Once Upon a Time in Bliss

  “I think he just kicked it in.” Nell seemed very good at stating the obvious.

  Bishop examined the door. Cheap. Thin. Possibly built in the thirties when he would guess the cabin had been built. He stepped inside. The whole place was complete chaos.

  The couch had been slashed, the small coffee table broken. Broken dishes littered the tiny kitchen floor.

  This was an act of pure hate. Someone hated one of the Finn women. The question was which one. He studied the place, trying to keep a cool professional distance, but it was hard. He’d seen violence over and over again, but something about the thought of Nell having to face it with nothing and no one but her mother at her side sparked a certain anger in him. They were two women, one of whom he suspected was very ill, alone in the world.

  He turned and someone had used spray paint to ruin the paneled fireplace.

  Die Bitch

  Not grammatically correct and a bit rude in Bishop’s opinion. Inelegant. The paint was a wretched purple. He’d probably gotten it on sale. Yes. He could figure this out.

  “Do you have any violent ex-boyfriends?” Bishop sifted through the pile of magazines that had spilled from the broken coffee table. Mostly news magazines with a liberal bent, with some arts and crafts manuals sprinkled in. The Finn women were serious-minded. No tabloid rags for them.

  Nell frowned, reaching down to pick up a legal pad. “Callie thought I should keep things the way they are until Rye gets a chance to look at it. I can’t stand the mess.”

  “He’ll need to take some pictures, but you don’t have to be here for that. Could you answer my question?”

  She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “About the boyfriends? No. I don’t have any boyfriends I would imagine could do this. There haven’t been that many, but they were all selected for their beliefs in nonviolence.”

  So she’d dated wimps. It didn’t really surprise him, but it made him wonder if she’d ever had really good sex. Probably not. She probably wore shapeless dresses that she’d chosen for the cruelty-free nature of their fabric. He would be shocked if she’d ever had an orgasm. She’d likely selected her lovers based on their political beliefs and not on whether or not they could make her come. He was damn straight sure he could make her come. “How about your mother?”

  Nell shook her head. “My mother hasn’t had a boyfriend. She claims my father was the only man she could ever love, and he died when I was really young. I often wonder if losing my dad is what caused her to drift into her fantasy world.”

  He wasn’t about to go into all the ways her mother was insane. “Do you have any idea who could have done this? Who have you pissed off lately?”

  She had to have pissed off someone. She’d pissed him off in the very short time he’d known her. She’d also gotten his cock hard, and that meant something to him.

  Her gorgeous lips turned down. “Probably a lot of people. Look, I protest a lot of things. I believe in standing up for what’s right.”

  She was a cute idiot granola girl. Yeah, he got that. “Do you have a list of the companies or people you’ve protested in the last year or so?”

  If he had a list, he could figure out if her protests had actually cost someone money. The loss of money could make a person hate pretty damn quick. The faster he figured out who was after her, the faster she could have perfectly worry-free sex.

  Nell nodded. “I can print out my schedule for the last year. I’m very organized. I’ve been thinking about using the Internet to bring activists together.”

  “You do that. The printout, please,” Bishop said as he walked around.

  The cabin was tiny. It couldn’t be more than seven hundred square feet. He counted two whole bedrooms and poked his head into a bathroom that wouldn’t hold more than one person at a time. He looked into the smaller of the two bedrooms. There was a double bed with a pretty pink-and-white quilt that had been slashed to pieces. He could see the room as it had been, pulling back the chaos and forming a picture in his mind of the way Nell’s room should be laid out. There was no question the room was Nell’s. She would never take the larger room. She would have given that up to anyone she was living with. She needed a keeper.

  And it was easy to see what she valued. Books. They were torn and damaged, but she’d lined her walls with books and not just nonfiction. He caught sight of some racy covers in the midst of the chaos. Romances. So she wasn’t just interested in intellectual pursuits. She had a romantic side. He could use that.

  Underneath a pile of shredded clothes, he saw a hint of pink fur. He reached down and pulled out a teddy bear. Worn and old, it was a sad-looking little thing. Its middle had been torn open.

  “Mr. Snugglebunny. I know. It’s a bear, but I was into bunnies back then.” A sad smile lit her face as she took the pathetic-looking stuffed animal from his hands. “As far as I know it’s the only thing I have left of my father.”

  He looked at the toy. It was an odd thing. It wasn’t fashioned from mass-marketed materials. Someone had sewn the thing by hand. The bear had buttons for eyes and a black yarn nose. It was a piece of her childhood, and it meant something to her.

  He couldn’t miss the tears that pooled in her eyes. “I think you can find someone to fix it.”

  Her eyes were bright as she looked up. “Yes. Yes, I can. And I can fix the cabin back up. So I was thinking I can probably get a new door in town, and I have a book on home repairs. I think it’s best if my mom stays with Pam for a while until I get the cabin back into shape. Is there any way you could drop me off in town?”

  He felt his eyes narrow because she had plans. That was obvious. He was fairly sure that he wouldn’t like her plans. “Why?”

  “Because I need to start scheduling the repairs.”

  That wasn’t all she was planning on doing. She was hiding something. It was right there in the way she wouldn’t look him in the eyes. And why had she talked about her mom staying with Pam Sheppard and not herself? It was time to start herding Nell in the proper direction. He crowded her. It wasn’t hard in the small bedroom.

  The minute she realized how close he was, she backed up, ceding the space until her back hit the door. “Henry?”

  “How do you intend to pay for those repairs?” This cabin would require extensive repairs. Everything would have to be replaced. The door alone would cost hundreds of dollars, not to mention fixing the windows. He would bet a lot that Nell didn’t have that money.

  Her face flushed the closer he got. Yes, she was aware of him, finally. That was what he wanted. “I don’t know that’s your business.”

  “So it’s my business to take care of this for you, but not to know how you’ll take care of yourself? Is that how you work when you help someone out? You just do one piece of the job and send them on their way?” He was playing on her sympathetic soul. And her body. He leaned in. She smelled sweet, like milk and honey. Damn, but he could eat her up. And there was no way to miss the way her nipples peaked under her sweater because she wasn’t wearing a bra.

  Her voice was slightly breathless. “I think it’s nice that you want to help, but I don’t need it. I can fix everything.”

  He loomed over her, well aware that he was using his height to intimidate her. “How, Nell? Do you have a job you haven’t told me about?”

  “I have a computer I can pawn,” she said quietly.

  He’d wondered what she’d intended to do, and still his freaking cold-as-fuck heart softened a fraction. All she’d talked about on the way over here was her writing. “I thought you wrote books.”

  Her back was against the wall. She had nowhere to go, and that was just what he wanted. Her eyes had dilated. They roamed from his face to his neck to his chest, taking him in even as she spoke. “I do, but I have to admit, I don’t think I’m very good at it. I just keep getting rejected, so I might as well get rid of the computer. Do you have to stand so close?”

  There wasn’t a lick of irritation in that question. It had been asked with a delicious
breathiness that let Bishop know she was interested.

  “If you didn’t want me to stand so close, you should have gotten a bigger bedroom,” he said, well aware his voice had gone low. He stared down at her, unwilling to let her off the hook for a second. Now that he was so close to her, he was damn sure he couldn’t let her go. Oh, eventually he would. He would go back to his life and she would move on with hers, but for a week or so, he was going to be in her bed. He was going to be in her body. And he was going to solve a few of her problems. “You can’t pawn your computer. How will you keep up with your protests? How will you know what to protest in the first place?”

  It didn’t make a lick of sense, but he couldn’t stand the thought of her walking into some crummy shop and giving up her computer for half of what it was worth.

  “I’ll figure it out,” she replied, her eyes round.

  And it wouldn’t do a lick of good. It would be a drop in the bucket of what she would need. “It won’t work, Nell.” He backed her against the wall. “Let someone help you. I can loan you the money.”

  It wouldn’t be a loan, but she didn’t have to know that until he was long gone and she couldn’t find him.

  “That’s not a good idea.” Her head tilted up. “None of this is a good idea.”

  But her lips, those fuck-me, take-me lips were trembling. Her hands were moving to his waist like she couldn’t help herself, and he didn’t even want to try to help himself. Everything about his life was plotted and planned and decided on for the best of whatever fucking mission he happened to be on.

  He didn’t want to think. He wanted her. That was all that mattered.

  “It’s the best idea I’ve had in a long time, honey.” He moved his head just a bit because despite her words, she’d already gone up on her tiptoes to bring her mouth closer to his. It was the simplest thing in the world to lean over just a bit and touch his lips to hers.

  So simple and so shattering. The minute he touched her, he lost control. She sighed against him, and the need to dominate her roared through his system. He pushed her against the wall, pulling her up so the only thing supporting her was his strength. She held on to him, clinging like she needed him to breathe.

  He rubbed his body against hers, wishing they weren’t someplace cold. Too many clothes. There was way too much between them. He wanted to be skin to skin, his chest nestling against her breasts. He wanted to feel the hard press of her nipples poking at him. But for now, he simply inhaled her.

  He’d been right. She tasted sweet, so fucking sweet. He wound his arms around her waist and felt her breasts crush against his chest as he licked her lower lip. “Open your mouth. Let me in, baby.”

  He felt the hot rush of her breath along his lips. “Oh, Henry.”

  He hated the fact that she was saying his goddamn fake name, but then he didn’t give a shit because her mouth opened under his and he invaded, taking the space she’d ceded. His tongue surged in, finding hers and playing in a silky dance. So soft. She was ridiculously soft, and there was a natural submission inside Nell that made his cock long to dominate. She was hesitant at first, but then her tongue touched against his and she picked up the rhythm.

  His cock ached. She was too short. He couldn’t get her in the right position. He needed to lay her down and spread her out like a feast. Not this first time. He was too hot for that. This first time would be hard and quick, but later he would eat her pussy for hours. He would tie her up and have her begging for his cock.

  But for now her single bed would have to do. He gripped her ass. Oh, yeah, he was going to fuck her there, too. He was going to work his cock into her little asshole and enjoy her squirms and the breathy pants she would make. Fuck yeah. “Hold on.”

  She gasped as he moved her. He was lifting her, carrying her with him. He didn’t give her a second to think. He didn’t need his mouth to turn and fall onto the bed with her. He kept her mouth perfectly occupied, tangling their tongues together. Her hands found his hair, and he felt her fingers running across his scalp, holding him to her as though he would leave. She was seriously underestimating her own appeal. He wasn’t leaving until he’d had her a hundred times. He might need more than a week. They wouldn’t miss him. Two weeks. That was all it would take. Two weeks and he would surely have fucked her out of his system.

  He could fuck her a lot in two weeks.

  He buried his face in her neck as his hand found her breast. Definitely a C-cup and perfectly natural.

  “Henry, that feels so nice.”

  Nice? He wasn’t nice. He was nasty, and he was going to get her nasty, too. He finally managed to get his cock where it needed to be, right against her pussy. He rubbed against her, letting her feel every inch of his erection. “It’s not going to be nice, baby. It’s going to be hot and fast and hard. I’m going to have you screaming for me before I’m done. Do you understand?”

  It was such a small thing. A tiny squeak, but Bishop was too well trained. His cock protested, but his instincts took over. One minute he was promising Nell a violent orgasm, and the next he was off the bed and had his hands wrapped around some kid’s throat.

  Tall, gangly. The skinny fucker couldn’t be more than twenty. His blue eyes went wide with fear. Even at his impressive height, Bishop managed to hold him off the ground with a single hand. The kid’s sneakers kicked, trying to find something solid. He dropped the baseball bat he had in his hand.

  “Now, see, I told him to leave you two be,” a laconic voice said. A man in a khaki uniform and a cowboy hat sat in the living room. From the open door, Bishop could see the man was relaxing, his feet up on the TV stand. “Seth wasn’t listening. Logan wasn’t either, but he didn’t happen to find a piece of sporting good equipment fast enough.”

  “I’m here.” Another equally gangly kid ran into the cabin. “Did Seth save Nell?”

  “Uhm, this really hurts,” the kid named Seth said. “Could I go now?”

  “Henry, you put Seth down this instant.” Nell was on her feet, straightening her clothes. She was right back to the buttoned-up, slightly prudish girl she’d been before he’d gotten in between her legs.

  He thought about going ahead and killing the little fucker. He could do it. He could decapitate a man without ever breaking the skin. It was one of his many talents.

  “Don’t, man,” the deputy said. He had to be the deputy. This was a man and not a boy, but he wasn’t anywhere close to retirement. “I understand the inclination to kill him, but he really did think you were raping poor Nell. The kid can’t tell the difference between a good moan and a bad one. I think we need to get them both laid, but Logan there has a momma who likes to shoot a man’s balls off for target practice.”

  “She doesn’t have to know, Rye.” The kid named Logan was carrying a Ping-Pong paddle.

  “Oh, Marie would know. Marie knows everything. And what did you think you were going to do with that thing? Were you going to paddle him to death?” Rye got up, a notepad in his hand. “Uh, Mr. Whatever your name is, he’s turning blue. Now, if you’re really intent on killing him, I’m going to have to file a report, and I hate reports. The name’s Harper by the way. Rye Harper.”

  “Henry Flanders.” Bishop dropped the kid. He hit his knees, gasping for breath.

  Nell was right there beside him, offering comfort. To the kid who’d interrupted them, of course. No fucking comfort for him. She stared up at him as she smoothed a hand down the kid’s back. “That was horrible of you, Henry. What were you thinking?”

  He’d been thinking that the asshole was back, and he could take him out and then go right back to fucking Nell.

  Hell, he hadn’t been thinking at all. And obviously the deputy had walked in at some point and had a look around and Bishop hadn’t even noticed. He’d been too busy planning to sink his cock into Nell.

  He didn’t like the feeling. She made him vulnerable. He wasn’t vulnerable.

  “I apologize, of course.” He stood back, watching her. “Next time, I’l
l let whoever walks into your cabin kill us both.”

  She looked up, frowning. “All I’m saying is you should have asked him what he was doing. This is Seth Stark. He’s the grandson of one of our locals. He’s here on his winter break. There was no cause to hurt him. I’m very surprised at you, Henry.”

  “And I thought you were hurting her. Nell doesn’t like men,” Seth choked out.

  “Yes, I do.” She turned that frown on the kid.

  Bishop stepped out, entering the living room. Logan was trying to explain to the deputy that his momma would never know if Rye found him a girl and hey, he was willing to share with Seth.

  What the hell was up with these people? The deputy seemed more interested in talking to the boys than he did in figuring out who was trying to hurt Nell. And Nell didn’t seem the least bit upset by any of it. She was on her feet, walking around and making sure all the other men were taken care of.

  She carefully avoided him.

  She didn’t look to him to handle the deputy. She didn’t ask him to help. She ignored him for the most part, like they hadn’t kissed.

  Maybe she did this sort of thing a lot. Maybe she was used to random guys throwing her down. Yeah, he didn’t like this feeling either. He wasn’t a possessive man. He’d learned long ago not to get attached to anything because it would be gone the next day. But watching Nell with the other men made his fists clench, his gut churn.

  She hadn’t accepted his courtesies, but she allowed the deputy, Rye Harper, to find a seat for her. She allowed him to dust it off and she sat while he stood, taking down her information. Even the dumb-ass kids were allowed to go and find her some cups since all of her glassware was broken.

  But she didn’t ask him for a damn thing.

  What the hell was he around for?

  He stepped out on the porch, the cold still a shock to his system.

  “Who are you?”

  Seth had walked out behind him. He had on a coat, cashmere by the looks of it. Seth Stark had cash, or rather his parents did. His best friend, the kid with the Ping-Pong paddle, didn’t. He was dressed in a sweater that looked hand knitted and well-worn jeans.