“Who the fuck is in here?” The sound of someone yelling woke me with a start.

Oh fuck, he found me. Bob found me. Panic seized my heart. Jerking up in the bed I pulled my knees into my chest. I had nowhere to go, nowhere to run and hide. It was still dark outside. I knew I hadn’t been asleep long.

How in the hell had he found me? I didn’t notice anyone behind me on the drive. I made sure to keep a look out. There was no one, just me on the wide-open road. 

I could hear the heavy footsteps resounding through the thin walls as they tore through the front of the house, heading in my direction, my chest tightening with every thud. My heartbeat sounded in my ears echoing loudly.

Scanning the room I looked for somewhere to hide, anywhere. The room was empty save for the chest of drawers. Before I could think to run, the bedroom door flung open, the room was washed in a bright light.

“Who are you and why the fuck are you in my bed?” A deep grumbling voice rang out.

Blinded by the bright light I scrambled from the bed. My fight or flight senses kicked in, I was in full flight mode. Making a split decision, I ran toward the bathroom with the intent of locking myself in. I knew the door wouldn’t be enough to keep him out, but hopefully it would hold long enough for me to find a weapon.

I had no sooner taken a step in that direction when a pair of thick iron arms wrapped around my waist. Screaming, I thrashed in his arms. How dare this motherfucker lay his hands on me again. I kicked out repeatedly, my foot landing against his leg. A loud grunt sounded in my ear.

“Quit fighting, goddamn it.” Further enraged, I reached my arms back to claw at him.

Before my hands could find purchase, I felt my body whirling then sailing through the air. My body landed face forward onto the bed. Before my mind had the chance to react, a lead weight followed, resting on my back as my arms were pulled behind me, held together by thick meaty fingers.

“I said to quit fighting.” The deep voice bellowed against my ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down my spine, his belt buckle digging into my ass.

They were shivers of fear and something entirely different, something primal and animalistic, and dare I even think it, arousal. The man on top of me aroused me. I felt bile fill the back of my throat at the thought.

“Are you done fighting now?” He asked. His firm grip on my hands never letting up for a moment.

I could detect a thick southern drawl to his voice. It wasn’t Bob. My body immediately sagged in relief at the knowledge. I could handle it being anyone but Bob.

“That’s more like it.” I felt the lead weight lift off my body.

Carefully the pressure eased up on my wrists until they were finally free. I could feel the heat leaving my body the further he pulled away. I missed it. I missed the weight of his body pushed up against mine. I missed the scent of him infiltrating my senses. Clearly my mind was breaking under the stress of recent events, there was no other explanation.

“Can you now tell me why you’re in my house?” Though his voice was calmer and he was no longer yelling I could still hear the anger lingering in his voice.

Did he just say his house? Jerking up I spun on him, my finger pointed out accusingly.

“Your house?” I screamed pounding my finger into his chest, his thick, broad, muscular chest, the chest of wet dreams and even wetter fantasies.

“Yes, my house.” His bright sky-blue eyes narrowed at me.

The man was breathtakingly gorgeous. His features were chiseled and masculine. His bright blue eyes sparkled like diamonds, his cheek bones high and pronounced. A dusty blond five o’clock shadow gave him the ruggedly sexy appeal, matching the dirty blond hair on the top of his head. Averting my eyes to avoid staring I focused on his chest.

I watched as his broad chest expanded and contracted, my eyes eating up every square inch of him. I wanted to rip off the thin white t-shirt he was wearing and lavish him with my tongue. 

“Eyes up here.” He scolded, light humor lacing his voice.

I was fuming. I wasn’t sure if I was angry at myself for finding this invader attractive or if I was angry at him for, well, invading.

“Listen up buckaroo. Grab your shit and get the fuck out of my house. I have enough shit to deal with. The last thing I need is some big, strong, sexy, muscular you adding to my troubles.” I pounded my finger further into his chest.

His shoulders shook in silent laughter, his chest bouncing my finger along with it. I huffed out a heated expanse of air from my nostrils, causing him to nearly double over. His thick arms, that were the size of small tree trunks, wrapped around his narrow waist. He began to bellow out in raucous laughter, further infuriating me. 

“There is nothing funny about this situation. Turn your ass around and march mister.” I scolded, my temper getting the better of me.

Wiping a tear from his eye he struggled to get ahold of his laughter.

“Let me get this right, you want me to get my big, strong, muscular sexy ass out of your house?” The merriment dancing in his eyes lit into me.

“That’s exactly what I said. Now get. Your. Ass. Moving.” The bright white smile that flashed across his face screamed arrogance.

“You forgot the sexy.” He smirked superciliously.

I stood staring at him, confused. Sexy?

Oh. Damn it. I went there, didn’t I? Fuck my life and then fuck it again. Hell, fuck it about twenty more times to be sure.

“You’re not cute. You’re not funny. You’re an insufferable ass. Now please leave my house.”  I demanded.

“I hate to rain on your parade Miss Sunshine, but this is my house and I’m not leaving.” He folded his arms across his chest, his feet firmly planted to the ground.

Mimicking his stance, I held his gaze. “Leave.”

“Not happening sweetheart.”

Inhaling deeply, I decided to take a different approach to the situation. Keeping my voice calm and even I tried to appeal to his reasonable senses, pulling on my years of training as a social worker.

“Look, I’ve had a long week and an even longer night. I just want to get some sleep in the comfort of my own home. Can you please leave now?”

Looking amused by my speech he shook his head slowly, eyes cast down. Taking a long deep breath his eyes rose to meet mine. 

“Look Princess, I get it. You’re homeless, no place to go. Wandering the desert, you see this nice cozy home and decided to crash. As humbled as I am that you found my home so inviting, you’re trespassing. Grab your shit from the doorway and carry your pretty little ass on.” His voice, though as calm and steady as my own, held authority.

Closing my eyes, I tried to summon the strength to remain calm; however, it just wasn’t in the cards. I unleashed on him, giving him everything I had in me.

“Get the fuck out of my house. I bought it. It’s mine. Suck it up buttercup because you need to go. I have no patience for assholes. I’m not homeless. I’m tired. I’m exhausted. I’m hungry. And most of all, I’m tired of playing nice. I’m finished with being run from my own home. Now, get the fuck out.”  I screamed pointing angrily toward the door.

The man, seemingly taken aback by my explosion, quietly turned and exited the room shutting the door behind him. I felt tears streaming down my face in relief as I watched his retreating form.  Crumbling to the floor I wept openly. I wept in relief, the building stress had taken over and for once I was able to have something go my way, no matter how small a victory it was.

I didn’t have the energy to fight with him all night about the house. I didn’t care. Quite frankly it could have been his house and I still wouldn’t have cared. All I wanted, needed, was a few hours to sleep and eventually some food. Was that so much to ask? Was it beyond the realm of possibility that I could get a decent night’s sleep and a hot meal?

Dragging myself up from the floor I marched to the switch on the wall, cutting off the light, then made my way back to the bed. I didn’t give a second thought to the intruder. He could have been a serial killer for all I knew but that didn’t matter. What mattered was I finally felt safe from Bob. Everything else I could deal with in the morning. Crawling beneath the covers, to the safety of the warm blankets and intoxicating bed, exhaustion overtook me.