The Hunted (15 page)

He kissed my forehead and carefully placed my feet on the floor.  He then scraped all of my hair off my face and reached for his shampoo.  He poured a little into his palm and then proceeded to massage it into my hair, lifting up all of the lengths so that my hair was piled up on top of my head.  I reached out and took his body wash, poured some in my hands and began to wash his chest.  My fingertips traced the outline of his well defined muscles and I marveled at the strength of this man.  Perhaps, I wondered idly, enforced celibacy could be the answer to the world’s obesity problem. 
Thank god, I enjoy running.  I wouldn’t like to have to pursue that course of action!!

My hands moved down to his stomach and I watched in amusement as his cock twitched in anticipation.  I couldn’t believe that he was hard again already!  I helped myself to more body wash and began to soap his balls gently.  Our eyes locked as he massaged my scalp and I massaged his cock.  I took my time until he grunted “Enough!” and spun me around to face away from him.  He then positioned my head so that the stream of water washed the shampoo out of my hair.  I gasped when soapy hands reached around and cupped my breasts.  He then proceeded to wash me, taking much longer with certain parts of my body, I noticed! 

He allowed me to wash his hair and his back and, when we were both soap free, he turned off the shower.  He made me smile when he wrapped a huge, fluffy towel around both of us and asked me to hold it up whilst he gently towel dried my hair with a hand towel. 

We shuffled and giggled our way back into the bedroom, still enveloped in the towel.  Lucas disappeared into the other door that led off his bedroom and emerged with a tee shirt.  He handed it to me to wear in lieu of nightclothes.  I said that I could just wear one of his pajama shirts but he just grinned and said that he didn’t own any. 
Oh - that means that he sleeps naked.  Will I be sleeping here, in his bed with him next to me - naked? 
I wondered exactly how much sleep we would get.

I pulled on the tee shirt and tried my best to comb my hair with my fingers.  Lucas laughed and passed me a comb to use.  Whilst I was fighting the tangles in my hair, Lucas appeared at my side, a hairdryer in his hand.  “Here, let me,” he said, holding his hand out for the comb. 

He proceeded to comb out the remaining tangles with surprising gentleness.  He then plugged in the hairdryer and gestured for me to sit on the chaise.  He began to dry my hair but the view was just too tempting for me.  Several times I reached out to touch him but each time he batted my hands away.  Eventually, he turned the hairdryer off and wrapped the towel around his hips.  “Better?” he said sarcastically.  “Do you think you will be able to resist me now?”

“Well, if you weren’t taking so long-”

“Issy, you’ve had a nasty bump to the head today.  I am trying to avoid hurting you.”

“Lucas, my head is fine, stop worrying.  God only knows how long it takes you to do your own hair so that you get that ‘just fucked’ look.  Come to think of it, when I first saw you I had half assumed that your hair was like that because you were just fucked.  But if you were celibate, then you must style it like that.  It must take you ages.”

“It takes a couple of minutes - I just blast it,” he shrugged.

“Hmmmm.  No way.  I know how long it takes to style hair and there is no way that you could just blast it.”

He raised an eyebrow.  “A little bit of styling wax and a blast of hot air and that’s it … done.  You should try it.”

“I don’t believe you.  Come on, show me.  Blast your waxed hair and show me it only takes a couple of minutes.”
 

He clutched his chest and staggered to the bed. 
“Ooh.  Your assumption that I am being untruthful is wounding, Miss Prince.  I tell you what, how about a little wager?  If I am telling the truth, I get carte blanche in our next sexual encounter.  If I am lying, you get to take the initiative and I have to follow your wishes.”

I thought for a second.  “That’s a bet that I am going to have to take, Mr Hunter.  I don’t see how I can lose … even if I lose.”

He gave a hearty laugh then shook his head.  “You are a wanton woman!  Okay then, you’re on.”

He strode off into the bathroom again and returned with a small pot of styling wax.  He dipped his finger in and then proceeded to rub it into both palms.  Then he smoothed his hands over his damp hair.  He shot me a wicked grin as he turned on the hairdryer.  He switched to full power and blasted his hair for a minute or so.  Then he switched the hairdryer off, bent his head over and ran his fingers through his hair. 

He stood up and
oh my god!
his hair was absolutely perfect - he did indeed look at though he had rolled out of bed after just having sex. 

“Just fucked enough for you, madam?” he enquired arrogantly.  “Do I take your open mouthed lack of response as an affirmative?” 

I hastily closed my mouth and glared at him.  “That is so unfair!”

“What that I win the bet and get to do whatever I want to you?”

“No … well, yes - that too, but I meant it was unfair that you get to look so perfect in a couple of minutes.  It takes me ages!”

He cocked an eyebrow.  “Perfect eh?  So you think I am perfect?” A lazy grin was steadily stealing over his face.

“I said you looked perfect.  Looks can be deceiving!” I raised an eyebrow to mirror his own.

“Ah, I’ll settle for you thinking that I only look perfect for now.  And anyway, what’s to say that your hair won’t look perfect in two minutes … it could be all in the styling!”

He picked up the pot of wax and rubbed some into his palms.  As he reached out his hands I muttered that I didn’t think that it was a good idea but he pretended not to hear.  He gently smoothed the wax over my hair, from root to tip, and then began to blast it with the hairdryer.  A few minutes later, he commanded me to stand and bend forward, as he had done.  He then ran his fingers through my hair before returning me to an upright position and demanding that I shook my head.  I obeyed and he stood back, hands on his hips.

“Well?”  I demanded, looking around and realizing that there were no mirrors in the room.

“You definitely look like you’ve just been fucked!” he smirked.

“Where is there a mirror?”

He led me through a door into a huge dressing room.  On one side, was a long rail full of smart work attire, suits and shirts, with shoes arranged neatly underneath.  The other side consisted mainly of drawers with two tall cupboards.  On the wall opposite me was a full length mirror.  I gasped when confronted by my reflection.  I looked like I was on my way to a 1980s themed party - my hair was huge. 

“This had better not be how I look when I fuck or I am never fucking ever again!” I hissed, hastily trying to flatten it.

I heard Lucas chuckling but, as I turned to give him a piece of my mind, I realized that he’d left the room.

Despite my best efforts, my hair still looked appalling.  I took my emergency hair supplies from my purse and put my hair into two pigtails, thinking that would have to do.

I wandered back into the empty bedroom to find that the candles had been blown out and a lamp turned on.  Lucas’ iPod was no longer playing either - it had been removed from the dock.  A glance at the bedside alarm clock showed that it was just after 10pm.  I yawned, realizing how tired I was and went in search of him.

The living room was empty and silent so I continued down the hallway towards the dining room.  As I neared, I could hear music faintly.  I smiled, he really did love music. 
Did his iPod accompany him everywhere? 
When I reached the dining room, it too was empty but a door on the far side of the room was ajar I could hear Green Day’s Good Riddance (Time of Your Life).

I crossed the room and, as I reached for the door handle, I realized that that it was not just Billie Joe Armstrong that I could hear.  I stood still, not wanting him to know I was there in case he stopped singing.  He was good.  Better than good - he was amazing. 
Who’d have thought! Was there anything that this man couldn’t do?
 

After a minute or so, I pushed open the door.  Lucas was stood with his back to me, barefoot and wearing only a pair of black cropped combats.  He looked so different in them … I was so used to power suited Lucas, or smart casual Lucas.  This was something else. 
God, his toned back was sexy as hell … and those combats look to be just about hanging onto his hips.  Hmmmm.
He immediately turned, smiled and stopped singing. 
I knew he‘d stop!
 

“Don’t stop.  You’ve got a good voice,” I urged.

He ignored me and picked up two tiny tubs of ice-cream off the counter.  “Want one?  I was bringing you one.”

“Thanks but it’s getting late.  I thought I should come and speak to you about sleeping arrangements.”

He frowned and put the tubs back on the counter.  “What sleeping arrangements?”

“Ours,” I replied, thinking that surely it was obvious.

“Oh.  Well, I had assumed that you would be sharing my bed.  But if you’d rather I slept on the sofa, while you have my bed …”
 

“
Of course I wouldn’t rather you slept on the sofa!” I cried.

“Well, where do you suggest I sleep?” he said, looking very serious.

“I … um … I just didn’t want to assume that you intended for me to sleep with you.” 

He pursed his lips.  “Issy, I have spent the night in your bed.  After what we did on my bed earlier today, I can’t imagine that sleeping in it with me would cause you any problems.”

I could feel the color creeping into my cheeks.  “Um, yes … well, I think I will turn in for the night, if that’s okay.”

“But it’s only 10pm, I’m usually still working. This is early for me.”

“Oh, that’s okay.  Don’t let me stop you.  I think I’ll turn in anyway.”
 

“
Issy, are you feeling okay?  Is your head hurting?” He came closer and took my hand.  I was taken aback by his genuine concern for my wellbeing. 

“No. No, I’m fine.  I just don’t want to impose and it’s been quite a day.  A day full of surprises. I feel a little weird, if I‘m honest.”

I saw tension in Lucas’ jaw and his eyes narrowed slightly.  “Is this because of me?  Are you feeling railroaded?  I know I pushed and … oh god, I knew I shouldn‘t have put pressure on you.  Issy, I‘m sorry-”

“Shush!  Lucas, you must stop this. Yes, you were pushy but I make my own choices and I stand by them.  God knows, if you hadn’t pushed then I wouldn’t have even considered it.  This is all so new to me.  I feel that I’ve been on an emotional rollercoaster all day … well, for the last few days.  I just need a little time to adjust, that’s all.”

“Are you sure?  You took such a bang on the head.  I’m meant to be watching over you and if anything happened, I‘d never forgive myself and-”

“Lucas!  My head is fine. Well, it isn’t the bump on the head that is making me feel odd, it’s what’s going on inside.  I’m not used to anyone caring for me.”

“So me caring about you is freaking you out?”

“To be honest, yes.  But that’s my issue to resolve in my own time.  There’s nothing you can do except give me time to adjust.”

“If I’m honest, me caring about you was freaking me out too,” he said with a little smile.

“Was?”

“Well, yeah.  When I realized that I wanted you, it scared the hell out of me,” he admitted.

“But you’re not freaked out by it now?”

“No.  I guess that I’m more scared of you walking out of my life now.  Caring for you is instinctive.  I don’t have to think about it; it just happens naturally so maybe I don’t have chance to freak out.  I don’t know exactly.  I just know that I’m more bothered about losing you than I am about having a relationship now.  If you’d predicted this a week ago even, I would have shot you down in flames.”