Claimed by the Biker Giant (Maxine and Tank) novel Chapter 236

Storm POV

Stripping Cloe while she was asleep was interesting; she was so out of it. Maybe one of the meds Dotty gave was to put her to sleep. It wouldn’t shock me if it was. Cloe was so wired, maybe meds were the only way to stop her brain from working all the time. By the time I had Cloe down to her underwear, I had a raging horn, and had to cover her up, and head to the bathroom, and release that tension, I was in the shower, the water not on, just somewhere to stand, one hand on the wall, for support the other took the matter in hand, visions of Cloe, her body, her perky firm breasts, they way she moaned in the shower, and I was gone. It was quick, the fastest hand job ever, and I nearly collapsed to the floor, with all that it took out of me. I was panting, out of breath. In no time at all, that girl was part of me now. I will chase her around the world if I have to, to make her mine. I used the handheld shower head, rinsed off my jizz, and headed back to bed.

Carefully climbed in, and gently pulled Cloe to me, and promptly fell asleep, with a contented smile on my face.

A soft slap across the face woke me up, surprised, and I turned my head to see Cloe’s embarrassed face staring back at me. It was so adorable, not the way I want to wake up, but I will accept it. I took Cloe to the bathroom, washed her, and had a roaring horn again by the time I was done. That unexpected groan almost had me combust right there. I had to stop washing Cloe’s hair and get control of myself. When I left her to dry herself, I had to take my shaft into my hand again. At this rate, I am going to be spending a lot of time in the bathroom, as a cold shower isn’t working. When I spurted my load into the water, and was more relaxed, and sang a song that had been circling my mind all night, and was still there when I woke up. ‘Kylie Minogue’s: Can’t get you out of my head.’ and it’s true, I can’t get Cloe out of my head. She’s all I can think about.

When I came out, she was sitting on the bed, with the towels around her, as if waiting for me.

Of course, she’s waiting for me.

I didn’t leave Cloe, her clothes, or the wheelchair so that she couldn’t get off the bed. I am so insensitive, I didn’t think. I need to do better, especially now, while she’s so vulnerable and not yet ready to try certain things herself. Not after that fall that had to have shattered her growing confidence, and with losing her legs so soon, she might feel she has no choice in anything that matters to her.

“What would you like to wear? Are you intending to go to the paint booth? If so, a long-sleeve shirt and track pants?” I needed her to make the choices; Dad and Mum both drilled into my head to give her choices. Mentioning something about her life didn’t have many, so we intend to give Cloe some.

“If Fixer is available to let me in. I would love to start the day there and finish in the office to work on my assignment.” Good, that gives me a baseline to work with. I moved to the walk-in robe, collected two colors, and offered them to her. Cloe took the red ones this time, and I embarrassed her again when I offered two sets of underwear. Again, Mum said she needed to learn in the early days, that she would get embarrassed a lot, and it would be best with me, rather than with someone else, so Cloe can get used to me doing things that might be uncomfortable. In time, we are hopeful, it will hardly bother her.

Cloe allows me to help with the panties and tracksuit. I left her to do her top half and got dressed myself. After I was finished and had combed my beard and hair, I turned to watch Cloe, who was trying to do something with the bottom of her track pants, not sure what, but it appears Cloe doesn’t want the bottom empty part dangling.

“What’s wrong with your pants?’ I squatted down in front of her and looked up, my hands on her knees.

“Can we tuck them in? They look odd, like that.” I folded the legs inside; to me, they looked bulky, but Cloe seemed happier with the result.

“Want me to do your hair?” I offered as I reached for the brush.

“I can do it. Were those tablets all I had to take this morning?” Cloe asked as I took the wet towels away.

“Son, don’t let her overdo it,” Mum warned me, and now I know why she wanted me to help clear the table.

“We are only painting for a couple of hours, after lunch, we are both working on our studies,” I reassured her, the best I could.

“Good, her body needs the rest. Keep her mind busy. The doctor added a sedative for the night and a relaxant for the morning. It might make Cloe sluggish, but the doctor was worried about Cloe; she was already trying to do too much. That girl doesn’t know the meaning of rest. I think her family had her working all the time, even when she was hurting. Take it easy on her.” I didn’t need to be told that, but if I see that father of hers, I might lose it.

“Have you investigated her Dad yet?” I asked, knowing it was on the to-do list.

“Yes, Uncle Simon has already received some reports, but was still digging deeper before any decisions regarding that family were made.” We talked a bit more before the table was done, and we left the dishes for the staff to clean.

Cloe was seated by Mum, and together they went through the equipment. Cloe was able to use the airgun at work that wasn’t detailed, so she could get used to handling it and try out different things. Mum had me sanding tanks and guards, ready for painting, so I was close by but not getting involved in what they were doing together. It felt good watching the two together, like this.