Page 7 of Can't Get No Satyrfaction

He bit back a silent groan when he realized that she was only wearing a tiny little top with an even tinier strap of cloth barely covering her feminine parts. Her very small, feminine parts. They were clearly not physically compatible, he assured himself, stepping in front of her as he glared at Wadslow. The gnome returned the glare, not in the least intimidated.

“What the hell are you doing in there, Wadslow?” he snapped. “We don’t steal from humans.”

“She was in my territory,” Wadslow snapped back. “Humans aren’t allowed here.”

“Yes, I am,” she said indignantly, trying to wiggle past him. “I have special permission, don’t I, Thorn?” He gave a reluctantnod, but she wasn’t finished. “And anyway, it’s bad manners to steal.”

Wadslow actually looked a little abashed.

“I wasn’t going to steal from you. I was just curious.”

Once again, she spoke up before he could stop her, still trying to push past him. “If you wanted to look at something, you could have asked.”

“You did not need to enter her tent,” he growled. “I’m sure you frightened her.”

“Did not,” she muttered as she peered around him and gave Wadslow one of her charming smiles. “I can understand why you were curious. I guess you don’t see too many human campers. But since you’re here, how do you feel about getting your picture taken? I’m trying to capture as much of the magic of the Elderwood as I can while I’m here and you’d be a great addition.”

He expected a vehement denial. Instead, the gnome actually scuffed one foot bashfully, his cheeks reddening.

“Me? You want to take a picture of me?”

“Of course I do. Would that be all right with you?”

Wadslow’s attempt to appear nonchalant was entirely unsuccessful. “I reckon that would be okay. Where do you want me?”

“How about over by that tree? And then maybe by the stream? If you have time for a few shots, I mean.”

She bent down to pick up her camera, and this time he wasn’t as successful in suppressing his groan. Her pretty little ass was even prettier framed by that scrap of pink fabric.

She gave him a startled look, but he ignored her and tucked her back against his side.

“Wadslow, get out of her tent. Sylvie, you will get dressed before you do anything.”

She looked down at herself and an adorable tide of pink rose to her cheeks before she gave him an apologetic smile. “Oops, I forgot about that.”

Why did he want to pull her closer and assure her that she looked absolutely delightful? His gaze dropped to her mouth again, and he watched in fascination as a small pink tongue flicked out to wet her pretty lips. His gaze dropped lower and he saw her nipples stiffen beneath the thin top. Her scent had grown sweeter as well—as if she were aroused. His body instantly responded to the idea, his cock beginning to swell within his sheath.

“Are you gonna let go of the pretty human?” Wadslow demanded impatiently as he left the tent. “Don’t wanna miss my chance to be immortalized on film.”

He took a hasty step away from her, and this time he was the one who almost stumbled. He was fairly sure she hadn’t noticed but from the snort that Wadslow gave, he was equally sure that the gnome had.

“Get dressed,” he ordered again.

This time her smile was more teasing than apologetic, but she ducked into the tent, pulling the zipper closed behind her. Wadslow gave him a knowing look.

“Not like you to be so nice to a human. Then again, I guess most humans don’t look like her.”

“Her looks are none of your business,” he growled, then realized he was only making matters worse. He crossed his arms and frowned at the gnome. “She has permission to be here. I don’t want her getting damaged under my watch—it’s not good for our reputation. And someone has to stop her from running into trouble.”

There was an indignant huff from inside the tent. He ignored it, but Wadslow’s smile grew even wider.

“Whatever you say, Guardian, whatever you say.”

Wadslow wandered over to the tree she had indicated, clearly practicing his poses. He tried to convince himself he shouldn’t wait, then decided he wasn’t going to leave Sylvia alone with Wadslow. He didn’t think the gnome intended her any harm, but gnomes were tricky little creatures with a twisted sense of humor, and he told himself he wouldn’t be doing his job if he left them alone together. He crossed over to a tree on the other side of the clearing and leaned against it, scowling at Wadslow, but the gnome only smirked at him.

Sylvie popped back out of her tent a few moments later and gave him a challenging look.

“Better?”

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