Here is the chapter that should have been uploaded yesterday. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except my characters. Which are quite a few this time around. Let's try it this way: I don't own any Marvel characters that happen to show up in the upcoming chapters and which I'm sure you'll recognise without any need to name long lists.

36. Alentejo: Phones and Lessons

Isabel had just opened the door of the car when the phone rang. Again.

She had been proud of herself, the way she'd made Victor realise he couldn't keep her locked in the house. She had even felt victorious while the man had been away on that first job since their move to Alentejo. She had texted him every time she left and returned, as promised, and had sent him random texts while she was out. She had said one hour, but she had ended up texting with intervals ranging from 10 to 90 minutes. Her idea was to get him off balance on when exactly she'd contact and, slowly, push the average to long uncontacted periods. Not once had he called her when she was out, on that first job. He'd been perfectly satisfied with her texted reports, laconic though they might have been. Three days into his second job, though, he'd been plaguing her every time she left the house with crabby calls.

"Yes?" She answered with a forced smile.

Isabel had left the house two hours ago and he had called her four times already. She had hooked up with a group that created local craft to sell at monthly craft markets and nearby fairs. It was organised by two unemployed sisters who had contacted local homes for the elderly so the old women could put their skills to good use and get some pocket money to supplement their pensions. They got some money from selling the old women's work, but they also kept their garage door open to anyone who came in requesting custom made clothes or in need of mending old clothes. Isabel had offered to pay a fee in return for sewing lessons and Victor was well aware that she now met up with them almost daily, sticking around their garage-turned-shop for at least one hour. Had that stopped him from harrassing her?

"What're ya doin'?"

It was always that same maddening question. Three days of constant harrassing! Isabel nearly felt ashamed around Marta and Zulmira, the way the phone kept ringing. She was that close to start switching it off.

"I'm opening the door," she said.

He wanted detailed reports did he? Let's see if he liked having his wish fulfilled.

"What door?"

"The car door."

"Ah," and the relief in his tone aggravated her. "Ya're finally goin' back t'the house. It's about time!"

"No, no, I'm going to sit down."

She grimaced at the stupid retort. It was the first thing that had popped in her head but it didn't make much sense.

"Huh? Sit down where?"

"In the car, obviously. I can't really drive the car if I don't sit down first, can I?"

There was a slight silence and Isabel held back a chuckle. She might be talking a bit nonsensically, but for as long as it annoyed the man…

"But ya're goin' back t' the house?"

"Obviously! I have to spend the night somewhere."

Another silence.

"Isn't it near lunch time in Portugal? Why are ya talkin' 'bout spendin'… You are goin' back t'the house now, ain't ya?"

Isabel smiled devilishly.

"No, not now. Later."

"Ya've already been outta the house fer over two hours and it's nearly lunch time. What d'ya mean ya ain't goin' back just yet?"

"Oh, I don't know. It's a nice day. I'm thinking about going for a drive."

She could hear him snarling on the other side and she almost giggled at the sound.

"You are gettin' inside the car an' goin' straight back t' the house, ya hear me?"

Straight? Isabel knew that word. It meant directly but it could also mean in a line. Let's pretend she only knew one meaning…

"Oh, no, my love. I can't go straight. I would have to drive through a bunch of houses."

"Are ya fuckin' playin' games with me, woman?!"

She almost said yes. This was fun, provoking him over the distance. If she pestered him every time he phoned, maybe he'd learn his lesson and give it a break.

"I wouldn't call it games," she said, leaning on the open door. "Games are fun. Are you having fun?"

"I'm sure as hell gonna have fun teachin' ya a lesson, ya fuckin' asshole!"

She might be pushing the man a bit too far. But then she got inspired. Suicidally inspired.

"Promise?" She said, and she could almost imagine him frowning in surprise at the unexpected comeback. "I'll be waiting, then."

She hung up before he could react and got in the car, throwing the phone onto the other seat. Victor was supposed to return late in the following day, which meant she had over twenty-four hours to keep on provoking the man.

Driving back to the house, Victor called. Obviously, she didn't answer. If he wasn't about to go into a berserker rage, he'd remember she'd said she was opening the door of the car and would realise she was driving.

She got back to the house and waited for him to call again while fixing herself lunch. After twenty minutes, though, she frowned. Maybe he had had to go back to work. Bummed at the thought, she decided to poke him a bit more.

I'm waiting for the lesson you promised. Don't keep me waiting too long.

Once he read the text, he'd call her. Isabel sat down to have lunch with the phone next to her. After cleaning the kitchen, she sat down on the sofa. Nothing yet. She sighed and lay back. In between the late August heat and a heavy stomach, she ended up falling asleep.

She dreamt of him. Angry and naked, those beautiful eyes fired up and his fangs biting into her shoulder, his claws making her moan as her own nails drew blood from his back. Fucking her with all his strength till she... The ringing snapped her out of it before she could come.

Gasping, frustrated, Isabel looked around. The phone had fallen off and she had to fetch it from under the couch. Victor. Who else?

"Hey…"

"What the fuck were ya doin' that took ya this long t'answer the damn phone?"

Welcome to reality. And to think Isabel had been ready to be sweet and loving in the aftermath of that dream.

"I was getting laid," she said and even her baseline ears could hear the man's stunned breathing. "And it was very rude of you to interrupt before I could come."

He continued in shocked silence. It was probably the most shocked silence of all his very long life, Isabel smirked. He must be trying to make sense of what she'd said and failing at every turn.

"Well, if you're not going to say anything, I'm going to finish what you interrupted. Bye."

It took the man almost a minute to call back, but he did so with a roaring shout. It sent shivers down her spine.

"WHAT THE FUCK D'YA THINK YA'RE DOIN', WOMAN!"

Isabel held back laughter, even as a little voice warned her she was taking the joke too far. Oh, very well. She wouldn't push him much longer, then.

"Do you mean right now? I'm talking to you. But if you meant a minute ago, you were fucking me hard in one of my best wet dreams ever. And if you mean what I'm going to do next, I'm going to masturbate. Be a darling and don't interrupt this time, ok?"

And she hung up. He was going to call her again, though, wasn't he?

I'm switching off the phone for some privacy. Hurry up with my lesson, though. I'm dying for it.

Isabel didn't switch off, though, she simply put it in silence. As expected he called. The phone buzzed in her hands over and over again and she controlled the urge to answer. Let him suffer.

Oh, a text!

Im gonna kill you

Good thing he was too far away to do it right now. Maybe she had pushed him a bit too far. She'd text him in English to make up for it.

yes fak me til Im ded of plejar

She wondered wh…

text in port I cant undestand a thing

Isabel pouted. She was pretty sure the spelling wasn't that off. It really killed the mood being asked to translate stuff.

I want you to fuck me till I'm dead of pleasure

The phone buzzed anew and Isabel hesitated before answering.

"What the fuck's wrong with you, woman?" His voice was much calmer though. "Is there a reason fer you to piss me into a fuckin' berserker rage?"

"A restless pussy."

He didn't understand the Portuguese expression and she groaned, annoyed with yet another linguistic barrier that ruined every effect she chose to go for.

"I want you inside me, ok?" She snapped, still in Portuguese. "And I don't give a shit if you're coming back fucking pissed because that's exactly what I'm hungry for."

At least after that wet dream it was. There was a bit of silence and a sobering thought flashed through her mind.

"Oh, no you don't! You better not be thinking about giving me a lesson with 'no sex' because then I'm the one who'll be fucking pissed."

"Huh?"

"It's exactly like that! And just so we are both clear on the subject, saying one is too pissed to have sex is a very good reason to not have sex. In fact, it's a reason no one can attack, and if you come back saying that, I will not be happy but I won't give you any shit about it. But if you come back, all cool headed, and claim 'no sex' is a fucking lesson, then, you listen to me carefully, that is not acceptable and I will give you fucking shit like you've never seen it."

Isabel hung up and sat back. He'd phone again now. She put the volume up and sighed. It occurred to her that, if Victor were to phone her constantly, or text, but do so teasingly rather than just asking 'what you're doing' and telling her to go back to the house as soon as possible; if Victor were to phone her teasingly, she wouldn't mind him doing it every ten minutes. Well, maybe not literally but…

She looked at the phone. Nothing.

Drats. She'd been having fun, now. Maybe she should text him.

what are you doing?

Hehe. Let's see if he liked a taste of his own medicine.

get back to the house as soon as possible

Nothing.

She started typing another text then stopped. No. To keep on texting wouldn't do. Right now, she had the upper hand. Let him marinate.

It was dark, crickets chirping all around the house, and Isabel was getting antsy. Better yet, she had been getting antsier and antsier with every passing hour. She was horny and frustrated, and Victor hadn't had the decency of either calling or texting.

She had spent the evening putting together all sorts of texts to send the man, from the tame to the outrageous, from the apologetic to the accusing, though mostly dwelling on the provocative. Aggressively so.

He could be on a job, though. Maybe that was the reason for the silence.

Lying in bed, no lights on except for the screen of the phone, Isabel groaned. What to do? As the clock chimed ten, though, she decided she'd have enough.

Can you talk?

If he were on a plane he wouldn't be able to. Drats. But why would he be on a plane? He wasn't supposed to get back before next day's late afternoon.

She groaned. There was no way she was going to get any sleep! And it was all his fault. If he hadn't been harrassing her with phone calls for three days, she wouldn't have gotten into the mood of pestering him. She hoped he was antsy, too.

Though he probably wouldn't be.

It annoyed her. He should be. If she was lying in bed, suffering from an antsy pussy; the least the man could do was suffer from an antsy dick.

Isabel glared at the phone. She could get him antsy. Hell if she couldn't! She'd get him so horny, he'd hire a jet to get back faster.

nights are too boring. I'm going to buy some sex toys to replace you when you go away.

That should really tick him.

The moment she sent the text, though, she regretted it. She was being plain mean.

who am I kidding? Of course they won't.

There, that should placate him.

when I close my eyes I can almost imagine your claws grazing my skin

your hand grabbing one breast while you suck the other

I can almost feel your taste as I lick your dick

but is not the same

I can finger myself all night and it will never come close to your touch

Oh, she would give anything to see his face when he read those.

She dropped the phone and waited fretfully, then got the phone back. It had been five minutes since her last message and he hadn't said anything. She really wanted him to be on a plane. She was sure he wouldn't keep silent after seeing those texts.

But what if he was still on a job and simply didn't have the phone on him to avoid distractions or…? She sighed at the screen.

hello

HELLO

See? You don't want to phone me all the time asking me stupid questions. You bring out my nagging side.

Have you finished your job?

I take back what I said: I do NOT want you to stay away for more than four days

I hope you're on the plane. If you're keeping silent just to piss me off, I'll be so beyond pissed, I won't want sex with you for a whole month.

She sighed and closed her eyes, telling herself she should sleep. But she wanted him to say something! She wanted to see – or at least hear – his reaction. She recalled the whole conversation then she had an idea and giggled.

She sent him a photo of her breasts and followed with a list of Portuguese words from the everyday common usage to the metaphoric. Then she did the same for her ass and her pussy.

I hope you enjoy the dictionay I've sent

If you send me some bodyparts, I'll give you more words.

She really hoped he was on the plane, on his way back. Or driving. That would be even better.

Where are you?

I'm in bed.

Completely naked for you.

I have no intention of staying naked all day long for you, so do try to get here before morning, you hear?

Isabel opened her eyes when a… she wasn't sure what sound it had been, but she was sure she had heard something. She looked at the phone and realised it was 2 am. She must have dozed...

"What the fuck is wrong with you, you demented asshole?"

Isabel sat up in bed with a gasp, clutching her chest. God!

"Damn it, man!" She breathed hard. "Do you want to give me a heart attack?"

Looking at the dark shape taking up the door frame, Isabel could distinguish nothing but the man's glowing eyes. She loved the sound of his growl, but that was not going to excuse the way he'd burst in there.

"What the fuck did you expect from me? If you pester me all day long with stupid phone calls, it was obvious I was going to follow your lead sooner or later, wasn't it? Besides, getting sex texts is far better than that stupid 'what you're doing' so I don't know why you're complaining."

He lunged at her, snarling and growling. Isabel welcomed him with demanding arms and kissed him feverishly, her fingers grabbing onto his hair.

"Get off those fucking clothes, damn you!" She grunted the moment the kiss broke.

But he only got rid of his jeans, not his shirt, and Isabel wrapped her legs around his waist, cursing him Portuguese.

"You provoke and provoke," she growled. "Thought you weren't going to get some, huh?"

He thrusted hard into her and Isabel's nails scrapped over the shirt. She was too short to kiss him while he fucked her, so she usually kissed his chest and shoulder. Or bit it. The shirt, though, prevented her from doing her usual. Irked, she bit him on the neck instead. She bit down with all her might, all her frustration, all the pleasure that he's…

Fuck!

Isabel hit her head hard on the bedstand and hissed.

"Fuck," she grumbled in Portuguese, "why the hell did you do that?"

And then she noticed something wet and warm all over her.

"What the…"

She reached for the lamp and switched it on as she finally realised Victor was cursing. It took her a moment to realise she was covered in blood, but it didn't make any sense. She looked at Victor, trying to understand where that blood had come from.

"Why the fuck did you bite my jugular open?" Victor was gawking at her, a hand on his neck and his shirt soaked in blood. "What the fuck did you think you were doing, woman!"

"Jugular?" she echoed without understanding. "What are you talking about? I bite you all the time and you never… you never bled before… well, not like this, anyway."

"You bit my jugular," he hissed before going into Spanish. "It's a vein in the neck. You can kill someone if you bite their jugular open!"

Isabel sat up and sighed, frustrated. Why was he so flustered? It wasn't as if he could bleed to death.

"Well… next time get rid of your shirt. That way I can bite your shoulder or your chest instead of your neck."

The man snarled at her in silence for a moment then Isabel sighed, frustrated.

"I guess I better start cleaning, then."

Creed grabbed her by an arm as she got up, though.

"If ya think ya gonna tease me the way ya did an' then stop me with a fucking bite, ya got another thing coming, woman."

Isabel looked at the blood soaked mattress and groaned.

"How the hell am I going to clean all this blood from the mattress?"

Although, obviously, she wasn't.

"Ya should have thought 'bout it 'fore ya bit me, ya freakin' wanna-be vampire."

"Remember to keep your shirt on every time you want a repeat. But not on the bed!"

Victor finished getting dressed, after his morning shower, as Isabel collected the sheets. She'd have to soak them in cold water and salt. Maybe resort to oxygenated water.

"Leave it be," Victor said. "I'll get ya a new mattress; there's no need fer ya ta exert yerself over that. Get breakfast ready while I get my bags."

Grumbling, she went to the kitchen. New mattress or not, there was still the matter of the sheets. She'd fill the bathtub with cold water to take care of them, she decided. Isabel was whisking the eggs when Victor stopped by, the bag in his hand, and dropped a CD on the table.

"What's that?"

He was already on his way out and stopped with a hesitation.

"A music CD. Ain't it obvious?"

Yes, she could see it was a music CD, but…

"Why are you giving me a music CD?"

" Wh…? Well… 'cause ya're always playin' that stupid guitar and… ya're always playin' the same thing. Figured ya needed some inspiration ta innovate a bit."

Isabel became aware she was staring at the man with a dumbfounded expression when he frowned gruffly.

"Well, ya showed me how ya can play stuff by ear. Ya said ya's an expert transposin' music from whatever t' the piano an' the guitar…"

Victor turned away suddenly, leaving the sentence half-way. She hadn't meant to hurt his feelings, she just… couldn't figure out why he had brought her something when she'd provoked him so shamelessly. Had he bought it for her before the phone war? Or had he actually liked it enough to buy her something?

She picked up the CD. Best of Tracy Chapman. The name meant nothing to her, but perhaps she'd recognise the songs. She took the CD to the living room, where an old hi-fi system was anchored, and started playing it. Nice voice. Guitar. That's why he'd chosen this album. She opened the guitar case, which she kept next to the hi-fi system, and laid it on the couch, then she went to the bedroom with the CD case in her hand.

Victor's bag was open but not yet empty. He was by the window with the tablet. Probably checking his emails.

"When's yer next doctor appointment?" He asked gruffly, not turning to face her. "I got another job and I wanna make sure it won't overlap."

"Friday."

He grumbled under his breath.

"Victor, what order should I follow?"

He looked back with a frown.

"A CD has too many songs," she explained. That one in particular had eighteen. "It'll take a long time to learn them all. I mean, it's easy to transpose, but to actually learn a song, for real, I mean, to always remember it, I have to practise for at least two or three weeks. It's easier if I only focus on one song at a time. It's not like I'm a genius."

Victor shrugged.

"Start wi' the one ya prefer, how should I know."

"I don't want start wid my favourite," she switched to English. "I want start wid your favourite. If I'm going to learn a song, is better be something you like hear and not something dat makes you run away from de house."

He shrugged again and looked back at the tablet.

Isabel placed the CD on a clean spot of the mattress and walked softly up to him, groped his ass.

"Stop it," he growled lightly.

He didn't push her away, though, so Isabel let her hand slide over to his belt to start undoing it.

"Ya're a fuckin' lil' devil, ya know that?"

Isabel smiled as he switched off the tablet.

"Little? You call me little devil?" He grabbed her wrist and held it behind her back, pulling her to him. "I have to work more serious. I want be a big devil."

She got up on her toes so he could kiss her more easily. It was so annoying having such a big height difference.

"Just pick one damn song and I'll let ya know if I don't like it." He said, his frown gone. "Is breakfast ready yet, ya big temptin' devil? I gotta go get a new mattress, remember?"

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