“So much for commanding.”
“Little one, do you need to call someone? Can you stay here?”
She sighed. “I don’t scoop the poop until tomorrow night.”
That’s TMI. Lance chuckled. “Glad we rate above the poop.”
“Hey, man, my sister’s got a cat. No man stands between a woman and her cat. Just saying.”
“I hear ya.”
Silence descended. Stryker placed the blanket over Viviana. They both watched her sleep for a few moments.
“This is creepy.”
“Yeah.”
“Cards?”
“What the hell. Let’s go.” Stryker stood and made his way toward the hall, flicking the light off as he went past it.
Tomorrow was soon enough to make their little submissive fly again.
Stryker paused in the hallway and turned. “You tell anyone you stayed here tonight and I’ll kill you.”
“Same to you.” Lance looked around. “Which room you want?”
“You take the left and I’ll take the right. Bathroom’s next to yours. Towels are in the cabinet. Extra toothbrushes and other shit are in there too.”
“What the fuck are you doing with that shit?”
“Chase’s OCD ass struck.” Stryker shook his head as he wound down the hall. “Gotta get that guy on some meds before he alphabetizes us.”
“I hear ya.”
Chapter Five
She’d fallen asleep. No, she’d passed out. Viviana cringed. A large, four-poster bed engulfed the room. A matching chest of drawers in a rich mahogany sat across the room. A locked footlocker clad in leather peeked out at the end of the bed.
Viviana swallowed. If this was Stryker’s place, there was no telling what was in there. A note was perched on the small nightstand.
Shower.
Supplies inside bathroom.
Breakfast waiting.
Obviously a man of few words. She made her way into the bathroom, trying hard not to contemplate what the hell all of this meant. She’d never, ever, ever fallen asleep at someone’s place. Would he be irate?
She’d passed out before they’d had another scene. The growing concern drew her focus away from the lush bathroom. A shower big enough for a football team took up a corner. An equally large spa-style tub sat in the other corner. She didn’t know much about countertops and accessories. She’d been surrounded by too many men growing up. But she did recognize expensive when she saw it.
Two towels sat beside the end basin. An unopened toothbrush, toothpaste, shower gel, shampoo, conditioner and a bath scrunchie were on top—along with an assortment of hairbrushes, combs, hairsprays and gels. She picked up the t-shirt draped over the basin and shook her head. Her brothers would have her ass for wearing a Cowboys’ jersey, but it was clearly what they’d wanted her to wear.
No underwear. Stryker and Lance seemed to have an aversion to it. Then again, they probably didn’t stock panties in assorted sizes. She glanced down at the unopened packages waiting for her and winced. Yeah, they probably did. They’d had everything else.
She padded into the shower and eventually figured out how to operate the multitude of buttons and dials. Okay, she could kill for a shower like this at her place. The pulsating jets massaged her achy muscles. God, it’d been too long since she’d had sex. Muscles she’d forgotten she had throbbed, begging for more.
Two weeks. Chase had agreed to a two-week membership for her, but what did that mean? And how the hell was she going to keep this from the busybodies at work? She needed a phone to call in sick. That’d buy a day or two if she hacked enough of a lung up or wheezed into the phone. Clarence and Mags lived to get her into trouble with Clint, but they were both hyper-vigilant germophobes.
She sighed at the loss of the awesome shower and wrapped herself up in the thickest towel she’d ever used. If she had a suitcase she’d steal it in a heartbeat. She’d expected to be more anxious.
Even though her stomach was tied into knots and her pulse had already begun to sprint a 10K marathon, an even bigger
“Little one, do you need to call someone? Can you stay here?”
She sighed. “I don’t scoop the poop until tomorrow night.”
That’s TMI. Lance chuckled. “Glad we rate above the poop.”
“Hey, man, my sister’s got a cat. No man stands between a woman and her cat. Just saying.”
“I hear ya.”
Silence descended. Stryker placed the blanket over Viviana. They both watched her sleep for a few moments.
“This is creepy.”
“Yeah.”
“Cards?”
“What the hell. Let’s go.” Stryker stood and made his way toward the hall, flicking the light off as he went past it.
Tomorrow was soon enough to make their little submissive fly again.
Stryker paused in the hallway and turned. “You tell anyone you stayed here tonight and I’ll kill you.”
“Same to you.” Lance looked around. “Which room you want?”
“You take the left and I’ll take the right. Bathroom’s next to yours. Towels are in the cabinet. Extra toothbrushes and other shit are in there too.”
“What the fuck are you doing with that shit?”
“Chase’s OCD ass struck.” Stryker shook his head as he wound down the hall. “Gotta get that guy on some meds before he alphabetizes us.”
“I hear ya.”
Chapter Five
She’d fallen asleep. No, she’d passed out. Viviana cringed. A large, four-poster bed engulfed the room. A matching chest of drawers in a rich mahogany sat across the room. A locked footlocker clad in leather peeked out at the end of the bed.
Viviana swallowed. If this was Stryker’s place, there was no telling what was in there. A note was perched on the small nightstand.
Shower.
Supplies inside bathroom.
Breakfast waiting.
Obviously a man of few words. She made her way into the bathroom, trying hard not to contemplate what the hell all of this meant. She’d never, ever, ever fallen asleep at someone’s place. Would he be irate?
She’d passed out before they’d had another scene. The growing concern drew her focus away from the lush bathroom. A shower big enough for a football team took up a corner. An equally large spa-style tub sat in the other corner. She didn’t know much about countertops and accessories. She’d been surrounded by too many men growing up. But she did recognize expensive when she saw it.
Two towels sat beside the end basin. An unopened toothbrush, toothpaste, shower gel, shampoo, conditioner and a bath scrunchie were on top—along with an assortment of hairbrushes, combs, hairsprays and gels. She picked up the t-shirt draped over the basin and shook her head. Her brothers would have her ass for wearing a Cowboys’ jersey, but it was clearly what they’d wanted her to wear.
No underwear. Stryker and Lance seemed to have an aversion to it. Then again, they probably didn’t stock panties in assorted sizes. She glanced down at the unopened packages waiting for her and winced. Yeah, they probably did. They’d had everything else.
She padded into the shower and eventually figured out how to operate the multitude of buttons and dials. Okay, she could kill for a shower like this at her place. The pulsating jets massaged her achy muscles. God, it’d been too long since she’d had sex. Muscles she’d forgotten she had throbbed, begging for more.
Two weeks. Chase had agreed to a two-week membership for her, but what did that mean? And how the hell was she going to keep this from the busybodies at work? She needed a phone to call in sick. That’d buy a day or two if she hacked enough of a lung up or wheezed into the phone. Clarence and Mags lived to get her into trouble with Clint, but they were both hyper-vigilant germophobes.
She sighed at the loss of the awesome shower and wrapped herself up in the thickest towel she’d ever used. If she had a suitcase she’d steal it in a heartbeat. She’d expected to be more anxious.
Even though her stomach was tied into knots and her pulse had already begun to sprint a 10K marathon, an even bigger
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