Page 15 of Outcast’s Vow

Baptiste’s response is a deep and firm rumble.

“No. I don’t share what I fought for.”

“Oh?”

He leans in even closer, the next words for me alone.

“If I need my lust quenched, then I’ll have you.”

I’m a planner. A strategist. Someone who is ready for anything. Today was no exception. I just didn’t reckon on one thing.

I never reckoned on Baptiste.

I am stuck with a man who I can’t read, who doesn’t believe in love, and knows precisely how to get under my skin.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

This is even worse than I bargained for.

6

BAPTISTE

The hot water cleanses. For a shower on a plane, it’s surprisingly good. The pressure is hard, and the soft soap feels like it was made for royalty. As I clean the day’s dirt and grime and mud from my body at ten thousand feet, I think about her.

Sitting out there right now, in the cabin. So fucking close.

As the water runs down my back, I let the triumphant feeling course through me.

I like to win.

I didn’t give a shit about the ceremony after the Chase. I hated being there with the rest of the loud, drunk participants, muttering meaningless words. I had done the hard work, and I just wanted to go home. I spent the time focused on Sylvie. Admiring how, even with a day of trekking through foliage, she’s a natural beauty. How her hazel eyes sparkled, even when she was trying to scold me. How her skin is smooth and flawless. How she has a perfect, poised posture, and how her lips are full and inviting. Her mere presence is more than enough.

She seemed apprehensive as we murmured the ancient vows on the sand with the others, and that’s understandable. She’s scared of this strange man who tracked her down across an island. I’ll give her time to adjust to her new reality.

A Supreme Elder’s pampered daughter, she regarded me the way they all do. Like I don’t belong with them.

This precious brat, at my mercy.

I was once a poor boy playing in the dirt, and now I’m playing with a jewel.

In the shower, my hand slowly reaches for my erect cock. I begin to play with myself, finally able to relax up here in the clouds with her on the other side of the locked door.

The things I want to do to her.

I like how she bit back on the beach. I like her spikiness as we watched the inebriated rabble dance into the night. I liked the smear of camo makeup on her cheekbone. How she’s the one woman I’ve met who can deny me. Even I can admit I was impressed with her toughness in the rainforest. Despite her beauty, Sylvie Levine is not going to roll over and give up to me easily.

I’d love to shut her up and make her rich mouth beg for me. How I want to ruin that poised composure of hers.

But here, in this shower, I can’t make myself finish.

I want her, but I can’t have her yet.

And that tension ruins me.

I sigh, drop my hand in defeat, and let the hot water rain over me.

* * *