Swamp Kings 1 (Bayou Bishops #18)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Lyric was literally trembling as she went through the motions of feeling normal. Just cooking egg sandwiches in Mr. Nidev’s kitchen at ten o’clock at night. Nothing to see here. What was going on? With him? And her? And them? There was something happening, but she wasn’t about to read into anything after that horrifically embarrassing crush confession.

Did you?

She dropped the spatula on the floor. “Shit,” she gasped, snatching it up and hurrying to the sink while listening to the shower going. God, him in the shower. She was melting. Not once had she been interested in him in the last four years and in the span of thirty minutes she was ready to jump him. Damn his cryptic ways. He was so good at reading everybody and hiding himself. He needed help with his dilemma. How, exactly? If he asked her to help him learn how to date or some dumb crap, she’d die. Again.

She scooped the perfect eggs out of the pan and gingerly set each one on the prepared bread slices. The shower shut off and blasted her panic through her blood. Just be normal. It’s a normal meeting, just like all the ones before. She’d even eaten there before which meant she was likely overreading everything.

“I think they came out great,” she called, looking for glasses in the cabinet and grabbing two. “I hope you like the yoke runny,” she added, ripping two paper towels from the role.

“I love my yoke runny.”

She spun around then spun right back to the counter with wide eyes. “Well good then.” He had no shirt on. Oh dear God. She turned with his plate and handed it to him. “Would you like a drink?” She turned to the fridge and opened it. His skin was still wet. His muscles were godlike. And he smelled like a forest raped by a violent thunderstorm. She’d only seen him without a shirt once at the pool by accident. That one accident had accompanied many of her orgasms.

“Looking for something specific?”

Her cheeks went up in flames as she snatched the juice. “Right in my face,” she said, shutting it.

“Mmm, this is perfect,” he said as she forced herself not to hurry and look as nervous as she was.

“So about your dilemma,” she said, needing to jump right into a topic she could zero in on. She sat at the only other chair across from his at the small island, focusing on her plate and purpose.

“Yes. I need a savior,” he said, his voice a low rumble through her body. “Mmmm, you’re good at this.”

She couldn’t take hearing him make those noises. And if she were being normal, she’d have no problem looking at him. “Glad you like it,” she said, forcing her head up. “I have a lot of practice with eggs. It’s all we ate growing up.” She hurried back to staring at her plate, wondering how she was supposed to eat and not get sick. And how was he so calm? Because he wasn’t interested. As usual. Focus on the problem. Which was another problem! It involved the lust. He’d been vague about that part. Maybe it was just like… temptations of some kind. How would she advise without knowing these particulars? How would she ask? Treat it like he is. Like it’s nothing.

“So, I realized,” she said casually while covering her mouth with a hand, working on her bite. “I might need specifics about that issue you have if I’m going to actually help you figure something out.”

“Which issue?”

Yep. Oblivious. This was nothing to him. “The uh, bite issue. The part that doesn’t triple your gifts.”

“The lust.”

Lust. “That’s a… pretty specific word.” And damn dirty .

“But extremely accurate,” he said, sliding his plate to the side.

Oh crap he was done? She wasn’t going to eat while he watched. “You know what, I’m not good at talking and eating,” she confessed, sliding her plate over as well then crossing her hands on the counter. “So, this lust,” she hurried, forcing her gaze to his because that’s what an unbothered helpful student did. “Can you describe it? Break it down to me clean. Second grade level.” Hold his stare, hold it, do not break eye contact.

She nearly gasped in relief when he crossed his arms on the counter and angled his head off to the right. “It starts as a spark. Deep inside.” He brought his gaze to hers and dear God she was trapped in it. “It’s sharp and electric, but quickly spreads through my veins like liquid fire. The moment I’m around a woman, that spark surges, transforming into a blaze. Every glance, every breath she takes, fuels the fire until it becomes a relentless inferno. My senses sharpen—the smell of her skin, the sound of her voice, the way she moves—everything intensifies, pushing the heat higher and higher. And this firestorm in my body doesn’t just burn, it demands release, building with every second until it feels like it’ll tear me apart from the inside. It forces me into a dark hole where I have to release it. But the reprieve is fleeting. Just long enough to catch my breath before the smoldering begins again, waiting to ignite once more.”

She snapped her mouth shut realizing he was done. Her eyelids fluttered with the effort to pull herself out of the flames he’d dragged her through. “Wow,” she gasped, reaching for her juice, staring at the cup for several disturbed seconds. She realized it wasn’t just arousal flooding her body but… jealousy. He said all that about what he experienced around women so easily. Like he experienced none of that with her at all. “For one, you surely can’t be doing this sort of thing with every woman.”

“Doing? Did you not hear anything I just said?”

She needed air and a reason to get away from his sudden direct, hot stare. She downed her juice and brought her glass to the sink. Her hands shook as she turned on the water and rinsed her dish, needing some of that on her face. And body. She suddenly froze. Had he… released in the shower?

Visions of him jacking off caused her to drop the glass. “Shit.”

“Tell me, Lyric. Which woman should I be doing these things with?”

She shut the water off. “Obviously I don’t know that.” She ripped a paper towel from the roll and dried her hands. Still shaking. She glanced back at him on the stool, stealing a look at his magnificent body in those black flannel pants. His back was also covered in tattoos. “Is there a woman at the school you have any interest in at all that you would consider for…”

“Using her to appease my lust demon? Because that’s all I want to do. I don’t want to marry. I just want to feed this until I can get rid of it, even while knowing I’ll die trying to keep it.”

The weight of his dilemma gave her enough courage to return to her seat. “You just need to find somebody who understands what’s happening. But I’m afraid you won’t be able to use any woman in such a way. It’s not right.”

“I know that,” he admitted too easily. “And still, I want it.”

She got caught in his intense gaze, realizing what his nonchalance meant. It meant he might be experiencing those lust symptoms with her. Was he burning, wanting… things with her? “Are you… okay?”

Dumb question. He was clearly not okay. But he confirmed it with a slow shake of his head. It should’ve terrified her, but she felt more electrified at what was happening than scared. What she hoped was happening.

She took a couple of steadying breaths. “Do you… need me to leave?”

He stared so hard at her she couldn’t breathe. His gaze finally slid down to the counter. “No,” he finally said .

She’d never seen him in such a condition. The leader, trapped with nobody to turn to. “I want to help you, but… I don’t know how,” she confessed, breathless.

Another agonizing span of silence passed. “I just… have one question for you.”

Oh dear God. What question? “Okay.”

He slowly raised his gaze, and she fought to remain perfectly still. “What kind of pleasure did you need so much, that you ended your arrangement when you didn’t get it?”

Oh Jesus. Mouth bobbings began. “I can’t… I can’t say it.”

“Is it something a man would do to you?”

She swallowed and barely managed a nod.

“He does it with part of his body?”

Oh double Jesus he was going to narrow it down!

Just answer him. It was a sex class, practically. Academics.

Another nod.

“With his hand?”

She closed her eyes, panting on shallow breaths as she shook her head, the silence dragging her through an awkward shame.

“His cock?”

Her gasp flew out at the hot way he said that word. Again, she shook her head, unable to open her eyes now, ready to get to the end of whatever was happening.

“His lips and tongue,” he stated in a soft hunger. “On your pussy.”

Oh my God. She was dizzy. Was she falling? The room was falling.

“Is that it?”

She forced a nod as her heart hammered against her chest bone.

“Thank you,” he barely said.

The sound of the fridge startled her, and she opened her eyes to him grabbing a water. She quietly inhaled and exhaled three measured breaths, eyeing his massive body while she sat locked up and frozen on that stool. He turned and drank the water, his throat muscles contracting as he sucked on the bottle ‘til it was all gone. Then he looked at her.

“Seems like talking about it to you has somehow helped it.” He walked to the trash and tossed the water bottle into the recycle bin. “Do you think you might be willing to provide more of that?”

Holy crap.

“H-here?” she asked, not meaning to gasp it so loudly.

“We can try it on the phone. I’m willing to pay you any sum of money.” He returned to the island, his direct, intense gaze crippling her mind. “Please don’t take that the wrong way. I’m just… desperate. ”

Oh mercy, that was some kind of admission for him. She remembered who she was talking to. The man who would do anything to help her and always had. “Of course I will,” she said, clearing the crack from her voice. “I’m sorry you’re going through this,” she thought to say. “It sounds… truly horrific.”

He angled his head at her. “I wish it was horrific. I gave you the dark side of this lust. You should hear the other side of it.” She was riveted again as he took a seat and locked his gaze on her. She wasn’t going to survive this. “That spark I mentioned?” he began, ready or not. “That surge of energy that lights up every part of me, filling my veins with fire? It’s fucking exhilarating.” Holy shit, he cussed. He never cussed. “It’s sharp as a razor, vibrant with insanity. It’s so painfully good I want to be devoured and obliterated by it . And when I finally let it come, this monster of fire tears through me, shreds every nerve in my body with a savage ecstasy. And I… revel in the obliteration,” he whispered. “I crave the aftermath of this twisted, fucked up massacre of my humanity. I know you can’t truly understand it and part of me is so very sorry for you while another part of me, a part growing smaller every day, is so very relieved that you have no. Real. Clue.”