The Frenchman's Revenge

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The Frenchman's Revenge Page 8

by Taylor Lee


  His need was so intense that he struggled for air, taking deep, gasping breaths. Christ, he was dizzy. He thought he might black out. All he knew was that he had to go higher, as high as he could. He needed to fuck her, press up in her, fill her to the hilt with his throbbing cock. More than anything, he wanted to bury himself deep inside of her where it was pure and good and filled with love--high up inside her beautiful cunt. His, all his.

  Long after he began hammering in her, one harsh visceral thrust after another, her cunt squeezing, sucking, drawing him deeper, higher, they rose together to a blinding body and mind shattering climax. Their combined cries--pained, ecstatic, joyful--filled the night air. They were too engaged, too far gone in their rapture to know or to care if they were heard. They were alone, just the two of them, sobbing, laughing, gasping for air--trembling with one body shuddering reverberation after another as they lay together, bound together, as if they were one.

  Many moments later, he rolled over and struggled to his knees. He leaned down and kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her swollen mouth, then picked her up in his arms and rose unsteadily to his feet.

  She giggled and whispered, “You better not drop me or I’ll tell everyone I made you weak.”

  He grinned and held her close. Carrying her back through the garden to their bed, his strong, sweaty body gleamed like gold in the moonlight. He laid her on top of the counterpane and went in the bathroom. He washed off his lust-covered body, then returned to her side with a wet cloth. He lay beside her and wiped the sweat off her face, pushing her damp hair back against the pillow. He rubbed the cool cloth over her breasts, smiling when she shivered and clenched at the tickling touch. He leaned down, separated her legs, and buried his face in her crotch, inhaling the erotic smell of their combined sex. He smiled when she whimpered and lifted her hips up against his face.

  “Non, non, mon amour précieux, I should not tease you. That is enough, enough for tonight. Let me clean you, wash you.”

  He wiped off his semen and the sweet juices from her thighs and groin, then gently spread her lips and cleaned the deep puffy folds of her sex. She moaned and sighed, shivers of pleasure rippling over her.

  He threw the cloth to the floor, then lifted her up and pulled the covers back and laid her down on the soft cool sheets. He crawled in beside her and groaned in pleasure when she moved up next to him, fitting her soft curves against the tight sinews of his chest and thighs.

  ~~~

  They lay together wrapped in each others arms, whispering, murmuring words of love and passion. After a while, she felt his body begin to relax, the tight muscles start to release. Hearing his even breathing, she thought he might be asleep.

  She whispered in a soft voice so as not to wake him if he was sleeping.

  “Bai?”

  “Yes, Elena.”

  She hesitated, and then said, “Can you talk about it?”

  After a long silence, he said, “We went to Madam Torrento’s brothel in San Francisco. We took the Chinese prostitutes from the Costa Nostra.”

  She was startled at first and then nodded. He had told her before what the mob was doing. How they were bringing young girls against their will from China in the holds of ships and selling them to the American brothels.

  He tensed, rolled over, and sat up on the edge of the bed. She rose up on one elbow and watched him walk over to the bureau to find his cigarette case. In the flare of the match, she saw the strain tugging at the edges of his eyes and mouth. Without looking at her, he lit a cigarette and took several deep drags, blowing the smoke high in the air.

  He brought the cigarette case and an ashtray over to the bed. She moved to make room for him when he climbed back in bed and propped himself up on a pillow beside her. He pulled her up tight against his chest, smoking quietly for several moments. She lay next to him, her head tucked against his shoulder, waiting for him to speak.

  He took a last drag off his cigarette, then reached in his case for another and lit it off the end of the first. He took several drags. When he finally spoke his voice was soft, halting.

  “Christ, Elena, there are at least forty girls, maybe fifty.”

  He shook his head.

  “The oldest ones can’t be more than sixteen years old. Most of them are ten or eleven.”

  Elena gasped. She trembled and her voice shook.

  “Oh, my God, Bai. Dear God.”

  He continued in a flat monotone.

  “We brought the girls back here. They’re in the infirmary. Many of them are badly hurt.”

  “Oh, Bai, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, darling.”

  She sat up and kissed him, then held him tight to her. She was silent, struggling to comprehend the horror of what he was saying.

  After several minutes, she took a deep breath and asked,

  “What did you do…to them? To the bad men?”

  There was a long silence.

  “I killed them.”

  “Who?”

  “All of them…I burned them up.”

  ~~

  Chapter 8

  Alex sprawled on his bed, unsuccessfully trying to find a position that didn’t send shockwaves of pain ricocheting through his body. Every breath was torture. Instead of getting better with time, the pain was getting worse. He heard the door open and looked up to see the shadow of a large man approaching. He saw the glow of his cigarette and knew before he spoke it was his father.

  Wyatt lit the lamp on the side of his bed and said in a gruff voice, “Move over, Son. Let me take a look at you.”

  Wyatt was a famed horse whisperer and all of his life Alex watched his father treat injured horses and wounded men alike. The Wyoming folklore, well known across the West, was that if Wyatt McManus couldn’t heal a man or a horse, you may as well save time and start digging their graves.

  Alex stuffed down his cries as his father’s strong knowledgeable hands roamed over his battered body, as though he was following a map to a treasure trove of injuries. After he felt every bone, bruise and cut, Wyatt leaned over and opened the bag of supplies he brought with him. Pouring a large glass of whiskey, he helped Alex to a sitting position and handed him the glass.

  “You better drink this down fast, Son. Then start chugging on another one. This is going to take me a while and if you think you hurt now, you won’t believe what making you better is gonna feel like.”

  For the next half hour, Alex did his best to hold back his groans and whimpers as his father poked, prodded and began to clean and bandage the bruises and scrapes covering his body. When he hit a particularly sore place and Alex couldn’t hold back a tortured cry, Wyatt nodded in acknowledgment but resolutely continued his ministrations. Alex saw the grimace on his father’s face and knew that he was being as gentle as he could, but when he got to his ribs, Wyatt muttered under his breath that this was going to hurt like hell, and hurt it did. Alex was determined not to cry out, but it was useless. He uttered a low hard groan as Wyatt snapped the cracked ribs back in place and wrapped bandages tight around his chest. Ignoring the tears Alex couldn’t hold back, Wyatt finished wrapping his sprained ankle and twisted knee, then poured himself a glass of whiskey and offered to refill Alex’s glass. Alex nodded. He peered up at his father’s stern face and spoke for the first time.

  “How did you know I was hurt, Father?”

  “Bai stopped by my chambers to say good night. He mentioned that I might want to look in on you.”

  Alex was silent, He didn’t know if he was angry or embarrassed that Bai had let his father know that he had beaten him. He thought with a grimace that he probably should be grateful. He took several more sips of whiskey, appreciating its numbing fingers easing away some of his pain.

  “Have you seen him fight, Father?”

  “Yeah, Alex, I have.”

  “Does he always kill his opponents?”

  “I’ve never seen or heard of any he left alive. Given what he does to them, I imagine they’d think dying was a blessing.”

>   “Why did you let me fight him if you knew that, Father?”

  Wyatt snorted, “Would you have listened to me, Alex?”

  Alex grimaced and was quiet for a moment.

  “Why didn’t he just kill me?”

  “Because you’re Elena’s brother, my son, and Wan’s grandson.”

  “That’s what he said, Father.”

  Wyatt took a drag off his cigarette. He blew the smoke up in the air and studied Alex through half closed eyes. His expression was grim.

  “Knowing Bai as I do, I’m damned sure that’s a one time warning, Son. Don’t tempt that tiger, Alex. I know from my own experience, we grandmasters don’t make idle threats.”

  ~~~

  The next morning, Alex ignored the firm knock on the door to his chambers. When he didn’t answer, the next knock was louder, more persistent.

  Alex called out in a raspy voice from behind the closed door, “Who is it?”

  “It’s me, Alex. I came to accompany you to breakfast.”

  Alex opened the door to see Wan standing in the doorway.

  “I’m not hungry, Grandfather. I’m not going to breakfast.”

  Wan gave him a hard stare, looking at the dark circles under his eyes that Alex couldn’t hide and the agonized movements of his body.

  Wan said in a firm voice, “It is unimportant if you are hungry or not, Alex. What is important is that you show your face. You are, after all, my first grandson, correct?”

  Alex stood in the doorway, then looked away, his anger rising, seeing that his grandfather also knew about his fight with Bai.

  “So he told you, too, Grandfather? Did he tell everyone? Is it all over the compound that I got the shit beat out of me?”

  “To my knowledge, Bai has told no one, except I assume, your father and Elena. As for how I know that you and Bai fought last night, you made it clear that you would not be satisfied until you fought him. Because I know how Bai fights, I don’t have to ask if you were badly beaten. I’m frankly surprised and grateful to him that you are able to walk.”

  Alex grunted.

  “Oh, great. I am supposed to be thankful that he didn’t kill me, that he just beat me so bad, I can barely move?”

  “As I said, Alex, I am both surprised and grateful that you are on your feet. Now, please put on your jacket. It will mask the bandages around what I presume are your cracked ribs. I’ll wait for you by the fountain.”

  With that, he turned away and stood at the corner, waiting for Alex to join him. Seeing that he had no choice but to go with his grandfather, Alex managed to get his jacket on, pushing down the nausea he felt when he tugged at the bandages on his throbbing ribs. He went to where his grandfather was waiting for him. Together they walked to the family dining room.

  Wyatt, Lei, and the boys were already at the table. Wyatt looked up and nodded to them both when they came in then turned back to referee the argument Gabriel and Jacob were having as to who could run faster.

  Lei pointed to the chair next to her. In a voice that didn’t brook a refusal, she said, “Sit here, Alex.”

  When he sat down beside her, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek and said, “We will talk later.”

  At that moment, he heard Bai’s soft accented voice and Elena’s luscious laughter in the courtyard. Bai had his arm around her shoulders when they walked in. Elena was ogling him, her eyes dancing.

  Wyatt and Wan stood up to greet them when they entered. Alex kept his seat, more out of discomfort than rudeness.

  ~~~

  Bai stood in the doorway, bowed slightly, then taking in all those present in one quick glance, said, “Good morning, everyone.”

  Elena walked up behind Alex and put her arms around his neck. She whispered to him, “I love you, Alex. We’ll talk after breakfast.”

  Alex tried to push her away, but when she continued to hold him, he put his hands over hers and held them. Staring down at the table, he blinked back the tears in his eyes.

  Bai waited behind her and when she let go of Alex, he walked Elena to her place and pulled out her chair and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. When he passed by Lei, he leaned down and kissed her, as well. He looked at Alex and seeing his flushed, strained face and downcast eyes, he moved by without speaking. He met Wyatt’s eyes and exchanged a nod with his father, then went to sit at the head of the table.

  The boys looked up just long enough to say good morning to him and Elena, then Gabriel and Jacob went back to teasing Deshi about dancing with Mariel Peters. The more Deshi blushed, the more insistent the younger boys became.

  “You know you like her, Deshi. Don’t deny it. We counted. You danced with her four times,” insisted Michael.

  Bai took in the young man on the brink of manhood. He remembered the battered three year old boy he had carried in his arms back to Wyatt and Lei. The young child had been kidnapped by evil men intent on stopping Wyatt’s race to the governorship. Bai had killed four men in the rescue, vaulting up the ranks of the Sing Leon and earning Wyatt’s undying gratitude.

  Deshi had been the most beautiful child Bai had ever seen. Everyone who saw him raved about him. He had his parents’ black hair, Lei’s golden skin, and Wyatt’s incongruous blue eyes. He was as beautiful as Lei when he was a child, but as he grew to manhood, Wyatt’s rugged good looks kicked in and ensured that Nicolas Deshi would be as stunningly handsome as his father.

  Bai grinned at his nephew and came to his rescue.

  “That’s not all bad, Deshi. I’m pleased that you know how to dance. If Mariel is that pretty blond girl I’ve seen hanging around the stable trying to get your attention, that is even better.”

  Deshi glanced up and confirmed Bai’s assumption with a shy nod.

  “Yeah, but I think he kissed her!” Gabe said. “You saw him didn’t you, Jacob?”

  Deshi blushed when Jacob nodded vigorously confirming he had seen the dastardly deed.

  “That’s not true.” Deshi insisted weakly. “I took her outside to show her the kung fu center.”

  “Yeah and when you were outside, you kissed her,” Gabriel taunted.

  Lei stepped in and said, “All right, boys. That’s enough. Does anyone have anything to contribute to this conversation that doesn’t involve what Deshi did or did not do with an attractive young woman?”

  She smiled at Deshi and winked when he grinned back at her, obviously grateful for his mother’s intervention and understanding of the delicate situation.

  Jacob looked up and said in a serious voice looking over at Elena, “Well, Tobias said his mama thinks you are a bad girl, Elena. She said your dance was a bad girl dance.”

  All the adults looked at him startled. Bai had just taken a sip of tea and choked on it. The other adults reacted similarly, either chortling or starting in surprise.

  Bai regained his composure and with a twinkle in his eyes, wiped his lips with his napkin and said, “Hmm, Tobias said that, did he?”

  Jacob looked at all the adults smiling or grinning outright, as in the case of his father and Bai. His face flushed bright red and angry tears flooded his eyes.

  He insisted, “No, really. He did say that, he did! He said his mama said that Elena is a very naughty girl, that she danced a naughty dance and that nice girls don’t dance like that!”

  Elena flushed, but couldn’t hide her smile.

  Seeing Jacob’s upset, Bai said as seriously as he could, “Well Jacob, let me say this. You can tell Tobias and especially Tobias’s mother, that she is absolutely correct. Elena is une très mauvaise petite fille, une méchante fille,” he said in ribald French, indicating that Elena was indeed a bad little girl, a naughty girl.

  Elena flushed when she saw Alex clench his teeth and said, “Bai stop it. Jacob doesn’t understand that you are teasing me.”

  But Wyatt, Wan, and Lei who all spoke French, couldn’t hide their amusement. Wyatt grinned at Bai and shook his head and Wan allowed the glimmer of a smile to cross his face.

  Jacob s
aid “What does that mean? What did you say, Uncle Bai? You know I don’t understand French.”

  Bai said, “That’s quite all right, Jacob. I said that Elena is a lovely young woman and I love her exactly the way she is.” He added under his breath with a twinkle in his eye, “Le vilain, le meilleur. The naughtier, the better.”

  “You might also suggest that Tobias ask his father his opinion of Elena’s dancing,” he said with a grin. “It might not square with his mother’s.”

  Elena shot him a warning glare just as Nianzu came to the door.

  Nianzu excused himself to the others at the table and said, “I need to speak with you, Bai.”

  Bai was still grinning from the Tobias conversation, but with a wink at Elena, he folded his napkin and excused himself. He and Nianzu stood outside the doorway and talked quietly for several minutes.

  Bai came back to the table and gave Wyatt and Wan a meaningful nod.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt our breakfast, but it seems as though we have visitors. Sheriff Thompson and the Lt. Governor Quince are here, among others. I’ve asked Nianzu to show them to my office.”

  Before he finished speaking, both Wyatt and Wan moved to the door.

  Bai caught Elena’s eye and said, “Elena, please stay here with Lei and the boys. At least for the next while, all of you stay in the family quarters. Don’t go outside and don’t go near the infirmary. Quitin and Manzu are at the door and will escort you back to your chambers when you finish breakfast.”

  Elena and Lei both nodded their understanding.

  As the men started to leave the room, Bai said, “Why don’t you join us, Alex?”

  Lei reached over and gave him a little push.

  “Go, Alex, go with them.”

  Alex looked down and shook his head, but his father came up beside him and said, “Let’s go, Son. I want you to come with us.”

  Alex rose reluctantly, then along with Wyatt and Wan went with Bai to meet with their guests.

  ~~

  Chapter 9

  Nianzu returned to the group of men who were waiting in the courtyard. He spoke to Sheriff Thompson.

 

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