Chapter 9
Bishop tore through the forest, again in mountain lion form. He knew exactly where the river was located that wound its way through the property several miles back. He needed to get to it like he needed his next breath because he couldn’t bear the scent of Jenny on him one second longer. Leaving her the way he had felt like tearing off his own damn arm, but it couldn’t be helped. He wasn’t about to beg her to want him. Yes, she wanted him sexually, but not as a mate. It felt like being back home all over again. It felt like he was the disappointment once again, and he hated it.
Spotting the river up ahead, he didn’t bother with shifting or easing in. He leapt, padded paws leaving the cold earth as he flung himself into the icy stream. His body dropped beneath the frigid surface, and under the water, he shifted back to human form. Experience had taught him not to get caught by water in animal form even if he was on his own property.
When he broke the surface, he sucked in an agonized breath and whipped the long hair out of his face before his body bobbed back down. He kicked to settle himself right at the surface, treading water to keep his head above water. The flow of the river carried him downstream, but he didn’t care. He knew this forest like the back of his hand, and he knew exactly where the flow would take him. All the while he drifted he used his hands to scrub at his body. The scent of Jenny’s arousal clung to him, and he swore he could practically taste it.
The river slowed and carried him into a shallow pool where his feet finally touched bottom. He made quick work of washing himself some more and growled in frustration when he couldn’t seem to remove Jenny’s scent. It clung to him like a torturous second skin. Worse, he had a hard on that refused to go down, even in the arctic water.
Images of Jenny flashed through his head, and he pinched his eyes shut and snarled against them. It was no use. There’d be no forgetting those berry tipped breasts or that glistening pussy. His memory flashed to her fingers sliding into herself and the way she arched violently like it’d been his fat cock filling her. Before he even realized it, he was fisting his dick, pumping wildly and panting before jets of semen shot from his tip. It had to be a record.
Great, he self-admonished. Add premature ejaculator to my list of shortcomings.
It was her fault. Damn luscious little minx. He had a good mind to go back and fuck Jenny raw, but what would that prove?
That I am a monster. That’s what it’d prove!
He stayed in the river as long as he could stand it. When his teeth started to chatter, he knew it was time to haul his miserable ass back to the cabin…back to his torture.
As he stepped out of the water, he let a partial shift shuttle through him. It was just enough to regenerate clothing, but it did nothing to change the fact that his body was still wet and his long hair and beard were soaked. Even uncomfortable as he physically was, it didn’t keep him from walking as slowly as he could back to the cabin. Admittedly, he was trying to delay the inevitable. All he could do on the slow trek was pray that Jenny had put her damn clothes back on because if he showed up to find her still naked, there’s no telling what he’d do.
Stepping through the front door of the cabin, Bishop didn’t bother attempting to mask his arrival. What was the point? He’d have to face Jenny eventually and now was just as good a time as any.
Lifting his head, he scented the room. The entire walk back, part of him wondered if Jenny had left while he’d been down at the creek jerking his man meat to images of her sprawled out body. Now, the scent of her arousal ripped through him and had him doubling over as he fisted a hand over his stomach.
Bloody fucking hell! How was he supposed to prove to himself and to her that he was a Walker in control when even just the hint of her pheromones was shredding him?
He fought against his inner beats who were demanding he give in to his animalistic nature. It was a struggle, but he finally got his breathing and his urges under control. When his booted foot landed on the bottom step that led up to the room that held his Angel, it felt like he was taking his first step toward the gallows.
By the grace of the Gods, he found Jenny sitting, fully clothed, on the edge of the bed. She was back in her still damp jeans and sweater. Her head was lowered as she studied her raw wrists.
Entering the room, he found the nearest wall and leaned back into it. “We’re going back home in the morning.”
“Back to StoneCrow?” she asked quietly without looking up.
“Yeah,” he answered. “We go back to StoneCrow. Try to figure this out.” Even though she didn’t look up at him, he jerked his chin toward the bathroom. “I packed you a bag. Some of your clothes are in the bathroom.”
Finally, Jenny’s head lifted in surprise, and he smirked. She had an apartment she used as her address in town, but after discovering what she’d done to him, he’d dug into her life as deeply as he could. She didn’t stay at the apartment, it was a ruse. He’d had little difficulty finding her secret penthouse, the one she thought nobody knew about.
“Yeah,” one side of his mouth quirked up. “I know about the penthouse. I know a lot about you now, Jen, but I’d like to know more.” He sighed then continued, “Get cleaned up.” Turning to the door, he stopped and glanced over his shoulder, his eyes dropping to where she was still absently rubbing her wrists. “And, I’m sorry about that.”
She looked down at her wrists, and her hands stilled before she lifted her head. “I’m sorry too, I…”
“Don’t.” He closed the distance to the door. “I don’t want to hear your apologies right now.” He was quiet a few moments before saying, “I want to know what made you do what you did. I want to know why you hid this from me, and I want to know what your intentions are. First, though, we need to get on the road. In the morning I’m sure the storm will have eased some. I wanna get moving before it starts again.” He muttered almost inaudibly, “Can’t afford to get trapped out here with you.”
Jenny opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. “No arguments. It’s been a long day. We’re leaving at dawn before Monroe sends his Sentries to find you.”
“Monroe?”
He couldn’t keep the disdain from his tone as he faced her and explained, “He wants you back.”
“He knows you took me?”
Her words, filled with hope had his back teeth clenching. Again, he couldn’t shake the feeling like there was more going on between Jenny and Monroe than either of them was letting on. “Apparently,” he bit out. “And I’ve been warned about doing you harm. Seems you’re rare and valuable to the Dominant, so there’s that.”
A look passed over Jenny’s features, but he caught it before she dipped her head and tried to hide it. He knew what she was thinking.
“I had no intentions of ever hurting you, Jenny. And, I’m not taking you back just because Monroe ordered me to. This is bigger than him. Right now, Monroe and all his Walkers couldn’t keep you from me.”
“Because you want answers,” she replied.
“I deserve answers.” He jerked a thumb toward the bathroom door. “Get cleaned up and come down when you’re ready. I’ll start dinner.”
***
Jenny wanted to tell Bishop that they still wouldn’t be able to hold down food, but he’d disappeared out the door before she could say anything. He’d have to learn the hard way, and guilt gnawed at her because even now he was still suffering because of her. At least he’d untied her and had looked relieved when she said she’d stay, so it was a start.
Doing as he’d directed, she used the bathroom to quickly change and freshen up. When she looked at her reflection in the mirror, she barely recognized herself. The confidence that typically shone in her eyes was noticeably absent. She didn’t look like the strong-willed, self-confident doctor she’d grown into over the past ten years. No, right now she looked like a vulnerable and worried woman. She was both, and it was unfamiliar territory.
Rooting through the drawers of the vanity, she found a brush and ran it through her hair. She was about to sit down for her first real face-to-face with Bishop, which meant a long awaited conversation with her mate. While she knew he thought little of her character, she hoped he could at least appreciate her appearance. The tiny flame of hope for the survival of any relationship between them was whipping in the wicked backlash of wind caused by her deceit. She prayed it didn’t go out.