CHAPTER 2
“He wants to talk to you about the Bat-tie,” the Belle Eveque said.
Felix swallowed another wave of nausea. “What about it?”
“Waiting for it,” she said, looking at her phone.
“Something bossy, no doubt.”
“Oh boy,” she muttered.
“What?”
“He wants to tell you in person. Asked if he can come speak to you.”
Felix fought not to snatch the phone from her to see what exactly he’d said.
“Would you like to just…call him and ask?”
She stared at the kind woman, hating how hard this all was for her. “Yes! Yes I would like to call, that’s what phones are for.”
“I’ll hit his number and give you privacy.”
“Wait!” she shot out. “Give me a…a minute.”
Belle Eveque gave her a look of sympathy. “I’ve had similar moments with Bishop of this nature. All mortifying moments. I had zero experience with men before him. I still have zero experience other than…what he’s…we’ve…”
“Mercy,” Felix breathed, wanting to know every detail of her experiences but not daring to ask. “I feel the same. I have no experience. None. Other than humiliation. And he knows I have zero experience and humiliation. Even more, thanks to him.”
“Well…you’re…hitting back pretty good.”
Felix’s justified anger ran straight into her growing dread. She had hit back. Probably why she didn’t want to call him. But after hearing Katrina brag about the kiss her and Nitro shared at the last Christmas celebration, she’d lost the rest of her mind and stormed to the Basilique to do the unthinkable.
Where was all this courageous insanity coming from?
Him, that’s where!
“Ready?” Beth asked, poised to hit send on the phone.
Felix nodded then took the phone. “Thank you,” she said as Beth left with a quick wave.
“Where is she?” Nitro demanded upon answering, the sound of his voice a punch in the heart.
“She’s right here,” Felix said, fighting to hold her voice firm. “We can talk on the phone.”
“I have to do this in person.”
His hard words stirred her anger. “No, you don’t.”
She waited in the sudden silence. “I want to see you.”
She couldn’t bring herself to speak the lie that she didn’t want to see him.
“I called your Pah-Pah.”
Her mouth dropped open with the instant flood of panic. “For what?”
“Yeah, it’s sure nice to know I’m not the onlyone who left off major details concerning past love interests.”
Felix’s heart went wild, wondering what her Pah-Pah had told him. “Why would you even call him?”
“Because Eveque told me to.”
Oh God. “Why!?”
“We’re required to run checks on those who apply for The Ball.”
“I just applied!”
“Yeah, we’re not quite as fast as you.”
Fear and anger had her trembling now. She’d really pushed him, she could hear the bitterness and resentment in his voice. To think, before all this catastrophe, she’d been fantasizing about everything the women had spoken about in their meeting before they’d joined the men. Belle Eveque was asked questions about a book she had, and Felix had sat riveted in silent awe at hearing the things she talked about pertaining to sex. One particular detail that put her in the most lusty flames was regarding your husband punishing you during pleasure. With spankings! And a sexual aggression that would leave you sore all over the following day and yet how nothing felt more amazing when done with the man you loved because he only hurt just enough to make it feel impossibly good.
“Let me see you.”
Her tummy jolted at the idea of seeing him, but she needed to know how angry he was with her. Had she broken them completely? Did she really give a crap about who he kissed before her? She did but not enough to throw everything away. She’d just wanted to show him how it felt. “Fine. I’m on the porch.”
“Where?” he asked.
“The back,” she barely said, hearing Bishop call him.
“She wants to see me,” he said, then hung up.
Felix realized she had Belle Eveque’s phone and waved at her through the window. “He’s coming,” she hissed when she hurried out. “To talk.”
“Oh God, you’re shaking,” she saw, taking the phone. “You’ll be fine! Don’t forget I know he likes you! A lot! I would say love, only I don’t want to freak you out, but I think he does. Find me when you’re done, I want to know everything!”
“I will.”
She hurried in and Felix turned to watch the path leading to the porch, holding her arms as her mind replayed what he’d done with her right there on it earlier. God, she wasn’t strong enough for him. He was a bomb she had no shelter from.
She spotted him, torpedoing toward the house. Oh shit, Lord, help me. She focused on her anger as his face came into view, so impossibly handsome. And pissed. The loud clonk of his boots on the porch felt like the countdown on a bomb. Shit, shit, he wasn’t stopping. “What—” Her question got snatched from her mouth as he lifted her off her feet and held her tight to his body in a bear hug.
He stood there, not saying a word as his chest heaved against her and his strong hand cradled the back of her head. “Fuck, I missed you,” he gasped at her ear, confirming her worst fears till she ached. He did like her very much and he was sorry, she felt that to her bones.
But how to fix it now?
Her mind returned to the scene of her irrational crimes. All her efforts to be mature had been crushed by some inconsolable brat that wanted to destroy more than it had a right to. God, did her Pah-Pah tell him about the embarrassing proposal fiasco? Anything but that.
She scrambled to find a mature track to get back to, remembering Aunt Gracie’s explanation about everything that happened and how she’d been drunk out of her mind and initiated the kiss. And Belle Eveque went over how he’d only called her for help to protect her. Even Hurricane defended him!
He slowly lowered her to the porch, leaving her to fight with gravity.
“I’m accepting the Bat-tie challenge.”
His tone and response hit her like a real punch. To have him fighting against her in any capacity, the man who had become her shield and source of…everything, made her want to cry. And she’d challenged him! What did she expect of him? How did she so quickly become this crazy person?
“Good,” she barely said, her voice shaking.
“Yeah?” he said, studying her. “You like fighting me?”
She remembered the pleasure talk with the women in that instant and swallowed. She did like play fighting with him, but not for real. Not like this. And yet she stood there, mute and stupid, unable to pry the words that would make a difference from her tongue.
“In war-time, a Hatch Leader is permitted to use whatever he wants to establish their Hatch is safe and secure. I want to use your place. But you can’t be there when I do.”
Her head shook before she could even think. “I can’t…leave my birds.”
“You don’t have a choice. Will you cooperate?”
Her stomach roiled with a familiar protectiveness, mixing with the pain and regret of her foolishness. “My birds need me.”
“You’ll be allowed to feed them. Under strict supervision seeing as I can’t trust you to be honest.”
The insult hit her so hard it knocked the sense right out of her and just like that, she fell back into her bratty skin. “Says Mr. Lying Lips! I will not cooperate with this. In fact, I will appeal this in the swamp courts!”
She was suddenly spun around and pushed into the wall with her hands pinned behind her back. “In that case,” he said in her ear, pushing his knee between her legs and flooding her with all the wrong feelings and thoughts. “You’re under arrest for violating war-time statutes. You will be detained, by me, for as long as I deem necessary.” She gasped at feeling him wrap her wrists in something coarse.
“What are you doing?” she shot out as he grabbed her arm and pulled her along the porch.
“Thought I just explained that,” he said, hauling her down the steps.
“Where are you taking me? I have to see about my birds!”
“To a Rest Stop where you can chill the fuck out. Your birds will live till the morning. Then you’re going to train somebody to do the job in your stead.” She fought to keep up with his pissed stride as he aimed them for the boat dock as her panicked mind floundered about.
“Lukas! They could…die!”
“Then I suggest you train somebody and quit being a fucking brat about all of it.”
She struggled to get free, ready to run for it, only to have him manhandle her into the boat. “Fight me and I’ll add discipline to your time out,” he warned right in her face once she sat.
“I’m going to pay you back for this,” she grit, seeing red while her body still buzzed with its rebellious Nitro weakness.
“I’m sure you will.” He started the boat and took off. With only her legs to hold on with, they shot out to catch the sides of the boat and she ended up on her back like an embarrassing humpty dumpty.
Nitro suddenly stood over her and pulled her up by her shoulders and got back in his spot. He then hauled her onto his lap and took off again, adding fifty thousand degrees of humiliation to her fury while her body devoured the feel of him.
“I can’t believe you’re treating me like a child!”
“I can’t believe you’re acting like one. You clearly want to be forced into submission because you do everything that requires it. And I’m more than happy to force you into submission.”
To hear him use the same words Belle Eveque had stole her breath. “Of course you are,” she gasped, unable to think while burning. “You’re a… stupid… bossy tramp!”
“I’ll show you tramp,” he muttered. “And bossy. And you’ll do as your told and show me submission.”
Her body went nuts while her anger auto-piloted responses that dug her grave deeper. “You’ll surely have to take it because I won’t give you anything.”
“Fucking good. Just so happens that my biggest fantasy is making you take everything I want to give. Then watch you beg for more.”
Her mouth opened as his fantasy jumped right into her head and burned up all her anger.
“You think that’s shocking? You haven’t seen shocking yet, baby.”
“What…I don’t…” She struggled to make her voice angry, but it was difficult while hyperventilating.
“I won’t do anything you won’t beg for. But just know that I will play dirty when it comes to bringing you to that unthinkable ledge.”
“Why are you doing this?” she barely gasped, as her body betrayed the utter hell out of her.
“Because I want it. Almost as much as you do.”
She couldn’t speak. She didn’t even dare try. He was righter than rain and she’d never tell him that. Not in that moment.
They arrived at another dock she wasn’t familiar with. Where did he take her? “I haven’t been here in months, but this will serve just right for your Rest Stop.”
He helped her stand and lifted her onto the dock then hopped out, securing the boat. The idea to push him in the water hit her but she refrained at remembering his threaten of discipline. She was still breathless from all he’d threatened, her muscles wound tight with anticipation. As if it would not rest until it experienced every one of those things from him. What would he force? How would he force it? Was he serious? Was it all threat?
He led her to a small house that reminded her of Pah-Pah’s work shed. “Don’t move while I inspect it,” he said, leaving her on the small porch.
She didn’t plan on it. She wasn’t that stupid. A flicker of fire appeared in the dark room through the window on the door and she realized it was a lantern. Did the place not have electricity? God, it better have a bathroom.
Another lantern was lit, then another. At the fifth lantern, she was sure there was no electricity. But the outdated devices cast a pleasant glow in the room that seemed to have everything you could need in a single space. Apron sink, couple of cabinets. A black woodburning stove. Small table and two chairs next to that. Her tummy jerked at seeing a twin bed in the far right corner behind a half-opened curtain. She kicked her legs about when the mosquitoes found them for their supper. Her eyes remained fixed on her captor, taking him in. She wasn’t the only one with a perfect butt. He wore jeans that showcased everything, but of all the bulges on him, the one at the front of his denim was most alluring of all.
Her stomach dropped when he turned and headed her way.
He opened the door, and she walked in, standing and waiting for what came next. The rest of the room came into view and she spotted a door inside the little bedroom space, wondering if that was the bathroom. She prayed so.
He pulled one of the chairs from the table and put it in the middle of the floor. “Sit.”
She stared at the plain wooden piece of furniture, wondering what he was going to do. She sat, not about to incur discipline while alone with him out in the middle of nowhere. While she had zero fear for her life with him, she feared everything else he could do and had threatened.
He went to the door and locked it, looking around outside before closing the brown plaid curtains. He grabbed the other chair and set it before her then sat. His eyes locked on her face as his knees pressed into hers, but it was surely what burned in his gaze that stole her ability to breathe.
“I’m going to ask you questions and you’ll answer them honestly.”
The or else hung in the silence like a judgement.
“You’ll remain restrained the majority of the time. You will cooperate in everything I require to secure this Hatch. You will be respectful, and you will be grateful. From now on, address me as Monsieur. If you want favor, you address me as Bien Monsieur. If you want more than favor…you address me with Mon Bien Monsieur.”
The last name flooded her privacy with an ache. My Good Sir. She struggled to be angry with him, but her mind and body found no reason to be anything but a hungry, captive audience.
“Do you understand so far?”
His voice softened and the effect was like warm butter on her skin. She struggled to think. “Yes. Monsieur.”
“Now, tell me the rules,” he said, his gaze on her mouth.
She wet her lips and swallowed, considering her limited options as well as the weight of discipline he promised if she didn’t cooperate.
“Patience is not my strong suit,” he said, lowering his gaze to her chest, making her wonder what he was seeing. She had a bra she remembered but her breasts pushed against the fabric in the position she was in. Were her nipples visible?
“I address you as…Monsieur. And…Bien Monsieur if I want something. And Mon Bien Monsieur if…I want something…special.”
He gave a slow nod. “Close enough. What else?”
She swallowed, his perfect mouth stealing her ability to think. “Cooperate…in everything. Be respectful. And…grateful.”
His head angled in the other direction while his gaze remained glued to hers. “You have questions?”
She did. Which ones to ask first? “When is the Bat-tie?”
His slow grin was like a spreading fire in her body. Why did he have to be so handsome? “When do you want it?”
The test hidden in the question squeezed her bladder. She needed to pee, she remembered. But what was this test? “As soon as… is possible. For you,” she added, remembering to be…what was that? Helpful? Kind?
He was full on grinning then shook his lowered head, freeing her from his gaze. “You think you have a chance against me? With your birds?”
Back under his hot stare, she fought to remember the rules rather than her anger. “I do,” she decided to say, nicely. Respectfully. But she didn’t look at him. Seeing mock on his face in regards to her birds and what she could and couldn’t do with them wasn’t something she could handle nicely or respectfully.
“And do you understand that even if you did win the Bat-tie, I will still have jurisdiction over you if we’re in war?”
She snapped her eyes up, running right into that sexy smile. But the lurking smirk in it wasn’t so cute. She held her jaw together, realizing there wasn’t much wiggle room in his game and needed to start playing smarter if she wanted to gain any ground. “Then I see no point in a Bat-tie,” she muttered smoothly.
More smiles. “Too late. Once a Bat-tie is called and agreed upon, it’s done.”
“Even in war-time?”
“If I think it benefits the Hatch, yes.”
“And you think it does?”
“Most definitely.”
She squirmed under his hot conviction. “Can I ask how it benefits?”
“You can.”
Seeing he was going to make her ask the question added more irk to the mix of fire in her. “How will this Bat-tie…benefit the Hatch, Mon Bien Monsieur.”
His smile slowly faded, and he leaned in and kissed her softly, his fingers gentle on her face. “When you use that address,” he murmured on her mouth, “it earns you affection.”
She could only sputter like somebody drowning on air while her thoughts misfired. “Okay,” she heard her mouth utter as he moved back to his spot.
“The Bat-tie will serve two purposes. To show the Hoard what your birds can do. And to give you a chance to teach me a lesson.”
Confusion pulled at her brows.
“You have a lesson to teach me, don’t you?”
He must be right, she was sure he was but…the only lesson her brain remembered were those marriage ones he’d once offered to teach her. She really needed time to think away from this fire he put in her and constantly stoked. “I don’t…think I do. Or remember. And I doubt you are wanting to learn how to train birds.”
“Let me help. Why did you challenge me to a Bat-tie, Petite Rebelle?”
The new name was a stretch, she wasn’t a rebel. Unless provoked. He was definitely good at that. She remembered that his bossiness was part of his job description as a leader. Wasn’t like he was a mean bossy. It was part of what made him sexy she realized. She’d had a boss-less life. Her parents let her do whatever she wanted whenever she wanted. She’d been responsible with that gift, which was probably why they allowed it. At seeing his brows raise, she remembered the question. “To…protect my birds,” she said.
“What do you intend to do with these birds?”
She knew that answer. “Show you that they can protect me. That nobody can touch me if I don’t want them to.”
“So… you don’t want me to touch you?”
What? “No, I mean…to show you that they can prevent you if I wanted them to.”
“So you do want me to touch you?”
“I thought…we were talking about my birds not…”
He shook his head. “We’re talking about why you challenged me to a Bat-tie.”
She wasn’t following. “I think it’s to protect my birds, but you clearly think it’s more than that.”
“Very perceptive.”
He held his stare on her and she squirmed in her seat a little. “I need the bathroom.”
His gaze took a very slow stroll over her, stopping at her privates. He stared long enough to make her worry about what he was contemplating. “I’m not untying you,” he said, making her heart lurch.
“But I…” Her protest fell away at the hot look in his gaze. “I won’t run. Where would I go?” God, he couldn’t help her do that. “Please,” she said, then remembered her other tool. “Mon Bien Monsieur.”
She remembered with a gasp what else came with that when his mouth pressed against hers then pushed it open for a hot invasion of his tongue along hers. Her moaned whimper came unbidden, and his hands gripped her face as he decided she was his last meal and he’d better consume it quick. His hot groan spoke to every part of her and then just as quickly, he left her mouth tingling in parted astonishment in the aftermath.
She opened her eyes when his hand took soft hold of her upper arm and tugged. “Come.”
She stood as her body interpreted the command as sexual, recalling how he’d made her do that so perfectly. Her need to pee mixed with all the tingles that came with the memory as he led her to the door behind the curtain.
“I can’t…do that with you.”
The rope on her wrist loosened then slid off, bringing the sudden release of her breath.
She looked up at him, absently rubbing her wrists. “Thank you.”
“Mah douce petite Rebelle is learning.”
Her heart fluttered as she entered the bathroom, which was…wow, so tiny. But clean. Mah douce petite rebelle. Being his sweet anything made the little and rebel part very tolerable.
She sat on the toilet and her business came with a cringy-loud urgency. Mercy, let him not be near the door. She studied the toilet paper holder and realized with a light gasp what it was fashioned out of. Surely that wasn’t a real stick of dynamite.
She finished up and regarded the tiny sink with no sign of soap anywhere. The water came after a few startling sputters then ran smooth and clear. No mirror, she realized. Where was he now? What was he doing and planning next? She was very sure he had something planned because her body knew all about it. And it was eager to reach that point with him if she was being honest. Really, she was a very honest person. To an often-offensive fault. She’d never had a need to flatter with her tongue, but it only took a couple of humiliating occasions to learn that it was sometimes necessary. She would never enter The Patty Wagon on land again after informing a woman in the bathroom her butt was hanging out of her clothes. Any person would want to know such a thing, she’d been surely wrong to assume. Of course Mah-Mah and Pah-Pah found it oh so funny, ha ha ha, hee hee hee, while her tender reputation went up in flames on a stake of na?ve shame. She still didn’t know how to flatter so she chose what many would consider rude silence.
She exited the bathroom slowly, peeking around.
Her organs convulsed at finding him without a shirt at the sink, edible tattoo on full display as he…what was he doing. What was she smelling?
She carefully crept out.
“Sit,” he said, without turning, making her steps freeze then resume toward the chair. Being angry was now harder than ever. Her mind had ran the facts ad nauseum. Lukas was a good man. A good leader. Everything he’d done was out of his need to be that. Or his want. She’d been unsure of that but now she wasn’t. Who would go to such lengths for somebody they didn’t like? He could’ve shipped her to another Hatch but instead he brought her here. There was a lot more he wanted with her that had nothing to do with Hatch safety, this was now clear. And knowing that made it very difficult to hold on to her woe is me betrayal dramatics. Even the niggling fear of him doing sexual tings without the intention of commitment was quickly losing ground. That would go against his ethics as a man and leader of The Twelve.
Then there was the Bat-tie. Now that she knew the stupid thing was set in stone, it would seem there was no undoing that mess. She remembered his question about why she put forth the challenge. More than for her birds, that’s what he thought. She’d been pissed, she could admit that. He’d lied about something very similar that she’d also lied about. She could call them even on that if she wanted. And she did want, but…
But what?
The realization crept up on her. DearLord. She liked being in this situation with him. She liked even more that he was her captor. A man that wanted her. To marry? If there was anything sexual, it had to be, and there already was that. He’d said it was to teach her for her husband. She was many immature things but dense wasn’t one. She knew now he’d never train her sexually for another man.
She felt a little deceptive being his secretly happy prisoner. Was he going to tie her back up? She wantedhim to. He was right, he’d said it. She wanted him to make her. The moment he’d said it, her brain made a compass of her privates to take her there, to that place he promised. Her breaths turned shallow as she remembered the other thing. That he wanted it. He’d said that too. He wanted to make her do things. Her brain scrambled for the exact words he’d used. You’ll do as your told and show submission. Just so happens my biggest fantasy is making you take everything I want to give. It was his biggest fantasy. Making her. Bringing her to that ledge. That unthinkable ledge. Until she begged for it.
God, yes.
She remembered her birds and found herself struggling to find the bond that had sustained her for years. She immediately settled down at realizing it was still right where it always was. They were her babies, they would always be. He would never take that from her, she knew that.
He returned and sat in the seat before her. All but naked according to her appetite. He was a huge wall between her and her birds she realized. Literal and mental and emotional. But…was he between them? Or was he just standing there with his massive presence, projecting everywhere in her life?
Definitely that.
“What is happening in ta jolie tet?”
A lot was happening, but not just in her head. Things she couldn’t tell. She remembered his fantasy of making her. He wanted to do that. She remembered too it was her turn to pay him back in pleasure. How could she give him his biggest fantasy? She’d have to resist something. But what?
She remembered he’d asked her a question.
“Do I…have to tell?”
He scooted his butt lower in his chair, putting his knees between hers. He slowly opened his legs and hers at the same time. “What do you think?”
Calm your breathing! She eyed him, edging her way to that cliff. “What if…I say no?”
His head slowly tilted to the other side, maybe suspecting her dirty schemes. “Then I’d say you want to be disciplined.”
She swallowed, lowering her gaze. “I don’t…want to be bad,” she barely whispered.
“Tell me what you were thinking.”
That was a command. She was at a crossroad now. She could take the discipline route, or she could tell him what she’d been thinking. Which would he like more? “I was…having a conversation,” she said, trying not to gasp.
“Yeah?” he muttered, his tone knowing. “About?”
“You.” She couldn’t bring herself to look at him.
“What about me?”
The lure in his tone tugged her a step further. “What…you said. On the way here.”
She held her breath as he leaned forward, putting his face closer. “Which part?” he asked quietly. But he knew. She heard it in his sexy voice. That should make it easier but instead she was up in embarrassing flames. “Your…biggest fantasy.” She couldn’t keep her gasp in and closed her eyes, feeling like she’d just lit a fuse and the explosion was coming.
He eased back in his chair. “Take off your clothes.”