing against her.
"Wait," she said. "We forgot something." She took hold of the shirt that she borrowed from him and slid out of it. She pressed her back in to him forcing him to almost hug her from behind. "Can you lift the lid of the machine again, my hands are full." He took the shirt from her hands and put it in the wash.
Rory stared at Dana as though he were mesmerized. He easily lifted her to the top of the machine and kissed her; devouring her with everything he had. His tongue dominated hers, sweeping her mouth, tasting her with complete ownership. She held clasped his giant hand over her breast, directing it do her ribs and all over her body. He broke from the kiss. "You know, "he said as though he were drugged, "I didn't realize I was such a jerk until I met you."
"But now you know for sure?" She smiled.
"You are a terminal smart ass aren't you?"
"Yes. Are you going to correct me again?"
He grinned. "Yes."
"Well as long as we are making confessions, I guess it's only fair for me to say I'm not real proud of myself these days either. Well except that time when you were on the chair and I was riding you like a rodeo queen. I have to say I was pretty proud of that experience."
"You're a funny girl. You know what happens to funny girls?"
"Can you explain it to me again?" she said in a sultry tenor. "And use visual aids?" She kissed him with her most seductive style, wrapping her legs around his hips and lowering herself just enough so that his erection, which she was sure he would have, grazed the lace-covered entrance to her body. "Big Dog," she said to him and they looked longingly into each other's eyes.
"I know, beautiful," he replied and took a draw on her mouth while he let her unfasten his pants.
Dana was wet for him. He was so hard. They remained latched on to each other kissing as she put him inside of her. The pressure of the hard metal washing machine surface against her buttocks in counterpoint to the rigid stroking of his cock on the inside of her flesh was delicious. He stroked Dana in all the perfect places. She could feel the veil of eroticism slacken her face. They now held each other's gaze as he fucked her. Dana mixed it up a little and looked down as he went in and out of her. That was her undoing. It caused an orgasm to rise rapidly within her and he could feel it.
Rory tipped her back on the full flat surface of the washing machine which was cold against her skin. The chill made her wriggle against him, agitating and coaxing her climax as he clasped her ankles straight up, making an L with her body as he drove into her. Dana shattered on his turgid cock.
"Oh my gosh," she panted. Through her tantalized stupor she heard him release a hearty laugh. He reached down and gently squeezed her nipple erect from the pleasure she found. The washing machine made a loud clunking noise that caused Dana to snap too out of her heady delirium. She looked at him with surprise.
He laughed again. "It's just the spin cycle." He leaned into her almost, but not, too forcefully grinding into her, wedging his body as far up inside as he could. Her walls were pleasure-sensitive and torture was absolute heaven. It was so intensely erotic the way he controlled her, took her, made himself orgasm this way.
"You like it when I fuck you don't you?"
"Oh, yes I do," her eyes rolled back into her head. "I love everything about it. I cannot get enough of your perfect cock!" she shrieked. He squeezed her thighs and hammered. She tried to reach under or to stroke him but he was in control taking from her what he needed, making her drunk with the thought of it.
So Dana just watched him. Watched him move his beautiful body, watched the face that he made as he transform, learning the tell-tale signs. His whole upper body constricted, his face pulled up and then it hit. He pumped furiously as Dana watched with a smile as an exquisite orgasm wash through him. He nodded slightly; resting his head on hers as he recovered from what she found to be a glorious episode in their string of amazing experiences. This could not just be the hormones talking, thought Dana, could it?
He gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead as he moved from her, adjusting his clothes. He helped her off the washer. "Put these on." He reached for some folded clothing on a shelf above the washer and dry, "and help me hang these up on the line. It's going to be warm again."
Well if that wasn't avoiding the elephant in the room…well, that was avoiding the elephant in the room. But Dana complied. Whose clothes were these? She was awfully leggy who ever she was. Dana had to roll the cuffs of her pants twice just to expose her heels. He stopped and regarded her but didn't say anything. There was something of a mix between a smile and sadness on his face.
She trailed Rory through his basement which was expansive. Just around a painted brick column was an indoor line strung with damp quilts. "Let's hang these outside. They should be good by dinner time." Once again he sensed what was going on with her. "Be patient," he whispered. And don't cry, Dana thought to herself.
They dressed the line with two quilts he said his grandmother made. He had washed them by hand. The winter weather with its flip flops from warm to cold to warm, sort of like Rory and her, would safely dry them. His back yard was rich with thick grass still green and dotted with just a few stray leaves and some green orbs, obviously something that dropped from the trees. Rory bent down to pick one up. "Help me pick these up, sweet." His tone was somber, almost sad and it left Dana just so confused and feeling very vulnerable. They had just had wonder
ful sex and he was withdrawn.
"What are these?"
"Walnuts," he winked, tossing one up and catching it. Okay he liked her.
Dana and Rory gathered up as many walnuts as they could carry in the pouches made with their shirts and took them up on to bucket on his deck. "Are we going to eat these?"
Rory laughed softly. "Not today." He put them into a bucket of gravel and stirred.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm taking their hulls off. These will be good to go in about two weeks."
"Oh," Dana said meekly.
"But there are some that are ready in the kitchen. In a pie. You ready for some more coffee?"
"You made walnut pie?"
He smiled but it was muted by a definite veil of sadness. Something was weighing on him. It couldn't be her, she didn't think. "And coffee," he added with another wink. Dana was definitely liking those.
Affection for him balled up in her, making her want to burst at the seams. She definitely could fall head long into love with this guy. She wanted to tell him to stop being so damn nice to her. It wasn't nice. Because she was falling. Fast.
They entered the house through the wooden French doors off the deck. It had been unseasonably warm outside for December but there was a slight touch of dampness in the air. Dana though those quilts might be better off in the basement after all. Stepping into the house caused a chill to run through her. "Do you have the air conditioning on?"
"No. I don't have anything on," he said. He and Dana paused and smiled. Usually a remark would have been fodder for play but there was definitely a pall over them. Maybe the session on the washer was their last hoorah. "Here." He walked over to the hearth and turned a key. "This should help keep you warm." The fireplace was lit instantly.
"Okay now that surprise me. I thought for sure you would be the conventional log kinda guy," she said wading through their small talk.
"That's for outside. Did you see the fire pit, the big thing that looked like a grill?"
"Yep."
"That's for outside fire. We can do one tonight if you like. It's great." She accidently grazed him with a light touch and he recoiled. Dana wanted to die. "Coffee," he said making an excuse to move away from her quickly.
Her Secretive Protector (Her Protector Alpha Male Military Romance Book 4) Page 1
