Seri snickers and shakes her head as she replaces the sketch and wanders toward the kitchen area. She helps me dry and put the dishes away, and then I go to tend to the fire.
I grab the poker and spread out the partially burnt wood at the bottom of the fireplace, then add a couple more logs until it’s blazing again. I hold my hands out for a moment to warm them.
“It’s so dark out there.” Seri is still standing in the kitchen, staring out the window. “It doesn’t feel all that late.”
“It really isn’t. The sun sets in the afternoon and doesn’t come up again until late morning.”
“How many candles do you go through during the winter?”
“A lot.” I start to say something about how I’ve been using more candles and kerosene with her here, but I don’t want her to get upset about using up my resources. I have plenty of both and usually end up with extra at the end of the season. It just made sense to provide more light inside so she wouldn’t end up tripping over things.
I toss in another log. The fire is really blazing now, and the heat is intense against my face and chest. I reach up and pull my shirt over my head, tossing it to one side as I continue to rearrange the logs for optimum performance.
When the fire is both large enough and stacked correctly to burn down smoothly, I stand up and place the fire poker back against the wall. As I do, Seri comes up behind me and slides her arms around my waist.
“I’m cold, Bishop. You should warm me up.”
For a moment, I hold my arms away from my body as I look down at the interlocked hands just above the waistline of my jeans, not sure what I am supposed to do. It’s not a comfortable way to stand, so I place my hands over hers.
“I just added more wood to the fire,” I say. “If you stand closer or just give it a minute, it will get warmer.”
“That is so not what I meant.” She laughs as she spins me around by the hips and presses close to me. “You have to get sick of this shit.”
“Sic
k of what?” Her question has caught me off guard, and it takes me a moment to realize she has cursed again.
“Day in and day out, staring at the same four walls, eating the same shit food in front of the same fucking fire.”
I blink several times as I process her words. The cursing wasn’t just a one-off. Her eyes are bright with mischief, and her smile isn’t her usual easygoing one. Her expression isn’t quite maniacal, but it’s close.
“What are you doing?” I ask quietly.
“Seducing you.” She chuckles again.
I shake my head. I don’t know how to respond to this, and no amount of opening and closing my mouth brings forth sensible words. She runs her hands up and down my arms as she stares at my bare chest.
“Nearly perfect,” she says quietly. “Nearly fucking perfect!”
“Nearly?” I shiver as her fingertips glide lightly over my side, tickling my skin.
“There’s always room for improvement.”
I swallow. In the back of my head, there’s a brief memory of strip searches, but the feeling of being evaluated by Seri isn’t quite the same. It’s more as if I were a male stripper standing next to other male strippers hoping to be chosen for the bachelorette’s party.
“You are so fucking adorable. Do you know that?”
“I am?”
“Yes, you are. You walk around like you don’t have any idea how hot you are, showing off all this survival knowledge, and you’re just one step above being a virgin. That’s fucking hot.”
I open my mouth to respond, but what can I say to that? My dick is hard, and I’m starting to think all the blood from my head has permanently relocated. I can’t think straight.
She runs her hands over my bare chest, then up to my shoulders and down my arms.
“I want to know what these hands can do,” she says as she raises her eyebrows at me.
“My hands?”