Labor of Love Read online

  Labor of Love

  Alexa Riley

  Contents

  Labor of Love

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  Stalk the Author

  Labor of Love

  by Alexa Riley

  Lucy is at the end of her rope, and the only thing she knows to do is run away. The only problem is when she gets behind the wheel she has no clue what to do. After an accident wipes out her memory she finds herself saved by someone unexpected.

  Orlando is just trying to live a quiet life alone and away from the world. Until one day she comes into his life and turns it upside down. He’s never lied like this before, but he can’t let her slip away.

  Warning: This Labor Day, get to work flipping pages! It’s an over-the-top amnesia romance with all the gooey stuff from Alexa Riley that you adore!

  Copyright © 2017 by Author Alexa Riley LLC. All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to [email protected]

  http://alexariley.com/

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Edited by Aquila Editing

  Cover Designer: Mayhem Cover Creations

  To all the amazing, underpaid, and overworked teachers… we never appreciate you more than the week before school starts back!

  Chapter One

  Lucy

  The rain beats down on the windshield, making it almost impossible to see. Worse, I had to roll up the windows once it started coming down, and there is no air conditioning in this car, which makes it hard to even breathe. My hand grips the steering wheel even tighter, my knuckles already aching. They have been locked on it since I tore out of my grandfather’s home at a dead run to get away from him as fast as I could. I couldn't take it anymore. My sides still throb from where he kicked me after he got me down on the ground.

  I’d barely made it out of there. I swallow a lump that forms in my throat again, shocked that more tears can even break free after how many I’ve cried already. I take a deep breath. I’m sure he’s called the cops by now, if he’s alive.

  My heart skips at the thought. I didn't think the car hit him very hard, but who knows. Would prison be worse than living with that man? I doubt it. I hadn't seen him come running out of the house after me. Not until I heard the thunk and scream. You have to be alive to yell, right?

  I hadn’t cared in the heat of the moment. I just knew I had to get out of there as fast as possible. When I went running out of the house I was thankful that there was even a car there. It was one of his old classics he’s always tinkering with. When I saw the keys hanging in the ignition I knew I had to take the chance to get away.

  “Jesus,” I breathe out. I don’t even feel guilty. I just wanted to go. I took as much as I could, filling up one single backpack. The car starts to slide, and I scream, but I somehow get it back under control. I have no idea how to drive. I’ve only ever seen other people do it.

  I have no clue where I’m even going. My only plan is to drive. At first, I thought about finding a police officer, but now that I accidently hit my grandfather, I’m not sure what to do. They’d probably never believe me anyway, not with his standing.

  My eyes catch the rearview mirror and I see a mark already forming on my cheek. I was shocked when he hit me in the face today. Normally he keeps his blows to areas no one would notice on his granddaughter.

  The car slides again. I pull the wheel, trying to right it like before. It isn't until I slam on the brakes that I realize what a mistake that is. The car pulls to the right, going off the road into the grass. I scream as I plow right into an enormous iron gate. My head hits the steering wheel and pain explodes through me.

  Black spots dance in front of my eyes as I try to keep them open. I growl and lean back, bringing my hand to my head and feeling wetness there. When I look at my fingers I see blood. I unbuckle the seatbelt and reach for the door, pushing against it, but it won’t open.

  My whole body aches and I start to cry once again. He’s going to find me. He’ll send me back. I know it. I don’t know which was worse: the hospital or my grandfather’s house. The hospital. They were under his thumb just like everyone else was.

  I push at the door again as panic grips me. I have to get out of here. I push as hard as I can, but it doesn't even budge. The black spots dance in my eyes again. Wait, that isn't a spot. It’s a person on the other side of the gate. I watch the figure move, trying to open the gate. When it doesn't work, he scales the gate so fast I’m almost sure I passed out for a moment. He lands on the hood of the car.

  The figure yells something, but I can’t hear him. I try to respond, but nothing comes out when I open my mouth. Glass shatters moments later and a hooded man comes into view.

  “Please,” I beg, but I can’t get the rest of the words out of my mouth. He reaches for me and pulls me from the car. He wraps something around me, shielding me from the rain that is pouring down, and hauls me up into his arms easily. I try and wrap my arms around the man's neck, but they feel too heavy.

  “Please,” I say again.

  “I’ve got you, little one.” I lay my head against his shoulder as my eyes fall closed.

  “Don’t pass out on me.” I open my eyes and the world around me spins. The jolts to my body soon make me realize he’s running.

  Where am I? My body aches everywhere. My mind drifts in and out as I attempt to focus on what just happened to me.

  I try to look up at who is carrying me, but something is covering me. Blocking me from the rain I hear pouring down now. A flash of my grandfather’s face snaps in and out of my mind.

  “Please. Don’t let him find me.”

  The man's steps falter for a moment. “I’ve got you. I promise you're safe with me.”

  “Safe,” I repeat. The word feels so foreign in my mouth. Unknown. I relax into the man, for some reason believing him. My eyes drift closed again. “You'll keep me safe?” I whisper. I’m sure he can’t hear me. The rain is too loud.

  “Always,” his deep rough voice responds before I drift off into darkness.

  Chapter Two

  Orlando

  I pull her little body close. My heart is still pounding when it shouldn't be. I’m more than fit. I can run for miles without getting winded. But right now, I can’t get my racing heart to slow. When I hit my porch, Marta throws open the door and looks at me with wide eyes.

  “Sir?” she asks. Her eyes go to the small girl in my hands.

  “Call Doc and get your husband to get that car out of my gate. Put it in the garage for now,” I tell her as I head up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I don’t know why, but I head straight for my bedroom. I kick the door open and head for the bed, laying her down on it. I pull the flag away from her. I’d shielded her body with it, protected her from the elements.

  I’d been rushing outside to take the flag down when the rain had
started to pour. When I got it down I started to run back toward the house. And then I heard the loud crash. I took off towards the sound to see some old antique sports car smacked into the side of the gate. Irritation hit me at first.

  How stupid was someone to be driving a car like that in a storm like this? When I landed on the hood of the car after climbing over the gate and saw the young girl inside, protectiveness hit me like a fucking freight train.

  I’d somehow managed to push the car over a little, then pried the gates open so I could get back through them without having to climb over. After smashing the window I pulled her from the car.

  The sweetest chocolate eyes met mine, but the sight of her blood and the bruise on her cheek have me riding a hard edge I don’t even think I experienced in my days as a Ranger. I look down at the dark-haired angel, not sure what I should do next. My fingers itch to reach out and touch her. I only hold back for a moment before I brush the wet hair out of her face.

  “Fuck,” I mumble. Even with the small cut on her forehead and the bruise, it’s easy to see she’s breathtaking. She really does look like a dark-haired angel. The white dress that has molded to her body only makes it truer. I can’t help but notice her nipples are pebbled. My eyes lock there.

  I growl and turn away. She’s freaking hurt and I’m ogling her. Is this what happens when you spend years holed up in your home and keep the rest of the world out? The sight of a woman like her sends you into full-blown lust?

  No, that can’t be it. While I might keep the rest of the world at bay, I do still have staff that come and go. Some are female, and I’ve never had a reaction like this before. I run my hand down my face and try to get myself together. I need to help her.

  I head toward the bathroom and grab some towels and washcloths. I dig through the drawers searching for anything that might help her. When I rush back to her side, Marta is standing at my door.

  “Sir?” She’s unsure of what to do, not because of the girl, but because no one is allowed in my bedroom. Not even the staff. I even clean it myself. I don’t care for people being in my personal space. I’d retained that particular quirk when I retired from being a Ranger.

  “Enter,” I grit out, pushing past my own bullshit. This isn't about me. It’s about the little bit that has been sent to my doorstep. The one who’s in trouble, and not only from her injuries.

  “Please. Don’t let him find me.”

  Her soft-spoken words rattle through my mind again. The trace of fear that I’d heard. It was there. This girl is on the run.

  “The doc?” I ask.

  “He’s on his away,” she tells me, stepping up beside the bed.

  “Was he at home when you called?” She nods. Good. That means he's really close then as he only lives down the road from me. “And the car?” I push. If she’s on the run from someone, we need to get her car out of sight. Now.

  “He’s already working on moving it.” Thunder cracks, making my girl flinch. My mind freezes at my slip. I already think of her as mine.

  For now, she is.

  “I’ll start a fire. Will you…” My eyes roam over the girl. “Get her out of the wet clothes. She’ll catch a chill.” Marta nods. I force myself away from the bed and head for my closet to find a shirt for her to put on. When I come back I curse when I see Marta has her dress pushed up to reveal her ribs.

  Dark bruises stain her torso. I can tell they aren't from the crash—a clear boot mark shows. “Poor thing,” Marta says, looking over to me. I take a deep breath, trying to cool the rage pounding down on me. Who the fuck would hurt this little thing? I hand Marta the shirt then turn away to start a fire to make sure the room stays warm.

  Marta lets me know when she’s done. I turn and walk over towards the bed.

  “Wait at the door for Doc.”

  “Yes, sir,” Marta answers and rushes from the room. I sit down on the side of the bed and pick up one of the towels to wipe away the blood from her face. The cut isn't as bad as I thought it was. It won’t even need stitches.

  Her eyes flutter open. My breath catches as her eyes come to mine. I expect her to scream. My face isn't the prettiest anymore. Scars mark up the left side. They don’t only mark my face. The left side of my body matches.

  But she smiles up at me. She reaches a hand up and I have to stop myself from flinching away when she touches the scared side. “Who are you?” she asks.

  “You don't remember?” I ask her.

  She doesn't answer me. “I’m so sleepy,” she tells me. Her hand drops away from my face and I miss her touch. When was the last time I let someone touch me? The doctors, maybe?

  “I think you should stay awake, little one,” I tell her. I watch as she pouts her plump bottom lip.

  “But I’m sleepy.” Her eyes start to fall closed again. I reach for her and run my thumb along her jaw towards her lips, wanting to touch that pout. To know if it feels as soft as it looks.

  “Sir.” I jerk my hand away. Marta is standing in my doorway again and holding a cell phone. “It’s Doc. There’s been a rock slide. He can’t get here.” I walking over to her and take the phone from her hand.

  “John,” I say into the phone. “I need you here.” I can hear the plea in my own voice. I never beg, but there it is.

  “O, I’m sorry. It’s not happening.” John sighs into the phone. I know if he’s saying he can’t make it, he really can’t.

  “Fuck,” I bark out. Marta’s eyes go wide.

  “Tell me what’s happening.” I give John the Cliff Notes including finding the bruise on her side.

  “She woke up and talked to you?”

  “Yeah, she didn't seem like she was in pain or anything. Even reached out and touched me.”

  “And you let her?” he asks.

  “John,” I growl, wanting him to stay on topic.

  “Get your phone out. I’m texting you a link.” I pull my phone out of my back pocket, knowing this must be going somewhere important. I click the link to download an app as instructed.

  “Done.” I tell him.

  “I want you to open the app, press the center button while you hold her eyelid up. Let it scan her eyes for three seconds.” I rush back over to the bed, hit speaker on Marta’s phone and set it next to me on the nightstand.

  I lift her eyelid and follow John’s instructions. The phones light comes on and dings when it’s done. The screen flashes.

  I look at the screen. Patient's status is: Normal

  I let out a sigh of relief. “Says normal.”

  “Good. Then let her rest,” John says. “Treat the cuts and call me when she wakes. Maybe they’ll have the road cleared by then.” I nod.

  “O, you got all that?”

  “Yeah, yeah. I can do that,” I tell him. I’m still reveling in the relief I’m feeling that the scan said she was okay.

  “Try not to scare her.”

  “Fuck you,” I tell him. He laughs, and I end the call. I hand the phone back to Marta.

  “I’ve got it from here,” I tell her. She nods and leaves. I shut the door, flip the lock and retake my position on the bed. I pick up her hand and hold it in mine. God, she’s so small. Her hand takes mine and she rolls to the side. She flinches a little at her own movement but moves closer to me, her small hand not letting go of mine.

  As I look down at her helpless before me, I know that I will keep my word to her. I will keep her safe from everything.

  Except maybe me.

  Chapter Three

  Orlando

  I jerk when I wake, feeling warmth against me. My eyes fly open. I still when I realize what it is. Her. My little bit is snuggled up against me, her face buried in my neck, her warm breath puffing against my skin. One of her legs is thrown over me and my very hard cock is pressed up against it. She is clinging to me in her sleep and I’m doing the same. My arms are wrapped around in her in a tight hold. I loosen a little, scared I might be hurting her, but she lets out a small little sigh and snuggles even deeper into m
e.

  I have to fight a growl. This is the sweetest torture I’ve ever felt in my life. I take a deep breath and a sugary sweet smell of honey fills my lungs. It's the only way I can even think to describe the smell of her. I’m instantly addicted to it. I lean my head down a little to take a deeper breath of it, running my nose back and forth through her hair.

  I growl and my cock gives a jerk. It urges me to roll over on top of her and pull those white panties I saw she had on under my shirt to the side and slide right into her. My mind flashes to all the things I could do to her little body. I growl. I have to get out of this bed.

  Carefully, I slide out from the bed without disturbing her. When in the bathroom I strip and get into the shower, hitting hit the cold on full blast, trying to shock my bad back, but it does nothing. I look down at my cock and know it’s not going to go down unless I do something about it.

  The feeling is so fucking foreign. I can’t remember the last time I masturbated. There’s been no drive. Sure, I get hard from time to time. Not because I’m turned on but because I’m a man and that shit happens, but there was never a desire to do anything about it. Not since I came home. I thought that part of me had died and it hadn't bothered me. Now it’s rushing to life.

  I wrap my hand around my cock and give it a hard stroke. I’m angry with myself for the thoughts I had about the girl in my bed. It was wrong. She was helpless. Scared and clearly on the run from someone, but my body gave no fucks.

  I growl as I pump faster, picturing her in my bed. It doesn't take long and I’m cumming hard. Years of what I can only guess is pent-up, unknown need shoot from my cock. I try and keep quiet, but another loud growl is pulled from me. I drop back onto the bench in my walk-in shower and hang my head as I try to catch my breath. I don’t know how long I sit there, drowning in a mix of shame and pleasure.