Page 5
Story: Disciplined By the Orc
He turns, a hint of a smile on his face as he slides a mug towards me. Our fingers brush as I take it, and the jolt I experience has nothing to do with caffeine. Up close, the details of his orcish features are fascinating, the slight jut of his lower canines, the faint ridges on his forehead, the intense yellow of his eyes.
"What?" he asks gruffly, noticing my stare.
I flush, embarrassed at being caught. "Nothing, I've never met an orc before."
He snorts, turning back to the stove. "Yeah, well, we're not exactly common in the French Quarter. Or anywhere else for that matter."
Curiosity overcomes my embarrassment. "How did you end up in New Orleans?"
Koda stiffens slightly. "That's a long story. And not one for right now." He plates the sausages and turns, his expression closed off. "Eat up. Then you should get some rest. We've got a lot to figure out."
As we eat in silence, I can't help but feel the weight of all the questions hanging between us.Who is Koda, really? What am I going to do about the gang that's after me? How long will we have to hide out here?
The bayou buzzes with life outside, reminding me how far we are from the world I know. In this isolated cabin, with this grumpy orc as my company.
Four
Koda
She's been here a week now and every day, she finds new ways to test my patience, questioning my orders, trying toorganizemy things. The air between us is charged, but not in a good way — more like the tension before I snap and do something I'll regret. This wasn't part of the plan. She was supposed to be a job, nothing more. Protect the witness, keep her safe, end of story. Not whatever the hell this is becoming.
A clatter from the bedroom snaps me out of my thoughts. Pamela's voice drifts out. "Oops! Sorry, I was just looking for an extra blanket and-"
I'm moving before I even realize it, a growl building in my throat. She's in my room, the one place in this cabin I told her was off-limits. As I round the corner, I see her standing there, eyes wide, holding...
Damnit.
"What do you think you're doing?" I snarl, snatching the item from her hands and shoving it back in the drawer. "I told you this room was private."
Pamela takes a step back, her cheeks flushed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snoop, I just-"
"You just what?" I loom over her, anger and embarrassment and something else I can't name all churning inside me. "Thought you'd poke around in my personal things?"
She lifts her chin, a spark of defiance in her eyes. "I said I was sorry. I was looking for a blanket, that's all."
I take a deep breath, trying to rein in my temper. "There are spare blankets in the hall closet. Which you'd know if you'd asked instead of going through my things."
Pamela nods, but doesn't move. Her eyes flick to the open drawer, then back to me. There's something in her gaze - curiosity, maybe even... interest? The thought sends a jolt through me.
"Koda," she says, her voice hesitant. "What's... what's all this?" She gestures to the drawer, where the edge of a leather cuff is visible among other items. Her eyes widen as she takes in more details - the sleek handle of a paddle, the delicate chains of a flogger, and what looks like a riding crop.
I feel the heat rise to my face, a rare occurrence for an orc. "That's personal," I growl, moving to shut the drawer. But Pamela's quicker, her small hand darting out to stop me. Her fingers brush against a leather collar, and she pulls back as if burned.
"Is this... are these for...?" She trails off, her cheeks flushing as realization dawns. Her eyes dart between the discipline implements and my face, a mix of shock and something else in her gaze.
I bark out a laugh, more from discomfort than humor. "Not from my mercenary days, if that's what you're thinkin'." I run a hand over my face, suddenly tired. "Look, what a man does in his private time ain't your business."
Pamela's eyes fix on the drawer, particularly on a sleek black paddle with intricate designs etched into its surface. "I've never seen anything like this before," she murmurs, almost to herself.
"Yeah, well, now you have," I grunt, finally closing the drawer. "And that's all you're gonna see. This ain't show and tell, sweetheart."
She looks up at me, her expression a mix of embarrassment and curiosity. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. It's just unexpected."
I lean in close, my voice a low rumble. "Life's full of surprises, ain't it? Now, how about we forget this little discovery and you remember what I said about respecting boundaries?"
Pamela nods quickly, but I can see the questions burning in her eyes. Questions I'm not ready to answer, not by a long shot.
"Good," I growl, stepping back. "Now scram. And next time you need something, you ask. Got it?"