Page 4 of Can’t Get No Satyrfaction (Mated to the Monster: Season 3)

CHAPTER 4

O nce again, Thorn found himself with an armful of warm, soft, sweet-smelling human female. And once again, it felt entirely too right to have her there. He quickly put her back on her feet, doing his best not to let his hands linger. Or his eyes.

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 reluctant nod, 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?”

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 gave him 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.

Those pretty lips made a tempting little “o” of surprise, but he forced himself to ignore it as he continued around the tent.

“Then I’m going with you,” he growled. “If only to prevent you from dying of sheer optimism.”