Bayou Bishops Box Set: Books 1-12

CHAPTER 16

After texting everything to Lazure and asking him to pass it to Mah-Mah, Sahvrin psycho walked his way to the main house, making it there in under a minute. He entered the kitchen and the sight of Beth at the sink stopped him in his tracks. He drank in her beauty, the lavender dress no doubt something special she’d worn for him. He heard her distraught mumbling before she lifted a shoulder and wiped her eyes.

“Ma Petite,” he called softly.

She spun and glass shattered with her gasped, “Oh shit,” as she hurried to the floor.

Right as he made it to her, she jerked her hand back, blood gushing.

“Ma Petite,” he whispered, pulling her up and holding her hand over the sink.

“Crap, crap, crap,” she said, looking away as he turned on the water. “Oh God, don’t wet it!”

She tried to pull her hand out of his and he held it tight. “I have to see how bad it is, I’m just passing it under the stream for one second.”

She hissed and strained as he did.

“It’s not bad,” he said, his breath releasing. “Hold it up and over the sink.” He reached for the paper towels and ripped a square off, wrapping her pointer finger tight then holding it in his hand. The second her teary gaze met his, he devoured her mouth in a hungry kiss, her surprised breath making him groan at how fucking good she felt.

“I’m sorry, Ma Petite,” he said at her mouth, still holding her injured finger tightly between his, while pulling her body against him. “I see the fairy godmother visited you and turned you into a princess,” he said, looking down into her face.

The worry and fear in her eyes melted a little and he kissed her again, back to ravenous. This angel should never fucking worry about his feelings for her. “I missed you, Ma Petite.”

“I missed you more,” she said, her fingers running up in his hair. She pulled back and looked at him. “What’s going on? Can you tell me?”

The desperate plea in her gaze brought every dirty confession to the tip of his tongue. “Let’s take a walk.”

Sahvrin would use the band-aid ripping method with this since he didn’t have a lot of time. Once on the gravel path, he began with, “I don’t know what Mah-Mah may have said but I’m going to tell you everything. He stopped and faced her. “Katrina is my ex. Yes, the one I told you about, my first. She left six months after we were married for her career. Never called or came back. She came here tonight and knowing the circles she comes from, I didn’t trust that it didn’t have to do with you. They sent her to fish for information and then she saw you. I couldn’t let her leave with that information. So, Jek has her at the guest house making sure she doesn’t.”

“Oh God…”

“There’s more.” He slid his hands on her arms. “She told me we have a daughter.” She froze, and he finished ripping the band-aid off, rushing through the sick details. Once he was done, he studied the emotions filling her face. “Say something,” he said, ready to deal with it and be done.

She stared, blinking as she lowered her head. “I’m… so sorry,” she said. “That must…all be very hard to process. And accept.”

He closed his eyes at hearing it was also the case for her too. Being suddenly wedged between his past and his future with her had his anger coming to a quick boil. “I don’t know what’s coming in the next couple of days, Beth. I have a daughter I’ve never met coming into my life and now I’ll have to protect her and her mother.”

“Well…what…do you need me to go somewhere? I don’t want to be a threat to your family.”

He stared at her, dumbfounded that she thought that, pissed even. He pulled her face in and kissed her, plowing his tongue in her mouth while his fingers slid up in her hair. “You’re not going anywhere. Do you hear? Don’t fucking say that.”

“I…okay,” she gasped. “I don’t really understand what…”

He put his forehead against hers, wishing he knew how to say everything without fucking up what they had in progress. “It’s been seven days since I found you.” He pulled up, stroking her face. “I rushed a lot of things in my life and was made to be very sorry for it. I won’t rush us for anything or anybody, past or present, do you understand? There are some things I can’t tell you yet and won’t. Not until I know it’s the right time. I’m asking you to trust me on that.”

She kept her face lowered and brushed tears from her cheeks with a nod and soft, “Okay.” She turned her gaze up to his, hope in those pure eyes. “Whatever you think we need to do…I’ll do it.”

“I want to date you,” he said, tasting her lips.

“No sex?” she wondered, her delicate hunger tearing through him.

“There is more to sex than just sex, as you say?” He petted her face. “We will not rush.”

Her brows pulled together as she cast her eyes down. “I didn’t…mean to sound like I only want sex, I just…I need to know what’s coming, what to expect so I can…prepare.”

“Ma Petite,” he said, petting her sweet face. “You will not suffer in this, I promise you. I am yours completely and every need you have, I will find a way to answer it while we take it slow.”

“I may have… done something in anticipation of tonight but…. it can wait.”

His pulse hammered at what she might mean. “What did Ma Petite do? Tell me.” He tilted her face up to his, wondering over her furrowed brows.

“I…I ordered that insidious book you wanted,” she whispered, like it was hard to get out. “And another one that looked…interesting.”

Fuck. He kissed her, moaning as he played with her tongue, quickly losing himself in the delicate moans she gave. “How did Ma Petite even order this?” he wondered, pulling up.

She struggled to think around her desire before saying, “Well, your Mah-Mah—”

“Ahhhh the swamp Cupid.”

She gave a laugh, breaking the shame that had overtaken her. “She… gave me your PO Box and I used the computer in the library. I might have been shocked to discover there was one. But don’t worry, I covered my tracks. Nobody will know.”

He didn’t like hiding anything from her for the reason she’d just shown. She had to guess what and why he hid things and was prone to guess the worst. “I don’t care who knows that, Ma Petite. And those things I can’t tell you yet have no bearing whatsoever on how I feel about you. Nothing on this earth will change that.” He lowered and nipped softly at her lips, his hands roaming over her dress, feeling her shape. “What is this other book you ordered?”

“Just…stuff about… sexual relationships.”

“How vague,” he said, stepping back and taking her hand, ready to get to the very bottom of that. He’d text his brothers when he got upstairs to see how far they’d gotten with the Katrina code. Then he’d learn everything His Petite had been up to. It was only 7:30. They’d hit their night shift at the Royal Fucking Roulette around midnight.

That gave him about four hours to quiet her fears and blow her mind with pleasure.

****

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you lived way up here,” she cried as he headed up the third flight of stairs.

“The oldest got the best,” he said, finishing the last steps to his attic room.

“This house is so huge.”

Her father was rich, so he guessed this was nothing compared. “It’s the biggest I have personally ever been in,” he confessed, trying to remember the name of the dude he was supposed to ask about.

“How amazing to grow up in such a fairytale place.”

He stopped at the landing, fighting another urge to touch her now that they were at the bedroom. “The only thing fairytale about this place is you.”

The sweet melt of her face burned him. “Is it your plan to torture me slowly with your bayou charm until I’m on my knees begging?”

Mon Dieu, the visions she’d just created.

He opened the door and she leaned around him. “Oh my gosh, this whole thing was yours?”

“The whole thing.” He shut and locked the door, the heat wave hitting him in the face. “Mon Dieu, I forgot how hot it gets up here.” He made his way along the fifty-foot wall of windows, opening them, then turned on the four ceiling fans.

“Your bed?” She gasped a laugh and he turned to see his angel climbing up the steps leading to his cypress pirate ship.

“A gift from my uncle.” He watched her ass under the dress as she went, hunger to see it again stabbing him. She lay in his childhood bed and rolled around in it before spying it. “A slide?” She promptly hurried to it and slid down with a laugh that stoked new hungers.

“My uncle is an amazing craftsman. And my father. They both built this home.”

“And now you are?” she wondered.

He made his way to the far side of the room. “Come see this,” he called at the largest window.

She raced over and looked out where he pointed. “Is that…a zip line?”

“It is.”

She angled her head, peering harder. “To a treehouse!? I saw that treehouse today!”

She straightened and the joyous look on her face slowly turned into something else that brought his reckless desire. He allowed himself to imagine what it would be like if she became his second in command in The Twelve. She would have to submit to the Bishop side of him and he really needed to test how she”d take that.

He watched her stroll the room as he sat in the chair next to his small desk, balls tingling. “Mr. Bishop might have very little practice in going slow,” he warned, feeling like that was a safe starting point.

His lavender angel touched one childhood moment after another, casting him a shy look. “What do you mean?”

He eyed her, his cock raging at what he meant. “He’s not been allowed to touch and taste before.”

She paused at his stick art collection and picked up a figure. “He must be very hungry,” she said softly, peeking at him.

Mon Dieu, he was speechless with said hunger. “More than I ever imagined.”

The heat in her gaze from across the room licked his cock. “I’m not afraid of Bishop,” she said, moving again along his collection.

Her bold words called him right out of the shadows to step into her light. Sahvrin said he”d not been allowed to taste and touch, but now he realized he’d been tasting from the very start. And he still fully intended to have every bit of her.

This didn’t alarm him, if anything, it excited him. Because there wasn”t a part of him that wouldn”t die or kill to protect her.

“Tell me what you have in mind with these books, Ma Petite.”

She made her way closer to his side of the room, stopping at the back wall of the bed, only five feet away now. “I was thinking we can… take turns reading the position one. Maybe… scale them from 1 to 10. 1 could be… God no, and 10 could be…”

“God, yes?”

She gave a timid nod, making his cock pulsate.

“How was your day, angel?” he asked, shifting directions before he went past a point he couldn’t return from.

She made her way to the ladder on the bed and climbed halfway up and sat before aiming a secret smile at him. “I peeled like fifty potatoes. Washed a thousand dishes.”

He grinned at how she said it. “Ma Petite, you love washing dishes?”

“Not really, no,” she hurried, narrowing her brows while still smiling, like maybe she worried he’d think it was a dumb thing to like. “I loved helping though,” she said, proud of that. “And so many people were there, singing and laughing. It went by so fast!”

He clasped his hands behind his head, watching her eyes move over him before lowering to her lap. “Most women don’t really like life in the swamp.”

She angled her head with curious eyes at him, her guard up. “Those women here seemed to. I do.”

“That’s because they’re raised in it. Immune.”

Half a smile tugged at her pretty mouth. “You act like the swamp is a disease.”

“It is to many. Most who aren’t from it don’t survive long in it.”

She leaned her forearms on her lap and clasped her hands, studying them. “Well, I guess time will tell.”

That it would.

“I don’t care what anybody says, I like it.”

His cock ached with her annoyed swat at his red swamp flag. She didn’t say it, but he knew it irked her when he threw them right at her. But she needed to know. Maybe she thought he wasn’t rooting for her, but she’d be dead wrong on that. He planned to equip her as long as she wanted it, and she’d need all that stubbornness and determination. Swamp people didn’t quit till they died. And they didn’t go easy into that night.

“What about you?” she asked. “You had fun today?”

He eyed her with a grin. “We had a blast. Walked about five miles in a thousand degrees looking for buried trails while fighting mah-de-gwan that are as mean and hungry as Gras Jean.”

She had on a big smile. “Is that a swamp creature, mahdigwan?”

“Mosquitos.”

She busted out laughing and the sound along with her sudden gaze on his cock made it jerk. She looked down. “You were teasing,” she said with a soft joy.

“I was,” he said back, enjoying the vision before him. His mother was surely trying to kill him. “Did Mah-Mah tell you about the party coming?”

Her face bloomed with excitement, officially ending his desire to skip it. “She did! I get to help set up and I can’t wait.” She gave a secret smile. “I don’t think I’m supposed to know that your birthday is part of it.”

Another quick rake of her eyes along his body had him boiling. “She is a fierce party animal,” he half teased. “I celebrate my birthdays if I want to continue enjoying the breath she gave me.”

Her happy laugh made his blood sing. He suddenly wanted to run his fingers through her hair.

“What?” she wondered, touching her hair, worried. “It’s probably all messed up now.”

“No,” he chuckled, needing to crush those cute inhibitions. “I was admiring Mah-Mah’s craft and the materials she worked with.”

A hard blush came with a glowing smile. “I don’t know about the materials,” she sputtered, licking her lips nervously. “But she’s amazing. She made me feel like a swamp princess.”

A swamp princess. Mon Dieu. “That, you surely are. Gras Jean will be jealous of me now.” Her laughter rang out and he devoured her joy, while the starved Bishop was pushing to get back to the topic of sex. “Tell me more of these books you got, Ma Petite. Particularly the one about sexual stuff.”

The topic was a real mood changer and fuck, he loved the one it put her in. “Uhhhh, well,” she began, doing what he wanted to, wrapping her hair around her hand. Her desire was fascinating. So many layers. He wanted to bring each one, memorize it. “It’s just…about…relationships and sex and…styles.”

What an interesting word in regard to that. “Styles.”

The amount of squirming she did, meant it embarrassed her. “Well, like…temperaments,” she said. “Personalities and…such.”

“You’re doing so good keeping it just out of my understanding,” he teased.

She focused on her hands, wetting her lips. “Well, what they actually call it is also very obtuse if you ask me.”

“Tell me. Let me try,” he said, ready to beg her.

“BDSM,” she gushed with a wave of her nervous hand, doing a terrible job at hiding how nervous this made her. “You probably heard of it?”

If he knew what the acronym stood for, he could possibly answer that. “The acronym doesn’t ring a bell. But maybe its meaning will.”

“It’s…mostly about…dominance and submission. And marriage,” she quickly added, breathless.

Mon fucking Dieu, did he hear her right? Dominance and submission and marriage? All three raced through his body with a defining force. B D S M. Dominance and submission. And marriage. “The M stands for marriage, yes? The D for dominance, the S for submission? That leaves the B.”

She captured her hair in her hand again. “Actually, the M stands for something else, and the B stands for bondage, but it’s not set in stone, it’s a style, you can decide what you want and don’t want.”

Bondage. Images of His Petite tied up while he pleasured her fucking burned him. “What does the M stand for? Ma Petite, perhaps?”

“Masochism,” she barely said. “But I’m not into all of that,” she hurried, like either she didn’t want him thinking she was or was worried he wanted her to be.

“And we get to pick what we like?”

She nodded, bravely meeting his gaze.

“I think I choose BDSM to mean Binding and Dominating and Subduing Ma-Petite?”

She held her gaze in her lap, her lips parted, breathless. “You can choose that,” she said, slamming him with desire.

“But what does Ma Petite choose?” he had to know. “You need to tell me this.”

She straightened and stroked a hand across her forehead before returning it to her lap. “I don’t like saying it,” she said.

“But you need to,” he wasn’t sorry to say.

“Now?”

“I definitely need to know it and now is perfect.” He also needed to hear her say it.

She covered her face with her hands then looked only toward him. “What if I write it?”

Mmmmm. “I can work with that.”

“Good,” she cried, like even that was going to be hard. “I’ll need your input for that,” she said, like she couldn’t find her pleasure outside of that. Angelic.

“You write it, I’ll put my notes.”

He decided he wanted that immediately and turned to his desk, getting everything she needed. He brought the small notebook and pen to her.

“Now?”

“I’m going take a shower. Take as long as you need.” He eyed her as she took it from him. “But not too long.”

She glanced up and he lowered, tasting those perfect lips while stroking the soft skin of her face. Her erratic breaths said her pussy was likely dripping now. Fuck, he wanted to feel it.

His phone buzzed and he straightened, heading to his drawer as he pulled it out and swiped the screen. Mah-Mah. I have some more clothes for Beth. Do you want me to bring them up?

He texted her back. I’m coming down to shower. I’ll get them.

He looked for more texts, finding none. He’d call Jek when he showered, find out what they learned so far.

He grabbed clean underwear, jeans and a t-shirt. He glanced back at her, finding her writing. Good.

“I’ll be back in thirty minutes. You want anything from downstairs? Mah-Mah has more clothes for you. I’ll bring them up when I’m done.”

She nodded before looking hopeful. “Did you eat? I saved a plate of food for you. It’s in the oven.”

Mon Dieu, his angel had such decadent power. “I’ll be sure and eat it.” He wanted to eat her pussy and hoped she’d put that down in her list of wants and needs.

“I put a lot,” she said with one of her secret smiles. “Mah-Mah said you eat as much as a horse.” And she thought that was cute.

“This is true,” he admitted, tucking his clothes under his arm and heading for the door. He opened it and paused, then stepped out, ready to jack off. How would he stay in the same room with her and not fuck her unconscious?

In the bathroom downstairs, he realized that she’d agreed to stay and hold off on the sex. But where would she stay? She couldn’t stay at his parents with his fornicating brothers living there too. And having her alone with him at his house was sure suicide.

He’d have to stay at his parents with her. His Mah-Mah would be thrilled, she loved having the whole family in one place.

He put his phone on the counter, realizing he needed to get His Petite her own so he could communicate with her at all times.