Page 2 of Up in a Blaze (Polished P & P #4)

CHAPTER TWO

HENRI

H ours later, when the doors opened again, I looked up from the computer and through the clear protective partition in front of my desk and smiled. Moving closer to the gap so I would be heard, I called, “Welcome to Polished P & P. How may I help you?”

As the man walked over, I took him in and easily guessed he was a businessman. He still wore his suit and had probably just come from work. He seemed around my fabulous thirties age.

He smiled friendly. “Hey, gorgeous. I have an appointment with Pixie.”

Ah, sweet little Pixie, real name Sawyer. He was a newbie and freshly turned eighteen. It made me uncomfortable to see such a shy, young man entertaining men. But I was sure he had his reasons for choosing this path.

It was something I wanted to know, but Blaze said I wasn’t allowed to question the employees.

“One moment, sir. I’ll see if he’s ready.

” I hadn’t seen him arrive. However, some employees entered via the back.

I brought up his name on the computer, and it was highlighted green, which told me he was here.

There was a room number allocated next to his name.

“Please make your way to the elevator. He’s on floor two, room 209. ”

Some workers liked to collect their customer and then others preferred the client to be sent up to the room.

“Thanks.” He grinned and leaned closer. “Have you ever thought about?—”

“No,” a cold and dark voice clipped from close by.

A voice I loved.

The man paled, straightened, and nodded to my man before he walked over to the elevator.

Heat hit my side, and I grinned when a warm hand gripped my hair to tug my head back. “I don’t like this job.”

“Mon amour, they can look and try, but I am not interested in any. You are the one I go home with.”

He growled under his breath, which made me tingle all over as he dipped to claim my mouth.

It was a brief kiss but one that still left me panting for more when he pulled away and tugged at my hair once again before he walked back over to his office and slammed the door after him.

Of course, the broody ogre couldn’t have an office away from me.

It was lucky Country, State, Saint, and Wreck allowed them to change the break room into their computer room.

They resituated the break room and bathroom to the back of the ground floor, where there were also another couple of offices off to the right of the building.

Though the main area of the ground floor held the waiting area with a few sitting spots and bathroom.

On the second and third floor, there were a couple of offices, bathrooms, a meeting room, and a couple of additional break rooms but most were bedrooms where the employees entertained clients.

Tech had shown me and Blaze around the place when I first started. But he didn’t let me witness any happenings inside the rooms.

Boo.

When the doors opened, Saint strode in and walked over to me. “Henri, what’s happenin’?” He was another brother to the Diamond MC, and I was closer to him and his lover, Gun. They were born with different names, but only their significant other was allowed to use it.

Not like my Blaze. His parents gave him his cool name when he was born.

The memory of the first time I met him and heard his name flashed through my mind.

Walking out of the nightclub, I turned left to go down the alleyway to get to my car when I stumbled across a big, scary-looking man sitting with his back to the wall and bleeding from a wound on his stomach.

When I stopped, he glared up at me.

“You’re bleeding,” I pointed out.

Of course, he said nothing, just stared.

Any other man would have run from just his look, but I was still a little drunk and a lot stupid since I also thought he was the handsomest man I had seen in a long time.

Even with blood coating his fitted gray tee.

Reaching for my phone in my back pocket, I told him, “I’ll call for help.”

“No.”

Even his sharp, rough tone should have put me on edge. Instead, I slapped my hands to my hips and glared. “Non? You are bleeding. You need assistance.”

“Don’t call anyone,” he warned. “Just fuckin’ leave.”

In French, I spewed, “I am no saint, but I will not leave a good-looking, scary idiot to die in a dirty alleyway. Even when they are acting like a growling beast.”

To my utter shock, he replied in French, “You think I’m good-looking?”

I harrumphed. “And a beast. Let me call for help.”

“No. You do it and I’ll make your life hell.”

“You won’t be alive to treat me to this hell, idiot.” When he said nothing, I sighed and looked up to the sky for guidance. Of course there was none, and I could not leave the fool to bleed out. “Fine. You probably know more about these wounds. You come home with me, and I’ll stitch you up.”

His gaze flared. “You’d have me in your home?”

Glowering, I told him, “It is either that or let you die, and I refuse to allow that to happen.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Non, but if you try anything, I will shout out to my cop friend next door. He will come running.”

He shifted and winced but then nodded.

Reaching down, I tried my best to help him to his feet. He wobbled and groaned and did most of the work because the man was built like an ox.

“I am parked on the street.” I glanced at the blood. “Maybe you should stay here, and I will bring the car to pick you up.”

“You just helped me stand. I’ll be fine.”

I doubted it. He was very pale, and if anyone saw him, they would think I had done something. But I wasn’t wasting time arguing. I had a feeling, from the doctor shows I watched, that this man needed to be stitched up as soon as possible.

“Come then,” I ordered, looping his arm around my shoulders while I placed one of mine around his waist.

The injured man stared down at me for a beat but then shuffled forward, and together we made it to the street and car without an incident. It was lucky I had driven that night and been able to park so close to the club.

As soon as I had him strapped in the passenger seat, I rushed around to the driver side and got in.

I started the car, pulled out, and drove off while wondering if I was doing the right thing.

I could just drive him to the hospital and drop him off.

“Don’t even think about it,” the beast warned.

Scowling over at him for a moment, I cursed at him in French.

The man snorted before he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Henri. You?”

“Blaze.”

Rolling my eyes, I pulled into my driveway and looked around. It was late, and no one seemed about. When I looked back at the man, I said, “You could just say you would prefer not to tell me your name instead of lying.”

“I ain’t lying. Grandfather’s name was Blaze after the poet and writer Bla?e Koneski.” He blinked slowly at me. “Why the fuck did I tell you that?”

“Relax, la bête . I do not spread secrets.” Just my legs, and if he wasn’t an asshole bleeding all over my car, I would have given him a chance.

Maybe.

“Let’s get you inside before you pass out.”

“I won’t,” he grumbled.

Muttering under my breath about the foolish, sexy man, I got out of the car and went around to his side to assist him. I searched our surroundings as we slowly made our way to the front door.

Once in the living room, I asked, “Can you stand there for a moment?”

When he grunted, I raced off to grab my sewing kit and first aid box, as well as the shower curtain in the downstairs bathroom that I yanked off its rail. I was not letting him ruin my couch.

I lay the curtain down on the seat and told him, “Sit.”

Surprisingly, he did without a word, and then he managed to lead me through removing the bullet, stitching him up, and covering his wound before he passed out.

Sitting back on my knees, I stared at the half-naked man before me. It had to hurt when I patched him up, but he hadn’t cursed at me or threatened me in any way.

I could call for help now. The police. An ambulance, since I wasn’t sure I did a good enough job. What happened if it became infected? How would he get antibiotics?

Should I pick the brain of my neighbor who had been on the force but had retired ten years ago?

Sighing, I stood and removed all the mess.

Before I cleaned myself up, I placed a few towels down on the couch and kind of pushed and shoved Blaze down to pull the curtain out from under him.

With a lot of cursing and grunting, I picked up his tree-trunk legs and placed them along the couch so he was lying flat.

Why did I help him?

I could have walked away.

Then again, I liked helping. I liked knowing I was able to do something.

Taking a smaller cushion, I placed it under his head and took the throw blanket off the back of the couch to rest over him.

“What am I thinking leaving a man in my house?” I asked myself. He could kill me. Obviously, he’d done something that someone didn’t like since they hurt him. With unease, I placed the curtain in the washing machine and grabbed a spare from the linen closet to hang.

I took one look at my guest before walking out of the room to lock the front door.

Once upstairs in my bedroom, I showered quickly in my en suite.

I would usually slip under the sheets naked, but I dressed in sleep clothes.

I made sure my phone had enough charge in case I needed to call for help.

Though, I already had a feeling I wouldn’t.

He could have lashed out at any time or left, but there was some part of me that thought he wanted to stay. He wanted my help and company.

Or I could be reading it all wrong and die through the night.

After that charming thought, it took me a while to get to sleep. When I woke six hours later, I gasped, remembering my guest downstairs.

It was early, but I felt the need to check on him. For all I knew, he could have stolen all my things while I slept.

With a robe on, I made my way downstairs and saw Blaze sitting up on the couch, watching television on low. He followed my every step as I moved closer.

“Would you like pain meds?”

He tipped his chin up.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I cocked a brow. “Does that mean yes?”

“Please,” he forced out.

Smiling, I nodded. “That is better.” Turning, I headed toward the kitchen.

When I returned with the medication, he opened his eyes and lifted his head off the back of the couch.

I held out a bottle of water and after he uncapped it, I placed the two tablets onto his palm.

“They have pain relief and anti-inflammatory in them.”

He grunted and swallowed them down.

I wouldn’t mind watching his throat work while he swallowed around my cock.

Said cock twitched under my sleep pants.

I shouldn’t be thinking of him like that. For all I knew, he could be homophobic.

Then why was he outside a gay club? Unless he’d just been in the area.

“You gonna stare at me all day?” he asked.

“Since you are in my house, chéri , I can do whatever I like.”

“Then you wanna stare at me while I shower?”

My mouth dropped open as my stomach tingled.

Was that really an option, or was he teasing? It was hard to tell with his straight face.

“I might need to in case you fall over.”

Baiser , am I really flirting with a dangerous man?

Did I really want to see him fully naked?

Oui, I honestly did, and if he was willing to show me, who was I to argue against his choice?

With a groan, he stood and pressed a hand to his wound. Bruises marred his big build, but they were less of a worry than the gunshot I’d stitched up.

“Show me the way,” he said, still without any facial expression so I didn’t know if he was uncomfortable with me tagging along or if he really was teasing me.

“Fine.” I turned and took him to the guest bathroom downstairs. Not that I had guests who slept over. The acquaintances I had all lived in the same area and went to their own homes on nights out.

I reached into the shower and started the water while I waited for Blaze to confess he was messing with me and wanted me out of the bathroom.

He could be into guys, but I doubted I was to his taste. I probably mouthed off too much. He looked like he was used to a docile partner—someone who didn’t argue back. That would never be me.

And why would I even think about being with a man I just met who had been beaten and shot for some reason?

That was just asking for trouble.

Although, trouble could bring a bit of fun to my life.

“The water is warm, not too hot,” I said.

When he didn’t reply, I turned and swallowed my tongue.

He was naked. Completely naked.

My gaze slowly ran over his form and ate up every delectable inch of this beast of a man.

That was a nice cock. A cock that twitched under my stare.

Quickly, I looked up at the man in front of me.

“You gonna get outta the way or join me in there?”

Holy fuck . Had I died? Had he actually killed me?

His lips kicked up in the corner for a moment before he schooled his features again. “At least I know what makes you silent.”

My feathers ruffled, and in French, I snapped, “I will never stay silent for long, so don’t enjoy it too much.”

“Get in the shower, Henri.”

I flicked my gaze to his hardening dick, to his wound, and back up to his eyes. “It seems you don’t like me silent.”

“Shower. Now.”

“And if I say non?”

“Then you can leave. I’d never force someone.”

Liking his words a lot, I sighed like I wasn’t really into this, when it was the complete opposite, and removed my robe.

“I suppose you will need a hand in the shower.”

He snorted. But he didn’t argue with me.

Saint rapped his knuckles against the partition, and I blinked back into the now as he said, “Henri, you okay?”

Nodding, I smiled. “Yes, and I was just getting to the good part of a memory.”

Saint chuckled, waving a hand my way. “Is that what the drool is about?”

Rolling my eyes, I leaned forward, resting my chin on my hands, elbows to my desk. “The only time I drool, mon ami , is when Blaze has my mouth stuffed full.”

Saint groaned. “I walked right into that one.”

Grinning, I winked. “You did. Are you here taking over from Wreck?”

“Yeah, and I’m gonna head to my office now before Blaze shoots me for spending too much time around you.”

With a scoff, I shook my head and leaned back in my seat. “How will he know?”

Saint grinned and glanced behind me. “Hey, Blaze.”

There was a grunt before Saint walked off. Next, my hair was snagged, and my head was tugged back. He nipped at my chin with his teeth. “Time to eat.”

Smiling, I then licked my lips. “I could use a meal.”

Shaking his head, he kissed me quickly and pulled back. “Food, firecracker.”

“I’m here,” Isobell announced, racing across the waiting area. She was one of the sex workers but also filled in at the reception desk when I needed my time away.

I blew her a kiss and stood, taking my man’s hand. “Feed me then, mon amour .”