Chapter 5
DELILAH
Darlin’.
I have a new name, courtesy of Blade. Delilah has left the building, and Darlin’ is not a slave anymore.
I am free, well, I will be as soon as my path is set and rather than be terrified about that, I’m merely curious.
Blade wants me to rest, and it doesn’t seem right. I must earn my keep here. I shouldn’t expect any free loading.
“It must suck playing babysitter.”
He is stacking logs by the log burner, and his muscles flex as he works, his thin t-shirt almost groaning with the effort, and despite myself, I can’t tear my eyes away from him.
He is the scariest, most magnificent man I have ever seen, and I am not immune to him, no matter my circumstances.
“It does.”
Ouch. That told me, and I sigh inside. Great, he doesn’t want to be here anymore than I do.
“What would you be doing?”
His shoulders move as he huffs, “If I’m not fighting, I’m drinking and if I’m not drinking, I could be eating and if I’m not eating, I could well be fucking, which then only leaves sleeping.”
His words stun me, and I shift on my chair, a hot flush burning through my body like a lit trail. The silence is suddenly tense and in an effort to dispel that, I say rather highly, “Don’t you have any hobbies? You mentioned whittling wood.”
“Did I?”
He rocks back on his heels and stands, his body almost filling the small cabin, and as his dark eyes power into me, I forget to breathe.
He says nothing and merely heads out of the cabin, leaving me strangely flustered. He sure doesn’t like to talk about himself.
Now I’m alone, I don’t know what to do. My hands hurt like hell, and I can’t believe I didn’t realize they were burning. What happened back there?
I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. Wait until my memory returns, perhaps—that could never happen and I may be stuck here forever with Blade. At least at Rockwell I had some company. Not the kind I relished, but there were other people there.
Most of the time I was locked in Angela’s small apartment, but occasionally I ventured outside when she was teaching or otherwise occupied.
Mainly to do the laundry or pick up supplies.
To everyone else, I was her sort of housekeeper.
Then there were the others. The ones who knew exactly what I was and took advantage of that with her blessing.
I shiver as the memories return with a vengeance, and it’s obvious I can’t be alone with my thoughts right now.
How can I live with what I’ve done?
* * *
The sun is hot today, fierce in fact, and even the shade of the forest does little to cool the heat from the fiery rays.
The stream seems mighty appealing right now, and I wonder if I could sit on the edge of it and dangle my feet in the crystal-clear water. Perhaps it will distract me from the haunted memories that will probably destroy me in the end.
As I head outside and round the back of the cabin, my mouth drops and I freeze as if I’m made of stone.
What the fuck?
Blade is buck naked. Not from behind either.
He is standing in the stream, minus any clothes, and I have never seen anything like it.
His muscles have a life of their own, and his dark chest hair is even darker now that it’s wet.
The ink from endless tattoos blurring as his muscles flex, altering their appearance.
His chest is insane. Is that a freaking nine-pack? Is there such a thing?
My eyes drift lower—I just can’t help myself and I swallow hard. His cock is freaking huge. A freak of nature, surely, and is that a piercing glinting in the sunlight?
I have lost all power in my limbs, and only a low chuckle rouses me from oblivion.
“Like what you see, darlin’?”
Fuck.
I swallow hard and attempt to act disinterested.
“You could have warned me.”
“Why?”
He makes no attempt to cover himself up; if anything, he is amused by the situation.
And yet I still can’t stop looking at him.
“Obviously, one of your hobbies is working out.”
I say dryly, attempting to disguise how affected I am by this show, for want of a better description.
“Not really.”
“You’re lying.”
“Are you calling me a liar, darlin’?”
The blood drains from my body as I realize how rude that sounded.
“Well, you’ve got to admit it sure looks that way.”
I’m now even hotter than before, and he says with no emotion, “You should join me. It’s the best place to be right now.”
He’s not wrong there.
I bite my bottom lip and attempt to still my racing heart.
“I don’t, well, have a swimsuit.”
“Neither do I.”
I walked right into that one and clear my throat.
“It’s okay, I was coming out to dangle my feet in the stream.”
“Go ahead.”
He turns his back on me and drops down into the water. Floating back, facing upward, his head disappearing beneath the waterline.
If anything, it accentuates his enormous cock, and I gasp for air, wondering what the hell I should do now.
If I sit on the riverbank, it will be level with my eyeline wherever I sit, and I hate how interested in it I am.
Would it hurt? What about the piercing? Surely that would rip a woman apart?
Would it hurt him? How painful was it when he had it done?
“What are you waiting for, darlin’, a written invitation?”
His words bring me back to the situation at hand, and I scoot to the edge and sit with a thump, my feet dangling in the crystal water as I lean back on my hands in an attempt to look unconcerned.
“Fuck!”
My squeal of pain causes him to open one eye as I lean forward, my hands on fire as they remind me I can’t apply any pressure on them.
“I should bandage those; it might help protect them a little.”
“I’m fine. Dandy even. Nothing to see here.”
I’m still staring at his cock that appears to be floating of its own accord right now, having a lovely time as it basks in the pleasure of the cool, invigorating stream. I wonder why it hasn’t shrunk yet? Surely it’s cold in there. Isn’t it meant to shrivel under those circumstances?
Once again, the blood drains from my face when I realize he’s fucking hard.
His low chuckle returns me to the room, and I snap, “What’s so funny?”
“You amuse me, darlin’.”
“How?”
I shrug, attempting to play it cool, and he sits up and rolls over, exposing the most perfect muscled ass I have ever seen on a man before.
“Perhaps it’s best if I adopt this position to save your blushes.”
“Clothes would do that perfectly.”
“It’s too hot for clothes.”
The fact that my t-shirt is stained with sweat is testament to that and as it runs down my back, I wish like hell I was naked right now and in that stream myself.
“It’s okay, darlin’, I won’t touch you, but you can’t blame a guy for being horny. It’s been a while.”
“I’m good, thanks.”
I sound like a freaking schoolmistress; my tone is clipped and dismissive, and I drag in a deep lungful of fresh mountain air.
“So–”
He says nothing, and I scramble for words to fill the awkward silence.
“How long do we wait? Have you heard from anyone?”
“No.”
A bug flies into my ear, causing me to slap against it, and I squeal, “Ow, that fucking hurts.”
“Language, darlin’.”
My eyes widen. “Language? You are really calling me out on my language right now.”
“You’re a lady. I prefer my ladies not to cuss like a guy.”
He has the audacity to chuckle as I wrap my head around the description as his lady.
His lady.
Is he joking? Why do I hope he’s not? Why am I so needy all of a sudden? Why do I like this brute?
He moves fast, before I can recover, and two huge hands wrap around my waist. He tugs me into the stream, my body slamming against his as the cold water hits my skin, instantly freezing the sweat on it.
His laughter meets my squeal, and before I know what’s happening, he pulls me under with him, my head completely submerged, his hands still holding my waist carefully, protectively.
Then we break the water line, and I gulp in huge lungfuls of air and his strong fingers wipe away the droplets of water from my eyes as he says huskily, “Does that feel better?”
My eyes pop open and I stare into his dark, intense gaze.
I say nothing, unable to look away, and as his gaze powers through me, I can form no words. I have no movement either, and only the cry of a bird overhead disturbs the sudden silence as we connect in a surprising moment of astonishment.
I recover first.
“Why?”
He doesn’t appear to be in a hurry to push me away; if anything, his hold tightens and he leans closer and whispers against my ear, “Medical emergency. You’re welcome.”
His breath is hot, dusting my cheek, and his touch is surprisingly gentle, his thumb applying small pressure to my waist, his chest pressed against mine, and his cock – fuck!
I have no power left in my limbs, and for some reason, tears spill down my face as I break a little inside.
“You’re crying.”
He states facts and I nod, my words tied in a jumble inside me.
He strokes my face, pulling me closer, and for some reason, I wrap my arms around him, well, half of him anyway, and sob on his shoulder as if he cracked my heart open and the pain seeps out.