She wanted to climb him like a tree, there was no denying that, but she also seemed to trust him. Wasn’t that weird? She didn’t know him from Adam!
Mate. The voice inside her head whispered the strange word again, and she closed her eyes, counting to three before she stepped inside the large bathroom.
She could hardly believe the luxurious space she was in. Golden-accents and marble tiles covered every bit of counter and floor space. There was an enormous sunken bathtub that sat in the middle of the huge bathroom, though it was more like a bath-suite really, and she sighed in anticipation.
“This is bigger than my apartment,” she muttered as she glanced longingly at the tub before turning her head to see an equally decadent, glass-walled shower on the opposite end of the room.
If she was going to be stuck there a while, she could probably explore the bathtub later. Right then, she needed a shower. She only hoped the water pressure was hard enough to ease her aching limbs and wash out the strange vibes.
Violet stopped in front of the floor length mirror and gasped as she took in her reflection. She was a mess. Her hair had escaped it’s pony tail and was sticking up in some places and matted to her head in others. Clothes dirty and torn, there was dried blood in her hair and on her sweater, though it was clear someone had wiped her face clean.
Dean, her thoughts warmed as they settled on her rescuer. He’d been nothing but courteous and polite, even if he was oddly naked when she’d woken up from her accident.
Maybe she’d imagined the whole licking her neck thing? Maybe it was some weird custom where he was from?
Yeah. Right. He comes from an alien tribe of throat lickers. Ha!
Well, whatever it was, truth be told, she felt better now than she had before the accident. Physically at least. Mentally and emotionally, she wasn’t quite ready to make any bold statements yet.
Violet’s thoughts wandered as she stripped out of her damp and stained clothing. She had some glass in her hair and sweater but managed to toss all the bits into the garbage so they didn’t hurt anyone.
Finally, she entered the shower. As the warm spray from the six separate shower heads massaged her skin from every direction, she moaned audibly and rolled her neck and shoulders at the delicious onslaught. Pouring some shower gel onto a loofah, Violet lathered and scrubbed her body until she was clean of all traces of her accident.
Her skin never felt so good as she rinsed the sudsy layer of bubbles off. Next, she washed her hair with the delicately scented orange blossom shampoo, relieved when she saw he had the matching conditioner on hand as well.
Her thick, tight curls required massive amounts of conditioner to keep it from looking like a giant frizz ball. Normally she’d forego washing it without the special treatment her boss concocted for her, but there was no helping it. She had to get the blood out.
Speaking of blood, she felt along her scalp looking for traces of cuts or bumps and came up empty. There was a very small, very thin scratch, but it was already scabbed over and could hardly be the cause of all the blood and her loss of consciousness.
But she couldn’t seem to find another bruise like it. It was all very odd. She shut off the water and stepped out onto the soft rug, sighing once more as an overhead heating fan came on, drying her skin while she patted it with a thick, fluffy towel.
All her towels had holes and were mismatched, she thought with a grimace. Crazy how when she was in her twenties, she’d dreamed of finding love and hitting it big, but now in her thirties she dreamt of matching towels that were big enough to wrap around her chubby little body.
Sigh. How our priorities change!
Okay fine. Maybe she would add daydreams of sexy, teal-eyed men who walked around rescuing damsels from car wrecks in the buff!
LOL. Yes, she could definitely admit she’d be dreaming about Dean. Probably that very night. It was Christmas Eve after all. Maybe if she was really good, Santa would get her one very tall, very hunk man as a present.
As if.
Violet shook her head and walked over to a large built in closet that was against the far wall. She found lotions and hair brushes, nail clippers, etc., as well as a pair of gorgeous bathrobes.
Of course. No girlfriend, huh? Yeah. Right.
Grrrr, the voice inside her head was angry at the thought, and Violet squeaked out loud.
She shook her head, choosing to ignore this latest bit of weirdness, rifling through the shelves until she found a pair of white silk men’s pajamas. She had to admit if there was a woman in his life she wasn’t there very often because everything was tailored for a man’s needs as opposed to a woman’s, in other words, not one tampon in the place. Not that she needed one. And no, she wasn’t snooping! Well, not really.
He’d told her to help herself after all. She sighed as she touched the incredibly soft pj’s. There was no doubt they’d be big enough to fit her slightly overweight, er, fluffy body. The man was enormous after all. The only thing was, Violet was short at five-foot three-inches, and Dean was nearly seven-feet tall.
That could lead to some issues, she thought and frowned at the bottoms. No way could she put those on and walk around without falling on her face.
What to do?
She shrugged. Well, the good news was the top came down to midthigh and with the bathrobe over it, she was covered to her knees. Maybe she could ask him for a pair of sweatpants or something where the bottoms were tapered, she thought as she walked down the hall with her ruined clothes in her hands.
“Here let me take those,” Dean said startling her from behind.
“Oh,” she gasped as his fingers brushed hers while he took the clothes and placed them inside a woven laundry basket.
“I will just put these in the wash,” he whispered and nodded his head towards the sofa, “please sit. I made you some cocoa.”
“Thanks,” she said and smiled at the mug of hot chocolate.
He’d topped it with whipped cream and chocolate shavings and, sniff, he’d added a drop of something alcoholic.
She wondered how he knew that was how she liked it, but decided it was too good to pass up.
“I hope you don’t mind, I spiked it. I figured we could both use something to take the edge off,” he grinned as he walked back into the living room.
He was wearing a pair of jeans and a black tee, and damn, but he looked good enough to eat. Moisture pooled between her thighs and she closed her eyes tight to stem the need that was rising inside of her.
Yowza. Since when was she as hormonal as a teenager? Violet had had sex before, but her experience had been nothing to brag about. So, why was she so hot and bothered over him? And that was putting it mildly.
Easy girl. She didn’t know anything about him other than his name. Violet was not in the habit of bedding people she did not know and the man was a total and complete stranger.
Mine, growled the strange voice inside of her.
It was more insistent this time and when she closed her eyes, she swore she saw a pair of glowing golden eyes hovering around in her brain.
Oh shit.
“What is happening to me,” she whispered and put the cup of cocoa back down on the coffee table.
“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Look at me. You are okay, little one, you are safe with me,” he was kneeling in front of her with his big, warm hands wrapped around hers and before she could stop herself, Violet vaulted forward and crashed her mouth to his.