by Taylor Lee
“And, yes, in answer to your invitation, I will ride with you and Elena. She and I have an agreement that she will not leave the villa without me.”
“Hmm, I see. Let’s go find that beautiful daughter of mine. I think we’ll find her saddling up Zhenqui.”
“I’ll meet you in the barn, Wyatt.”
Wyatt walked out to find Elena. He was thoughtful and troubled. He honored and respected Bai, but was concerned with the conversation they had about trust. Damn, Elena is right. Bai is talking about control, obedience, not trust — although I can understand how he sees it that way. Shit, I know he’s terrified something might happen to her. Damn, after those two incidents, I am, too. But I sure as hell don’t like knowing the dangers of the mission to meet Feng and keeping that from Elena. Maybe Wan can talk with Bai.
He continued to shake his head thinking about Bai’s assertion that Elena wasn’t to leave the villa without him. Hmm, guess not even with me… Christ, I thought I was possessive! He grinned. Good thing Elena is a whisperer. Hell, I taught her how to break a horse when she was seven years old. I can see her horse breaking skills are going to come in handy with this tough stallion. But he loves her, no question about that. And buying that particular horse for her – thirteen breeders… Phew.
Chapter 32
Bai looked up from his desk when he heard the knock to see a blushing Francine in the doorway. “What is it, Francine?”
“Mr. Bai, I am sorry to bother you, but you need to come now.”
She was obviously upset and speaking in rapid French.
“Is something wrong?” He jumped up. “Is it Elena?”
“Yes, Mr. Bai. She sent me for you. She wants you to come immediately.”
“Is she hurt?” Bai’s gut clenched.
“No, no. But upset? Yes!”
Bai heard the arguing from the bathroom when he entered her chambers. He walked to the doorway to see the two young women he had brought from Madam Couchette’s standing at a distance from a very upset Elena. She saw him and rushed over to his side, grabbing hold of his arm.
“Oh, God, Bai. Thank God you are here. You two, please leave immediately. Please go out in the hallway. Now! Francine, for Gods sake, don’t just stand there. Take them out into the garden. Somewhere far away!”
Bai put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.
“Cherie, what is wrong? Francine alarmed me. I thought something dreadful had happened to you.”
Elena was dressed in a silk robe, still damp from her bath. She was flushed, disheveled looking, and, to Bai’s mind, gorgeous!
She threw her arms around his neck.
“Elena, your heart is pounding like a frightened little deer. What is it, ma petite fille?”
“Bai, those women are trying to do terrible things to me. And they said you told them to do it. At least I think that’s what they are saying. My God, I finally was able to make them understand that they needed to go get Francine. At least she speaks English. Those women do not! They only speak French. And… and very fast.”
“Mon dieu, what terrible things are they doing?”
She hesitated. Her face was flushed a rosy pink, her eye were wide with fear. “I… I will tell you in a minute. Oh, fine, I will tell you now. But first, close the door. Come closer. I need to whisper. I don’t want Francine to hear.”
“Elena, what is wrong? You are being silly.”
“Bai, I think those women… they think… they think I am a whore, one of your whores.”
Bai tried not to laugh, but a grin tugged at his mouth and he couldn’t hide the twinkle in his eye. “No, cherie, I am sure they do not.”
“But they work for that Madam – the one you used to see – that you will not be seeing any more.”
“Ah, oui. I believe we had that conversation. And, oui, they do work for Madam Couchette.”
“Bai, I am not one of your whores!”
“No, you are not. I thought we settled that last night? I believe you said that I no longer have whores. If I remember correctly, you said quite firmly, ‘Not any more.’
I agree. I no longer will have whores.”
He grinned. “You are not one of my whores. You are my only one.”
“Bai!!!”
“Elena, stop. It is a compliment. You are my woman. Ma femme. Mi mujer. The woman I love. You are my little girl. Ma petitie fille. But in my bed you are many things and one of them is ma putain; puta in Spanish. Come now, tell me that doesn’t excite you? You are most flushed, Elena. You look beautiful. And so desirable. Look what you have done to me already.” He pointed to his erection, clearly visible in his trousers.
Elena stared at him, looking with interest at the remarkable bulge in his trousers. She took a deep breath then said firmly, “Bai, we will have this putain, puta conversation later. But right now you have to help me. They are trying to do terrible things to me.”
“Like what, ma petite amie? What terrible things are those nice young women doing to you? “
“They bathed me, which was lovely, and put all kinds of wonderful smelling lotions and oils on my body. And look, they did beautiful things to my fingernails and toes. I have had only a few manicures in my life, mostly when Lei and I go into Denver, but I have never had my feet done like this.”
“Why are you upset? You look lovely, cherie.”
“No, Bai, you don’t understand. Before I knew what was happening they were – Oh, God, I am so embarrassed, but they were… shaving me…”
Bai attempted to hide his grin, knowing what a wolf must look like.
“But, cherie, what is wrong with that?”
“You don’t understand. They were shaving my… my… well, see for yourself!” She blushed bright red, and then opened her robe.
“Ah, I do see — most lovely. But, cherie, only one side of you is clean.”
“My God, Bai, did you tell them to do this?”
“Yes, I did. I want to see you, mon amour. All of you. Your beautiful chatte.”
“But with no hair? I look so bare! My God! Is this what you like? What you want me to look like?”
“Yes, Elena. I do.”
She looked like she might cry, but instead looked down and said as though considering the notion.
“Well it is interesting. I’ll give you that. Mmm, well, I guess now that they have started, I will have to let them finish. God, I don’t know if I will ever be able to take my drawers off. I won’t recognize myself. And, for sure, I can never let Francine and Angel help with my bath again. My God, I will be the talk of the kitchen!”
Bai threw back his head and roared. He was laughing so hard that he had to wipe the tears from his eyes.
“But, Bai, wait. I don’t know how to say this. It is worse. You have to help me. They – those women said they wanted to see if I have… if… I have any hairs on my bottom — petite cheveux – I think it means a little hair – on my bottom. And if I do, they want to use these tweezers things on me.”
She was bright red and whispering.
With a great effort, Bai forced himself to look as serious as he could manage under the circumstances.
“Bai, you don’t understand. This is not funny. No one has ever looked at me there. You must tell them they can’t do that. That you don’t want them to.”
“Cherie, it is all right. I will tell them that you are quite bare –denude en tu derriere.”
“Oh, my God. What are you saying? How do you know that? Bai! You have seen me there?”
“Elena, please. You are acting like a child. Of course, I have seen you ‘there.’ Even though we have been together only a short time, cherie, I have spent some wonderful moments, how shall I say it – between your legs.”
“Oh, my God!”
“Elena, listen to me. We are going to make love tonight. I am going to love you belle ma chérie. Look at me. Look what you have done to me. I don’t know if I will be able to go back to my office. I am aroused just looking at you, thinking about
you. And, I will be frank — thinking about what these women are doing to you, to prepare you for me.”
“My God, Bai. I mean… I thought putting the medicine in me was intimate, but, oh, my goodness…”
“Cherie, listen to me. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And I want all of you. To see all of you. To touch all of you. Mm hmm. We agreed, remember? All of my passions, if I remember correctly? Yes?”
Elena looked serious, thoughtful. “Bai, is this how your whores prepare for you?”
“Yes. But remember I no longer have whores. We agreed.”
“Mmm.”
“That is better. Now relax. I will tell these women to finish what they started and not to worry about your rosette sur ton cul, your derrière. I will tell them it is perfect, just as it is.”
“Good God.” She stared at him her eyes wide, astonished, wondering if he had really said something about a rose on her ass. And, of course, how could she ask Francine that one?
“Elena, I know you haven’t seen your father for several days. I need to go to town tomorrow. I’ll be gone most of the day. I hoped we could have this evening together – you and me. Now that Madam Chan’s herbs seem to have done their work, I want to make love to you, my petite amour. Long passionate love. And I want to have dinner with you here before the fire and then… well, and then I want to see if these women did what I asked them to do.”
Seeing her uncertainty, Bai reached out and stroked her cheek.
“Elena, do not be frightened or embarrassed. Although your shyness is sweet. You are lovely, cherie. And I cannot know for sure, of course, but the next time you see Lei, you might inquire…”
“Oh no!” Elena was emphatic. “No, no, I don’t think so, Bai. I think this must be a French thing.”
“Perhaps.” He quirked an eyebrow and shrugged.
“You think this is what my father likes? Oh, my God!”
“I guess you could ask him…”
“My God, Bai!!!”
“No, you are correct, cherie. This is between you and me.”
“And, of course, those women that you brought in to ‘prepare’ me.”
`”Ah, yes, them as well.”
She put her head down and muttered, “And the whole damned kitchen when Angel sees this…”
Bai turned to leave making a mighty effort to put a serious look on his face.
“Bai?”
“Yes, Elena.”
“Would you… will you… ask those women to wait for a little while? I… all that talk about, well… about your making love to me and seeing your… arousal. I think I am ‘wet.’ I don’t want them to know that, do you understand?”
“Ah, cherie. I do not think they would mind. But non, non, it is fine. I understand. You want to be ‘wet’ only for me. Do you think ten minutes will be enough for you to ‘dry’ out?
Her eyes flashed and a small frown creased her forehead.
“No, I think seeing you standing there with that dirty little smirk on your face is drying me quite quickly, thank you. You can send them in now.”
She gave him a shove out the door and with a huff slammed the door behind him.
Elena heard him laughing loudly as he left the chambers. She looked in the mirror and was not surprised to see how flushed she was. Or that she was smiling.
Chapter 33
“Elena, dance for me.”
They were sitting by the fire in front of a colorful array of fruits and vegetables, special pickled shrimps and other seafood in dipping sauces that her grandfather’s Chinese cooks prepared. Bai had requested only food they could eat with their fingers.
Elena was shy when Bai first said, “Non, non. Let me feed you, mon petite amour,” and proceeded to dip a piece of octopus in a spicy sauce and put it in her mouth.
“Are you going to feed me all of my dinner, Bai?”
She was flushed; embarrassed that he was treating her like a child.
“Yes, I am, cherie,” he said using a linen napkin to wipe off a drop of oil that he spilled on her chin. He dipped his fingers in one of the oily sauces and put them in her mouth. “Suck on my fingers, fillette. Do you like this taste?”
She blushed and nodded, stunned that the simple act of sucking sauce from his fingers made her nipples tighten.
“You may feed me as well, cherie. As you must know by now, I am a hungry man.”
Elena smiled shyly then took a piece of crab, dipped it in a sauce and put it in his mouth.
“Cherie, I am messy. Will you lick off my lips? So much nicer than using the napkin, oui?”
When she reached over to lick his lips he took her bottom lip between his teeth and bit down.
“Oh my goodness, Bai. We won’t be able to eat any of this luscious looking food if you keep doing that.”
“You are correct, cherie. I will make an effort to behave. Now you must drink some of this lovely wine. Did you know that your grandfather and I own vineyards in northern California that are becoming well known? We are mimicking some of the growing techniques I observed as a boy in the Bordeaux region of France. The special soil and sunlight in California adds a spiciness to our reds that is quite different from the heavier wines from France. I think you will like this. At some point—not tonight — because I said I would behave, I will drizzle this wine all over your pussy and drink it from your puffy lips.”
Elena gasped. It was obvious there was much to learn from this outrageously sensual man. By the time they finished eating, he had licked spicy sauces from her navel where he had ‘unintentionally’ spilled them, rubbed strawberries around her nipples and sucked off the sweet juice. He had dabbed sauces on her toes and sucked each of them clean, grinning wickedly when she twisted and shrieked at the tickling, outrageously erotic touch.
Most shocking, he had pressed a row of grapes into her slit. Starting at her clit he dug them out with his teeth. One by one, he bit them in half, pressing one half in her mouth, crunching the other half in his.
When he seemed to have satisfied his need for food, he poured them each another glass of wine and stretched out by the fire. Resting on one arm, he lit a cigar and leaned back to smoke it, smiling at her appreciatively.
Elena looked at him lounging by the fire and a rush of desire hit her. God, he was beautiful. His face lit by the glow of the fire was a warm golden color that intensified the amber gold light of his eyes. He was handsome in a refined way, as if an artist was commissioned to draw a man that epitomized what men—fine men, were supposed to look like. But he wasn’t effeminate, not at all. He was simply fine. His tousled thick dark hair framed his chin, accenting his compelling features. His chiseled nose and high cheekbones, his firm jaw were almost perfect. The mix of his Chinese and white features was exotic, intriguing. Only his amber wolf like eyes marred the perfection of his face by adding a subtle hint of danger to his features.
But it was his body that Elena ogled, enraptured. Because she had seen him naked, she knew that under his clothing he was muscled and strong in a lean sinewy way. His thighs were solid muscle, as were his arms. Watching him fight in the saloon, she saw the power of his wiry frame. Tonight he had on a white silk shirt that was unbuttoned almost to his waist, showing the fine black hairs on his chest that trailed down his flat muscled stomach to his groin. The sight made her pussy clench, mostly because it reminded her of his smell—musky, male. He was wearing the black fitted matador-like pants he often wore that Lei said were the height of men’s fashion in Europe. There were four buttons in the front that she knew from experience could be undone one at a time to torment and tease her. And underneath was his gorgeous cock. Even now he had an erection and she knew before long that it would be bursting out, insisting it be free.
He saw her looking at him and smiled at her, a soft predatory smile, through half closed eyes. He puffed on his cigar and took a sip of his wine. That was when he asked her to dance for him.
She was surprised.
“How did you know I dance?�
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“Ah, cherie, I remember the little girl with the fire hair dancing for us under the stars. You twirled and twirled. The more we applauded, the more you twirled. And when you did, your long beautiful curls showered a curtain of red and gold around you. But your body, cherie, was not like it is now. Then you had skinny legs and arms, no bottom and a flat chest. You were just a little skinny girl with red hair and violet blue eyes who loved to dance.
“Everyone adored you. The kung fu students, all of us in the Sing Leon when we came with your grandfather, and, of course, your adoring father. You insisted that we each take a turn dancing with you. Do you remember? You called me Missur Bai because you wanted to say Monsieur, but couldn’t pronounce it. Dance with me, Missur Bai, dance with me.”
“Did you?”
“Mais oui, naturellement. No one could refuse you, Elena. Then or now.”
She smiled at the memory. She could feel and hear the haunting insistent strains of the music course over her.
“Will you dance for me, Elena?”
She smiled and moved to stand in front of him.
He rose from the floor to the chair by the fire. His eyes gleamed. His soft smile was seductive, compelling. He took a sip of wine, leaned back in the chair motioning for her to begin.
She danced shyly at first, slowly swaying her hips from side to side. Her eyes sparkled, the tip of her tongue pressed between her full sensuous lips. Reaching up, she loosened her hair. It fell in a fiery gold cascade around her shoulders and down her back. She smiled softly when she heard his breath hiss, knowing how much he loved her hair –especially when it was wild and free. She heard the wailing throbbing sounds of the Spanish guitars and the clicking castanets of the flamenco dancers in her body as much as she had in her ears. The memory moved her and she twirled — her silken gown skimmed her body and flared at the bottom in a bewitching circle.