Her wrist throbbed where he’d squeezed it. For a moment she’d thought he’d crushed the bones with his bare hands. A headache pulsed in her right temple and the eye that Sue had clipped felt swollen and sore. ‘Are you going to hurt me?’
‘No way. You’re too precious for that.’
‘Precious?’ If she didn’t strip for him, he’d rip her clothes off and from the super-charged look of him, he’d enjoy doing it too.
‘My men need a doctor. I need you to heal them. What I don’t need is you trying to take me out with a blade in my down time. I face death everyday. I don’t need this shit.’ He sauntered towards her, put his arm around her waist and led her to the bathroom.
Her feet seemed leaden as she stumbled forward. This time she steeled herself not to lash out at him. He got off on it. Her attempt to stab him had just made him all the more determined to dominate her. She could see that now. Jack was so different from any of the men she dealt with professionally. The specialists all worked long hours and weren’t so relentlessly physical. Violent patients they’d restrain and drug, but Jack didn’t come into that category either. Everything he did was well thought out and planned. As well as being an authoritative jerk, he was indecently handsome in his almost naked state. His skin was hot and smooth against hers as he walked her into the bathroom. For a licentious moment she imagined what it would feel like to have his hot soaped-up body covering hers. Many women would enjoy the domination. But with the world already falling apart around her, she couldn’t tolerate the thought of losing control.
She stood stiff and frozen when they entered the bathroom. She simply couldn’t comply with taking off her clothes.
Jack closed the door behind them. Clearly he didn’t suffer her anxiety because he peeled off his jocks and stood superbly naked in front of her. ‘Need help?’
She shook her head. At least he wasn’t erect because an erection would have freaked her out completely and right now the guy was evidence that the size of a guy’s hands and feet were good predictors.
‘Words left you again?’ He gave that half-smile she hated as if he found the situation amusing. He closed the distance between them and unbuttoned her shirt, pushing it off her shoulders so that she was exposed. Her nipples peaked of their own accord and she bit back a curse. Resistance would excite him so she forced herself not to fight or curse him. Stripping her of her jeans quickly followed.
He left her, opened the shower door and turned on the tap. ‘Don’t look so nervous, you’ll enjoy this.’
‘I would if you weren’t here.’ Some of the fear left her at that point. Jack had a certain honesty about him. When he’d said he wouldn’t hurt her she’d believed him, but she doubted she’d feel enjoyment with him so close. She slid past him, careful not to touch. It wouldn’t take much and he would be on her. She knew that.
Jack followed her in and closed the shower door. He bent and squatted in front of her.
Ruth flattened herself against the shower wall. What the hell was he going to do? Every nerve ending, every cell froze. The man was barely inches from her. From her position above him she could see he was grinning as if he’d won the pussy lottery. When he stood, he produced a shampoo bottle, which he’d retrieved from the floor. Anyone would think he’d visited nirvana from the expression she wanted to slap off his face. She was beginning to think Sue was right when she’d tried to convince her to laser everything off. Her bright red thatch stood out against her pale skin.
‘I’m going to start with washing your hair.’
‘Really? Just which hair were you planning to start on? Here, give me that.’ She snatched at the shampoo bottle but he held it out of her reach and laughed.
‘Impatient, aren’t you?’ He squirted some into his hands.
‘I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.’
‘Yeah, I got that. I hear you say it a lot. You like to do everything yourself. You’ve probably got a four speed vibrator stored in your bedside drawer.’
How did he know that?
He lathered up her hair, his big hands massaging the shampoo into her scalp. Hot water beat down on her head and shoulders. It was glorious. Just for a second, she forgot that she hated him. ‘You’re wrong.’
‘Yeah? What about?’
The man had magic in his fingers when it came to touch. Up close his chest was broad, his arms muscled and he had flat, hard, lickable nipples. She closed her eyes, determined not to be mesmerised by his perfect physicality. ‘My vibrator’s six speed. Better than a man.’
He turned her around so that she had her back to him, then he tilted her head, washing the shampoo out of her hair. ‘That’s because you’ve been with the wrong man.’ He reached down in front of her and stroked the tip of his finger across her clit.
A pulse of pleasure hit her and she gasped.
‘Guess your vibrator must have run out of batteries. You’re overdue an orgasm.’ He chuckled before bending and picking up the conditioner bottle.
Her nipples peaked and while part of her wanted to curse him, the traitorous part of her body sang. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, not even to herself, Jack’s touch had the power to turn her on. The bastard. Soap stung her eyes. She spun around to face him and tilted her head upward to wash it out. ‘Don’t you dare touch me between the legs.’
He slathered on the conditioner, his glorious fingers spreading it through her hair. ‘Just proving a point. Did it surprise you how much you enjoyed it?’
She would have glared at him, but she was too busy washing the conditioner out of her hair and eyes. ‘I didn’t,’ she protested, spitting water out of her mouth.
‘Maybe you’ll enjoy this more.’
When she felt his two soapy hands massaging her breasts, his thumb and forefingers gently tweaking her nipples, she arched into his hands. Jack had been right, she was well overdue an orgasm. Her former lover had been concerned about his own pleasure and she, so ready to bask in his specialist knowledge, had let him get away with it. ‘Stop soaping me. Stop touching me.’ Turning her face out of the stream of water, she grabbed his hands, which were heading between her legs.
‘You were going to say, “I’ll do it myself”.’ The half-grin was back and his green eyes sparkled with amusement.
‘Give me the soap.’ On taking it, she lathered her hands not daring to take her gaze off him but he tilted the shower so that it sprayed right into her face. Blinded she felt him circle one arm around the back of her waist holding her in place, while the soapy fingers of his other hand slid between her legs. The delicious, slippery sensation made her moan out loud. He worked his fingers back and forward over her sensitive pussy lips. She opened her mouth to protest, but his own came down to claim hers.
Jack could kiss. It was full, sensuous, take-no-prisoners claiming. He didn’t use his tongue, but as his lips moved over hers, he held her close and stroked her between her legs. The pleasure was so intense that she couldn’t fight, couldn’t struggle. He had her trapped in his powerful arms working two of his fingers into her to moisten them and sliding them over and over her most sensitive part. Her whole body tensed at his daring invasion and he stroked her rhythmically, until she groaned and writhed under his control. Possession. The word throbbed in her mind like a heart beat. How did he know how to touch her clit so deliciously that she was prisoner to his will? The thought took her to the brink until she shattered.
Fighting to break his kiss, she jerked her head away, and gulped in air as another orgasm quickly followed, the rush of intensity zinging up her spine and exploding. Fireworks filled her head, so powerful she could hardly see. A deep groan left her lips as wave upon wave overtook her. Her legs wobbled but he held her tightly, his body pressing her up against the shower stall, his hard cock nudging her hip. His forefinger slid expertly over her clitoris, building her up to another orgasm while he worked one fingertip into her anus. She clenched down on the fingertip, not wanting it. The unauthorised intrusion along with his rapid clit
oral stroking sent a final orgasm through her whole body, so vibrant that she cried out loud, the sound of her pleasure echoing off the walls. Outraged she shoved at him, slapping at his face, his shoulders, his chest until he finally released her. ‘How dare you touch me there!’
Raw carnal desire lit up his face and one hand went to his cock. Thick and long, the man had been born with more than his share and no shame either. He was sucking on the fingers he’d had in her vagina or perhaps the one he’d slid into her anus. Hell she didn’t know. Didn’t want to know. The man had put a finger where no one had dared to before. Filthy, disgusting pig.
She flung open the shower screen door, grabbed a towel and stormed out of the bathroom. She dried herself, furious that he’d worked an orgasm, correction—multiple orgasms—that not even her vibrator had enticed out of her. Arsehole! Hell, double hell. That was not the time to use that word. She hoped he was having fun back there in the shower stall alone. Grabbing her long pyjama pants and T-shirt out of her duffle bag, she pulled them on, conscious of the pleasurable throbbing between her legs. She was still wet there and no amount of drying herself was going to get rid of the evidence. She made sure she was dressed by the time he entered the bedroom, his towel hugging him low around his hips.
‘Ready for sleep? I left a new toothbrush in the tooth cup in the bathroom for you in case you didn’t pack one.’ He mentioned it so casually as if he hadn’t done anything wrong as if invading every part of her body was normal and natural.
She couldn’t answer him. Didn’t answer him. Instead, Ruth strode out and walked back into the bathroom. He’d dried the floor and the floor mat was neatly placed in front of the sink. She put toothpaste on her new brush and cleaned her teeth. How could someone so sexually voracious be so neat? It was like he put his life into compartments. Despite her disgust, her body hummed and she longed to climb into bed without the fear that a braindead would break down her bedroom door and attack her. After she’d cleaned her teeth, she sat on the toilet and tried to empty her bladder. Sated and swollen, she couldn’t pee, so she sat trying to think of something unpleasant. Instead she kept seeing Jack’s face and the sheer carnality of his desire. Being taken by him would be sensational, but then he’d think he owned her. Not happening, Jack. Think Mrs Nichols. Guilt. Misery. Ah, the stream started and seemed to go forever. Relief. Sleep. She needed it. Finished, she pulled up her pants, flushed and washed her hands.
When she returned to the bedroom, the main light was already off and Jack was in bed, the sheets covering his hips. Even lying down he seemed possessive, his gaze running over her, his bare torso pumped and no doubt a burgeoning erection under the sheets. He pulled her side back.
‘I want to sleep in your spare bedroom.’ Her chin jutted out.
‘You sleep where I can keep an eye on you. You’re still in the zone where you could turn and try and eat me. It hasn’t been over three days yet.’
‘Humph! More like the other way around.’ She walked over to her side of the bed.
He grinned and a dark flush stained his throat. ‘You’re very responsive.’
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘With the most beautiful pussy I’ve ever seen. A real redhead. I’d love you to spread your legs for me so I could taste you.’
‘Shut up, Jack.’
‘Your cheeks go bright pink when you come. Bet your pussy would too if I licked you to orgasm.’
She was too tired to tell him where to stick his comment and answering back just sexually excited him. Actually anything sexually excited him. He was like an animal. Just the type of man her father was, who’d dumped her mother the moment she’d become pregnant, leaving her to bring up Ruth on her own. She slid into bed resting right at the edge. Staying in control would keep her alive, giving in to bestial behaviour wouldn’t, especially if she fell pregnant. ‘Stay on your side. Don’t touch me.’
He sat and leaned over her once she lay down as if he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. Before she could react, he reached up and pulled something linked to one of the rails on the bedhead. A cuff.
She tried to sit but his body was leaning over hers. ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing? What is it with beds and cuffs with you?’
‘It’s just a precaution in case I go into a deep sleep and you turn.’ He took her wrist in his other hand.
She jerked her arm away but his grip hardened. ‘Don’t fight this, Ruth. You can’t win. You’ll only strain a muscle.’
‘It is not okay to cuff me. That’s a pathetic excuse. If you’re so concerned that I’ll turn, lock me in the spare bedroom.’ She shoved at his shoulder, trying to get him to move out of her space only resulting in slipping off the edge of the bed and falling on the floor.
He kept hold of her wrist and clicked the cuff into place. ‘And miss a moment of your company? I don’t think so. Besides I don’t have a lock on the second bedroom door.’
She sat on the floor glaring up at him. ‘I hate you.’
He grinned. ‘No you don’t. You kissed me back.’
‘It meant nothing.’ It was a childish response but she was exhausted by nervous tension and failure to explain her intense physical response to him. That kiss had resonated in her bones, called to her like a banquet enticing a famished soul. Yet, this guy was a controlling jerk. Albeit, a handsome oversexed one.
‘Need a hand up?’ He extended his arm towards her.
She narrowed her eyes and glared at him. Instead of taking it, she pushed herself up using one hand and climbed back into bed, turning her back to him. By shoving her pillow under her head she could lie comfortably on her left hand side, her cuffed wrist resting just off the bed. She peered at the lock, wondering if there was a way to break it.
When Jack rolled over to his side and turned off the light, she noticed if she stretched out she could reach him, but not well enough to bite him if she turned. Had he measured the bloody bed beforehand? Still he couldn’t be genuinely concerned about her turning because no sane person would sleep with a potential braindead. He fell asleep almost immediately in the way of men. At least the bastard didn’t snore. Reaching up, she fiddled with the lock, trying to work a way to undo it. Nothing. No way. Frustrated she yanked at it.
‘Ruth?’
So he wasn’t asleep after all.
‘What?’
‘Give up and get some sleep. You’re overwrought.’
‘Overwrought? I’m cuffed in bed with a stranger.’
‘There’s nowhere you can go that’s safe, except here with me.’
‘I don’t want to be with you. I didn’t spend my life flogging myself to be a doctor to end up chained to a bed with a control freak.’ Who’d stuck his finger up her arse.
‘I can defend you. Keep you alive. I’m the best kind of man you can have now.’
The mattress shifted before his hand rested on her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. ‘Jack, I think when you go on your animal rescue mission tomorrow, you should find another female to cohabit with. Preferably human.’
‘You’ll get used to this new life, Ruth. Holed up in your apartment, I don’t think you realise how bad it is out there. It’s just going to take some time.’
‘Listen, you jerk, some women enjoy domination, I don’t.’ Some women got off on Neanderthal men. Go figure. She certainly wasn’t going to stay with a guy who thought the answer to getting her to do what he wanted was to cuff her to a bed. Whatever had happened to the world outside she could do better than this. Lord knows there were enough single men around.
‘Ruth?’
‘Hmmm?’
‘What contraceptive are you on? I ask because I noticed you didn’t respond well to me touching your anus.’
‘Argh.’ The strangled cry left her lips before she could contain it. ‘You touch me there again and I swear I will find some way to inject you with a disease that will make your dick fall off.’
‘I got that you didn’t like it. I won’t touch, lick
or penetrate you there. Guess you’d better start on the pill. I raided the pharmacy on Military Road. You can have your pick.’
Ruth pushed herself to a sitting position so fast that her head spun. ‘Get this into your thick navy head. I am not having sex with you. My response in the shower was an aberration. I was letting off steam because it suited me to do so.’ She lay back, punched her pillow to reshape it, wishing it were his head.
He chuckled. ‘Must be hot in your engine. I’d say you blew a gasket. If you need a workout, tomorrow I’ll take you for a jog to Balmoral Beach and you can see what’s become of civilisation. It’s time for you to understand just how great you have it with me.’
‘You mean it? I’ve been cooped up for so long.’ She wished she’d kept the joy out of her voice so he wouldn’t clue in to her plans. Moored just off the beach was her boat and she had the key in her jean’s pocket. She could swim to it. Once on board she was free. There had to be places on the coast where there were no braindeads. Places that would welcome someone with her skills.
‘You’re not a prisoner, Ruth. When you earn my trust, you can go anywhere on the compound.’
Gee he could have fooled her. Not a prisoner. What bullshit. ‘Just what am I supposed to do to earn your trust?’
‘That kiss was great.’ There was hope in his voice. Wistfulness as if the anger she had aroused when she’d taken to him with the scalpel had drained out of him. He must have been starved of a woman’s touch for some time to be so pleased. Hopeful for a relationship or whatever constituted a relationship for a man who thought it was okay to restrain her to a bed. Everyone had lost so much, but it didn’t mean she should have to cope with the desperate-for-pussy looks he gave her.
‘Go back to sleep, Jack.’ She’d hoped he’d enjoyed the kiss because if her plans went right, that would be the last one he was getting from her.
Chapter 6
When Ruth woke the next morning to the sound of harp music she wondered for a moment if she was about to enter the pearly gates. Umm no. When she tried to sit, she was still cuffed in Jack’s bed. Perhaps it was his idea of heaven but it certainly wasn’t hers. Light streamed in and she could see the sea through the bedroom window, the brilliant blue of it twinkling in the distance. The bedroom shutter was open and Jack wasn’t anywhere to be seen. If she smashed the window would anyone hear? There had to be a way out of the shackle.
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