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I squealed—“Ah!”—as I came around my fingers at the same time, scrunching my body and falling over sideways, jerking, spraying fluids across the backs of my thighs and knees.
“Christ Almighty!” Friar Tuck gasped, head reeling as he watched me come undone in front of him, writhing on the bench and blushing with sheer mortification.
His jaw dropped.
I tried to make myself small, invisible. There was no hiding from what the chaplain had just seen me do. What he’d just walked in on. “Oh God,” I whimpered.
“We leave you alone for ten minutes and you fuck yourself into a near stupor, little heathen?” His voice was raspy, choked. The man’s glittering eyes couldn’t stop roving over my body, even as my shirt fell back down and I tugged my pants up. “I’m impressed,” he added.
“I’m s-sorry,” I whined. Droplets of me trickled down my leg and onto the hardwood floor of the carriage with stark loudness. I buried my head between my arms and knees. “Oh God, I don’t know what came over me. I’m so humiliated.”
“Aye, I suspect I would be too if you walked in on me stroking my cock to nothing but my filthy dreams.”
“You’re not helping!” My head whipped up from between my knees.
He laughed heartily, his belly rumbling with the effort. His whole body jiggled, and again I found myself wondering what he felt like underneath those plain robes. I was sure he wouldn’t be as soft as I imagined.
Tuck winked. “Your secret is safe with me. Afraid you’ve got to clean up and get out of the carriage, however.”
“Why?”
“Why?” He fumbled. “Well, I suppose I could help you clean up. Can’t say I’m against that—”
“No. No! Why do I have to leave the carriage?”
“Because I’m taking it, and you can’t be in it.”
I frowned, bowing my head. Then I bat my eyelashes at him like Maid Marian told me to do. “I was, erm, hoping I could join you? Into Nottingham? I miss my mother.”
He examined me, eyes narrowing. Then he sighed. “Don’t try to look like Maid Marian. It’s unbecoming of you. No, I’m afraid not. You’re still our prisoner, little heathen, and I can’t make that decision.”
My face pinched, my voice straining. “You’re the only one here to make the decision! Please, I promise I’ll come back.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. Looked behind him to see if anyone was watching. “Lass, you’re too important to our merry band of fuck-ups to let go. Little John would hang me.”
I scoffed and flopped back in the carriage, onto the silky cargo. “That’s what everyone says! Alan was scared of him too. He’s just one man. Why do you all listen to him?”
Tuck’s face grew serious as he stepped into the carriage. Clearly, I’d said the wrong thing. “We all owe our lives to Little John. Without him, we’d be destitute, broken, and without a family. He gave us that. Don’t you see? I won’t turn my back on him. Even for a pretty thing like you.”
My shoulders sagged. “I wish I could command that kind of loyalty and trust.”
“Maybe you will someday. For now, I’ll not ask again: Get out of the cart, before I have to carry you out.”
A sly look chased across my face. I spread my arms and legs out against the silks, lying back. “Shame. My legs suddenly feel like iron weights.”
Tuck rolled his eyes. “You really are impossible, you know that, brat princess?”
“I’m starting to like that name.”
He charged into the carriage and hoisted me off the pile like I weighed no more than a bag of feathers. I snickered as he carried me in his arms like I was his bride, one arm crooked against my back, the other under my knees.
I felt safe and secure in his arms. Even if I had to extort him to get here, I couldn’t help but smile. His arms were stone pillars keeping me airborne.
Yes, now I knew sure and true: Friar Tuck was not as soft as he looked.
Alan-a-Dale kept close watch on me as the day dragged into night. Friar Tuck was gone. So was the carriage and my escape plan. I’d have to make another scheme. Granted, I didn’t even know if I wanted to escape.
I kept flipping on the idea. Every time I thought of Mama or Uncle Gregory, I did. Then I’d think of Little John watching over me, or Friar Tuck lifting me, or Alan-a-Dale infuriating me, and I’d doubt myself.
