Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 134898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
Raptor brings me a glass of wine, his beer mug covered in slices of onion. He leans over me, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder, and I could swear his thumb brushes against my bare skin, exposed by my wide-necked bodice. It’s enough to make me shiver and grow distracted, but I’m always a little hornier on my period. “Shall I get you something to eat?” he murmurs, looming close. “It might be a while before we can slip away.”
“Perhaps just some cheese and bread? Something simple? I don’t mean to be a bother,” I catch myself saying, and then try to correct it. “Plus, I don’t want to flick crumbs out of my cleavage all night.”
I skim my fingers over my chest, mimicking a cleaning action.
“I’d be happy to help you with that,” he teases, dumping his onions into his beer before taking a hearty swig. I’m a little horrified at all the onions, but it’s the theme of the bar, courtesy of some artifact given to the bar’s owner by the king. Watching Raptor relish a chunk of onion reminds me that he—and all the Taurians—are vegetarians. No meat, and certainly no cow dairy. Goat’s milk is all right, but how am I to know which cheeses look like goat and which don’t?
I think for a moment and then change my order. I hold my hand out. “Here, I’ll hold your beer. Maybe skip the cheese and get some fruit to go with the bread instead?”
I don’t know why I care if I have dairy breath when he’s going to have onion breath….
And he says Taurians don’t kiss.
And we’re supposed to be just friends anyhow.
Even so. I take the onion-and-beer mug from him and hold it, sipping my wine as I watch a couple head out to dance a jig in the center of the floor. I’m pressed up against the back wall of the tavern, surrounded by strangers, but I’m enjoying myself. It’s because of my company, I realize. Even now, as he waits to get food for us, Raptor sends me playful little glances and gestures designed to make me laugh, as if we’re the only ones in the room.
He did a fantastic job with my hair earlier, and he’s given me appreciative looks all day. At one point I caught him staring down my cleavage, but the look on his face was so admiring (and he’s so tall it’s not as if it could have been avoided) that I stood just a little bit straighter, my chest thrust out. After all, why not? It’s not as if this is anything but a pair of friends enjoying a day out.
He still has no idea that we fucked. That I rode on his cock and squeezed his knot. I shouldn’t even have such things on my mind, but I can’t seem to help myself. It was really good sex.
I spot a table emptying out and rush over to it, setting down our drinks. It’s got a perfect view of the festivities. Flicking a few crumbs off the wooden surface, I smile at a nearby man as I nudge Raptor’s beer over to indicate I’m waiting on company.
Hawk leads Sparrow out onto the dance floor, and my friend is all pink cheeks and glowing happiness. They both stumble over their steps, but neither seems to mind. Hawk pulls her closer, his big hand splayed across the small of her back, and twirls Sparrow around. I’m hit with a note of envy. He adores her. She adores him. It must be nice to be so besotted and in love.
“You’re looking at them as if you want to dance,” Raptor says, suddenly appearing at my side.
I jump in my seat, startled, and then shake my head. “I’m about as good a dancer as a three-legged dog.”
“What a coincidence. My dancing tutor was a three-legged dog.” He sits and holds out a shiny, steaming roll of bread crusted with nuts.
I pluck the roll from him and smirk. “It was not. You’re just saying that because you want to see my arse hopping about on the dance floor.”
“Me? I would never.” Raptor pretends to be offended, then ruins it with a grin and a big bite of his own roll. “The food’s decent. Always a good thing at this sort of shindig.”
“Do you go to a lot of weddings, then?” I nibble delicately on my own roll. The top of it is honeyed and my fingers get sticky. I resist the urge to lick them. That’ll seem obvious, and I’m on a slippery slope with Raptor as it is.
“No, but there’s usually one or two every year. You spend a lot of time in the tunnels with someone, working side by side, and it makes sense that your thoughts lead to love.”