CHAPTER 9
Maggie couldn’t draw fast enough. She was anxious to see the real Spook that her eyes alone couldn’t capture. She held her breath nearly the entire time she raced out the information and in three minutes she paused, staring at the first angle. She had at least ten she’d collected and the one she looked at was the very first one. His face right before hers, eyes closed. She drew his beard very lightly, leaving the shadow of his face and the scar to be easily seen behind. Oh God, he was so beautiful. Everything about him, especially his need to hide, she saw it there and it brought painful hungers that stole her breath. She had to have this man. Every beautiful bit of him.
“Drawing already?” he asked behind her.
“Yes, I have to. It’s like…a terrible itch and the pencil on the paper is the only thing that can scratch it.”
“Am I… difficult to draw?”
She paused, wondering what he meant. “Not at all, you’re the easiest I’ve drawn, maybe. I’ve got at least ten angles in my head. Usually I can draw them in five minutes, but my mind keeps recalling more and more details.
“Wow,” he said, getting closer. “Can I see?”
“Yes. It doesn’t bother me. Look,” she said, happy to share the moment with him as her hand continued race drawing the details.
“Holy shit,” he muttered, making her laugh.
“It’s fascinating,” she agreed. “I don’t know how I do it, but I know it’s a gift and am thrilled to have it.” She turned the page and began the next image.
“You’re fast,” he said, amazed.
“It’s like a run on sentence in my head. A single vision with many parts. After all of them, I usually have a single one that emerges from the set. Like these are just lines in a fingerprint that creates a bigger picture. That’s the part I like the best. What is coming? What will it be? What masterpiece am I about to uncover?
“Not sure about a masterpiece,” he muttered.
“Oh, I am very sure,” she whispered, turning the page again. “Maybe my magnum opus.”
His laugh brought hers and she was too excited to care about what he thought.
“I’ve wanted to draw you since the day I met you.”
“Is that why you always wanted to touch?”
“Yes!” she cried.
“If you had told me it was for that, I may have let you.”
She paused her drawing. “What did you think it was for?”
“Uhh, not…for drawing.”
She got back to it, smiling to herself. “For marrying?”
He didn’t answer right away. “Maybe.”
She gave a laugh. “Maybe you were right just a little. At first,” she added, not wanting him to know she still felt that way.
****
Spook watched her speed draw, shredded by her words. Maybe you were right just a little. At first. It should’ve made him feel better to know she wasn’t as into him as he’d thought or that she was finally accepting he couldn’t give her what she wanted. But no, he was fucking gutted.
He really fucking needed to catch his head with her. And now was the perfect time to move on since she had.
The time to sleep came along with him wondering what she’d do. He listened until exhaustion tugged at his eyes until he couldn’t hold on anymore. But his brain surely didn’t give him any rest and he dreamed about her doing it. Legs pulled back and her fingers rubbing her clit and fingering herself. He woke up in the night with a killer hard on then heard it. His cock jerked as he made out the tiny strains in her hitched breathing. He pulled his cock out and grabbed it in both hands, holding it tight as he clenched his eyes shut.
Judging by the sounds, she was almost fucking done. Her breaths caught every other second with the barest moans making him wish he’d told her she didn’t need to be quiet. Surely that wasn’t healthy. Fuck, he’d make sure and tell her tomorrow. He couldn’t have her, but he could fucking have that, and he wanted it more than anything.
By morning, he felt like he had missed-orgasm hang-over. He’d ended up not jacking off once she was done. Wasn’t the same. He made breakfast and coffee went to the far edge of the piece of land to relieve himself. He’d had time to think about her gifts and how to use them. She was able to see things clearly that she touched. He’d use that to develop mental map-building skills. But first he’d strengthen her non-dominant side.
After breakfast chores, he got his black bandana and brought it to her. “You ready to start?”
“Yes,” she said, nearly flipping out of the hammock before standing breathless before him.
“I’d like to strengthen your non-dominant side. Which hand do you write with?”
“Oh…my right. But I draw with my left.”
He paused, eyeing her. “Really,” he muttered, getting her nod. Amazing. “Then let’s start by sharpening your senses.” He went behind her and tied the bandana over her eyes. “Tell me if it’s tight enough. It needs to be completely dark.”
“A little tighter.”
He pulled more. “That?”
“Yes, that’s good.”
He knotted it. “You’ll keep this on till tomorrow evening. I’ll have you do various activities that will build your other senses.”
“Okay,” she whispered, reaching around her. He let her hand run into him and stood still as she used her touch to learn her surroundings. “This is really going to give me a lot of itches. Can I draw during?”
“If you can do it without looking.”
She nodded, her hands moving over his chest. “I can.”
He pulled her right hand off his chest when she began memorizing his nipple.
“Sorry, it’s…almost compulsory when I’m touching. Like a reflex,” she explained as her other hand roamed over his shoulder then along his arms, feeling his muscles.” You have a beautiful body.”
He stepped away, unable to stand it. “You’re just noticing?” he only half joked.
“No, definitely not. I’m confirming,” she said, taking him seriously. “Sorry if that’s inappropriate.”
“I don’t mind.” He wanted to ask how beautiful her pussy was after having her fingers all over it.
She began to walk slowly, feeling with her foot. “This is…a little scary,” she said.
“Do you hear the fire?”
She paused, listening then pointed. “There?”
“Close enough. Listen to it for a minute. Then walk toward it slowly. When you get two feet away, I’ll stop you. You’re learning how many feet away the fire is using the sound it’s giving off.”
“Okay.” She carefully made her way, leading with her right foot the entire time. “Now?” she whispered.
“Not quite.”
She went a couple more feet.”
“Now?”
“I’ll tell you.”
“This is…scary.” She paused, angling her head and feeling around with her hands. “I can feel the warmth more.” She took two more steps. “Am I close?”
“You’re getting close.”
She slowed even more. “I don’t like this,” she whispered.
“I’m right here.”
“I’m imagining when you’re not there.”
“Just focus on learning.”
She went another six inches. “Now?”
“Maggie,” he said.
“Okay, okay.”
Two more steps took her a whole minute. “You’re close enough. The fire is two feet from you. You feel it?”
“I do.” She pointed. “It’s right there.”
“How many steps was that?”
“Uh…fifteen?”
“It was ten if I count the three half steps you took.”
“I lost track.”
“Now walk back ten steps and listen to the fire again. This time pay attention to the sound as you retreat.”
She did as he said and he watched her, liking that he could without her seeing. She wore what’d he’d instructed she pack. A plain white t-shirt and blue jeans, something durable. He should’ve said twice her size because she filled them in perfectly. Thankfully she had a bra this time.
“Done,” she whispered. “But…that’s not exactly the sound I remember.” She took another step back. “That’s it.”
Interesting. “I’m going to move around you and whistle. See if you can tell how far I am from you.”
He moved about fifteen feet behind her at her twelve o’clock and let out a low whistle.
She turned and pointed right at him. “I think…you’re fifteen steps from me.”
Wow. He moved to her three o’clock, twenty steps away and whistled again.
She turned and pointed right at him. “Twenty…or twenty-one steps away.”
Holy shit. He went to her one o’clock and moved thirty-three steps back.
She glanced right at him. “You’re there,” she pointed. “Thirty…or thirty-one steps back.”
He moved to her eleven o’clock and walked seventy feet back. He gave the same whistle.
Again she pointed almost directly at him. “That would be…seventy feet?” He began walking back and she nodded. “Forty feet. Thirty-five. Twenty…five,” she said, reaching her hand right toward him. “Fifteen. Ten. Five.” She gasped when he stepped into her hand. “There you are,” she said, stepping closer and touching him everywhere. He let her, still dumbstruck with her accuracy while his body devoured her every touch.
“How did you do that? You did almost perfectly.”
“I think I learned that from…solitary. I learned to know how far the footsteps were at serving times.”
Solitary. “How long?” His gut tensed at that thought of her being in something like that.
She aimed her face at his. “How long what?”
“You were in solitary.”
“Sometimes…weeks.”
Sometimes? How often had she gone? “How old?”
She swallowed and he slid his finger near her face, moving the hair away from her mouth. “When I was nine-teen. I went through…a phase.”
“Because of him?”
She gave a small nod.
He gave a special whistle. “When you hear that, it means find me.” He gave another whistle. “When you hear that one, it means go in the opposite direction because there’s danger.” He gave yet another whistle. “That one means make your way to the nearest hideout.”
She nodded. “How many are there?”
“I’ll show you all of them.”
“While blind-folded?”
He smiled, his own quirks screaming to touch her back. “No.”
She reached for him, and he let her touch him, wondering over the tremble in her hands. “I’ll teach you how to find them. We’ll put special clues that only you and I know.”
She nodded and whispered, “Okay,” while memorizing his hand and fingers, stroking the tips of every nail after tracing their surfaces. She brought it up to her face, sliding it against his cheek.
“What are you doing?” he wondered, feeling like it was part of her sensory skills, maybe thrilled now that she required it.
“Feeling you.”
He chuckled. “I see that.”
“That’s all.” She let him go. “I like feeling.”
“And how do you like the opposite?”
Her mouth parted and she angled her head right. “I don’t know. I’ve never…I don’t know.”
“Tell me when you know where I’m going to touch you.” He slowly raised his pointer finger and touched her on the forehead, getting her sharp gasp.
“I didn’t sense that at all.”
He moved his hand down and touched her right shoulder, getting the same shocked reaction. And again when he touched her other shoulder.
“I can’t…I can’t sense you,” she whispered, sounding worried.
He touched the center of her chest and she jumped, grabbing hold of his hand, her own shaking.
“It’s okay, we’ll practice that one.”
She nodded. “I-I’m…I can’t seem to follow you.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to be able to. I just wanted to see how far your gift went.”
“Not…that far, apparently.”
He touched her cheek and she flinched with a gasp.
“I don’t…like this.”
“Okay. I’ll stop. My hand is in front of you. Take it.”
She reached up and found it, holding it between hers, her fingers back to tracing the lines on his palm like resuming the memorization already in progress.
“Stop,” he instructed. “Be still.”
She stood there until her hands trembled.
“Is it hard to be still?”
“So very,” she said, sounding winded from the effort.
“Think about your breathing. Focus on slowing it down. Count the breaths in. Measure them out. Count the breaths in. Measure them out.” He demonstrated several times.
She followed his lead, and he stroked her hand with his as she did, adding the stimulation to go with it.
“You’re more relaxed.”
“I am,” she said, smiling and nodding. “I did good?”
“Very good.”
He touched her forehead, getting another flinch. “Sorry,” she whispered.
He touched her face, starting at twelve o’clock, working his way around, pausing five seconds between each number. She began naming the numbers on the clock as he did it. He began skipping numbers and she caught on after three skips.
He changed to random touches, and she couldn’t follow those. With everyone she failed, she got more jumpy. He took her hand and stroked it, establishing a calming center while breathing the way he’d just taught her. He repeated the clock exercise and this time when he did the random, she flinched a little less. Again he stroked her hand with the breathing, and she copied him. He repeated the exercise until she no longer flinched when she got the answers wrong. Took five more tries.
“I’m sorry, I can’t figure it out.”
“You weren’t supposed to,” he said, adding her nose and mouth to his random touches this time, getting her smiles. “You were just supposed to learn not to flinch when you got it wrong.”
“Oh,” she whispered as he touched her lips taking too long to move his finger off.
“You…need to touch too?” she wondered, her brows furrowed.
“I do,” he admitted.
She nodded a little. “You can…if you need to. For training and… teaching.”
He did need it for teaching, just not to teach her.
“I want to work on your reflexes more,” he said, stepping away from her before he couldn’t.
“Okay.”
“You need to know how to react if you’re ever attacked. You up for that?”
“Blindfolded?”
“Yes. I’ll teach you both, but learning it blindfolded allows you to feel exactly what’s happening on your body.”
“Okay,” she said, nodding. “What will you do?”
“I’m going to do various things and I want you to just react like you naturally would.”
“Got it.”
He moved behind her and quickly put her in a rear choke hold, lifting her off the ground. She grabbed his arms with both hands, yanking and he set her down.
“If this wasn’t me and I intended on choking you out then dragging you off somewhere, what would you do?”
“I don’t know,” she said, head angled down.
“I’m going to teach you some moves and options.” He went back behind her. “First of all, you wouldn’t likely be blindfolded, and you’d watch people around you. If you’re walking alone, which you shouldn’t do but if you find yourself walking alone, and you pass a big dude, you keep an eye on him after you pass him, making sure he’s not coming behind you. If you see his is, you run, if he catches you and manages to wrap his arm here,” he said, putting his arm back like he had it, “the first thing you want to do is drop your head and body and grab his arm, pulling down as you do that. I’m going to let you go and do it again. I want you to tuck your chin, drop your upper body and yank on my arm.”
He repeated it and she did it perfectly. “Now while you have me in not the best position, you want to use those seconds to strike where it hurts.” He took her hand and moved it between his legs, stopping shy of his crotch. “You see where I’m aiming your hand? His balls. You grab them and squeeze as hard as you can. You’re not trying to fight him, you’re trying to create a moment to escape so you can run like hell. Chances are, you can’t beat a man, but I’ll teach you plenty of ways that you can, should you ever find yourself in a situation where you can’t run, and you have to fight. In those cases, you want to go for kill shots.”
“Kill?”
“Yes, if you want to live,” he assured.
“Can’t I just…hurt him?”
“If you fail, it could be you dead. If he’s attacking you, his intentions aren’t anything nice and when he finishes whatever he wants to do to you, killing the witness usually follows. You go for the kill shot, you understand?”
She nodded.
“Let’s do it again.”
She went through the motions, literally grabbing his balls that time. “Sorry,” she gasped when he grunted.
“It’s okay,” he strained, taking a few seconds to let the pain pass before repeating the attack several times until she did perfectly.
He took half a minute to let her catch her bearings. “Now I’m going to speed up. Ready?”
She nodded and he grabbed her quickly and lifted her off the ground. “Not fast enough.”
They worked on the move five more times until she was able to defend herself even when he was at his fastest. “That’s good,” he said, winded. “It’s time to learn how to escape any kind of arm hold.”
He spent anoher thirty minutes on that, quitting when she was able to quickly get out of each attack.
“Very good,” he said, winded. “Let’s take a break. After lunch, I’ll teach you how to defend yourself if any bastard manages to get you on the ground or floor.” He wiped his face on his arm. “Find your way to the chair you sat in. Don’t worry, I won’t let you sit in the fire.”
She gasped a laugh, feeling her way as he followed from a couple feet. She made it to the chair, reaching out to the seat then turning to sit. “I did it!”
“You did,” he said, getting a cup and bottle of water and setting it next to her chair. “I put water and a cup in front of you.”
She felt around and put the cup between her knees then got the bottle of water and opened it. She poured, putting her finger in the cup, and stopping when the water touched it.
“Smart girl,” he murmured.
“Do you teach other women this stuff?” she wondered, finishing her water then fanning her hand in front of her face.
“No. You popped my cherry,” he was happy to say.
“Oh,” she said, sounding happy and maybe confused about that. “What is that?”
He realized the term was foreign to her, which was interesting. “Just means you’re my first.”
“Am I a good student so far?”
“Exceptional,” he said, staring at her chest again. His brain was hell-bent on studying that part of her. “Tomorrow I want to teach you how not to die in the swamp.”
“While blindfolded?”
“Definitely both. You may as well be blindfolded in some parts of the swamps at night it’s so dark. But I need to show you what parts are safe to navigate, and which are not and how to map your locations and not get lost.”
“Sounds…scary.” She fanned her face again.
“You wanna cool off? I know a place near here.”
“A place?”
“To swim.”
Her perfect lips parted in wonder. “Blindfolded?”
“You don’t need eyes to swim.”
“If…you’ll help.”
“I’ll make sure you don’t drown,” he said, his cock already hard with how that might actually go.
“Okay. I’d like that. But…I need to change.”
“You bring shorts?”
“Well…I brought sleeping shorts.”
“That’ll do. And bring a towel. I’ll bring everything to bathe while there.”
“Fun,” she said, smiling.
Yeah. Very.
****
At the swimming hole, Spook led her and made her sit. “Put your feet in.”
“In?”
“The water.”
“It’s here?” Panic filled her as she glanced blindly around.
“Yes, right in front of you.”
“What…kind of water? I don’t like gross water.”
He chuckled. “It’s not gross.”
“But…what’s at the edge?”
He laughed now. “Dirt.”
“I don’t want to put my feet without seeing,” she said, ready to insist.
“Well, how will you swim?”
She jumped when water splashed. “You’re in?”
“Yes,” he laughed. “Come here.”
She glanced toward his voice now close. “Where are you?”
“I’m right where your feet would be if you put them in the water.”
“You’re standing?”
“Yes. The water is up to my waist.”
She gasped at the splash of water on her. “It’s cold!”
“You want to get on my back?”
“On your back?”
“I’ll hold you till you see it’s safe.”
The idea of getting on his back was worth whatever risks she couldn’t see. “Okay. But how do I get on?”
“I’m standing at the edge. Come feel your way.”
She reached a hand out and encountered his wet shoulder. “Found you,” she whispered, grabbing hold of both shoulders while on her knees. “Now what?” she gasped, suddenly scared.
“I’ll move slowly forward.”
She jerked her hands off. “I can’t do that, I’ll fall.”
“Come here,” he said, one arm under her legs, the other behind her back. She latched on to his neck when he pulled her in.
“Oh God, don’t let me go, please.”
“I won’t.” He lowered slowly into the water, and she gasped, holding tighter to his neck.
“I’m scared.”
“What are you scared of if you can swim?”
“I can’t see!”
He pulled her blindfold off and she blinked against the bright light. “There.”
She stared at his pretty blue eyes right before her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered as her fingers moved at the nape of his neck. She’d never needed to touch something as much as she did him.
“For what?” he asked, his gaze on her mouth.
“I can’t help…but touch.”
“I know,” he said, like he was okay with it. He wouldn’t be if he knew why.
She released a breath, daring a look around, her breath catching at how pretty it was. “Oh,” she whispered.
“You want me to let you go now?”
“No!”
“Get on my back then.”
She eyed his shoulders and made her way around his body, trying not to strangle him. Once on his back she pressed her whole body tightly to his and wrapped her arms around his shoulders till her face was pressed into the side of his head. “Don’t let me go,” she shuddered, not wanting to feel the bottom.
“I won’t let you go,” he assured, moving gently up and down with her. “Feels good?”
God, yes. “Amazing,” she whispered, her jaw shaking even though it wasn’t cold. Feeling his hard body with so much of hers felt amazing. She focused on every bit of it, closing her eyes as she did.
“You’re gonna choke me,” he muttered, like he thought it was funny.
“Sorry,” she whispered, loosening her hold. “It’s pretty here,” she said, trying not to seem like a freak.
“It is. I love it here.”
She made fists with her hands to stop from touching but now with her mouth so near him, that was a bigger temptation. “You come here a lot?”
“When it’s summer and I’m close by.” He sank deeper into the water. “I got you,” he said when she returned to strangling him.
“How did your exercise go last night?”
The question brought a heat between her legs and like her need to touch when things were in her grasp, her hips pushed against his back. She froze in sudden panic.
“You managed okay?” he asked, like he hadn’t noticed.
“Y-yes,” she stuttered, forgetting she wasn’t going to tell him.
“Good.”
“It was…not as easy.” Oh no, she didn’t mean to say that. “It was fine.”
“Why do you think?” he asked.
Something in his tone made it hotter between her legs and she fought not to push. “Uh…Because…I don’t…I don’t know.”
The words wrenched from her throat, leaving her panting in arousal and worry that he’d know.
“Let’s not talk about it,” he said.
“I don’t…mind talking about it.”
“You sound like you mind.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Why are you sorry?”
She put her forehead against the back of his head. “I don’t even know, I’m…I’m nervous.”
“If it bothers you to talk about, then don’t.”
“It doesn’t bother me.”
“It does.”
“Not about that.”
He went quiet for a few seconds. “About what?”
“I can’t…tell you.”
“Okay,” he said, dropping it.
God, she didn’t want to drop it. “It was hard because…you weren’t helping.”
He didn’t answer for many tormenting seconds. “But you managed.”
“Yes.”
“Took you longer?”
“Yes,” she whispered, so hot between her legs.
“You did everything the way I said to?”
“Yes,” she nodded, her breath catching when she pushed herself against him. “I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I can’t…”
He reached behind her and pressed her butt, forcing her against him again.
“Oh God,” she barely whispered, pushing harder, rocking her hips.
“Fuck,” he said, putting his other hand on her butt and moving her on him.
She wrapped her legs tighter, fighting for more pressure while holding him so tight with her mouth at his ear.
“Use your hand,” he said, his hot words making her gasp.
She let one hand go and moved it between her legs.
“Right on your clit,” he whispered. “Make it so fucking hot.” He reached and held the side of her face as she pressed her mouth against his ear, fighting not to be too loud.
“Spook,” she begged, as the heat got unbearable. “I need…”
“Stop,” he ordered, sounding winded as he walk with her. Her heart hammered in her chest as she moved her finger from between her legs, holding on to him.
He turned and sat her on the bank then hopped out. She climbed to her feet, fighting her arousal and worry, scared to look at him.
“Come here,” he said.
She glanced at him, and he held his hand toward her. She realized he’d spread the towel on the ground and fire erupted between her legs as she made her way to him, holding her arms.
“Take off your bottoms and wrap in this.”
She took the second towel from him as he turned around, giving her privacy. She did as he said. “I’m done.”
“Lay down on the towel. On your stomach,” he said, still not looking.
She did as he said, putting her head face down on her arms.
She gasped when he opened her legs with his hands then lifted the towel. “Touch yourself,” he whispered.
She moved her hand under her and stroked her clit. “Spook,” she gasped at feeling the tip of his finger in her opening. She lifted her butt, desperate for it. “Yes.”
He moved his finger inside her, his other hand stroking her butt cheek. “Your fucking pussy is wet.”
His thumb slid between the crack of her but, stroking softly there until she trembled everywhere.
“Spook,” she cried, lifting her hips higher. “It’s so hot.”
“Fuck, you’re killing me,” he gasped in French, pushing his finger inside her. He moved in and out several times then pushed back in deep, his hand pressing against her.
“Oh God, oh God,” she gasped, jerking her hips as she rubbed faster. “It’s coming, Spook it’s coming.”
“Fucking let it come,” he said, winded as he moved his finger so fast inside her. God she’d never felt such pleasure. It bucked her and shook her, moving her hips in frantic jerks. His hand gripped her butt cheek hard as something hot and wet hit her skin, his deep groans straining out while her orgasm went so long.
When it was over, she felt him wipe whatever hot had gone on her. She slowly rose on her elbows and turned, finding him standing with his back to her, head hanging. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he said between breaths. “I can’t fucking do that again.”
The words shredded all the amazing feelings he’d just given her. She stared at him, never hurting so much from words and the craving to have something.