Claimed by a Stranger (Craved Series #2) Read online

  Claimed by a Stranger

  Hazel Kelly

  © 2015 Hazel Kelly

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, copied, or stored in any form or by any means without permission of the author. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  All characters in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons is purely coincidental.

  “Happy times together we've been spending

  I wish that every kiss was never ending”

  -The Beach Boys

  Chapter 1: Jack

  I felt an unprecedented level of anger as the sexual frustration that had been building up inside me all night turned to adrenaline.

  I hurried down the pier as fast as I could without running. It was bad enough that I was leaving Audrey like that. I didn’t want her to have the mental image of me literally running away from her.

  As soon as I was a good distance away, I looked back over my shoulder and felt an ache in my gut. Audrey was making her way up the dock, her dress and hair flowing in the breeze.

  I couldn’t believe this was happening. The last thing I wanted was to leave her alone, pleasantly tipsy and up for it.

  She was up for it, right? I know she said she was tired and that she was thinking of heading back soon anyway, but surely she was only being polite to highlight how fucking out of control rude I was being. Right? I couldn’t have misread the signals that much.

  No. She definitely wanted it. She’d basically suggested we hook up outright on more than one occasion despite the fact that I was doing my best to be subtle.

  And that kiss.

  She probably would’ve let me have her right there, my hand up her skirt with the ocean breeze as my elbows gathered splinters from rocking over her on the wooden dock.

  And I fucking would’ve done it, too, especially if I’d known our evening was going to be unforgivably cut short like this. So much for my good karma! So much for everything going according to plan!

  Fuck.

  This bullshit was becoming too much to deal with. I couldn’t even live my own goddamn life anymore without having to drop everything to put out his fires. These rescue missions were becoming a regular occurrence, and I was starting to feel like the most taken for granted babysitter on Earth.

  Except babysitters fucking like their job while I was beginning to loathe the ball at the end of my chain.

  I grabbed my bike from under the palm tree where I left it and swung my leg over the seat, revving the engine before pulling out into the street. Fortunately, there was no traffic to speak of- except for the occasional moped chugging along at the side of the road- so it only took me a few minutes to make my way across town.

  When I got to the club, I drove my bike straight up to the door and jumped off, slowing down just long enough to grab the keys. Thai beaches were one thing. Thai clubs were another. If I wanted to drive my bike away from here, I couldn’t risk leaving the keys in my bike.

  I walked in with my fists clenched.

  The bouncer stopped me with his fingers. “You looking for someone?”

  “Yeah, Sammy Sparkles. She works here.”

  The guy nodded and removed his hand from my shoulder.

  I made my way past him into the dark club and looked around. It was warm and muggy and smelled intimate in a way that a public place shouldn’t.

  Finally, I saw Sammy waving at me as she emerged from the darkness.

  “Thanks for calling me,” I shouted loud enough for her to hear.

  She shrugged. “Jimmy was going to call the cops. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Upstairs,” she said, pointing a pink talon in that direction.

  “Can you show me?”

  She nodded and took my hand, walking me past a bunch of sun soaked tourists waiting for their turn to pay through the nose to have Thai tits shoved in their faces.

  When we reached the stairs, Sammy let go of my hand and led the way to the first floor. The hallway was dark and warm. Why on Earth anyone would choose to spend time in a place like this was beyond me.

  Actually, I knew why the Thai girls did it. Half of them were being pimped and some of them didn’t know any better. Still, the sight of the guys downstairs with their greasy hair and their open mouthed breathing made me feel absolutely sick.

  We walked to the end of the hallway where a large man was standing with his arms crossed. Sammy said something in Thai and the guy turned around to unlock the door behind him.

  I wanted to scream, to run, to go absolutely ape shit, but I couldn’t leave. I was here now. I had to deal with this.

  The sight I was greeted with next was almost too pathetic for words. My Dad was propped up in a worn armchair with his feet tied together and his arms tied behind his back. His shirt was wet with sweat and his forehead was pouring, too. I only had to look at his eyes to know he was totally blacked out.

  “Jack!” he slurred.

  I didn’t answer him. Instead I turned to Sammy. “Was all this really necessary?”

  She shrugged. Her eyes were sad but not apologetic. “He said he paid Noi when he didn’t, and then he started screaming at her.”

  I shook my head. Raising your voice in Thailand was considered extremely disrespectful and set people on edge faster than just about anything. My Dad had been out here long enough to know better.

  “Then he got physical, and that’s when Jimmy snapped.”

  I nodded.

  “I’m sorry. I thought if you came it would be better for everyone.”

  “It’s okay. I’m glad you called.” I knew these places didn’t like to involve the cops unless it was absolutely necessary. If the city started to get the impression they couldn’t handle their own customers, they could get shut down. What I didn’t understand was why the fuck they kept letting my Dad inside in the first place?

  I sighed. “Well, he looks calmer now.” I tilted my head at him, dying a little inside to see my Dad so fucked up by his own hand.

  Sammy tried to smile.

  “Can I just leave him here?” I asked. “Get him some water and let him sleep it off?” I knew the answer, but I wanted to pretend for just a second that I could walk away, that I had options and wasn’t completely stuck.

  “No, Jack. He needs to go. He can’t be here. He upset Noi.”

  I pursed my lips. “I came on my bike.”

  “I can get a tuk-tuk for you.”

  “Do you know anyone with a cab, Sammy? Or a car?” I asked. “I’m afraid he’ll fall out of a tuk-tuk in this condition.”

  Her lips formed a straight line. “Yes. I think I know someone.”

  “Maybe someone who can be discreet?”

  She touched my arm gently. “I’ll be right back.”

  I turned and looked at my Dad.

  “Well don’t just stand there,” he said. “Help me out of this.”

  I didn’t move. His feet would have to be untied, but it might be a good idea to leave his hands bound. It would make it easier to lead him out and shove him in a cab. Plus, that was the only way I could be sure he’d keep his hands to himself on the way out.

  And it’s not like he would even fucking remember this tomorrow anyway. He never did.

  Every time he got like this, it was my night that got ruined, not his. I was the one who was embarrassed, the one who was so desperate the next morning for things to change. But he’d always wake up in the afternoon, ready for a good time and unable to think of any reason he shouldn’t treat himself to a cold beer.

  “Why should I, Dad?” I asked, looking for a place to sit and deciding against
it. “I’m starting to think we’d both be better off if you were tied up all the time.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “Untie me now.”

  “No.”

  “Untie me damnit!” he yelled, his face turning as red as the walls.

  “Dad, if you don’t calm down, I’m going to leave you here. I swear to god I’ll walk out and let the cops take you away.”

  “Come on, Jacky,” he said softly. “You wouldn’t do that to your old man.”

  I shifted my weight and stared at him.

  “Please untie me.” His addict’s eyes were vacant and full of lies. “I’ll buy you a drink?”

  Chapter 2: Audrey

  I collapsed on the bed and let out a long sigh.

  There was no contest. Jack was hands down the best male company I’d enjoyed in a long time and that was by far the best date I’d ever been on.

  Shame about the way it ended though.

  I knew it was too late to change the way we parted ways, but I wish I’d been thinking more clearly when he caught me off guard. It would’ve been nice to know what the problem was that needed his immediate attention so urgently.

  But it’s not like he offered the information up himself. Plus, he was in such a hurry. At the time, it would’ve seemed rude to pry into his personal business.

  After all, I didn’t even know him.

  And to think I was considering sleeping with him?!

  And not just considering it, but looking forward to it!

  From the moment he met me at the bar, I’d hoped the evening would end with sex. I imagined he’d be in such a hurry to have me that he’d rip my dress when he tore it off, and I wouldn’t even care because I have it in so many other colors.

  Then he’d throw his clothes on the floor, too, and give me the mind-blowing fuck that I so badly needed. And even though I would never actually say any of the pillow talk I imagined would be fun to whisper to a doctor, it all ran through my head between dinner courses…

  “I think I’m coming down with a fever… Lay down for me so I can test your reflexes-”

  And then he might say “tell me when this hurts,” but I wouldn’t because it would hurt so good I wouldn’t be able to breathe much less speak.

  But as I refused to learn despite repeatedly being burned, the fantasy was always better than the reality.

  Fuck!

  I was supposed to be mending a deflated heart, not putting myself through the ringer again! What the hell was my problem?!

  Was it that I always put out too quickly? I mean, all my prudest friends were the first to get married. Maybe I had to stop doing that if I was going to convince a guy that I was worth committing to.

  Then again, that theory wasn’t even relevant to this situation. After all, I wasn’t really pursuing a real relationship with Jack. Anything that happened with him was just a holiday fling.

  Unless I didn’t even sleep with him and then who knew what the fuck it was? A holiday chat? That would be a good story for the grandkids and the girls at home…

  “Hey everyone, gather round. I want to tell you about this hot doctor who saved my life, and I thanked him by having some really great conversation with him. Boy did we laugh the night away with our hands in our own personal space! It was an absolutely wild time!... Maybe you had to be there.”

  Of course, we did have fun. The conversation flowed. There were no awkward silences. We had enough chemistry to account for a lack of common interests, which isn’t to say we didn’t have enough in common to keep things interesting.

  And I’d been on enough first dates to know that they never went that well. If I met him in Seattle, that would’ve been the perfect date, and I’d be hoping with every fiber of my totally frustrated being that it wasn’t just a fling.

  Then again, I was a terrible judge of men’s character. If there was anything that my dating record proved, it was that I was complete shit at reading their signals, knowing where they stood, and guessing at what was going through their thick heads.

  But he had definitely kissed me and liked it, right?

  Or had he hated it and that’s why he fled? And now he was sitting in his apartment thinking he’d dodged a bullet by not sleeping with me because my kissing was so atrocious that he didn’t want to take things any further.

  No. That couldn’t be. And not just because it would kill me but because my kissing was the only thing I had any confidence in whatsoever. It was the single sexual skill I’d practiced the most anyway.

  But what if that’s why I could never hold down a serious relationship? Because everything besides my kissing was deplorable and cringy?

  My heart sank. If that were true it meant none of the embarrassingly numerous first dates I’d been on had ever liked or cared enough about me to give me a heads up that my technique needed work. In fact, they probably got together to discuss their own private horror stories of what it was like to hook up with me.

  Which meant Jack wasn’t the first guy I’d ever alienated- just the first in this country.

  I banged my head against the bed. This was getting ridiculous. I needed to grab hold of something and keep myself from sliding into my own sludge pool of self-pity.

  Sulking wasn’t the answer. Surely I’d know by now if my sexual skills were defective. Enough people had come back for seconds and thirds that I needn’t doubt myself. And Emmett had even told me I was amazing.

  Of course, that was before I knew he would say anything.

  Ugh!

  Why me?! I was a nice girl! Why wasn’t I getting railed by Dr. Jack right now?! Damn it all to hell!

  I opened my eyes as wide as I could. The white wine had obviously gone to my head. I was just talking in circles now and letting myself get worked up.

  And over what exactly? The fact that I’d enjoyed a lovely evening that ended with a fantastic kiss? That nothing more happened?

  If anything, it was good that Jack left when he did because I was obviously not thinking clearly.

  I chugged a bottle of water from the mini fridge on the way to the bathroom. Then I splashed some water on my face and stood up, dripping over the sink as I reached for a towel.

  And I remembered something.

  What was that face he was making at me when I opened my eyes after we kissed? He’d looked amused and delighted. Even pleasantly surprised. Like I was adorable or something?

  No one had ever looked at me like that. It was nice. I could see it so clearly in my mind, and remembering that expression made me feel so much better about the evening.

  Maybe on tomorrow’s outing he would look at me again that way, like he was smitten.

  I took off my dress and hung it over the towel bar in the bathroom before grabbing one of the white terry cloth robes behind the door. Then I turned off all the lights apart from the one on the nightstand and sprawled across my bed.

  After I stuck my legs under the covers, I reached over to my side table and grabbed my sketchbook. I wanted to draw the different fish I saw before my accident so I wouldn’t forget what they looked like.

  But it wasn’t long before my eyelids grew heavy, and when I couldn’t keep them open anymore, I rolled over to set my sketchbook on the nightstand just in time to see the digital clock change to one.

  I smiled and slid down against the pillows. I must have sat on that dock with him for hours.

  Chapter 3: Jack

  As I parked my bike along the side of the road, the car behind me turned its lights off.

  The driver, a rough looking friend of Sammy’s, got out as I approached. “He’s sleeping,” he said. “You want help carrying him?”

  He wasn’t fucking sleeping. Sleeping people can be woken up. He was passed out, and he better wake up when I take him upstairs cause I wasn’t going to stay awake all night making sure his sleep apnea didn’t get the better of him.

  “Yeah,” I said. “If you don’t mind.”

  Normally, I wouldn’t advertise where my Dad lived to shady
looking strangers since he could be so easily taken advantage of, especially since he spent half his waking hours pissed out of his brains. But there was no way I would be able to get him to the first floor without help, and unfortunately, I didn’t think dropping him on his head on the cement stairs of his building would knock any sense into him.

  Plus, the faster I got this over with, the better.

  I opened the door and decided his feet were the less offensive end so I let the other guy drag him out. Then I grabbed his upper body before his head hit the side of the car, lifting him by his armpits so I could lead the way.

  I was sweating by the time I got him to his room, thanked my helper in the best Thai I could manage, and gave him a fistful of baht for his discretion. Once inside, I dragged my Dad to his couch where he’d have no choice but to sleep on his side.

  I went to the fridge and poured two glasses of water from a large bottle. Then I placed the first beside my Dad before sitting in a chair across the room to drink the other myself.

  “How did we get here, Dad?” I asked, listening to him wheeze. His mouth was hanging open and his thinning hair was matted against his forehead.

  I’d been thinking about cutting him off, letting him get by on his meager savings alone, if there were even any left. But I knew it wouldn’t have the desired effect. It wouldn’t make him stop spending all his money on booze and drinking his life away. If anything, he might just get in bigger trouble.