—Shelly—
A cold wet sensation caresses my skin, waking me from what feels like the longest nap on the planet.
My nipples grow hard as the sensation continues to wreak havoc on my body. I can feel a smile stretching across my face as I open my eyes to see a brutally sexy beast of a man staring at me as he tortures me with an ice cube.
His lips part and he grunts. “You’re awake.”
I look around the room not recognizing my surroundings. Fear spikes in my veins replacing the pleasure. I don’t know who this guy touching me is. I don’t know where I am.
…I don’t know who I am…
I shrink back away from him, pulling my knees toward me along with the blanket as I move to sit up against the headboard. My throat feels dry and I blink my eyes a few times hoping for clarity to prevail.
“You okay?”
“I…I don’t know,” I answer honestly as tears threaten to fall. “I…I don’t.” My voice cracks as the first tear escapes. “Where am I?” He gives me a cross look. “Who are you?” More importantly, who am I? I wonder silently.
A dull ache pulses at my temple. Cautiously, I bring my hand up and touch the sore spot.
“Hey…easy now. You hit your head pretty fucking hard. Wasn’t sure if you were gonna wake up,” his husky and rough voice wraps around me, familiar in tone.
I wince when I poke the sorest spot.
“So, you thought teasing my nipples with ice was a good idea?”
He shrugs, rolling his shoulders and popping his neck. The thick chords of his muscles pop out from the motion.
Licking my bottom lip, I get the courage to ask what is bothering me the most. “What’s my name?”
“Shelly,” he states coolly, and I study his eyes trying to remember.
“Shelly,” I repeat, and he grins.
“What do you remember?”
“I don’t know.” I try to push down the panic inside me. The fear that is trying to takeover and make me freak out, because in all honesty, I have no damn clue who I am or where I am. I don’t know who this guy is. But I mean, he was rubbing ice on my nipples and I am naked, so we must know each other.
“Are we...?”
“Together?”
“Yeah.” My teeth graze my bottom lip as I look at him, waiting for an answer. He’s rugged and tattooed. Sexy.
“You seriously don’t know who I am?’
I shake my head, hugging my arms around my chest feeling so vulnerable and exposed. “No.”
“Name’s Charlie.”
“Okay, Charlie. How long have we…ya know?”
“I gotta be straight with you. I just don’t know if you are ready to hear it yet. Why don’t we make sure that you’re okay and we can worry about everything else later? No need in overwhelming you.”
I nod. He’s probably right. I do need to take things slow and see what comes back to me. I look around the room hoping for something to spark a memory, but nothing registers. “Do I have any clothes?”
An annoyed expression flashes over his face and he makes a weird noise in the back of his throat. “Not really. I can give you something of mine until I can go get you some stuff.”
“So, I don’t live here? Can you take me home?”
“No and no. Long story. But uh, I saved you from something bad and brought you here to protect you.” When he speaks of something bad I can feel it in my bones, but I can’t recall what he is referring to. “We kind of like each other but haven’t really gotten that far yet.” He winks, and I can feel heat rising on my cheeks. “Once I know you are feeling okay, I’ll make a trip to town to get you whatever you need.”
“Okay.” I offer him a faint smile and my belly rumbles.
He moves from the bed, goes over to a bag sitting by the door and takes out a wrinkled t-shirt.
He sniffs it then tosses it in my direction. “Should do ya for now.”
“Thanks…I think.”
“You feel okay to get up and come to the kitchen, so I can feed you.”
“I think so.” I tug the shirt down over my head and push my arms through the sleeves, being swallowed by his tee. An outdoorsy scent seizes me, and I hear a motorcycle in my head. Maybe he rides, or I have ridden on it with him. I don’t know. I move to stand but immediately sink back down on the mattress feeling dizzy.
“Why don’t I just bring you something, unless you want me to carry you to the couch, so you can watch TV.”
“That would be nice. Thanks.”
He makes that funny sound again, clearing his throat and leans down so that I can cradle my arms around his neck.
I can’t tell when he makes that noise if it is because I annoy or amuse him.
Then again, I don’t know anything about this guy. Or maybe I do but I can’t remember.
He plops me down on what seems to be a brand-new couch. Everything is new in appearance. “Have you lived here long?”
“I guess you could say just moving in.” He powers the TV on and hands me the remote telling me to turn it on whatever I want.
Only problem is I don’t know what I like to watch.
Charlie goes into the kitchen and opens the fridge. “Do you like fried bologna?”
“Um…maybe…” I have no idea what foods I like. I am trying not to feel overwhelmed. Charlie is helping, he isn’t pushy or getting upset with me. He’s kind and good looking. Though his hair and beard could use a cleanup.
“Best to warn you now I’m no Betty Crocker. Takeout is usually my specialty but being so far out, there isn’t anything convenient nearby.”
“I can cook.”
“Yeah?”
“At least I think I can.” I grin.
“Next meal is all you then. There’s a pen and some paper if you want to make a list of stuff you might need.” A feeling like I have heard him say that before— Deja vu washes over me but quickly dissipates.
I stare at the paper and panic looms in the back of my mind. I know certain things but not everything. It’s a scary feeling.