My lips twisted into a smirk of amusement as I remembered my new houseguest. Still sleeping off the chloroform in the guest bedroom.

Leaning back in my padded chair, I gazed at the clutter littering the mahogany surface of my desk. The damn paperwork seemed to multiply by the day, and just glancing at the stacks of it brought a twinge of pain behind my brow. These front companies felt like more work than they were worth.

I had been hoping to be rid of one sheet of paper inside the open drawer to my left, but Gregory Barns seemed to have a different plan. I was honestly surprised that man had enough of a moment of sobriety to understand that Maddox Stone wanted his money back.

Barns had been just another idiot biting off more than he could chew at the tables. It was really quite comical how he kept coming back to get his ass kicked, his wallet lighter every time he left. Soon, the bastard had been running on credit. And credit always comes due.

But the son of a bitch had decided to run. While not preferable when I wanted a quick and easy solution, a good hunt once in a while gets the blood flowing. And now I have an unexpected guest. Closing the drawer, I strided across the hardwood floors of my office to pour myself a whiskey.

Of course, I couldn't complain about it. At first the idea was to simply put the unlucky son to work in one of the clubs to work off the debt. Afterall, Roland, my right hand, had plopped Austin Barns folder on my desk not thirty minutes ago, and the boy was accustomed to working in a club.

Granted, the club he had been employed in before I asked Roland to send in his notices hadn't really cared that he wasn't the legal drinking age, they still let him work behind the bar. He wouldn't fare so well with me. He'd more than likely be working the pole. He had the looks. Those strong cheekbones, trim waist, and the hint of muscle definement would be perfect for the stage.

I swirled my half empty glass and contemplated the closed door of my home office while continuing to ponder. An idea had taken root as I had supervised my men laying Austin out on the bed, the chloroform fast acting. Over the hour that had ticked by, the idea had sprouted and continued to grow. The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea.

Moving back to my desk, I switched the tv in the corner of the room on, and black and white footage of a still passed out Austin blinked to life. He really was beautiful. Those lips would look perfect wrapped around my cock, and those wavy strands were just long enough for me to get a decent grip.

I had really made up my mind when I ordered him to be stripped naked before being placed in his room, that I was going to keep him. But the image of his gorgeous cock, although flaccid in sleep, and perfect ass just hammered home my decision. God, I could just imagine a stark red handprint against the flawless skin, his cries and pleads for more as I rammed my cock inside his twitching hole.

Palming the own bulge in my suit pants, I considered undoing the zipper when a knock startled me out of my thoughts. Sitting back in my chair, I shifted to more comfortably accommodate my erection before calling enter.

Ever handy Roland entered, silently crossing by the unlit fireplace and bare walls. He held up a sheaf of papers, placing them on one of the only uncluttered spots on my desk after my nod. I smirked at his retreating back and swiveled to look out the floor to ceiling window, gazing out into the sunrise on the garden.

A noise from the tv caused me to swivel back around. I felt my cock once again stir to life as Austin pushed himself up with a palm on the blankets beneath him, shaking his head as if trying to clear it. Austin elicited a low groan, and I saw a small wet spot begin to spread on my slacks as my shaft began to leak.

My voice echoed in the cavernous space as I spoke, without taking my eyes off the screen, "This is going to be fun."

My head felt as if someone had taken a jackhammer to it, and my body like a car plowed it into the asphalt. Was I hung over? No, I hadn't drunk even a sip in years. Dad had ruined alcohol for me pretty early in life, and I couldn't risk Tj's well being by being out of it. Oftentimes, I was the only thing between him and a black eye or a few cracked ribs, courtesy of loving dad of course.

Using my hand as leverage, I pushed up to get a take of the room around me. I blinked a few times and shook my protesting head to make sure I wasn't seeing things. But no, the pristine white and lime striped walls looked back at me. A single bedside table sat beside me, and a armoire stood across the room from the dark metal bedposts by my feet. The white satin blankets beneath me were still there as well when I ran my hand across it.

Testing the mattress beneath me, I had to fight the urge to lay back down on it. Frankly, it felt like heaven, very unlike the old and lumpy one Tj and I used.

Oh dear God, am I dead?!

Shooting into a sitting position on my knees, I ignored the throbbing pain once again behind my temples. Ok, I don't think I'm dead. Otherwise, heaven is kinda a let down, considering my head still hurts this bad.

A faint itch popped up on my stomach, and I absently scratched it before pieces clicked in my foggy brain. "I'm naked?!"

Staring at my naked torso in horror, the events of earlier tonight came flooding back. Oh no. Oh no no no no no.

"Oh fuck no."

Diving for the sheets, I yanked them out of their neatly made positions and wrapped them around myself till I resembled something akin to a caterpillar in its cocoon. The man had said something about dad having debts, and that I would suffice. How would I suffice?! Am I supposed to pay back this man? I have only about five hundred dollars squirreled away in my hiding place, and from the look of the man's clothes, and this room, five hundred dollars wouldn't be a sum to get worked up over for this man. Despite the room being pretty bare bones, it was clear the stuff was of good quality. Hell, there was even a chandelier above the bed!

I'm not totally positive how long I sat there, silently shaking, as I valiantly tried to get the blankets to swallow me. The door swung open and my head shot up. A brilliant pair of green eyes drilled into mine and I felt myself unconsciously shrink back. The flame of lust in those eyes burned so bright, I feared the heat would singe the blankets protecting me. My cheeks flushed as I realised a small tent had formed in the thin blankets between my legs.

Emerald eyes followed my gaze, and his trademark smirk appeared on those handsome lips. I wanted to berate my cock for its actions, but my thoughts weren't nearly coherent enough to form a sentence, my eyes still glued to his lips.

The slight thud of a stack of papers against the mattress in front of me broke the spell I had been under. What the hell is wrong with me? I haven't had sex in months, that's what's wrong with me. I almost want to snort mirthlessly at myself, but my attention was grabbed by Mr. Sexy holding a pen out to me.

"Sign it." his voice rumbled at me and I nearly choked on my saliva, being so close to the man.

Glancing back down at the hill of paperwork, I shook my head, disbelieving. "You can't be serious."

His raised eyebrow very clearly told me his answer.

A little voice inside my head was screaming at me that I should tear-what I could now see was a contract-to pieces. Instead, I carefully scanned the first few paragraphs. My heart felt like it dropped to my feet.

Feeling like a parrot, I once again said, "You can't be serious."

Placing the pen on the bed, Maddox Stone-the owner of the contract, and who I assume is the powerful man standing before me-began to sedately pace around the room. On anyone else, the gesture would look nervous. But on him, with his leisurous steps, hands clasped loosely behind his back, his one glove still covering his right hand, it looked casual.

The glove seemed almost out of place, but yet like it was a part of him. Maddox had ditched his suit jacket for only the white button up, top buttons undone to reveal a dusting of dark hairs on a muscular and well defined chest. Sleeves rolled to the elbows to expose forearms flexing with power.

A few more paragraphs down, and I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to go home.

But worst of all, I wanted him to push me down on the bed and have his way with me. Something I was not going to let happen, no matter how much I wanted it. And from the look in those green eyes, how much he wanted it either.