Page 3 of Backwater Bait

The chemistry between us is undeniable, a forceful pull that I know is going to drown me. I can’t get enough of her, can’t bear to let her go. My hands find their way to her hair, stroking the silky strands, and she leans into my touch, her eyes half-closed in contentment.

“Beauty,” I growl, my voice barely more than a whisper, “you’re coming home with me.”

It’s not a question and she knows it.

Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I’m afraid she’ll try to fight what we have going on. But then she nods, a silent agreement that sends a surge of joy through me. My heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest, the intensity of my feelings for her almost too much to bear.

I almost thank for her it, but stop myself and pull her close again. This connection that feels so right, so perfect. She fits against me as if she’s already a part of me, and I know I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her by my side.

Stroking her hair, I savor the softness under my fingers. She tilts her head back slightly, giving me that small smile again, and my heart swells with something potently fierce. I don’t believe in love at first sight and yet there’s no other explanation for this. This beautiful, innocent girl has captured my heart completely.

“Let’s go,” I rumble hoarsely, taking her hand in mine. She squeezes my hand, her trust evident in the gesture, and together we begin to walk away from the swamp, towards my cabin. Each step we take feels like a promise, a step towards a future I didn’t know I wanted.

In the back of my mind, warning bells ring, telling me this is too good to be true. But I refuse to listen. I want her too much to let anything deter me.

4.

Belle

A strange mix of anticipation and nervousness flares in me as we approach the house. Arcade’s home stands alone in the bayou, a small cabin almost swallowed by the surrounding wilderness. The weathered wood, highlights years of neglect.

Ivy and moss cling to the walls, and the windows are clouded with dirt, barely letting any light through. It’s clear that this place needs a woman’s touch, a bit of care to transform it from a shelter into a home, but I’m not sure Arcade would want that. I think he likes it like this.

Arcade opens the door and gestures for me to step inside. I hesitate for a short moment, then cross the threshold. The air inside is cool and damp, filled with the scent of something musty. The furniture is sparse and functional—a rough wooden table, a couple of chairs, and a cot in the corner. Everything is covered in a thin layer of dust, as if it hasn’t been cleaned in a long time.

I wander slowly through the room, taking in my new surroundings. My fingers trail over the worn surfaces, leaving clean streaks in the dust. It’s clear that Arcade cares about as much about his habitat as his appearance. Which is very little. I can feel his eyes on me, watching my every move with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine.

“It’s not much, but it’s all I’ve got,” he says, his voice rough and low.

I turn to him, offering a small smile. “I don’t need it to be more,” I say, though I know he can see the truth in my eyes. This place is a far cry from what I’m used to, but there’s something about it that feels exciting. This is a world so different from my own.

He gestures to one of the chairs, and I sit down gracefully, trying to hide how nervous I feel because I know there’s going to be a questioning. Arcade remains standing, his gaze never leaving me. The push and pull between us is dizzying. I want him to touch me, to bridge the distance, but he holds back and seems frustrated with it.

“Tell me what you were doing in the bayou, all on your own?” he grunts, failing to hide the slight accusation in his voice.

He doesn’t want to hear that I frequently swim around naked, hoping to lure in a man. And I don’t. I’ve never done something like this before.

I hesitate, searching for an answer that will satisfy him without revealing too much. “I like how quiet it is here,” I finally say. “And the bayou is beautiful at night.”

He nods, though I can see he’s not entirely convinced. “Where are you from?”

I look down, avoiding his gaze. “I’m from a town, not too far from here, but I needed a change, a break from everything. This seemed like the perfect escape.”

My answers are vague, but I can’t tell him the whole truth, not yet. The tension in the room is thick, charged with unspoken words and rising desire. I want him to touch me, kiss me, but I can sense his worry of coming on too strong, of scaring me away.

“Now that you’re here, you’re going to stay,” he says, his voice rough like a grater. “For as long as I want you. Do you understand?”

I look up at him, swallowing. “Yes. For as long as you want.”

He steps closer, and my breath catches in my throat. His hand reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from my face. I lean into his touch, my eyes closing briefly as I savor the contact. Our bodies are so close, the air between us electric with anticipation. His lips part slightly, and I can see the sharp longing in his eyes.

The tension is almost unbearable, a taut string ready to snap. I want him, more than I’ve ever wanted anything, but I need him to make the first move.

“You,” he gravels, his voice coarse with longing. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me…?”

I place a finger on his lips, silencing him. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me?”

His eyes meet mine, filled with relief and longing. He takes a deep breath, and I can feel the shift in the air between us. Slowly, he leans down, our faces inches apart, our breaths mingling in the cool night air. My heart races, my body responding to his nearness with a heady mix of fear and desire.

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