Claire: The Forced Virgin Of The Billionaire

Drake’s POV

She needed to stop looking at me like that. When she forgot to hide her emotions she had a very expressive face and it was speaking loud and clear to me right now. She was having some sort of hero worship side effect or some s**t like that and it needed to damn well stop. I was not taking advantage of what those scumbag motherfuckers had done to her for my own carnal satisfaction. No way.

I turned the tap off, “There’s probably some ointment in my medicine cabinet. Let’s go look.”

She followed me into the bedroom and then the master bath and I regretted that because being in there with her the s****l tension was real. There was a tube of first aid cream in my medicine cabinet. Rosita kept that stocked, too. I smeared some on the back of her hand. I examined the burn. It didn’t look too bad; she probably wouldn’t blister. Our eyes met again. Okay, I had to make this stop.

Letting it go there was not an option. I wasn’t taking advantage of this girl. I wasn’t ever gonna be a choir boy but I didn’t wanna abandon my new motto of Man w***e No More. To take advantage of her in her current state of mind was lower than man w***e. It was scumbaggery.

I heard my cell text alert go off so it broke the tension and I headed to grab it, saying, “Put that ointment on your legs or stomach if you’re burnt there, too.”

It was Zack and he’d pulled in to the underground. I replied to tell him I’d be down in two minutes. I cleared the broken cup and spilled coffee from the kitchen floor and then poured a new coffee and brought it into my bedroom. Felicia was still in the washroom. I called her name and she peaked out from the opened door.

“There’s a clean robe or clothes in my closet if you wanna grab something to wear for now. I brought you another coffee. Take a bath or shower if you want. Can you hang in here and watch TV or something for a bit? My PI is here and he and I are gonna sweep our belongings for bugs down in my Explorer and then we’ll be up. When we come back up I’ll have him double check your bag, shoes, and that necklace.”

She nodded, looking shell-shocked, still. I put the coffee on the nightstand and left the room. I set the alarm on my way out. Just in case.

* ** **

Zack had proven himself invaluable over the last several months to the point he’d become a buddy to me as well as our PI. He checked and said that everything was clear of bugs and tracking devices, including the sapphire necklace, which was genuine and worth a small fortune. I had my luggage checked as well while I filled him in on the details of the trip.

Maybe they weren’t suspicious of me. But I wasn’t taking chances because I knew they could be watching. I also knew that a select few were at least somewhat aware of the rift in the final days of Uncle’s life and news could travel that far and if it did, even as a rumor, we’d be under suspicion eventually.

As far as Stan went he knew too much and was too far away for me to keep an eye on so I had to bear that in mind. With Uncle gone his loyalties could easily change, particularly if he had no ties to me because I’d stopped using him.

I needed to retain him as a lawyer at least until all this s**t was over with. Uncle had another local lawyer and that’s who he worked with when he temporarily froze Azriel out.

Me and Zack talked to my brother on webcam in my den and agreed that depending on how we played out exits from the businesses we did not want to be in this could mean that transition would take a whole lot longer than we’d hoped. And if it all started to go to hell the whole damn family would have to slip off the grid. Azriel said he’d work on that contingency plan.

f**k, Uncle; you’re still f*****g with us, even from the grave.

Zack was gathering intel about the people on the list of names I gave him and we were gonna re-group later to come up with a plan. After we said goodbye to my brother I saw Zack to the door and then I checked on her. She was in my room, watching television in my bed. She was in a pair of my grey on grey checked flannel pajamas, a pair I’d never worn but got given for Christmas last year. They were huge on her. She was watching cartoons, looking small in my big dark wood sleigh bed buried under my big wine-colored comforter.

I sat on the the bed, “How you doin’?”

“Fine.”

She probably wasn’t fine.

“Is it okay I chose these to wear?” she asked, looking up innocently at me, giving me a pang of something, I didn’t know what.

“Sure; I brought your things up. They’re in the den and everything is clean, no surveillance or GPS devices. Listen, we have to talk about a few things. You feelin’ up to that?”

There was no big rush provided she wasn’t in a huge hurry to move on. She winced.

“Will you try for me?” I asked.

She looked at me with what looked like stars in her eyes.

I gritted my teeth for a sec and then forced myself to continue, “I know you’ve been through a lot. I don’t know but I do know, you know? f**k, okay, first question, are there people looking for you? Family?”

She was quiet a moment but then answered me.

“No,” she whispered.

“No family?” I asked.

She shook her head and looked to the comforter, tried to mask her pain, but I saw it. I wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth or not.

“Did they kidnap you while you were on vacation in Thailand or something? Is that how they got you?”

She shook her head. My stomach churned. Did this girl volunteer? There were those that did, those who wanted to be looked after, who came from poverty or who were so damaged they thought that someone making all the decisions for them was their anecdote.

She must’ve read my sickened expression as she shook her head vigorously, “I was there for work, taken in, blackmailed, and there was no escape.”

“Ah,” I felt relief. Maybe I shouldn’t have but I did. The idea that I’d brought back someone who wanted that for herself? That’d be beyond my comprehension. And for a split second before she said she’d been blackmailed her behavior flashed in my mind and I was glad to have confirmation that it was a product of her so-called training rather than her behavior being something that was a result of her preferences.

“My PI says they’ve probably microchipped you. Do you know if they have?”

She nodded.

“Right. We’ll get that dealt with as soon as is feasible. So I wanted to make sure you weren’t in a hurry to get back to Alaska. I don’t want you to think of yourself as being in prison. We can sort things out for you; I’ll help you get on your feet and eventually, not sure how long it’ll take, but eventually you’ll be able to get on with your life. It’ll probably mean a new identity, you might not be able to go back to Alaska, but we have to wait and see what happens. You say there’s no family there but are you okay with that?”

“I could live the rest of my life and never step foot back there,” she said softly.

“So you’re okay to stay here for the time being?”

She nodded. Then she looked like she wanted to say something else. She didn’t.

“Anything you need, you tell me, okay? De-stress, detox, whatever, and we’ll figure things out as we go. I know you’ve probably been through hell so if you want counseling I can arrange that for you but it’ll have to be done carefully for confidentiality. I can arrange counseling over the computer, privately. You wanna go out, I’ll have a driver take you, keep you safe while we sort everything. You can’t tell anyone where you’re from, what’s happened to you. We’ll come up with a cover story. I’m in the loop, though, on everything with you until I say different. You’re not my prisoner Felicia, but you keep me in the loop. I’m accountable for your actions as long as we’re on Kruna radar. Got me?”

She nodded.

“Help me out, here, angel. I need to know you get me, that you’re not nodding because you’ve been trained to. This is serious s**t we’re talking about here.”

She stared at me for a beat, just blinking at me, then took a deep breath, “I understand, Drake. I’ll be good. I won’t try to leave. I won’t contact anyone from my past. I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” Her lower l*p quivered. I put my hand on her shoulder and squeezed. She dropped her head to the side so that her cheek was resting on the top of my hand. I snatched my hand back. Her expression dropped.

“Good. Thank you. It’s the best way to make sure we’re safe. So, uh, help yourself to anything in the kitchen. Watch TV, whatever. Mi casa su casa. I’m working from here today and I’ve got a lot on the go the next few days so I’ll be in and out. Anything you want, need, lemme know.”

I headed to my closet and grabbed clean clothes and then headed for a shower.

** ** **

As it got dark I emerged from my den where I’d been working and found her sitting on a stool at the island staring at the blue sapphire necklace. Zack and I had left it there with her bag. Suddenly hunger clawed at my gut and I realized I hadn’t eaten all day. And although I’d told her to eat I suspected she hadn’t either.

“I was thinking of ordering take-out. You like Chinese food?” The second it was out of my mouth I winced, realizing how idiotic it was, “Wait. s**t. I know that’s not the same as Thai but it’s probably too close. How about we order some pizza, get you some fettuccine alfredo?”

She smiled. It wasn’t one of her fake ones, I don’t think. It was beautiful.

“My family owns an Italian restaurant; I’ll have food sent over. Anything you don’t like to eat?”

“I could go the rest of my life without plain rice but no, not particularly.”

“Have you had anything to eat today?” I asked.

She shook her head, not making eye contact.

“Sorry for not taking better care of you,” I said, catching her eyes, “I get working and time slips. Don’t wait for me, okay? Make yourself at home here. If I’m here we can grab something at night together but if I’m not, help yourself. You can also get food delivered from the restaurant whenever. I have a tab. I’ll leave you a menu.”

“Thank you.”

I almost wanted to take off back into the den to avoid her. This was awkward. But I’d left her by herself all day and thought it’d be rude. Besides, I needed to gauge her frame of mind, too, so I’d know how alert I’d have to be here in my apartment.

“So you wanna watch a movie or somethin’? We can throw something on to watch while waiting for food.”

“That sounds good.”

I motioned toward one sofa and took the other one.

Felicia’s POV

He was in faded jeans and a soft-looking gray t-shirt. He looked good in jeans. He looked good in shorts. He looked good in a suit, man he looked good in a suit. And he looked damn good in those low rise track pants. It took a lot of hot for a guy to look good in sweats and Drake Clarke owned hot in those sweats. But most of all, he personified all that was hot in those boxer briefs in the mornings. He was buff. He also had this way, this intensity in the way he carried himself. He drew attention. He had to get female attention wherever he went.

It was a weird day. I was used to being alone. At the resort I’d spend hours alone waiting for an assignment. There was a little socializing with the other slaves but Cleo hated me so much that the others generally avoided me so they wouldn’t get lumped in with me and face her wrath.

So I was used to my own company, something I would never have said before Thailand but since becoming Felicia I was used to being alone. Not alone with the freedom to change the channel, not able to eat whatever and whenever I wanted, and so forth. I still hadn’t fully wrapped my brain around my new circumstances. It was a lot to swallow. Today had been really weird.

Drake put The Hobbit on. It was a switch to watch something that wasn’t porn. I almost giggled at one point because I started imagining the hobbits doing it. I got my mind off that by glancing in his direction and seeing him flex his biceps to put his hands behind his head, which got me thinking about him having s*x. Dang. I started to get hot under the collar.

A little while in I heard a buzzer and he paused the movie and then went to the wall near the door where there was an intercom. A few minutes later he answered a knock on the door and a teenaged boy stepped in, gave me a wave, and put a big pizza box and a large paper bag with twine handles on the island. He and Drake spoke in what must’ve been Italian for a minute and then Drake reached into his pocket to fetch out some cash and put it in the kid’s hand and then ruffled his hair and then the boy was on his way, waving at me on his way out.

Drake brought the food to the table, then brought over a bottle of wine and two glasses, and then he flicked the movie back on while he started putting food out.

I ate while watching the movie, for the first time in almost two years not overly conscious of what I was eating and really enjoying the food. I don’t think it was just because it’d been two years since I’d had pizza that this was the best pizza I’d had in my life, hands down.

He paused the film after the meal to step out to the balcony to smoke a cigarette, which was nice since it was his apartment. I didn’t know if he did it for my benefit or because he preferred smoking outdoors, but when he came back in he cleared the leftovers away and put them in the fridge. I felt lazy. And full. I felt like I should be doing something. But it all felt so weird. He stretched out on the one couch so I followed suit and laid down on the one I was on.

** ** **

I woke up when the credits were rolling. I was asleep on the one sofa and he was asleep on the other. But there was a soft gray blanket over me so he must’ve put it on me while I was asleep and the idea of that gave me a twinge in my chest.

He was so handsome. And asleep he didn’t look at all pissed off like he usually did. Then again, he was probably pissed off because he had to deal with me. I was a complication in his life.

He was asleep on his back, his t-shirt riding up, his hand flat on his bare chiseled abs. God, he had sexy hands.

I could see his blond happy trail and his jeans were low, showing the start of the V heading down to his groin. His feet were now bare, his socks laying across the arm of the sofa by his feet. My eyes lazily took him in from toe to head and then back down to the happy trail. My mouth started to water and I squirmed. When I’d taken him in my mouth the other morning it was awesome. He was well-endowed. He was well-groomed down there. And the feel of his strong sexy hands in my hair while his c**k was in my mouth? It had me wet and ready. More than ready.

But he’d been asleep and my doing that pretty much amounted to s****l assault. It’d been wrong. But I’d woken up to him looking beautiful and sleeping again with me cradled against him and so I wanted to wake him up in a way that showed my appreciation as well as ensured he’d want me. But he’d been angry. And now I knew why. He wasn’t there to collect his slave; he was there to deal with a mess put on his shoulders by his deceased uncle. He gets saddled with me, a dirty and broken human being, and I’m all stammering, begging for s*x, and being a pain in his butt.

But s*x was all I knew anymore. I knew almost nothing anymore of who I was before Thailand. I only knew A to B. Screw them good and make them happy. Screwing them good generally did make them happy. It meant I didn’t get punished, and it helped me get and then stay on course, a course of staying on the short list and not being subjected to corrections or retraining for non-compliance, and because of that, maybe that’s why I got off on it.

It was who I had to be and every small A to B victory meant success so I got off on it in some dysfunctional twisted way. I’d always been s****l. Always. Even as a small girl. And the Kruna scouts knew how to spot it and their trainers sure knew how to exploit it. And somehow I used it. I used my sexuality to get myself out of there.

I looked back up from his happy trail to his face and he was now awake and watching me. He was watching me ogle him. Our eyes locked. I moistened my lips and tried to settle myself down. I was probably flushed. I was so aroused right now. I wanted him, wanted him bad.

“Jetlag,” he mumbled.

“Yeah,” I rasped.

He stretched, “Wanna crash?”

I think I nodded.

He got up, “You take my bed.” He stretched again as he walked to his alarm panel by the door and hit some buttons that beeped and the sight of his muscled arms and back as he stretched revved me up even further.

“But the futon sucks,” I answered softly.

“Yeah, the futon sucks.”

“I can sleep on the futon,” I said but was hoping he wouldn’t make me sleep alone in there.

“Naw, I’ll be fine.” He massaged the back of his neck with a wince and I knew he was thinking about how uncomfortable of a sleep that futon would be, “Maybe the couch is better,” he said.

“It’s pretty comfy. I can just sleep here. You take your bed.”

“Naw, you take the bed.” He was staring at me.

“We could both sleep in your bed again,” I offered.