Island Stripe Pride - Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Mine,a strange yet familiar voice whispered inside of her, and Violet almost choked.
What was happening to her? She backed up and Dean removed the bottle from her mouth, placing it on the table with a low click. Violet had to distance herself before she really did something embarrassing she thought and set her feet on the smooth wood floor.
She stood up and ignored his outstretched hand. Touching him now would be a mistake. Looking down she realized that someone, him, must have taken her shoes off she thought idly as she tried to get her emotions under control.
She felt hot and restless. Like something inside of her was itching to get out and take over. Her heart squeezed inside of her chest, her stomach flip-flopped, and she was having trouble breathing. She tried to suck in a deep breath but was too close to panicking to succeed.
“Easy. Slow breaths.”
Oh my, she thought as more of his incredible scent filled her nostrils. Pine trees and cool, clean snow.
She loved the way it tickled her senses and made her want to bury her nose close to its source. She wanted to strip off her clothes and rub herself all over him, to absorb his scent into her skin.
Wait. What? Since when did she want to roll around with a complete and total stranger?
Not stranger. Mate.
“What is that?”
She whimpered, and clutched her head while her heart hammered rapidly inside her chest.
“Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not. Uh, I think I might be sick. Thank you for taking care of me, but I need a doctor, an ambulance, something. Did you call someone?”
Okay, she was getting hysterical but Dean just held his hands up in a calming gesture.
“Easy, little one. It’s okay. I am sorry but I specifically did not bring a phone this trip because I wanted to get away for the holiday and I didn’t want anyone to find me.”
“Oh, I am so sorry, I ruined your vacation.”
“Not at all. You have made it completely worthwhile. The snow is really starting to come down and even if I did have a phone, you’re not going to be able to get anyone out here now,” he continued reasonably.
“I, uh, maybe I can walk?” she said and knew from the expression on his face that it was a bad idea.
“Sweetheart, we are twenty miles outside of town, in the woods, and in the middle of a bad winter storm on Christmas Eve. The roads are all closed already, I saw State Troopers closing them when I arrived here and that was about six hours ago,” he pointed to the windows and she could see the snow falling and wind howling outside.
It was a veritable blizzard. Shit. That meant Violet was stuck indoors with a sexier-than-any-one-man-should-be-allowed-to-be stranger and a weird, possessive, sex-crazed voice talking to her from inside her head.
OMG! Maybe she was nuts or dying? Maybe she’d banged her head harder than either of them knew?
“Look, I don’t mean to sound crazy, but I, I’m hearing voices, I really think I need to go to the hospital.”
“If you just calm down, I will explain, okay?” he said and looked very concerned about her well-being.
Of course he does, I’m a raving lunatic, and this is his house. Shit. Shit. SHIT!
“It’s so weird because I feel fine, I mean I know I should be hurt or aching, I mean look at my shirt,” she pulled the ugly Christmas sweater she’d worn to work that day and looked at the blood-splattered thing in horror.
“Easy, it’s okay, love. Look there is a bathroom at the end of the hall. In the cabinet you will find a bathrobe and slippers and some brand new pajamas still in the package. Please, help yourself to all of it. I will grab some of my own clothes from the bedroom, and meet you back here when you are finished and we will talk this all through, okay?”
Oddly enough, Violet nodded at him, suddenly calm though she had been close to hysterics mere moments ago. For some reason, the big man with his deep voice and glittering seafoam eyes had the strangest effect on her.
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 its 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 mid-thigh 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, putting 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.
She couldn’t control herself. She wanted to rub her entire body along his. To feel every inch of his heavily muscled frame under her fingernails, her mouth, her sex.
Yes, yes, yes! Violet wanted him with something akin to violence.
She wanted to devour him with her mouth, like she was currently doing. Sucking on his tongue only made her long for that big, hard cock she knew he possessed between his thick, muscular thighs.
That deliciously hard appendage pulsed and throbbed beneath her and she pressed herself more fully against him, damning the jeans that separated them. Fucking hell, she was grinding herself on him like a cat in heat, but he didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he seemed to like it.
His python-like arms held her tightly as he angled her head to have better access to her mouth.
Fucking hell, he kissed like a god. Of course, he did, he looked like one for Pete’s sake! Their tongues twisted and tangled together. Every moan, grunt, and growl propelled her further into passion and she pulled on his hair, demanding more, wanting all of him.
Violet tasted every sweet nuance of his own personal flavors during their shared kiss and not just the hint of chocolate and rum from the cocoa he’d obviously sipped. No, she tasted him down to his pine scented, snow fresh core. That essence that was so uniquely his, and so perfectly suited to her.
Mine, growled the voice again and Violet moaned, pushing against his chest in horror as she realized she’d just jumped the guy.
“What the hell is going on?” she yelled, slapping a hand over her mouth and backing off of him until her ass hit the floor and her back leaned against the bottom of the sofa.
“There is something growling around in my head and so help me, I want to rip your clothes off and have sex with you right on this floor, but that is so not me. Now, did you spike the food? Did you roofie me? Please tell me what the hell is happening?” she demanded.
“Okay, okay. Easy, we can talk,” he said sitting up and looking deliciously rumpled.
No, bad girl! She scolded herself and raised a hand when he moved to get closer to her.
“You’re fine right there, buddy. Not one inch closer. Now talk!” she growled.