Page 8 of Can't Get No Satyrfaction

This was her idea of dressed? She was wearing the same tight-fitting denim shorts she’d been wearing the day before, along with a sleeveless pink checked shirt, the hem knotted at her waist to reveal a tempting sliver of creamy skin. Her hair had been tied back into two rather lopsided pigtails tied with matching pink and white bows.

If anyone else had been wearing such an outfit, he would have found it ridiculous. On her, not only was it adorable, but it gavehim far too many ideas about burying his hands in those silly little ponytails as he guided her mouth to…

Fuck.What the hell is wrong with me, he thought as his cock reacted again. Despite the satyrs’ reputation as hedonists, he’d never had much interest in wine, women, and song. His restraint was mainly due to his responsibilities, first to his sister and then to his forest, but he’d never been particularly tempted. He’d certainly never been interested in a human before.

Her teasing smile turned professional as she looked over at Wadslow and raised her camera.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The gnome grinned and puffed out his chest importantly.

She’s good at this, he admitted reluctantly a few minutes later. He had suspected as much when he’d followed her the previous day—purely to make sure that she didn’t run into any additional danger. He couldn’t speak to the quality of her pictures, but he’d seen how much attention she’d paid to the small details of the forest. Working with Wadslow, she kept up a flow of cheerful conversation, putting the gnome at ease and gradually transitioning him from the poses he was so eager to strike to a more relaxed, natural posture. As the pair moved over towards the stream, she paused and pointed the camera at Thorn.

“Now, that would make a great contrast picture,” she said cheerfully. “Tall and grumpy next to short and handsome.”

Wadslow barked out a laugh as Thorn growled at her.

“I don’t want my damn picture taken.”

“Now, why doesn’t that surprise me? Don’t worry, these are only for me.”

She smiled and turned back to Wadslow as he tried to repress a foolish surge of gratification. Fifteen minutes later, she announced that she was done and thanked Wadslow for posing. The gnome gave her sweeping bow and raised her hand to his lips.

“It has been a great pleasure, my lady. I hope you visit our forest again. Take care of her, Thorn,” Wadslow added, giving him a shit-eating grin before vanishing into the undergrowth.

She smiled after the gnome while he tried to suppress his irritation that the other male had been fortunate enough to touch his lips to any part of her pretty little body. Then she turned that same smile on him and waved her hand dismissively.

“I know, I know. I should turn back, it’s too dangerous. You’re not going to watch out for me, blah blah blah. You have to admit, everything’s been going fine, hasn’t it?”

Only because he’d been protecting her as he followed her through the woods. He’d scared away a snake and sternly discouraged a mischievous pixie. He’d lit her fire for her when she’d gone to get water and fixed her ridiculous attempt at a shelter. However, he didn’t want to divulge any of that to her so he settled on the most recent incident.

“You would have fallen if I hadn’t caught you when Wadslow startled you.”

To his annoyance, she only shrugged.

“So I might have ended up with a bruised butt. It would have been fine.”

“And gnomes can be tricky,” he added, but she gave him a disbelieving look.

“Wadslow? He was a sweetheart. Do you always expect the worst?”

“Yes,” he said promptly. “I wish to be prepared.”

“And I prefer to believe that things are going to turn out well. I’m sure I’m much happier that way.” She smiled at him and shrugged again. “I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

She turned her back, clearly dismissing him as she reached into her tent and pulled out her pack and a sleeping bag in a bright floral pattern. The sudden, ridiculous thought of what it would be like to share it with her, her pretty little body curled up against him, flashed through his mind. He growled, annoyed with himself, and she turned her head towards him.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like flowers.”

It was a stupid thing to say, but she only laughed.

“I love them. They always make me feel happy. But I bet you’re a no nonsense type of guy.”

“I’m not a guy,” he muttered as she started trying to wrestle one of the tent posts out of the ground. Since it was one of the ones he’d forced deeper into the ground the night before to stabilize the tent, he suspected that she wasn’t going to be successful.

He sighed. He’d told Wadslow the truth—it would not be good for the reputation of the Others if harm came to her. Telling himself that was the only reason he was helping her, he went to her side and yanked the peg free in one swift movement.

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