I had to admit, it wasn’t looking good for me, but I refused to give up. Even if they managed to take me down and capture me, I’d never stop fighting. I’d learned one important lesson while in that prison shrouded under the guise of a hospital-freedom was the most precious thing I could own, and by damn, I wouldn’t allow anyone to take that from me again, not without a vicious fight.
Slugging left and right, kicking back and forth, covered in a sticky layer of blood, I wasn’t aware the tide of the battle had changed until the body I fought fell over and I discovered there was nothing left to hit. And yet, the sound of someone’s fist hitting flesh still filled the air. I pivoted in time to see the last of my attackers drop, laid flat by a giant of a man.
I meant to say thank you, but the words caught in my throat as eyes glowing the green of spring grass rose to meet mine. For once, I was the one spellbound. My breath caught, my lower extremities heated and my lips parted on a sigh. I couldn’t see the face of my sparring partner, the gloom of the alley hung too deep, but I didn’t care, for sinking into the green depths of his eyes, I felt a calming peace-and a naughty thrill. I took a step towards him, or I meant to, but my legs buckled. I sank to my knees, my mind fuzzy with incomprehension.
Was I injured? I looked down at myself and noted the blood staining my clothes and skin. I vaguely felt the sting and throb of dozens of scratches and bruises, none of them grievous enough to cause such a weakness. The needle, however, sticking out of my side explained a lot.
“Fuckers,” I slurred before keeling forward on my face.
Chapter Two
I awoke in a bed-a nice, fluffy soft one. And, so totally not mine. I sprang out of the bed in a flash, instinct placing me in front of a wall while my eyes scanned the room I found myself in.
Did I die and go to heaven? I’d earned my confusion because all around me, from the sheets to the walls to the rugs, everything gleamed a snowy white, including the t-shirt covering my body-a huge tent of material that hung down to my knees. The reassuring feel of my thong between my cheeks and lack of labial soreness led me to believe that despite my undressed-or considering what I usually wore, dressed-state, I was unmolested. But, that begged the question…
“What the fuck?”
“Maybe later,” replied a deep voice that shot a shiver right down to my toes, but especially lingered in my crotch.
I whirled and beheld a behemoth, a handsome one, but still a freaking beast of a man. He towered over me and thick muscles stretched the fabric of the-you guessed it-white t-shirt he wore. His thighs strained the seams of his jeans and peeking down, I noted the size of his bare feet-extra freaking large. He was handsome in a square jawed, nose flattened by fists kind of way-in other words a brute of a man. The most shocking feature of his appearance though, if one ignored his size, was his hair. White and tinged with the blue of an iceberg in the northern seas, it stood in spikes on his crown, but despite its pale color, he appeared to be in his early thirties. My arousal woke with a sensual purr, tightening my nipples and moistening my cleft. He was so totally my type, which made me distrust him right off the bat. “Who the hell are you?”
“Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing.” His green eyes twinkled and even without the glow, I recognized them.
“You’re the guy who helped me out last night.” Which didn’t mean he was a good guy in my books-yet. But it did mean I’d give him a chance to prove he didn’t have nefarious intentions towards my body before I killed him. Or I’d let him fuck me. Either way, I’d ensure I came out on top-/Yeehaw/.
He shrugged. “I needed the exercise.”
Big, handsome, and modest. I wondered what flaw he hid. “Thanks,” I said grudgingly. Having survived on my own for so long, it galled me to admit, his aid saved my ass from the proverbial frying pan, but, the warmth in his gaze let me know I hadn’t escaped the fire yet.
“Thanks for what? If they hadn’t played dirty with the tranquilizer, I do believe you’d have flattened them on your own.”
I blushed at his praise. Then almost choked at the sensation. Since when do I react like a bloody girl when a guy praises me? My smile transformed into a scowl, which only deepened his grin. “Who are you and where am I?” I asked in a grumpy tone that had a lot to do with the reaction of my body to his presence, but for my peace of mind I’d blame on a lack of coffee.
“My name is Simon and you’re in my loft on the twelfth floor,” he said his voice, a low soothing rumble that I enjoyed way too much.
Good manners dictated I introduce myself even if I still remained unsure of the situation-besides in case we ended up naked in bed, he’d need a name to bellow when I gave him the best orgasm of his life. “My name is Beth.” I almost slapped a hand over my mouth when my old name came flying out as natural as you please. I must have looked shocked, for he tilted his head.
“Beth. It’s much nicer than your stage name I must say.”
“How do you know about that?”
The giant chuckled. “You had Trixi labeled inside your clothes, so unless you like to wear other people’s underwear and outfits, common sense dictates, along with the fact that I found you in the back alley of an exotic dancing location, that you have a stage name. If it makes you feel any better, Simon is my real name.”
“What’s your stage name?” I blurted, curious.
Again his lips curved into a smile that made my panties wet and I had to wonder if he were an incubus because quite honestly, despite all the men I’d enticed over the years, he was the first to return the favor.
“My stage name when I used to step into the ring, was Puff.”
I wrinkled my brow. “As in puff pastry?”
Again he laughed, the low timbre of the sound reverberating throughout my body pleasantly. “No, as in Puff the magic dragon.”
He’d really lost me at this point, and he must have noticed it because he snorted in amusement. “Don’t worry. You’ll figure out why soon enough. Now what do you say to some breakfast?”
Hunger gnawed at me sudden like, and my mouth watered, but not for the bacon I smelt drifting through the open bedroom door. Looking him up and down, my eyes lingered on the distinct bulge in his pants. I licked my lips as I realized I could go for some sausage. Injuries always wakened my hungers. Smiling at him, I turned on the juice to prep him for my idea of a morning pick me upper.
“Bad succubus,” he chided. “Is that any way to thank your host?”
My jaw dropped as he outed me. Before I could ask him how he knew-and resisted me!-he walked away. The view was surprisingly nice, especially for a guy his size. But I was allowing myself to get distracted. How the hell had he known? Other than my two best friends from the club, I held my state of being a close secret. And how come he’s not on his knees worshipping me with his tongue? Having never experienced rejection before, I quickly decided I didn’t like it one bit.
I scurried after Simon, my bare feet sinking into the plush carpeting that ended outside the bedroom door. The gleaming wood floors-white pine, what else-were chilly under my feet, actually his whole condo was a tad cool, not that it bothered me. How hot or cold a body was remained a human concern. And I was far from human anymore.
I crossed the wide expanse of the living room, which shone bright and white, probably because of the wide bank of windows that stretched from the floor to the cathedral ceiling. Good thing my other side didn’t suffer from the sunlight curse like my brothers. I am starting to wonder at his obsession with white though. Would it kill him to have a little color?