Biding His Thyme: 4

by Shelley Munro

  “Ready?” His brows rose.

  “Yes.” Not a scrap of hesitation.

  He ran his cock up and down her folds, teasing them both before lining up at her entrance. “This might hurt because it’s been so long.”

  He pushed inside and she felt growing pressure. A quick nip of pain entered the equation, and she attempted to move away.

  Jake kissed her again, splitting her concentration, all the while pushing deeper. She groaned, but the pressure gave way to mere discomfort. He growled, withdrew a fraction before surging inside her. Once he was embedded, he paused.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t like hurting you.”

  She realized the sting was fleeting, and it wasn’t unbearable.

  He pulled back and the sense of fullness faded. “Wrap your arms around my neck,” he said.

  She did as he requested, trying not to wince when he surged into her again. She bit her bottom lip, hot tears stinging her eyes. This was it? It was nice being held and she’d enjoyed it when he’d used his mouth and tongue on her, but this part she could take or leave.

  “God,” he muttered. “I’m sorry I’m hurrying things. It will get better. I promise.”

  She nodded. At least it wasn’t hurting anymore.

  He kept thrusting and retreating, his breath harsh against her ear. For some reason, he changed the angle of his strokes. Her breath caught halfway up her throat. That was better. Much better.

  “That’s it,” he said, the tendons in his neck straining. He went faster, his mouth sucking at the base of her neck. The faint play of his teeth should have brought pain. It didn’t. Instead pleasure flared to life again, like an ember catching a draft. She clutched his shoulders, hanging on, instinctively matching his movements with her own. Like a dance, she decided before the thought waltzed away and she concentrated on the good feelings.

  He groaned, did three hard strokes into her body and stilled.

  “Holy shit,” he muttered.

  After a while, he shifted, withdrawing from her. Unaccountably, she felt a flash of disappointment, the brightness of the sensations rippling through her, fading now that he’d ceased moving inside her.

  He removed the condom, placing it inside a plastic bag. “Alice said they’d duplicated your cream and to try this on you.” He pulled out a plain bottle and tipped some of the contents on his palm. He stroked the cream along her folds, around her clitoris.

  Familiar sensations tore through her, rich and full, like pleasure magnified, but the scent wasn’t right. Not that the lack of scent made a difference to the reaction of her body. She gasped, her hips jerking. She arched upward, desperate for a firmer stroke of his fingers. “More,” she demanded. “Harder.”

  He did as she asked and seconds later she swore she saw stars behind her tightly squeezed eyes. Tendrils of pleasure were still rippling through her when she opened them again to stare up at Jake.

  “Wow,” he said. “Your cream works like a charm.”

  Chapter Seven

  Excitement bubbled through Sorrel for the rest of the day, even though she tried to restrain her feel-good mood. Her cream had always brought her pleasure when she tested it, but she’d never felt as if she was flying out of her skin. She pondered the difference for an instant, her brow furrowing in a frown. She’d never tested the cream with a man. Yes, that must be it. Her gaze slid to Jake who was pressing bath bomb mix into round molds.

  In contrast, he’d become downright surly, making her worry. Hadn’t he enjoyed the sex between them? He glanced up to capture her gaze, his brown eyes stormy with his emotions. “Brother Rick will watch you if you attend the gathering tonight. What if he decides he wants to fuck you?”

  “No, that’s one thing I’m not worried about. One of the tenets of Children of Nature, a fundamental one, is that sex must be freely offered. If I say no he has to accept my decision.”

  “And what if he pushes the point? He makes his own rules.”

  “Won’t you fight for my honor?” She shot for humor, the attempt falling pancake-flat. Jake’s glower didn’t shift.

  “Promise me if I’m not around you’ll make sure you’re with one of the other women. Don’t let Brother Rick get you alone.”

  “I promise.” She set her wooden spoon down and went to him, lifting her hand to cup his cheek. “Don’t worry. Maybe you could give me some lessons in self-defense. Just in case.”

  “Kick him in the balls, and if you can’t do that, stomp on his feet. Gouge his eyes and use your elbows. Scream, and don’t stop struggling,” he said fiercely. “And if they overpower you, concentrate on surviving. I’ll come for you.”

  Sorrel chuckled even as she shivered in reaction to his insistent manner. “I think our bigger problem is me getting pregnant. You can’t use a purple condom in the communal hall. Someone will notice.”

  “I know,” he said glumly. “I doubt I’ll be able to pull out before I come either. No, wait. We’ll keep our robes on, pretend we’re impatient to get to the deed and fake it. You can’t get naked and let anyone see your breasts anyway.”

  “I know.” She was playing a dangerous game, and she’d been lucky to escape detection thus far.

  * * * * *

  There was an air of celebration at dinner. Beef again, Jake noted. Brother Rick and his cronies had arrived back at the compound about ten minutes before dinner in high spirits. They’d unloaded boxes from the back of the truck and stored them in Brother Rick’s accommodation before strutting into the dining hall.

  Jake intended to check out the mystery boxes. He waited until they’d settled at a table with their dinners, before leaving the line.

  “Call of nature,” he said to Sorrel. “Will you get me a plate?”

  She nodded, and he limped outside.

  Brother Rick’s quarters were away from the main buildings, and the door was locked—a flimsy one, but still a deterrent. Jake slipped a knife from the strap around his thigh and made quick work of the lock. With a glance over his shoulder, he slipped inside, pulling the door shut after him.

  He found the boxes stacked in the smaller of the two bedrooms. They were sealed, but he didn’t hesitate, cutting the seal to find bags of colored pills. His breath emerged in a soundless whistle as he picked up a packet to study. Shit, party pills. After several deaths, the New Zealand government had recently outlawed the pills, popular for their natural high.

  A sense of satisfaction filled him as he slipped a packet into his pocket and repacked the box, restacking them so the box he’d opened was at the bottom of the pile. At the door, he paused to make sure the way was clear. He relocked the door and after replacing his knife, sprinted across the open ground of the compound to the ablutions block, slowing when he neared his destination.

  He wished he had time to contact Luke, but it’d have to wait. He’d been gone for too long already.

  When he neared the communal dining room, the roar of a male voice had him breaking into a run again. He burst through the doors, lungs burning with the abrupt physical exertion.

  Half a step inside the door, he remembered his limp and lurched, the sudden uneven gait throwing off his balance. He crashed into an empty chair and sent it flying. Everyone looked in his direction, some sniggering at his clumsiness. He had no trouble pretending embarrassment as he straightened.

  Frantically, he sought Sorrel. He located her on the other side of the dining hall, two plates of food at her feet. Brother Rick stood in front of her, a sneer twisting his face. He ignored Jake’s entrance, his gaze fixed on Sorrel.

  “You’re a pig, Sister Bitter. It’s no wonder you’re getting fatter all the time. Did you break your fast this morning?”

  Anger filled Jake as he made a show of limping over to join them.

  “Yes, I broke my fast.” Sorrel had reverted to her subservient behavior, her gaze on her sandals, her voice barely audible.

  “Then why are you eating a meal tonight? I believe I instructed you to eat once a day. Can you coun
t?”

  “Yes,” she said, her voice so low that Jake barely heard her.

  “Then why do you have two plates of food?”

  “I asked Sister Sorrel to get my meal for me.” Jake’s fists bunched and released. Seconds later, he bunched them again because the urge to hit Brother Rick was like a bomb ticking inside him. “I had to go to the ablution block.”

  “Her name is Sister Bitter, and she still shouldn’t have had two plates of food.”

  “Maybe I have a big appetite,” Jake said.

  “I’m not stupid.”

  As much as Jake wanted to snap a smartass reply, he didn’t. Instead he sucked in a hasty breath, ordering his thoughts. He focused on Sorrel. “Clean up the mess and get me another plate of food.” She flinched at his tone, and Jake felt like a monster. Hell, Brother Rick wasn’t fit to lick her shoes. While he understood she didn’t have any money and found it difficult to leave, he didn’t know why she’d take this constant abuse. He turned away before he gave into the impulse to flatten Brother Rick’s pointy nose and limped over to a table with four free chairs.

  The men and women sitting around the table stared at him in reproach, making him feel as if he’d kicked a puppy. His gut churned while he waited for Sorrel to join him. God, he wanted to go and help her, but instead he sat there—the dominant male.

  Ten minutes later she set a plate of roast beef in front of him. She pulled out the seat beside him and sat, her head bowed. The noise in the dining hall increased, and the occupants started to talk again. Tonight they were louder than normal, excited about the coming gathering.

  Jake was no longer hungry. He took a bite of roast beef, but it tasted like dirt in his mouth. A loud grumble sounded, and his mouth firmed to a scowl. He tossed his knife and fork down and shoved his plate away.

  Sorrel flinched at the abrupt sound, and the chatter at their table faded. Jake stood. “Come,” he barked and he limped from the dining hall without glancing over his shoulder to see if she followed him.

  “Wait,” Brother Rick’s voice boomed across the room. Silence descended, and the prickle of gazes skimmed his back.

  Slowly Jake turned. “I am not feeling well,” he said. “I am going to the restroom and to my quarters.”

  “Sister Bitter can stay here.”

  Arsehole. “I require someone to look after me,” Jake said. “If I am coming down with something it is better for her to tend me to limit the spread of sickness.”

  Luckily the man saw the benefit of Jake’s words. “Of course,” he said. “You may go and you have leave to be absent from the gathering tonight.”

  “Thank you,” Jake said, fighting the urge to sprint across the room and thump the man into next week. Instead he hobbled from the hall, out into the fresh air with Sorrel shuffling two steps behind him.

  The days were becoming shorter and the sun had already dropped below the skyline. He trudged across the compound toward the ablution block.

  “Jake? Are you all right?”

  “Wait for me at your workshop,” he said, somehow managing to keep his voice even. “I won’t be long.”

  Maybe this would work better. With everyone attending the gathering he could sneak out of the compound and go to see Luke with the evidence. A phone would have come in handy right now, but they’d decided not to risk him taking one onto the compound. As it was he suspected someone had rifled through his duffle bag.

  Jake made himself stay in the ablution block for ten minutes. He flushed the toilet and after washing his hands and face, he headed for Sorrel’s workshop.

  He gave a brief tap on the door. “It’s Jake.”

  The door opened and Sorrel stood there, her eyes red as if she’d been crying.

  “Aw, sweetheart,” he said and he tugged her into his arms, holding her quivering body.

  “I try not to let him get to me, but sometimes it’s hard.”

  “If you want I can get you out tonight.” She pulled back, and he shut the door before turning his attention on her again. “What do you think?”

  “I’m not going until I get my mother’s books.”

  “So we get the books, and we leave,” he said. “Damn, I should’ve searched for them earlier when I was in Brother Rick’s quarters.”

  “The books were with Brother Samuel’s things since my mother spent most of her time with him. Brother Rick asked the women to clean out Brother Samuel’s quarters before he moved in. The books are either in his quarters or perhaps in his office. Or they might have packed them away in boxes.”

  “Damn, it will take a while to find your books. Are you sure they weren’t destroyed?”

  “I doubt it. Books are luxuries. He’s most likely shoved them on a shelf somewhere. Jake, tonight isn’t a good time for searching. Although the gathering takes place in the communal hall, remember this time the brothers and sisters will move outside and find other places for privacy once the formalities are completed.”

  His brows shot up. “Formalities?”

  “Um, I don’t know what else to call them,” she said.

  “Then we’ll have to search another night—the next time Brother Rick leaves the compound.”

  “There is never a right time,” she said with a trace of frustration. “He’s either in his quarters or I’m busy with work.”

  Jake pulled her into his arms again and held her. He felt protective as he slid his hand over her back. He couldn’t feel the push of her breasts now. Instead her stomach nudged him, getting in the way. Damn it. He couldn’t wait to have her slender body pressed next to his again. “I’m staying here tonight.”

  “What if they ask questions?”

  A whoop of sound carried across the compound.

  “I’ll tell them it was too noisy up there. Everyone is much louder than normal.”

  “Yes.” Sorrel frowned. “They were during the last gathering too. I suspect Brother Rick added something extra stimulating to the celebratory punch everyone was drinking.”

  Sorrel’s stomach let out a rumble, and Jake’s arms tightened on her shoulders.

  “I’ll ask Alice if she can get us some food next time I see her. I don’t want you to lose any more weight.”

  “Thank you.”

  Her gratitude made him want to snarl. Not her fault. “At least we won’t need to worry about birth control.” He nuzzled her neck and nibbled on her earlobe. “We won’t attract any attention here.”

  “It’s not very late yet,” Sorrel said. “I might as well make a batch of bath bombs. I’m going to try a new scent combination. I thought of it while Brother Rick was shouting at me.”

  “Good for you,” Jake said.

  “Make up the pallet. In case Brother Rick sends someone to check on you.”

  Jake nodded, seeing the sense in her suggestion.

  They worked together measuring and chopping herbs to add to the bath bombs. Lavender, thyme and mint. The scents swirled in the air, both soothing and familiar to him now.

  Voices outside made them both freeze.

  “Sister Bitter might know where he is,” a man said.

  A knock sounded on the door, but Jake was already on the pallet and pulling a blanket over him.

  Sorrel glanced at him before opening the door.

  “Have you seen Brother Jake? Brother Rick was worried and wanted us to check on him.”

  “He’s resting down here,” Sorrel said, indicating the pallet they’d set up on the far side of her workshop. “The noise was bothering him, and I thought it would be a little quieter down here.”

  Two men—he thought it was Brother John and Brother Tyrone—stepped inside the workshop and peered at him.

  “How are you feeling?” Brother John asked.

  “A bit better,” Jake said. “I vomited up the little food I ate at dinner, but my stomach is still churning.”

  They both backed up and exchanged glances.

  “You really are sick?” Brother Tyrone asked.

  “Of course he’s ill
,” Sorrel said. “Can’t you tell by his face? It’s flushed and he seems to be sweating a lot.” She nibbled on her bottom lip, uncertainty in her expression. “I think it’s one of these quick-acting things. I could be wrong of course.”

  “Maybe we should take him to the infirmary,” Brother Tyrone said.

  “I hate to upset everyone’s night,” Sorrel said. “It’s a celebration. I’m happy to look after him tonight. If he hasn’t improved by the morning, I’ll get someone to help me take him to the infirmary and Sister Agnes’ care.”

  Brother John nodded. “That’s a good idea. I’m sure Brother Rick will approve.”

  The two men backed from the workshop, and Sorrel shut the door. They both waited until they could no longer hear the brothers’ voices.

  “Do you think they’ll come again?” Jake asked.

  “I’m not sure. Maybe you should stay there.”

  “I—”

  The workshop door flew open and Brother Rick stood in the doorway with his two friends standing behind him. Brother Rick surveyed the room, the suspicion fading from his face when he saw Jake lying on the pallet.

  “Do you think his illness is contagious?” he asked Sorrel.

  Sorrel didn’t meet Brother Rick’s gaze. It made anger curl through Jake. His entire body stiffened, muscles coiling ready to spring if Brother Rick made a wrong move.

  “I don’t feel sick,” Sorrel said.

  Brother Rick gave a curt nod. “If he gets worse call Sister Agnes.”

  “I will.” Once again Sorrel spoke to her feet.

  Brother Rick strode away without bothering to close the door. From his position on the pallet, Jake couldn’t see where they went, so he remained in place.

  “They’ve gone back to the communal hall.” Sorrel stepped around the counter to shut the door. With the door safely shut, Jake clambered to his feet and joined her.

  “I’ll wait a while and let everyone get settled, then I’ll do some skulking around the compound. I need to talk to Luke, but I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

  “You’re not responsible for my safety,” she said. “Give it another hour, and you’ll be safe enough. I’ll stay here and keep working.”