A flash of light. The feeling of cold steel. Grogginess. Madeline pushed herself up wearily, her eyes painfully adjusting to the sterile white light. She had been laying on the floor, though she could hardly remember how or why she got there. Only as her pupils began to focus did she suddenly realize that she had no idea where she was.
The room was modestly sized, composed of one solid wall of mirrors and the remainder of the surfaces where pristine white. White hard floor, white walls, brightly lit white ceiling. In the center of the room, against one of the walls, was a large bed, the linens adorned in crisp clean white. To her left, Madeline noted a small white table protruding from the wall with two white benches where chair height should have been, both similarly attached. There was a small room off of that side of the main chamber that was obviously devoted to a simple bathroom: toilet, sink, and shower. All white.
Madeline's head spun and she let out a feeble groan. The floor was chilling her skin and she looked down to realize that her clothing, or near lack thereof, was new and white as well. It was a simple spaghetti strap night gown ending at her high thigh. The brush of the fabric against her flesh told her two things: It was silky and agreeable, and, she wasn't wearing under garments. Worse, the way the silk moved against her skin, some liberties had been taken with her grooming.
A deep groan from behind her snapped her attention instantly to the source. The most gorgeous and well sculpted man she had ever seen was just starting to awaken. Like her, he was laying on the cold floor, and scarcely clad at all. He wore only a pair of long, white pajama pants, probably also made of silk by the looks of it, and likely just as thin as the skimpy nighty she was wearing.
The man fulfilled every unspoken criteria of perfection that Madeline had ever unconsciously considered. He had chiseled, sharp features, clean cut dark hair, and model worthy rippling muscles. Her face flushed simply looking at him and if it weren't for the foreignness of the situation, Madeline would have melted in his presence.
His eyes fluttered open, revealing a deep cobalt blue. His head turned at the sound of Madeline's involuntary gasp and the beautiful blue orbs locked onto her cool, light grey eyes with intense confusion. For just a moment, they scanned her form. Her dark wavey hair was tied in a half up do, allowing her locks to hang loosely against her chest and small tendrils of chestnut to fall into her ivory face. The gown nicely displayed her natural charms, large for her frame but not so big that they would get in the way. She was slender and flawless; just how he liked his women. While he had a rugged beauty that drove women wild, this woman had the pristine look of complete innocence that demanded protection. The sensation swelled within him, suddenly alerting him to the thinness of his pants.
"What the-" he let out, instantly flipping over to his stomach and vaulting himself to his feet with all the ease of the seasoned athlete his form purported. Like Madeline had done from her stationary position on the floor, the man was now actively searching the room with wild eyes.
Madeline gasped as he jumped up, pushing herself up with wild eyes. "Where are we?" She asked barely above a whisper. Her chest heaved from the anxiety.
"No idea," the man answered gruffly. He hadn't meant to, nor was he fully aware of Madeline's surprised expression at the tone. "Who are you? Do we know each other?"
Madeline shook her head. "M-madeline," she offered in a soft voice. "Madeline Parker."
The man turned to consider her for a moment. The soft spoken voice pushed his sensations of protectiveness even further and it took only the connection of their eyes for him to decide that she was his charge. "I'm Alex Longton," he answered firmly. "Look, don't worry. We'll figure out what's going on. Here, you need a hand?" He reached down, offering to help her up.
Madeline nodded slightly, offering him a look of complete trust, as she accepted his hand. Alex pulled her up easily and his stature dwarfed hers. He was taller than her, but broader as well. There was nothing he could do about the partial beginning to form beneath the thin silken veil and he rather hoped she wouldn't notice, though he knew that wouldn't be possible for long.
Madeline did indeed notice. She was equally attracted to him, but in her propriety, she kept her eyes attuned to the upper half of his body. "Do you remember anything?" he asked. "Did we meet at a club or something?" That was the last place he remembered being.
Madeline cocked a skeptical eyebrow. "Not unless that club happened to be in a library," she offered, revealing a subtle Irish accent. She shook her head. "I... I don't remember anything."
