Chapter Four

 

 

It was well after midnight, but Jack couldn’t seem to pull himself away from the computer, or more accurately, the image currently displayed on the screen.

He had spent the last three hours learning everything he could about the woman sleeping in his brother’s bed.

Oriana had checked out. She wasn’t a spy.

Strangely enough, she was a veterinarian, or at least had been before she became a full-time pilot.

Smart and gorgeous.

Sadly, Oriana was truly alone in the world. Other than some distant relatives she didn’t keep in touch with, she was without any blood family. Her mother had died in childbirth, leaving Oriana to be raised by her father, who never remarried or had any other children.

When Oriana turned eighteen, she had moved to San Diego to attend college, and continued to live in California until about two years ago when she returned to her hometown of Kodiak to care for her ailing father. Six months later, he died of cancer.

Oriana then inherited her father’s small plane and transport business, and for the last year and half, had been shuttling tourists and cargo around the Kodiak Archipelago. She worked out of her father’s home, taking reservations and shipping requests via phone or internet.

Other than that, it seemed that since her return, she had busied herself with work and kept to herself. Nothing extraordinary.

It was a stark contrast to her life in California, where she had been a social butterfly. She had many friends, was engaged to a renowned animal surgeon, and had a great paying job working at her fiancé’s clinic, catering to the pets of the rich and famous. Then one day, about two months before she learned of her father’s illness, Oriana’s perfect life came to an abrupt end.

Thanks to Jack’s ability to hack into her ex-fiancé’s computer and e-mail accounts, he was currently staring at the reason why her engagement and her position at the clinic were terminated.

Jack studied the picture on his computer screen with a mixture of disbelief and desire. It seemed that while Oriana was in college, she also worked as a part-time model. This was not really a surprise, as she did have the body of a goddess. It was what she modeled that had Jack’s mouth watering and his cock erect to the point of pain.

She modeled fetish wear.

The photo in front of Jack, the one that was shown to the fiancé by his very well-off and politically connected parents, was of Oriana posing in a scene reminisce of a visit to the principle’s office back when schools still dished out corporal punishment.

Oriana sported pigtails and a little school girl outfit complete with thigh-high stockings and fuck-me heels. Bent over a desk with her little plaid skirt flipped up and her little white ruffle panties pulled down to her knees, a strapping male, dressed as a headmaster, was bringing a paddle down on her bare ass, which was already exhibiting a red blush from the supposed previous strikes.

While the scene itself was meant to arouse, capturing every man’s fantasy of the innocent girl who is secretly naughty, it was the expression on Oriana’s face that aroused him most—she looked as if she genuinely enjoyed the spankings.

“That one’s my favorite.”

Jack held himself in check, catching his body before it jerked around in surprise. He also resisted the urge to close the screen’s window like some basement-dwelling virgin whose mom just caught him whacking off to internet porn.

He heard Oriana’s soft footsteps approach.

She leaned over his shoulder and gazed at the monitor. “It was one of five photos used in a spread for a popular fetish magazine.”

“Why is this one your favorite?” he found himself asking, though he didn’t know why.

“For one, it’s the photo that prompted more modeling offers, thus I found enough work to pay for my own college tuition. I didn’t have to be a financial burden to my father any longer. Two, it was the most exciting, realistic photo session I’d ever done, and this photo captured the moment better than the others, in my opinion. The photographer was adamant that the scene look authentic. Instead of a male model, the photographer hired a real Dom, and that man...” She laughed lightly. “That man literally paddled the shit out of me. However, it allowed me to discover a side of myself I never knew existed. By the time the shoot was over, I was so hor— um, happy.”

She grew quiet and moved back.

Jack slowly turned his chair around to find Oriana had retreated to the doorway. Jon’s comforter was draped over her shoulders and she clutched it tightly, crossing it over so it cocooned her body.

“Third,” she continued, “that photo exposed the true character of a person I thought I knew and loved, and saved me from making the biggest mistake of my life.”

Looking past her beauty, and past the pieces of leaves and twigs still tangled in her hair, and the dirt smudges on face, Jack could see her feelings were hurt. She tried to hide it, but her eyes were glossy with the weight of the painful memories. She seemed so vulnerable at the moment, and his protective instincts kicked in. His heart thumped hard in his chest, both with the overwhelming need to gather her in his arms comfort her, and with the overpowering urge to smash his fist into the face of the man who had broken her heart.

“I think it’s a beautiful picture of you,” he murmured.

She offered him a small smile and a blush tinged her cheeks. “Thanks.”

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“Oh, no, you didn’t—I’m not. I’m actually flattered.” She took a deep breath. “The last person who talked to me about that photo didn’t have such nice things to say about it.”

Jack could imagine. He had read one e-mail the ex-fiancé sent to a friend calling Oriana everything from a deceitful bitch to a cheap whore. “That person doesn’t know his head from his ass. And he didn’t deserve you.”

“It was my fault. I should have told him about the photos before we started dating.”

“If he really loved you, it wouldn’t have mattered.”

She met his gaze. “You seem to know a lot about the situation.”

“I do,” he replied.

She didn’t seem angry or upset, just curious. Her gaze darted to Jon’s desk, then back to him. “Computer hackers?”

“You can say that.”

A mischievous gleam twinkled in her eyes. “So there’s no information that’s safe from you?”

“No.”

“That’s actually kind of cool.”

He smiled. “My name is Jack.”

“I know. I’m Oriana.”

“I know.”

“I’m sure you’re wondering what brought me here, and why I’m in your house.”

“You already told me.”

Her brow wrinkled in confusion. “Really? When?”

“Earlier today. You were groggy with sleep. You said your plane broke. My brothers, Jon and Jordan, will see if they can fix it. They’ll be back sometime tomorrow, hopefully with news that they were able to correct the problem.”

“Oh,” she breathed. “Thank you. That’s really nice of you all, considering I broke into your, um... bomb shelter.”

“Bunker.”

“Bunker,” she repeated slowly.

“Where you able to call out for help?”

“No, my radio’s broken and I couldn’t get your phones to work. Can I ask you a question?”

He nodded and waited for her to ask him why they lived in an underground bunker on federally protected land. He had already revealed too much of himself to her when he agreed to the hacker comment, and then affirmed her statement that no information was safe from him.

“Um, I don’t mean to be forward, but would you mind overly if I took a shower?”

Surprised by the simplicity of the request, he chuckled. “That’s it?”

She paused, humor crossing her features. “What did you think I was going to ask?”

“I thought you’d ask about why we live here in an old government bunker on a wildlife refuge, or something along those lines.”

Her eyebrows lifted and she looked around, as if taking in her surroundings. She then shook her head. “That’s not my business.”

The answer was as unexpected as it was pleasing.

“Do you need me to show you to the bathroom?” he asked.

“No, I found it when I got up. Fourth door down the hall.”

“Yeah, that’s it.” Jack turned back to his computer and began closing out the windows.

“Um, can I ask you another forward question?”

“Proceed.”

“May I borrow a shirt or something? I can’t seem to find my clothes.”

Locking his station, he rose from the chair. “Yeah, that’s my fault. I put them in the laundry. Let me get you something.”

She stood aside and let him pass.

After making a quick visit to his room, he returned moments later with an extra-large T-shirt and sweat pants. “There’s a closet in the bathroom where we keep the towels. You’ll find extra toiletry items, toothbrushes, deodorants, and so forth in the drawers. Take whatever you need.”

Oriana mumbled her thanks and gazed at her feet. She inhaled, then paused, holding her breath and holding back words. So he waited. And waited. When a full minute had passed and she’d done nothing more than occasionally peer at him from beneath her lashes, he moved to return to his chair.

Suddenly, her hand appeared on his forearm, stilling him, her fingers gently gripping, but stiff with tension.

“Yes?” he asked.

She slowly pulled her hand back, as if she suddenly worried that he might be offended. Uncertainty radiated off of her. “I have another request.”

“Okay, what is it?”

She bit her bottom lip. “Can you help me bathe?”

 

Like an old film reel, Oriana watched the expressions flicker across Jack’s face: confusion, indecision, apprehension, suspicion.

“Do you often ask strange men you just met to help you bathe?” he inquired dryly.

She forced a small smile. “I didn’t know you were strange. Just how strange are you? Should I be worried?”

His lips twitched. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” she conceded with a sigh. “I’m sorry. It’s not my intention to make you uncomfortable, and I swear I’m not trying to come on to you or anything. I know you don’t know me, and I ask that you forgive me for being so intrusive, but I am desperate for a shower. I normally wouldn’t have asked for your help, but I can’t…” Rather than try to explain further, she turned her back to him, then lowered the blanket.

She already knew what he was seeing. She had seen it herself in the mirror when she went to the bathroom. The skin on her back and ass were mottled in various shades of black and blue.

“My muscles are pretty stiff. I won’t be able to reach up to wash my hair or bend down to clean my legs,” she explained softly.

“I didn’t see that earlier. Had I known—”

“You couldn’t have known. I fell right before I came into the bunker. I imagine the bruises hadn’t colored yet.”

“You need to see a doctor. You could have broken something or have internal bleeding.”

She pulled up the blanket and turned back to him. “I’m fine, really. I can breathe without pain and I don’t have a fever. I’m just tired and bruised. It’s nothing a hot shower, some pain killers, and a good night’s sleep won’t fix”

He didn’t look convinced.

“I know you have a helicopter,” she continued, “but I really, really have no desire to travel to a hospital tonight. Please don’t make me go.”

He rubbed the back of his neck as if weighing her request. Finally, he pushed out a heavy breath. “Jordan is our emergency medical guy. I’d better go hunt him down and bring him back.”

Jack moved to leave, but she lightly pressed her palm to his hard chest to stop him. “Please, there’s no need.”

Having him so close made her realize how large a man he truly was. She stared straight ahead to where her hand rested, his chest muscles flexing slightly under her touch, his body heat seeping into her fingers. She felt the beat of his heart, smelled the faint scent of his cologne, and longed to press her whole body against him. She was so cold and tired that she barely resisted the urge to melt against his strength and beg him to hold her.

Loneliness, along with a need for comfort, washed over her. She’d almost forgotten what is was like to be near a man, let alone have to depend on one for something. Between the relationship-ending incident and her father’s illness, she’d been on own for a while—which was fine, as her father had raised her to be an independent person who could take care of herself. However, deep inside, she was still a woman with needs, and she realized how much she missed the simple things, such as male companionship.

Her fingertips gently caressed the material of his shirt, and she thought she felt the steady thumping of his heart speed up. Though independent by nature, she was secure enough in herself not to be embarrassed to ask for help when she needed it—even if it meant relying on the kindness of strangers. That was risky in this day and age, but she didn’t mind risk. It made life that much more exciting. But perhaps she was asking too much of the sexy Samaritan in front of her.

“Oriana,” he rasped, placing his hand over hers, halting her restless fingers.

“I just want to take a hot shower and go back to bed—if you don’t mind me staying the night,” she said softly. “I was only asking for your help with the shower. I will understand if you tell me no.”

His fingers wrapped around hers. “I will help you.”

“Thanks.” She exhaled in relief.

Still holding her hand, his free one came up and cupped her elbow as he guided her into the hallway.

After the seemingly interminable walk to the bathroom, Jack lowered the toilet seat and guided her to sit down. He then turned on the tub’s faucet and plugged the drain.

“Jack, I don’t know if I can take a bath. I might not be able to get down, or get back up.”

“A bath will be better for you than standing on your feet and having the water pound on your skin. I’ll help you in and out of the tub—if you don’t mind.”

“Sounds wonderful. Thank you again for doing this.”

“No worries.” Jack crouched down and opened the cabinet beneath the sink. He pulled out a bottle of bubble bath, a blowup bath pillow, scented shower gel and a mesh pouf.

Oriana raised her eyebrows.

“Not mine,” he grumbled. “Jon’s into this froo-froo stuff. He says he’s embracing the ‘metrosexual lifestyle’, whatever the hell that means.”

“Will Jon mind?”

Jack poured bubble bath into the steaming water. “No. He likes you.”

“Really? Why do you say that?”

“He asked if we could keep you.”

Though she never met the youngest brother, she could imagine him saying something cute like that. “I’m flattered to be...keepable.”

Jack’s fingers gently wrapped around her upper arm. He helped her to her feet, then tugged the blanket from her shoulders and tossed it into the corner. He guided her toward the tub.

“Um, I’m still dressed.”

“You don’t want to keep your bra and underwear on?”

Oriana shook her head. Hell no. I’ve been wearing these things for three days now.

“I can’t reach my bra clasp or pull my panties down completely,” she said aloud. “I need you to take them off for me.”

“Are you sure?”

“My desire to be clean far outweighs my modesty at this moment. I’m giving you full permission to remove all intimate apparel without fear of reprisal.”

Closing his eyes, he lifted his hands to reach around her.

Oriana stepped back. “Jack, stop.”

He opened eyes.

She smiled. “I don’t care if you see me. Hell, feel free to look your fill. I won’t be upset. I was a fetish model, remember? Do you have any idea how many people have seen me some state of undress?”

“You trust too easily. For all you know, I could be a serial rapist or a murderer.”

“I figure if you were going to rape and/or murder me, you would have already done so by now, or at least given some hint of such nefarious intentions. But since you haven’t harmed me—and have, in fact, gone above and beyond to help me, you’ve earned my trust. Does that make sense?”

“Do you have a preference of which garment I remove first?”

“None whatsoever.”

Jack’s gaze locked with hers as he reached one hand around her body and quickly unclasped the bra with nimble expertise. Never breaking eye contact, he slipped the straps off her arms and tossed the bra into the corner with the blanket.

“You’re quite the gentleman,” she remarked dryly.

“You have no idea.”

“Of the gentleman you are?”

“No. Of how hard it is to be one right now.”

Staring into her eyes, his warm thumbs deftly slipped in-between the fabric of her panties and the skin on her hips. He tugged them down over her thighs. Even as he lowered himself to pull the panties past her knees and off her feet, his gaze on hers remained unwavering. The panties joined the pile in the corner.

He straightened out. “Ready?”

She nodded.

Jack turned off the faucet. He then guided her to the tub, holding her firmly as she struggled to step into the water. After completing that agonizing task, she tried to descend, but was inundated with excruciating pain.

“I don’t this is going to work,” she groaned. “Let’s just do a shower.”

He repositioned his arms. “I’ll lower you.”

“No. I’m heavier than I look. What if you drop me?”

“I won’t drop you. Trust me.”

“Trust you?”

“Where’s that stalwart faith you had in me a few minutes ago?”

“Fine,” she bit out, relaxing her body and letting him bear her weight. “But so help me, if you drop me, I’ll be kicking your ass later.”

He effortlessly lowered her into the sea of white bubbles. “Such language from a lady,” he said under his breath, slipping the back pillow behind her

“So spank me. I never claimed to be a lady,” she muttered as she settled into the water and closed her eyes, relishing the heat that instantly eased her rigid muscles and the yummy aroma of piña colada.

“Another tempting offer. I can look my fill and spank you. Why can’t there be more women like you in the world?”

She opened her eyes and regarded him as he knelt beside the tub. Though his expression showed something akin to boredom, his eyes shined with humor. He was teasing her...or perhaps flirting with her.

Either was fine.

“It’s an expression. Like saying ‘so sue me’ or whatever. But since you seem so thrilled with the prospect, I won’t let you down. When I’m better, I’ll let you spank me, if you so desire.”

“You’re very...bold.”

“I like to think of myself as candid. I wasn’t always so—or I was, but used to hide it, behaving how others expected me to behave. I’m done with that. These days, I just want to be me.” She paused, considering her own words. “Do you think that’s wrong?”

“No. Would you like me to wash your hair or body first?”

“Hair.”

He rose and pulled the hand-held shower head off its holder, then turned the water on and saturated her hair thoroughly. Setting the nozzle aside, he poured shampoo into his palm. Oriana closed her eyes as he took his time lathering her head with coconut scented suds, massaging her scalp with firm pressure.

“Your fingers are magical,” she whispered.

As he continued, her mind drifted into the realm of possibilities, where she fantasized about his enthralling fingers producing more sensual pleasures. Between his ministrations and her erotic imaginings, her nipples tightened and her pussy tingled with wanting. By the time Jack rinsed the soap from her hair, she in a state of full-blown arousal.

Jack applied the conditioner next, slowly smoothing the cream along her strands, from root to tip. He repeated the process over and over again, his fingers coaxing sighs and moans from her lips—and she didn’t even care. Thankfully, he remained blessedly silent, not commenting on her wanton behavior, though she refused to open her eyes, afraid he would show some form of disapproval or discouragement in his expression.

By the second rinse, she barely restrained herself from begging him to fuck her good and hard. Damn, it had been far too long since she’d been touched by a man.

A few moments later, she felt his hands gently lift a leg. Still residing in her self-imposed darkness, she lost herself in the caresses of a soft, soapy mesh sponge as it glided across her skin in slow, steady strokes. Satisfied, he moved on to the other leg and gave it the same treatment, from the tips of her toes to mid thigh and back again.

Just as she felt that he was about to withdraw, she bit her bottom lip, not wanting him to cease his attentions, but not wanting to seem desperate by requesting that he keep going, lest he think her too easy.

She found herself asking anyway.

“Please don’t stop,” she whispered.

“You don’t want to do the rest yourself?”

When Oriana shook her head, he worked the mesh up her hips and across her torso, but no higher. She took a deep breath and pushed her chest out, silently indicating that he should attend that area as well.

Sensing his hesitation, she placed her hand over his and moved the puffy sponge back and forth over her breasts, her sexual desires overpowering any reservations she had about propriety. Unfortunately, the rubbing only served to whet the carnal cravings that resided within. She increased the pressure, writhing beneath the mesh material as it scrubbed over her taut nipples, which produced a delightful sting that shot rapid bursts of pleasure straight to her core. Her pussy throbbed, hovering near orgasmic bliss, but needing more stimulation to push her over the edge.

Intertwining her fingers with his, she guided the pouf down her length, and lower still, opening her thighs wide and brushing it against her swollen, sensitized nub. Up and down, up and down, harder and harder, she arched into it the mesh ball, gasping as she succumbed to a clitoral climax.

Flooded by the euphoric sensations that surged through her body, she clamped her thighs together and rode the waves of pleasure until she was limp and breathless.

Lost in a world of darkness and delight, she barely acknowledged Jack’s hand as it withdrew from between her legs. He lifted her out of the water and gathered her close to his chest. She laid her head on his shoulder as he put a towel across her body and carried her from the bathroom.

After a long walk down the hall, he placed her on a bed and began to carefully dry her off. Her fatigue had returned in full force. She was almost asleep when she absently felt a warm blanket cover her body.

It was not enough.

“Lay with me, please,” she murmured. “I’m cold.”

There was a moment of stillness, then the mattress dipped with his weight. Once again, she was gathered into his arms. She snuggled close to him, and her last thoughts before sleep fully claimed her were of how wonderful he smelled.