Tainted Innocence
Chapter 2
Riddick was hurt. The cut above his eyebrow had stopped bleeding but it looked like it had been bad; his shirt was soaked through with his blood as it had run down his neck. But there was another injury lower on his side that seemed to still be bleeding.
I pumped up my courage and stepped up to him, taking his hand in mine as slowly as I could manage. We stayed that way for a second while I let him get used to the feel of my touch, until he understood that I wouldn't hurt him. When I felt he was ready, I gently pulled him down the hall to the bathroom to get him cleaned up.
His hand nearly engulfed mine and it was warm and strong but I could feel it shaking; I knew I had to be extremely careful with him or he might snap.
When we got to the bathroom Riddick stopped, pulling my arm taut as I kept going. I was jerked back around and grabbed the doorframe for balance. Looking up at him I could see the uncertainty written all over his face and he was nervously biting at his bottom lip.
"It's okay," I said, rubbing my other hand over the back of his after regaining my balance. He was holding desperately to me and after tugging on him a little, I managed to coax him into the bathroom. I sat him down on the closed toilet and turned away but Riddick wouldn't let go of my hand. I smiled down at him and gently pried his fingers away from mine and began rummaging through the medicine cabinet.
I could feel his eyes on me the whole time, watching my hands as I retrieved the things I needed, my body as I leaned over the counter, and it made me nervous; it made me afraid to feel what I was feeling. I just met him ten minutes ago and I was already imagining all the things I wanted him to do to me. It wasn't the first time I've ever felt like that but there was something more I couldn't quite put my finger on.
When I had everything I needed, I forced those thoughts from my mind and turned to face him, only seeing that he was visibly shaking and not from the cold. He was afraid…afraid of me perhaps, afraid of the unknown, which to him was everything.
Riddick looked up at me and there was something in that look that brought out my caring instincts in a fierce way. I moved between his legs and ran my hands over his head to the back of his neck. He stiffened for a second, expecting to be hurt or something but then I felt his forehead rest heavily against my stomach and strong arms wrap around my thighs. It was my turn to freeze but there was nothing threatening about the way he was holding onto me. He was lost and he needed someone to be there with him and that someone was me.
We stood that way for a few minutes before I felt his hands on the backs of my thighs, sliding up to my ass; a slow exploration of my body and I could hear a change in his breathing. It came rough and hot against my belly as he breathed in my scent. He moved his head so he could press his cheek to my bare skin and the scratchy stubble on his cheek sent spikes of raw sensation through my body. I allowed him to hold me like this, even letting myself feel good about it but it wasn't long before I remembered why I had brought him in here in the first place.
Reluctantly, I pulled away and he let his arms drop down to his sides. I prepped the needle and thread to sew up his head with shaky hands and set them down on the counter so I could remove his goggles and when I saw the silver shine of his eyes, a definite insistent heat started up between my legs. As I looked into them the heat became scolding and liquid; I squeezed my thighs together to relieve some of the pressure but it only helped aide the slow thump into a deep hard throb. I pretended it wasn't there and got started and thankfully Riddick was very still as I stitched him up, not flinching or pulling away at all, which was good because I was shaking in an effort to control my body.
He did flinch, though, when I took his chin in my hand to turn his head so I could inspect my stitching and I jumped and pulled away; my heart was in my throat and my hand was frozen in place. I wasn't sure if I should try that again. Riddick wouldn't look at me, his breathing was short and his fists were clenched, resting on his knees. I couldn't bring myself to make another try for it so I went for the hem of his shirt instead. He seemed to be okay with me fixing him up, even me holding him a minute ago…but touching his chin…I didn't understand. There was no injury there so it has to be something else. Too close perhaps, too human of an act? Then what the hell was a hug? That's probably as close as two people can be besides sex. I didn't get it.
I leaned over to grab the bottom of his shirt and my tank top dipped enough to give Riddick a little show, which momentarily distracted him, relaxing his breathing, his hands, and I was able to relax a little myself.
"Lift your arms, Riddick," I said as softly as I could. He took his eyes off my breasts and looked up at me, his brow furrowing. Maybe he didn't understand everything so I showed him. "Like this," I said, raising my arms up over my head. I felt a surge of heat leave his body as he watched, moving his eyes from mine, to my arms, and down over my body.
I don't know why I suddenly had trouble breathing, he was only looking at me, not touching me, but I felt my skin warm under his gaze, my knees becoming shaky. I should have been terrified of this man but I wasn't. Maybe it was the vulnerable state he was in or the look of complete innocence on his face that gave me the strength to do what I had to do.
Riddick looked me over once more then raised his arms. I carefully pulled the shirt away from his injury and up over his head, revealing his impressive build; muscles rippling up his abs to his chest and creeping over his shoulders and down his arms. I couldn't help but stare. No man that I have ever been with looked anything like this.
It wasn't muscle over-kill or anything like that; everything was proportionate, everything ran smoothly together, creating this perfect man that sat before me.
Riddick seemed to sense my hesitation or maybe he sensed a whisper of arousal in the air because he looked down at his body then met my eyes again, trying to figure out why I was staring at him.
I mentally kicked myself for visually raping him and got down on my knees to fix the gash in his side. It was bad but nothing I couldn't fix. Again, Riddick didn't move or make a sound. If he was in pain…he wasn't showing it, I was careful anyway. The blood wasn't a steady flow but it was pretty constant which made stitching a little more difficult and the crimson on my hands and my white tiled floor made me nauseous. My stomach rolled and lurched as I sewed him up. By the time I was done the blood had completely drained from my face and my hands were shaking uncontrollably.
The room tilted and I tightly squeezed my eyes shut, fighting off the dizzy spell. It felt like I was going to fall and my breathing only came out strained and shallow. A light caress on my cheek stopped everything around me, my stomach settled, the falling sensation ceased, and I was able to open my eyes again. And what I saw was shocking.
Riddick had his hand on my face and he looked concerned, more than concerned, scared…for me. He knew, somehow, that I was his caretaker now, and if anything happened to me, then something would happen to him. His concern for me made me feel funny inside and I didn't understand how his simple touch could make all my pain go away, but it did.
I put my hand over his and pressed my cheek into it, allowing myself to enjoy the feeling he gave me, the feeling of safety. I wanted him to trust me, to understand that I wasn't a threat to him, that it was okay to touch and to be touched. As I dragged my fingers across his knuckles, I could feel a roughness that wasn't normal, so I pulled his hand away to look.
Riddick's knuckles were bruised and cut, most likely from fighting his way out of Slam. I took his other hand and stood up, pulling him up with me. Standing there had me breathless again; just the size of him amazed me. I'm not short but he seemed to tower over me, a solid wall of muscle and bone, power and intensity, an animal heat that I never thought could exist in a human being, but the soft almost sweet look on his face confused the hell out of me.
It shouldn't have though. Riddick had two different minds sharing one body, two completely different lives fighting to be on top; two different memories, one holding all that he's gone through before and the other holding all he's going through now. This battle would be short lived. It would only be time before the stronger more dominant one would emerge and I knew which one it would be.
I pulled Riddick to the sink and turned the water on. After putting some liquid soap in my hands, I smoothed them over his knuckles, gently scrubbing away the dried blood and dirt. He kept his hands still unless I moved them, his eyes never leaving our entangled fingers. My heart was pounding the shit out of my ribs as his scent lingered in my nose. I could smell his blood, sweat, the dirt, and him. It was warm and fuzzy in my mind but I could taste the darkness lingering near by.
I finished up and rinsed our hands under the warm water; absently watching the bubbles run down the drain. Getting the towel to dry him was my next goal but as my eyes were drawn up to him I saw the bloody evidence of his injuries still lingering on his golden skin.
I grabbed a washcloth and soaped it up, ignoring the water that dripped off his fingers onto the floor as he stood there. I'll clean it later.
"Turn around," I said, guiding him so his back was to me. I managed not to hesitate this time as I drank in his wonderfully broad shoulders, the way the muscles moved beneath his skin from his angel wings down along his spine.
I started at the top and moved slowly downwards. The water from the washcloth ran down his skin in glistening little streams, soaking into his pants at the waist. I was sure Darren packed more so I wasn't worried. His back wasn't too bad but the front was smeared with blood from his neck all the way down.
Again, I started at the top, cleaning his neck and moving to his collarbone. I noticed he had a light sprinkling of hair on his chest that continued all the way down, dipping under his pants, right to his…STOP!! I scolded myself and forced my eyes elsewhere. The man has been through hell and he certainly doesn't need you lusting after him.
I hurried through the rest and stepped back to inspect the work. Not bad considering I don't stitch people up very often. I've only had to fix Darren up a couple times. I thought about getting him in the shower for a more thorough scrub down but I figured it was too late to walk him through that, let alone actually get in there and show him…not that it wasn't a pleasant thought.
"What am I forgetting?" I asked out loud while I looked over his entire body, finally focusing on his pants…his pants! Clean pants, right. "Stay here," I said, putting my hand up. He looked at my hand as I began backing out of the bathroom, confused, and he started to take a step toward me. "No, stay here," I said again a little more firmly and he stopped and remained where he was. I ran to get the duffle bag from the living room and when I got back to the bathroom I saw Riddick pulling at the front of his pants, at his crotch, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
I stared at him for a second before it finally hit me. He's gotta pee. I dropped the bag and moved closer to him. How the hell do I explain this? I decided a lot of pointing would probably do it.
I showed him how to use the toilet, wash his hands, and then I pulled a pair of clean pants out of the duffle bag and did my best to explain that. Riddick watched on, followed my motions, and even nodded a little. He didn't look confused so I stepped into the hall so he could have some privacy.
It was a couple minutes before I heard the toilet flush; the water in the sink came on and a few seconds later there was a thump and then another as he took off his boots and dropped them on the floor.
There was at least a full minute before he emerged, allowing my thoughts to run rampant again. All the fear, excitement, and wonderment I was feeling earlier was coming back, flashing through my head, not to mention my body, leaving me trembling and hot.
Riddick was a wanted man, smart, strong, and sexy as hell, and I had the feeling he wouldn't be wanted by just the authorities; any woman who laid their eyes on him would probably want a piece of him…me included. And here he was, in my house, the only thing separating me from this dark, amazing creature was a door. One he could most likely kick through if he wanted to.
What am I going to do? I pressed the heel of my hands to my eyes as a very sharp image of his full expressive lips came to mind. All I could really do was just go along with it; let whatever happens, happen.
I took a deep breath and let my hands drop to my sides before opening my eyes. Riddick was standing right in front of me
"Holy shit!" I screamed out and jumped back, hitting the wall. My hand went over my heart and I gasped for air. Darren certainly wasn't kidding when he said Riddick was quiet. I started to laugh a little with the ability to breathe again but my heart was still racing as I looked up at him. Riddick tilted his head to the side and fixed me with his silver gaze.
I reached up and put my hand on his bare chest, not sure why, and the laughter in my throat was cut short. His skin was soft and warm, hard muscle beneath moved under my hand as he breathed. I dragged it over to his heart, feeling its slow and steady beat, unlike mine. I couldn't take my eyes off the way his skin glowed in the dim light, how the light shade of my skin was such a contrast to his darker more exotic color.
Riddick closed his eyes and wavered a bit, almost falling asleep on his feet. I got myself together and let my hand fall away from him.
"Come on," I said as I turned away from him. "Let's get you to bed." I walked to my room with Riddick right behind me. My hand still tingled from the feel of his skin so I shook it, trying to get rid of the hot tingling sensation but it didn't work.
I climbed in on my side of the bed, pulling back the covers on the other side and patting the mattress. "Climb in," I coaxed. Riddick wearily walked to the bed and crawled in, lying on his stomach, out cold the moment his head hit the pillow. I stayed propped up on my elbow for a minute just looking at him, his face relaxed and very peaceful; completely void of all the expressions I had seen earlier.
After a few minutes, I pulled the covers over him and settled down on my side, still watching him; forcing my eyes to stay open but it wasn't long before I joined him in slumber.