CHAPTER 7
Sahvrin lay on the couch that night, unable to sleep as every moment of the day kept revisiting him, particularly the tits fight. She was still pissed, and he was sure she always would be as long as she thought what she did. The more he tried to fix it, the worse it got, so he quit trying, not wanting to hurt her even if she was doing it to herself. He didn’t like her thinking he was into women outside of her and he couldn’t really tell her either without causing things he didn’t want to. No, he wanted to, but he wouldn’t because if she’d proven anything to him today it was how she was not made to live in the swamp.
And she’d better not fucking cut her hair.
The sound of thunder rumbled, and he listened for signs of His Petite being awake. He needed to wean both of them from his initial hovering now that she was healing. A minute later, the thunder rumbled louder.
“Sahvrin?” she whispered loudly.
“Yes?”
“Uh… you’re awake?”
“Yes.”
She was quiet. “Okay… Night.”
“Do you need me to lay with you?”
She didn’t answer and he got up, making his way to the bed. “Push over.”
“I didn’t answer,” she said as she scooted over.
“You didn’t need to,” he said, laying at the edge of the bed.
“I was actually about to say I didn’t need you to.”
“Well, I can go back on the couch.”
“That’s silly, you’re already here. Unless you want to, then obviously you can.”
“I don’t want to.”
The thunder boomed and she was suddenly glued to his back. “Turn over, Ma Petite.”
She quickly turned and he did as well, draping his arm over her. She clutched his arm tightly between both hands and he pulled her closer at feeling her tremble.
He spoke soft French, stroking her forehead with his other hand till she fell asleep. When it sounded like the storm passed, he moved to untangle himself, getting her soft moan and relatching to his arm.
Mon Dieu.
He settled back down, resolving to just sleep. Tomorrow, he’d finish the tub and start working on the bracelet he’d get 8-Bit to embed a tracker in. That way he didn’t have to worry about losing her again.
Sleep finally claimed him followed with more of those naughty Petite dreams. This time when he woke up, her fingers were in his hair and her leg covered his hard on with his hand on her leg. Mon Dieu, was this where his dreams came from?
He eased her leg off and sat up, then stood. Glancing back, he froze at seeing half her breast pushing out the top of the nearly sheer tank she wore. He lowered his gaze and the plump strawberry shapes topping her delicate mounds clobbered his cock and tickled the Bishops ruthless vengeance. How big would her nipples get when aroused?
He forced himself away from the torment, heading out the door to relieve himself. He hadn’t done it in years, but he was convinced if he didn’t jack off soon, he’d do something worse.
****
It had taken everything for Beth not to move when Sahvrin realized it. At some point in the morning, she’d waken to him pressing her leg into his erection. She didn’t dare disturb him because…well, she didn’t mind him feeling good, even wanted that, God did she ever. And technically she wasn’t doing anything, just being asleep and oblivious while he didn’t realize what he was doing. Why say anything? It was an awkward they could do without after the stupid crap that happened yesterday. When she’d finally heard the outside door, she opened her eyes and let out a breath. She looked down to see if she was decent. God, he no doubt saw her nipples through her top. Wasn’t like she knew a storm would come and he’d sleep with her. If she had she’d have dressed differently.
Now she wondered what he thought of them. Her clit tingled as visions of his naked body returned from when she’d walked in on him. It had been cycling non-stop in her head.
Dear. God. She’d only seen his backside but that was traumatizing enough. He’d had a huge tattoo on his back and now she was curious about it. But his tight, muscular butt was forever etched into her mind as was the dark tan line right above it.
Such a delicious tan he had. She wanted one. The no shirts in the swamp argument returned, chilling the heat in her body. She recalled there were shorts in the clothes and a sports bra. That could serve as tanning attire. Where would she find the sun? Sure as hell wasn’t going back in that garden. Yet.
The dock in the back would eventually have sun on it. She’d ask Sahvrin. There was nothing wrong with getting her skin prepared for the swamp. It was a necessity, really. And it didn’t require work so he shouldn’t have a problem with it.
Couldn’t handle the swamp, she’d see about that. Sure, there were things to get used to, duh. She was a survivor; she could handle it. Spiders and all.
She hurried out of bed and into the bathroom before he could come back in. She took down the bag of clothes hanging on the hook and found a little happy surprise. The white top she’d seen wasn’t a top at all but a whole piece bathing suit! Yes!
She put it on and ran into a life-long plague. Her fat butt. Ugh! She couldn’t wear this damn swimsuit around him, no way! She could wear the shorts over it. People tanned that way, didn’t they?
Who cares, she could tan anyway she wanted. She could ask him to stay on that side of the house so she could. He could handle that, Mr. never wanting to see women naked. What a saint. What a Bishop.
She paused then smiled remembering one thing. He loved her hair. For that, she’d wear it loose for him but in a ponytail for her. Happy medium.
By the time she came out the bathroom, Sahvrin was cooking at the stove. She’d decided to pretend they didn’t fight yesterday and today was a new day, clean slate. “Morning, how did you sleep?” she asked, panic slamming her at the worst question she could possibly ask if he’d remembered or been aware of what happened.
“Slept hard,” he said in his low, sexy voice, making her womb jerk.
“You must’ve been tired. Musta needed rest.” Shut up now. Move on. “Is that coffee I smell?”
“It is,” he said. “Want a cup?”
“I was about to get it. Did you have a cup yet?”
“Was fixing to.”
“I can get it,” she said, grabbing a second cup before he could deny her. “Whatcha cooking? Always smells amazing.”
She watched him in those delicious jeans and white t-shirt, chopping onions. “Crazy Omelet.”
“Oh, yum. What’s crazy about it?” She looked down at the coffee and glanced at him, catching him staring at her shorts. Or was he looking at her butt in them? God, how embarrassing. Bet he wasn’t thinking her malnourished now.
“What’s crazy is the order you cook it. You fry your meat and vegetables first then crack the eggs right on top before gently flipping it.”
“Sounds more genius than crazy. I’m so hungry!” She brought his coffee to him, and he set his knife down, wiping his eyes on his sleeve right as the sting of onions hit her.
“Whoa,” she said, backing up and blinking around the sting.
“Usually I cut them quick and miss the eye mutilation.”
“Eye mutilation,” she said with a little giggle. “Sorry,” she added, sipping her cup.
“For what?”
Hmm. She was always assuming the wrong things with him. “I was thinking I may have caused it somehow. The uh…” she wagged her fingers at her eyes “…distraction.”
He chuckled. “You were thinking right.” He walked over to the sink and turned on the water, splashing his face then patting it dry with a dish towel while she burned to know what that meant. He went back to the stove and dumped his onions and other colorful things in a big black skillet, creating a hiss of smoke that soon turned the kitchen into a nose paradise.
“I was thinking to start working on my tan today. Where would I find the best place to do that here? Anywhere but the garden.”
He let out a laugh, angling his sexy look at her. “The back dock at two has sun for a couple hours, but that’s too long for you.”
“Why?”
“Because the ice queen might get heat stroke.”
“I just need an hour,” she said, getting his head shake.
“Thirty minutes for your first time. Fifteen minutes on one side, fifteen on the other.”
“That’s all?”
He nodded and she wanted to argue but bit her tongue. “Fine, thirty minutes it is. I was thinking you could give me privacy. Mah-Mah packed a bathing suit and I’d like to use it to suntan.”
His humored look made her feel stupid.
“What?”
“You need privacy with a bathing suit? I would think you might if you were planning to sunbathe naked.”
Her pulse sped up at just the word. What was he saying. “I’ve…never sunbathed naked. Not even in a tanning bed.”
He shrugged, cracking eggs in the pot now as she wondered what he was thinking, why was he saying that? “I don’t…really care to show off my body is all,” she added.
“This must be difficult at pools for you?” He stirred without looking at her all while she felt like he was proving some point rather than making casual conversation as his tone implied.
“I don’t like doing it there especially.”
“But you do?”
“Yes, but if I had a choice, I would rather nobody see.”
He nodded, hitting the spoon on the edge of the pot. “It’s unfortunate you think you have no choices in these situations.”
Okay what the hell was he saying? “I guess I could choose to not go to swimming pools and even beaches, yes. I just…figured I was odd for having an issue with it since everybody else seems to be fine about it. So I pushed through it.”
“Well, now you don’t have to push through anything. If you want to you can, if you don’t, then don’t do it. It’s your life, your body, your preference. Nobody else. You want to tan alone, then you will tan alone. You want to tan nude, tan nude. I will not look if you don’t want me to.”
Her brain sputtered at those last words. If she didn’t want him to? Was he saying he wanted to watch if she wanted him to? He’d said yesterday, very clearly, he didn’t want to see any women naked. Ohhhh wait a minute, he’d said her being in the scenario changed it. Mercy. Was he telling her he wanted to watch her naked?
“Okay,” she finally said, realizing she’d not answered. “Thank you.” Wasn’t sure what she was thanking him for now. And if she wanted him to watch, how was she supposed to tell him that? The idea had her beyond aroused. She set her coffee down, needing a cold water.
****
Sahvrin was playing with fire, he knew. And he was caring less and less. But seeing her ass in those shorts and her wearing that bathing suit top had done a number on his self-control. The idea of her suntanning on his deck had him so fucking provoked and he’d said more than he’d meant to. Every second with her was beginning to feel like fighting a war. There was no telling what she got out of his mixed signals given her inability to understand even plain English. He’d need to jack off now. After waking up aroused out of his fucking mind and now seeing her ass and her cute tits in the same moment finished him off.
There was no reason not to jack off, he wasn’t into masochism, and walking around with a hard-on was just that.
At one o’clock, Sahvrin exhausted himself with workouts. He even let His Petite watch him. Which meant he’d pretended he didn’t know she did. He’d given her a good show, even doing it in only his briefs, not caring that his cock was hard the entire time, knowing her eyes were all over it.
He knew it was wrong to hope it caused a little of what she triggered in him, but Saint Sahvrin was slacking, leaving Bishop to handle things, who interpreted everything she did as an attack on his sex-less ethics code. This called for retaliation to him. Didn’t matter that fighting fire with fire would incinerate everything. The Bishop lived to burn things down and was more than happy to burn with it.
He showered outside then checked the cure on the tub before making his way back to the house. At the front door, he paused and angled his head at what he was seeing inside. He opened the door and His Petite shot up from the bathroom floor.
“What are you doing?”
“I uh…spilt…something and was just…wiping it.”
He made his way over, eying the rubber gloves on her hands then inspected the bathroom. Seeing his bottle of home-made cleaner on the sink, he leveled a look on her. “You’re cleaning?”
“No, just a little, I spilled—”
“Spilled what, cleaner?”
“Well, I was just cleaning the toilet and a little spilled so yes, I was cleaning it up.”
“We had a deal. You agreed.”
“It was barely anything, my God, you’re acting like I’m a criminal! I cleaned a little, so what. I’m not an invalid but if I go another day unable to do something, I’m going to wither away or go crazy!”
Anger bristled along his nerves as the Bishop once again saw this as a transgression that needed answering even as he struggled to take her out of that category. “It’s two-o’clock. You have a date with your tan,” he muttered.
She stared at him, fully seeing and feeling his anger and still it wasn’t enough for him. She lowered her gaze with a quiet, “I’m sorry. You’re right. It was wrong, I shouldn’t have, even if I think it’s stupid.”
He held his jaw shut, not giving in to her need for his reassurance. She finally turned and walked off, and the sight of her ass brought his anger straight to his cock.
He stood there, boiling for many seconds then decided she should wear sunblock. He made his way to the back dock right as she lay on the blanket he’d put out for her.
“You need to wear this,” he said, ignoring her startled reaction as she clutched a towel to her chest. “Lay down, I’ll put it on your back.”
She hesitated then did as he said while he poured some in his hands and rubbed them together. He paused. “This bathing suit isn’t for tanning, it’s got a million strings in every direction.”
“Well…it’s all I have,” she said, sounding confused.
“Why not remove the top since you’re laying on your front. Nobody is here looking.”
“Well, I…ugh,” she finally mumbled, angling her head toward him. “Can you turn?”
He did, then said, “Turned,” and waited while his cock hardened.
“Okay, I’m done.”
At seeing the fading bruises on her exposed back, hunger filled him. He added more sunblock to his hands and rubbed them together, moving his palms gently over her warm skin. “Do the bruises hurt still?” he asked, wanting to French kiss each one.
“Not…really.”
“Am I hurting you?” he asked, making his touch even softer.
“No,” she murmured. “Feels… so good.”
Fuck, she was starved for touch. He focused on feeling her, not wanting to forget what that was like, sure he’d never get the chance again. Her skin was silky and soft as he glided his palms over every inch of her back, painfully aware he was doing what he swore not to. Touch heaven.
“God this feels amazing,” she said, making his cock throb.
“Your body needs this.”
She answered with an innocent, delicate mmm. “As long as I’m not working?”
“Yes,” he said, moving his hands up her sides allowing his fingers to dip down too low. He stroked along her arms too then back, digging his thumbs gently into her shoulder muscles, ready to devour her.
“Oh my God,” she murmured, lost to it.
He went all the way down to her waist now, focusing his thumbs at the very bottom of her back, getting more of those pleasure sounds. His eyes lowered over her ass, and all Bishop saw was sin that needed punishing.
“Why you’re tanning in these shorts? Do you want a boy’s tan.”
“What? No, I don’t,” she murmured, sounding lost to the feeling as he kept his pace sensual.
“Then take them off,” he said, his cock aching to see her ass.
“I…I don’t like showing my butt.”
Fuck, did she think it wasn’t gorgeous? “That’s fine, I won’t look,” he straight up lied, prepared to coerce more.
“Can you turn?”
Fire raced through his veins as he did. “Turned.” He waited as heat pounded his cock. He really needed to stop before he couldn’t.
“Okay.”
The delicate way she said it made him brace for war. He stared at her ass, struck completely dumb. Fucking Dieu, how did she not know she had the finest ass on the fucking earth? He returned to rubbing her back before she got worried, getting her to that point he had her before. It didn’t take long. And the sweet sounds of pleasure were getting less innocent as he memorized every rib, contour and vertebrae.
Out of nowhere, Saint Sahvrin made a return and said, “Done,” then moved to stand. “I’ll let you know when fifteen minutes is up, then you can turn over.”
“Thank you,” she said weakly, the lust in those sweet words licking his cock.
Fuck, he was going to explode. “Second thought, I’m going to go check traps. I’ll be back in about an hour. Fifteen minutes on the front,” he reminded as he went. “Don’t go over that.”
“Okay,” she muttered. “Have fun,” she added in a sweet voice.
Yeah, fun. Going have tons of fucking fun burning in the memories of that heaven.
****
While out, Sahvrin ran into more signs of trafficking and followed the possible trail as far as he could, not finding anything more. Stopping at one of the Swamp Shops, he pulled his phone out and located Spook.
“Eveque, it’s been a lil bit,” Spook answered.
“Yes, too long,” Sahvrin said. “I’m gonna send you coordinates where I’m finding signs of demon networking. Need you to come see what you can see.”
“Send it. How’s everything going with that?” Spook asked.
“Good. I’ll have more details in a couple days.”
“Usual meeting’s still on?”
“If you’re meaning my mother’s party, yes. If we need to do anything before that, I’ll let everybody know.
“Sounds good. Send the coordinates and I’ll get on it right away.”
“Thanks. How’s your father and mother?”
“They’re good. Still embedded in the swamps like a couple of old warts on a toad.”
Sahvrin grinned “Good to hear it. You should bring them.”
“I will if I can talk them into it.”
The odds were low going by Spooks tone. “Text me anything you find. If you need to reach me quick, I’m at the shack.”
“Got it. Later.”
Sahvrin hung up and tied his boat to the dock, hopping onto the pier. “Com-on-sah-vah,” he said to Ms. Bernadette as he entered the small house on piers.
“Lil-Eveque,” she called with a toothless grin. “Meh, I don’t see you hardly?”
“I’ve been around,” he said, looking to the right.
“What you need, sha?”
“Not sure, really,” he muttered, walking the first aisle.
“Meh you shoppin?” she asked with a laugh because he did that never.
“I guess I am,” he said, spotting a sun hat and picking one up. He grabbed everything he thought she would like, finally realizing he might be apologizing without words. Was mostly all pleasure foods of the healthy kind since she’d not had anything like it yet. He remembered her boredom comment and added various forms of entertainment to keep her occupied. He put a pair of flip-flops in the bag and said, “Say-to, fini.”
“Meh you done got the whole store,” the old woman laughed, writing all the items down. “You sure you don’t want dis?”
She put an alligator necklace on the pile, and he nodded it in with the rest.
Fuck, he’d been gone almost three hours, he realized as he left. A cool front had snuck up on him and the next couple of days would offer cooler weather, thank Dieu. He’d cook her a gumbo, she should like that.