Bayou Bishops Box Set: Books 1-12

CHAPTER 1

Cat took in a slow breath, devouring the smell of bacon while her legs took a nice long stretch along…

She froze. Popped her eyes open.

Dark walls… huge windows… beautiful gloomy swamp beyond. Mmmm. 8-Bit’s room. She again slid her legs along the mocha velvet covers, turning her face into the pillow to smell him. What in God’s name was he made of that smelled so good? Heat flooded in with the memories. The post orgasm ones brought her pulse into the action. Lord, she’d tried to act unaffected. What a joke. The shame piled up at recalling his sudden need to cook because she was probably hungry. At midnight. And the graveyard shift they were supposed to pull, what happened to that? She was glad in a way. He mighta learned her how his orgasm worked next. And she did want to learn that but wouldn’t have been able to keep her professional composure for that. Already she’d shown way too much…satisfaction and…God what were the words for all that? Immaturity. And greenery. Lord. Have. Mercy, what a disaster. He was probably shocked over her outrageous reaction.

And what was up with that AL personality he’d mentioned. Something was weird about that. He needed to makeadjustments before they officially met. Geeze. What kind of asshole was he? Was he vulgar? Had Ethan given him that kind of trait since he was once into…

No. He’d left all that.

She sat up in bed, wondering what time it was. She recalled all them gadgets he had. She’d met the vacuum cleaner during the night on her way to the bathroom and nearly killed herself trying to jump over the creepy thing. Then she’d had a heart attack in the mirror when washing her hands, the thing talked to her. While she was looking at it! “Guest mode activated. Hello Cat. The time is two-thirty a.m.” Then it kindly suggested she stay hydrated, gave her the weather for the next day and then reminded her about the lavender bath before listing off other essential oils and their benefits should she prefer or need that. Just freakin’ wow! Made her want to look out the window to make sure she was still in the swamp on planet earth.

She scooted out of the bed, waiting for a random voice to pop up and scare the crap out of her. She crept to the door and opened it, listening. Big G was nice, she remembered. Wonder if she could ask him things?

Not hearing a sound, she whispered, “Big G. Where’s Ethan?”

“Morning Cat,” Big G said—in a whisper! “Ethan is performing his morning routine. Would you like me to tell him you’re awake?”

“No!” she hurried in another whisper, wondering what his morning routine was. Should she ask or was that personal. “Are you allowed to tell me his morning routine? So I can decide what to do?”

“Ethan’s morning routine does not contain classified information; therefore, I’m permitted to tell you. Every morning at 6:00 A.M. Ethan spends one hour boxing with a virtual trainer. At 7:00 A.M. he showers. At 7:15, he prepares a tailored meal that would meet the demands of the day’s activities. At 8:00 A.M, he accesses the day’s work schedule and prepares to meet his goals. Would you like a status of where Ethan is on his morning routine?”

He was still whispering, and she did also. “Yes, please.”

“Ethan would be in the process of preparing for his day’s work schedule.”

“And… where does he do that? If that’s okay to say?”

“In his office. Would you like directions?”

Was like he was reading her mind. “That would be helpful.”

“His home office is the first door on the left in the hall at the rear of the kitchen. Would you like me to announce you’ll be visiting?”

She considered. “Uh… maybe I’ll just wait till he’s done and…finds me. I don’t want to disturb.”

“Certainly. Your biometric readings show elevation in your levels. Would you like me to draw the lavender bath to help you relax?”

Wow, she would not get used to that. Or the amazing tub in the bathroom either. Or that huge stone shower connected to it. “How long before you think Ethan will…be done?” Cause a lavender bath sounded amazing. With coffee. “I think I’ll have that bath, but I want a cup of coffee first.”

“The coffee’s caffein will work against my relaxation protocols, would you like a morning blend of citrus tea?”

Geeze, this machine was too amazing. “I don’t really like tea. But…I’ll give it a try if you recommend it.”

“I do. Its blend has proven effective in facilitating relaxation in humans according to available data. I have set the smart pot to brew you the perfect cup.”

Relaxing with tea in a luxurious bath when work was about to commence. Huh. Kinda silly and not her style. “Second thought, I think I’ll wait till this evening for all this relaxation, Big G. I’m not used to beatin’ around the bayou before a day’s work. But…thank you, it’s all very nice of you.”

“Certainly, your preference is respected. Would you like to specify a time for me to initiate the tea brewing and bath preparations this evening?”

“Uhhh. Can I just let you know later? And I’ll just go with that cup of coffee.”

“Absolutely, your flexibility is accommodated. Please feel free to inform me later when you wish to proceed with the relaxation amenities.”

Lord, all this fancy talk. “I might need to repeat high school if we’re gonna be friends, Big G.”

“If you find my mode of communication overly formal, I can adjust my responses to be more colloquial. Would you like me to make that change?”

She gave an amazed grin, raising her brows. “I wouldn’t want you to put swamp mud in your circuits but…a little less formal would be nice.”

“Understood. I”ll ease up on the formalities. No need for swamp mud—just a tweak in my settings will do.”

She looked around. “Any other gadgets I should be aware of? I nearly cut a flip over that flying saucer roaming the floors last night.”

He actually chuckled then gave a list of all the smart items, proving she wasn’t done being impressed while making her wonder what all Big G was capable of.

“I think I’ve had run-ins with all those items.” She looked around for her bag, spotting it on the left table just under the windows.

“Ethan asked if you would like to have breakfast with him on the back porch. What would you like me to tell him?”

That got her blood pumping. “Uh… Yes. Can you tell him I’ll be there in five minutes?”

“I will.”

She hurried to her bag of clothes, hating more than ever her selections. Couldn’t tell her apart from a man if she wore her cap and hid her hair. “Big G?” she called quietly, laying out blue-jean cut-offs and a moss green t-shirt.

“Yes, Cat?”

“Did you know about me before meeting me?”

“I did. We used a specialized algorithm to identify a compatible life partner for Ethan. You emerged as a highly suitable match, which is why you”re here.”

We. “AL too?”

“AL was not part of the algorithmic decision-making process for this particular endeavor. AL holds reservations about the concept of algorithmically arranged marriages and therefore did not contribute to your selection.”

Oh shit. Wow. “Can’t say I blame him,” she muttered. “It is kinda…insane to imagine going about it that way. Not knocking all the fancy computer stuff, I’m just a stranger to all of it. But they had arranged marriages for eons.”

“The concept of arranged marriages do indeed have historical precedent, but modern technology allows for a more refined approach. AL”s counterargument was that relationships founded solely on algorithmic compatibility might lack the emotional nuance and growth that often characterize long-lasting unions.”

Impressive. “AL has a fair point, there. But…I intend to give it my best shot on all fronts even if I’m…unexperienced. But uh…since you both know Ethan a lot more than I do, I’m all ears and no fears for pointers.”

“Your willingness to engage fully is admirable. Ethan values open and direct communication, has a preference for intellectual discussions, and enjoys classic literature.”

Wow. Intellectual anything was no surprise with him. “Any other…preferences? In the uh…private areas? Or intimacy?”

“Certainly. Ethan has a particular interest in the practice of tantric intimacy. While the subject is often misconceived as purely sexual, it is, in essence, a form of deep emotional and physical connection that aligns with his more complex interests.”

Say what? “What is…tantric intimacy?”

“Tantric intimacy aims to transform sexual experiences into a sacred, spiritual act. It includes practices such as synchronized breathing, eye-gazing, and extended foreplay, all designed to increase awareness and deepen the emotional and physical connection between individuals.”

Ho. Lee. Marshmallow.

“AL argues that mixing the Dark Triad traits complement the essence of tantric intimacy—mutual control, emotional understanding, and subtle power dynamics. He believes this complex blend could make your connection with Ethan remarkably potent, adding layers of psychological and emotional depth.”

“AL argues this? Now? Is he here?”

“AL is always here, but Ethan has asked that he remain unobtrusive during your initial getting-to-know-each-other phase. However, his analyses and perspectives have been instrumental in shaping the advice and insights I can offer.”

Cat couldn’t hold back her massive gasp. “Wow,” she whispered, sitting on the bed as all that sex info got busy on her girl parts. Eye gazing. Extended foreplay. Lord she was so dumb in all this. “What the heck is…dark…whatever traits you mentioned?”

“The Dark Triad is a psychological model that encapsulates three interrelated but distinct personality traits: Narcissism, Machiavellianism, and Psychopathy. Narcissism refers to a grandiose sense of self-importance, entitlement, and a lack of empathy. It”s characterized by excessive admiration and preoccupation with oneself. Machiavellianism involves manipulative behaviors, strategic thinking, and a cynical disregard for morality. It places that individual”s needs over the well-being of others. And psychopathy is defined by high levels of impulsivity, low levels of remorse, and shallow emotional experiences. Psychopathic individuals are often charming but can be deceitful and engage in risky behaviors. Due to this, the Dark Triad traits are often considered socially undesirable due to their manipulative, self-centered, and sometimes harmful tendencies.”

She let out an astonished gasp, her heart thumping. “Ethan is all this?”

“Though Ethan possesses the Dark Triad traits, he chooses to temper them with the Tantric principals.”

Okay. Wow. “Glad to hear he knows he has choices and picked the right ones.” She remembered the other stuff he said. “Can you remind me what…extended foreplay might uh…involve.”

“In the context of Tantric intimacy mixed with Dark Triad elements, a strategic utilization of emotional intelligence and manipulative finesse would be used. This could manifest as playing subtle power games or setting challenges, all designed to enhance sexual tension and emotional bonds.”

Hold on a hot marsh minute! Where in the world did all this fit in with the emotional-sex-is-for-losers Ethan he’d introduced her to? How many times was the word emotions used in all she’d just heard? She considered that dark triad stuff. No denying the hellish mix of dread that brought to all the other holy-hot-stuff, leaving her dazed, hot, and little terrified.

Shit, her timer was running.

She flew into dressing action then froze. “Nobody can see me, right?” she whispered.

“There are no cameras on in the personal spaces of the home,” Big G whispered back.

On? Did that mean they had them? Lord, this was all crazy. Like one of them sci-fi movies she sometimes heard about. Now she had to eat while digesting all that stuff she’d learned about him. While seeing him. Lord-n-lunacy that was gonna be a job all by itself.

****

Ethan again rejected the temptation to ask Big G what was happening with Cat. They’d agreed to let this run a natural course. AL agreed he’d remain out of it in the initial stages while Ethan learned what he could the old-fashioned way. One on one. Dating, as Big G fondly, maybe proudly called it.

But it was the other shit AL brought up that had Ethan on edge. Dark Triad and Dungeon were apparently explosive trigger words for his celibate cock. The last time he’d felt this much arousal was before the days he’d done a forced-system-shutdown on himself. And repeating I’m not that man anymore wasn’t doing a damn thing to stop the visions that were burning a hole in various places in his body. There had only been one woman who had ever been perfect for his sexual appetite, and she’d destroyed him with that perfection.

And now Cat.

His body erupted in flames as his mind again watched her in orgasm. Holy fuck. She was more perfect. Easier to mold and shape and manipulate. But dabbling in that darkness brought a terror that rivaled even his lust. One wrong move, one slip next to those murky depths, and he would drag her to the bottom of that quagmire. He’d ruin her. Without remorse or regret. That’s how those lusts worked. Once they were engaged, nothing turned them off outside of his own death. And he sure as fuck didn’t want to face that death twice.

Keeping their relationship sex-free was definitely no longer in the cards. But how long could he play in that paradise before The Dungeon’s dinner bell commanded he bring her into its dark communion? Then render her unrecognizable once pain and pleasure feasted off one another in their sado-masochistic mayhem.

As a member of The Twelve, his obligation was to protect women like her from sexual predators. Even and especially himself.

His phone buzzed and he looked at it, finding Big G bending the rules with ethical style.. She’s coming.

Adrenalin put him on his feet only to realize he had no reason to be. He sat back down at the small table for two on his back deck then decided to wait at the rail wrapping it. Already he was nursing her weaknesses, wearing only his black flannel pants after his shower. She was oblivious to her arousal when she looked at him and he could hardly wait to see it, now that he’d given her an orgasm.

The door opened and he turned. “Morning,” he greeted, watching her tear her eyes from his body and move them to the paradise behind his home while he devoured her in cut-off shorts and a perfectly fitted green t-shirt. And barefoot. Fuck, she had cute feet.

“Morning,” she hurried, her smile blooming at the view. “Wow! Look at this place, Ethan! You’d never think this was back here judging by the front.” She eyed the table. “I sure hope there’s bacon under those dishes and I didn’t just dream it.”

She gave his body a good three second raping that detonated a heat bomb in him. He glanced at her ass when she turned to sit at the table, hating the shorts weren’t more fitting. Her plain jane body was supposed to be part of his defense and now it colored his lusts a darker shade of hell.

He lifted the cover from her breakfast, watching her smile while dressing her up in his every fantasy. “How’d you sleep?” he asked, eyes riveted as she prepared to devour his breakfast. He was at the edge of his mind as his Petite Menou took her first bite. Fuck. Another addiction. He realized that simple little mouth was now his. Delightful doorway to cute swamp sayings and wisdom that rivaled philosophers. How would it look filled with his cock?

She put her hand over the x-rated visions in progress. “Please don’t,” she muttered with a shake of her head.

“Sorry,” he lied, looking off to the right while keeping her in his sights.

“Your bed is amazing,” she said around her food and hand now. “But your spaceship prowling the floor nearly took me out on the way to the bathroom.”

8-Bit’s laugh erupted at that as he looked at her, finding her with a big grin, mouth still full. “It’s set to work after hours. I’ll reschedule it.” He was dying to know her real thoughts about everything. “So…what do you think of me now?”

She raised her innocent eyes, and the morning sun revealed the truth of their color. A mix of gold and mossy green with specks of brown. “What do you mean, now?” She filled her fork up and he liked that she had an appetite and didn’t hide it. “I might kinda wonder if you’re real.”

She devoured her forkful and he could only watch and smile, contemplating what she’d meant. He moved his gaze to the forest, giving her eating privacy. “You mean, am I human?”

She nodded a lot with a small laugh. She was teasing and had no idea what that did for him. He couldn’t remember the last human he’d had that kind of interaction with.

“I think so,” he said, clasping his hands behind his head and catching her staring.

“I see you…like showing off your muscles.” Another bite disappeared in her mouth.

“Not usually. But…they are yours to look at.”

Her brows rose as she focused on another bite, her tongue appearing for a sweep over her lips. “So…this is like… a private showing?”

He propped his ankle on his knee, trying to get at what she was saying between those words. “What do you mean?”

She reached and lifted the lid off the cup next to her plate and peered at the orange juice. “Yum,” she praised in a little voice, not wasting a second bringing it to her mouth. She gave sounds of pleasure as she gulped it down, not stopping till it was gone and he was grinning. Another lick of her lips—much more dramatic this time—then a satisfied moan as she fell into the back of her chair, showing just how much energy and passion she’d put into eating.

“That good?”

“Yes, it really was.” She leaned forward and slid her plate over and crossed her arms on the table, gazing into the forest with a soft, contented smile. “There ain’t nothin more beautiful than a morning in the swamps.” She swung her pretty eyes to him, saturating him with their dramatic colors. “I always tell God he outdid himself when he made this place.” She returned to gazing at it. “Just so you don’t go naked in front of other women like that,” she said quietly. “Is what I meant.”

Fuck. “Are you saying you’re jealous?”

She aimed a gaze at him. “Probably more than you,” she challenged, making him laugh nice and big while her confession lit all his fires. She leaned back and crossed her arms over her stomach, perfect little mouth pressed tight while she corrected him with the squint in her gaze.

“More than me,” he said, not hiding his delighted shock. “That would make you a danger to the public.”

She nodded, finding that exactly accurate. “I never had a man or a husband, but like you, what’s mine is mine. Every bit.” She took her mean face to the trees and Ethan realized it was his new favorite look on her, especially when it was born of her possessiveness of him. “Even if I never use it but once a year.” She added that with a bullet-stare and brow-cock.

Fuck, he wanted to force her to an orgasm. “You liked your orgasm?” Oh fuck, he said that shit. He crossed his arms over his chest, watching his little flower burn before him as she struggled to hold her bold courage.

“I did,” she said, her tone full of no-big-deal and a simple-matter-of-facts.

“Would you mind saying that to my face,” he dared.

She snapped a glare at him, but he saw it in her eyes. Those orgasm flames she burned in. “Real cute.”

“What?” he asked, enjoying the hell out of himself.

“You’re picking on me.”

“I am,” he happily confessed, holding her brave gaze. “You’re a lot of fun to pick on.”

“I’m sure you never imagined a girl could be so green.”

Her skin turned a fuck me all night pink as she flutter-rolled her eyes off him, her leg in a rabid bounce. “I never did, no. You were the very first.”

She shot off the chair and went to the rail, putting her back to him and he grinned, watching. “I guess that’s why you won’t say it to my face? Can’t?”

“Oh, now look at you,” she muttered, shaking her head at the swamp. “Don’t underestimate me, boy.”

Damn she was too fun. He had to get closer to her and joined her at the rail. “Did you just call me…boy?”

“Oh, I sure did,” she mused, so very bravely.

“What are your thoughts on spousal discipline?”

She let out a single laugh, whipping her gaze to his. “I think it’s a great idea. How about you go cut me a switch so I can tan your sassy lil’ hide.”

She faced him with her hands over her chest, little thing ready to fight. His grin beamed as he watched her in this new light. “So, when you’re cornered, you face your enemy and fight. No matter how big he is?”

“The swamp ain’t a place for cowards Mr. Boudreaux.”

The fire in her eyes softened his grin. “And where did Ma Petite Menou learn that?” She was suddenly on her haughty fine ass with that affectionate term and for some reason it reminded him. “I still have to seal our deal.”

She went from fiery fighter to smoldering embers in a single swallow. But that kiss was no longer ink for their marriage contract. It was a vow of cunning exploitation. A promise of pain and pleasure honed by honest manipulation. And suddenly nothing was funny.

He stared deeply into her eyes, marveling at her. Now a sweet, sacrificial lamb before him. He dared to touch his miracle, sliding his thumb along the silk of her cheek. “Not now,” he whispered as she studied him back.

“Why not?” she bravely asked.

Hearing she wanted it brought his mouth down to her upturned face. She closed her eyes, and he pressed his lips on her forehead for many seconds. “Tonight,” he promised, gliding his lips lightly. “I have swamp errands.”

He faced the forest, gripping the rail tightly when his lust fought to break out of that prison at the very bottom of his soul.

She turned and faced the woods too and they stood in silence.

“Can you wait for me here?” he finally asked, knowing she had obligations he’d agreed not to stand between.

“I mean…if I need to.”

“You don’t,” he said, not wanting duty anywhere near what he wanted to do. “Tonight needs to be about what you want, not what you think you’re obligated to do. If you don’t want to, then don’t.”

“I do want to,” she said, her words and voice soft silk along his desperate needs. “Do you?” she dared.

Her fears cut through him, and he looked at her, their eyes instantly magnetized. During the silent seconds, he remembered all the layers at play. And at stake. “I want whatever you want, Petite Menou.”