His Body of Work

Chapter 3

Mase woke up with a groan. Her head was banging, and her neck had stiffened painfully. She didn't remember going to bed and wondered why her covers felt weird.

Suddenly, memories came crashing through her head, making the ache even worse.

She'd gone to the job interview, she'd followed the instructions of the strange disembodied voice, and then she'd been naked on a podium in an abandoned warehouse and her head felt light before she hit the deck and her lights went out. What she couldn't figure out was where she was now.

Moments later, a man strode into the room carrying an ice pack like they give to children who fall over in school.

Even in her confused and pained state, Mase was distracted by him. He was truly stunning. He must have been well over 6 feet tall. His strong, thick legs were evident even under the light grey jeans he wore low on his hips. He had a few chains dangling from his pockets but no belt. His torso, which was narrow at the waist but opened up into clearly defined pecs, was pootly hidden by a soft looking gray t-shirt. A leather cuff wound around his sturdy wrist, and exquisite tattoos that started on the back of his hands snaked their way up his muscular arms to where there disappeared under his sleeve.

What really captured Mase's attention was his face, where a shadow of stubble peppered his square jaw. He had prominent cheekbones, a strong nose, and brow that made him look as if a Neanderthal had been drawn by a Vogue editor. His hair was black, but like his beard was peppered with grey hair, which only highlighted the contrast with his piercing blue-gray eyes.

Mase realised she was staring and her mouth was hanging open.

"Thank f**k you are awake!" he exclaimed.

She recognised the voice instantly as the deep rumble she had heard over the speaker.

"You passed out in my studio. Are you ok? what happened? I didn't see you go down." He had sat on the edge of the unknown bed looking concerned. Despite his outward demeanor, his voice sounded angry.

"Wh-Wherrre am I?" Mase's voice was barely more than a whisper.

He paused a moment before answering.

"You are in my apartment at the back of the studio warehouse you came to for the interview as a model."

"Yes, I remember that stuff." She looked down at her hands and fidgeted as she spoke. "I just... I don't know what happened. I think I fainted."

A low growl of annoyance came from the man. "Had you eaten before coming here, Ms Swan?"

Mase shook her head and instantly regretted it as her brain throbbed in her skull. A large hand appeared in her lap, offering up the ice pack just as she winced.

For a brief moment, as she took the ice pack from his hands, their fingers brushed, and their eyes caught.

"Do you want me to do it?" he asked in a strangely soft voice whilst holding her gaze.

Flames ignited in Mase's belly, and all she could do was whisper, "Please."

She wasn't sure what she was asking for but when the stunning strange man who's bed she was in moved around behind her and started to undo her bun, running his hands gently through her hair, her breath hitched and her heart raced.

Once her bun was out, he bent down and spoke in a gentle tone millimeters from the shell of her ear, "Tell me if it hurts."

One of his hands slid up from the base of her neck to thread through her hair. He gently pulled aside sections that he made until he found the cut on her scalp. She hissed in pain as he wiped it with something that stung before placing the ice pack gently on the offending area.

They sat in silence for a moment. His hand still cupped her head, her heartbeat continued to race, his proximity leaving her on high alert.

After a moment, he murmered, "Next time you come, you will ensure you have eaten. If you come straight from class, you will eat when you are here. If you do not have enough money to cover food, you will come and find me." he paused as he shifted, causing the heat he was radiating to intensify. "If you do not follow my rules, you will leave my employment, Ms Swan. Are we clear?"

"Um, yes..." She paused and realised she didn't know his name. "What is your name?"

"Oh, yes, well, I'm going to need you to sign an NDA as well as your employment contract when you feel a little better, but my name is Clarke Huntsman. I am an art professor at the University but, my personal work has attracted some bad press in the past, so I would appreciate it if you kept this to yourself.''

The hand cradling her head dropped, and he retreated from her slightly. Only the chill of the ice pack remained, and she shivered a little.

"Yes, sure, ok." She murmered back.

"Good, I'm going to make you some toast, and then you will take some painkillers and go home for today." he hadn't moved, but she could feel his whole demeanor had shifted. "Put your hand up for me."

Mase reached up, and the ice pack landed in her hand before Clarke moved away. A short time later, the smell of toast filled the air, and she gratefully wolfed it down before swallowing the pills he gave her.

It was only then that she realised she was still naked in Clarke's bed.

After trying to move too quickly and managing to stumble to her feet whilst his back was turned, she found her backpack and clothes at the bottom of the bed.

Clarke kept his distance as she left through a back door in the warehouse, but agreed that she would return the next day after she reassured him on at least 10 occasions she wouldn't be home alone with a head injury.

20 minutes later, she was at home in bed, telling her flatmate Shelly about her day whilst they shared a tub of ice cream. Whilst the chatted, the butterflies in her stomach never left, knowing she'd see the mysterious art professor again the next day.