Chapter 19: Chapter 19

Williams POV

My body felt numb and unbelievably immobilized. But still, I heard it clearly, the sweetest and sharpest voice I've ever heard—the reason for my recovery. I fluttered my eyes open and saw her looking down at me like I was the most delicate thing ever! Fine eyes! That was the first thing my eyes saw when I looked up at her. The owner of these eyes was staring down at me while she listened to something Sniper was saying. I didn't know who she was and I wanted to.

"How are you doing?" I love the way my name rolls off her tongue. It sounds intimate like a lover's touch. She smiled momentarily dazzling me with her smile. It was the smile that did it and those eyes, they stared straight into mine and spoke to my soul. I have never seen that color of eyes in an American lady, her eyes are a dull shade of gold with rings of fire in them.

"I feel numb and my shoulder bangs like fuck!" Why was she asking about me and where the hell was my doctor? I looked at Sniper and he offered a you-are-in-good-hands glare but I took some mental. Flimsy objects were a great weapon for destruction in our world. There was no quicker way to bring down a man than using a woman.

"I see," she said, going crimson. She was probably affected by my choice of words. "I'll take a quick test and see what else needs to be fixed," she said, smiling still. I liked how her eyes wrinkled at the sight. Her smile was beautiful as was her face. She brought out her stethoscope and leaned forward to take my temperature or whatever and I felt my cock thicken at the sight of those full tits. Her were are so big it literally spilled out of the bra cups, I could see the strain of the straps through her bright blue blouse. There was this primal urge to crush her softness against my chest, I will look like a pervert if I tried that. This woman—my doctor was what my father would describe as a sweet girl. Heavy on the sweet and less on the girl because from where I am sitting she is all woman. I could tell she was older than I was, not by her looks but by the way she carried herself, she was confident and self-assured and she knows how to carry a conversation well. Aside from the stellar conversation, her eyes were not roving with dollar bills in them as most women did when they looked at me. The problem with looking good and being wealthy was that everybody thought that they were entitled to a piece of me.

Women could smell it. They saw the labels on my clothes, the expensive cars, and the house, and knew right away that I was the one. I was the one, the knight in shining armor—the subject of their wet dreams. They thought fate would pull us together, and that somehow, their fairy godmother would give them a dress beautiful enough to get me to marry them. They shamelessly hunted me down. They blew my phone up, and when they finally realized that I wasn’t ready to marry them, they turned bitter, even violent. More than one girl had lost her mind over me. The sex made it even worse. I’d tasted every flavor, from dark chocolate to creamy yellow, women that most men could barely dream of, but not one of them was enough to satisfy me. Looks mattered, but substance mattered even more.

Substance was dangerous. It meant the possibility of attachment, and ultimately heartbreak, but I was an addict. I was used to dating women from my world, ladies that are aware of my underworld dealings. It would surprise most people if they know how many ladies love the thrill of violence. Ladies that are not involved in the dealings but thirst for men who they believe are tough and who live on the edge. I have a feeling Margaret would run the other way if she even sniffs any shady dealing about her lover.

Her lover I liked the sound of that, she didn't know it yet but I am hers and she is mine. I just needed to pull a few strong to confirm a few things.

There was this unexplainable affection for Margaret, the undeniable pull and I want to explore it. The mere thought of a chase thickened my already engorged cock. It’d been a while since I had to work for pussy.

It was the fourth day since Margaret started coming over to tend my woods and even though I knew I could do we without her tending to my wounds fit me, I'd wait until her arrival before even shoving my pain killers, down my throat because I wanted her to tell me to do it. Maybe it was because she smiled whenever she scolded about not taking a drug or the feistiness that came before the smile. Maybe it was the way her soft fingers brushed over one whenever she dropped the fingers on my palm.

"Hey, how are you feeling?'' she asked. She asked, her hands on my face checking my temperature the moment she walked in.

"I feel weak. I have this unbearable pain in my bones when I stretch or turn even. My right shoulder feels numb. I can't even touch my hand" Sniper’s eyes widened after hearing my last comment. I knew what that look meant but he sure as hell knew what mine meant!

The prick snickered.

"Unless you aren't taking your prescriptions correctly, you are supposed to be fine. At least not feel all this mind-numbing pain in your right shoulder or even your bones. It's either you are not taking your drug so that there is a deficiency in the nutrients it is meant to produce or you are overdosing on your prescription and now, the effects are taking a toll on you. So tell me which of them did you do?" She asked sternly.

"None… I took the prescription religiously like I'm supposed to" see me pouting like a kid. My men would see me right now and swear I was under some spell.

"Okay,” I could see the conflict in her eyes when she leaned in with her stethoscope. Her fingers brushed my lower lips and damn did I almost burn? Instant carnal lust flashed past as she lingered more, trailing a finger down my neck and then the narrows of my collarbone.

"I need to go to take care of that thing," Sniper said, and began walking away but stopped when Margaret called out to him. What the fuck?

"Can I join you? My throat feels parched. I need a drink" she said to him and he nodded in affirmation.

"Sure"

"Please make me a cup of coffee on your way back up." She hesitated for a moment before she finally nodded. "Thank you" once the door slammed shut after them, I pushed the duvet off my body and as suspected, my dick was all popping out veins.

Just great!

******

Margaret's POV

“He still hasn’t recognize me, has he?” I asked the guy that called to tell me about Williams’s predicament, apparently, Williams’s doctor was out of the country and since I knew my way around gunshot wounds, I was his next available option since Williams was pretty much selective with people he allowed to touch him. Sniper shook his head in negation and I smiled before going to make his coffee. I might have caught a small smile of mischief playing on his lips.

When I nervously made it back to his bedroom door, my knock was followed by an

abrupt “come in,” and I willed my hands to stop shaking. I curved my lips into a friendly smile, intent on making a better impression this time, and opened the door to him talking on the phone and writing furiously on the notepad in front of him. My breath caught when I heard his smooth, deep voice speaking flawless Arabic. In all my years of life, I'd never seen a non-Arabic person speaking the language so fluently. He was punching ferociously on his laptop. He was sitting behind his work desk with a large stack of blue paper on his tabletop. I thought his bones were numb and he couldn't lift his arm.

“Here you go,” I said as I walked around his desk to set his coffee in front of him. But just as I was about to reach his desk, my sneakers caught on the rug and I lunged forward. I heard a loud “Shit!” escape his lips—the coffee now is nothing more than a scorching stain on his expensive suit.

“Oh my Williams, I am so sorry!”

I rushed over to the sink in his bathroom to grab a towel and ran back, falling to my knees in front of him and attempting to wipe off the stain. In my haste, and amid humiliation I didn’t think could get any worse, it suddenly occurred to me that I was furiously rubbing the towel against his crotch. I averted my eyes and hand, feeling a heated blush spread from my face down my neck as I caught a glimpse of the noticeable bulge in the front of his pants.

“That should be—” I stopped mid-sentence, my breath caught in my throat. His hand mashed gently into my lower back before sliding down, settling on the curve of my ass. In the past days I had took care him, he had never purposely touched me. This was most certainly purposeful.

The warmth from his hand burned through my skirt and into my skin. Every muscle in my body tightened, and it felt like my insides were liquefying. What the hell was he doing? My brain yelled at me to push his hand off, to tell him to never touch me again, but my body had other ideas. My nipples stiffened, and I clenched my jaw in response. Backstabber nipples. He didn’t recognize me yet. He once said I was the only woman he fucked but here he was supposedly weak, making sexual advancement to a lady he was almost certain wasn’t me.

"You do know how much I want you right? You do know I want to fuck you until you can't stand comfortably in your heels right? You do know I want to fuck you until those skillful hands of yours fall limply by your sides" He breathed. My heart thumped in my chest, at least half a minute passed, but I didn't say anything as his hand moved down to my thigh, caressing. Our breathing and the muted noise of the city below were the only sounds in the still air of his bedroom.

“Turn around, Margaret.” His soothing voice cracked the silence and I straightened my back, eyes facing forward. Gradually I turned, his hand skimming across me and sliding to my hip. I could feel the way his hand stretched from his fingertips on my lower back all the way to where his thumb pressed against the soft skin just in front of my hip bone. I looked down to meet his eyes, which looked intently back at me. I could see his chest rising and falling, each breath deeper than the last. A muscle trembled in his sharp jaw as his thumb began to move, slowly sliding back and forth, his eyes never leaving mine. He was waiting for me to stop him; there had been plenty of time for me to shove him away, or simply veer around and leave. But I had too many feelings to sort out before I could react. I had never felt this way, and I had never expected to feel this about him. I wanted to slap him, and then pull him up by his shirt and lick his neck.

“I know who you are, Margaret”