Page 18 of Bound and Tide

Red reached him and smirked—not a smile, nothing like the sweet look she gave to her customers, and not even the grin that came with putting the finishing touches on one of her concoctions—this was a truly devious twisting of her lips, and it was all for him. Her eyes flicked to the exquisitely spotless floor just between them and then back up to meet his.

It was strange how the thought never passed through his mind that he shouldn’t descend to his knees, but neither body nor noxscura fought him to remain standing when she gave his coat a tug.

“Maybe I’ve misunderstood all that blustering you do.” Red lifted her leg, her knee parting the silken material as she steadied a foot on his shoulder. She had nothing on under the robe. “Maybe you deserve a chance to prove what a good boy you can be.”

When it came to the very limited number of nice things that could be said of Xander Shadowhart, good with his tongue would probably top the list. No one ever had to tell him, though they often did and with enthusiasm, but people lied, especially the kind of people on which Xander tended to use it. Thankfully, there were other ways to confirm.

Red was even more beautiful from his new angle, twisting her face up into all kinds of delight as he teased the warmest part of her with the tip of his tongue. She smelled syrupy but tasted of all the contemptible bite her words and glares always held for him, and he wanted more. He sank fingers into the sharpness of her hips, dragging her up against his mouth. Her foot slipped, her knee hooking over his shoulder, and though he was the one on his knees, he finally had her, trapped. Xander chuckled up against her flesh, and her hands searched for purchase on the top of his head.

“What are you?” she demanded between gasps, claws digging into his scalp.

“The man who’s going to make you come undone,” he mumbled between skillful undulations, holding her as still as he could against her bucking.

“You’re not human,” she groaned.

He pulled back, shared wetness bridging between her legs and his tongue, and his eyes found hers from his place on his knees. Blissfully, she blinked down at him, eagerness in the tightness of her jaw and her fist in his hair.

He pressed a finger inside her and curled it, drawing out a cry. “What do you think I am, Red?”

She clenched around him and dropped her head back, pulling his mouth back between her legs. “A bastard.”

Xander’s laughter was the push she needed, his hand and tongue working in tandem as she came apart against his mouth. She was right, of course, and that was all she needed to know.

He steadied her with a hand still firmly clinging to her hip. She went limp for a moment then tugged at her leg, but he kept it there—just a moment longer, just long enough to watch her come down from the high he’d given her, face soft, eyes closed, and to remind her who’d done it. He’d thought her the most beautiful woman in Bendcrest before, but as he gazed upward, he considered her reign could extend a bit farther.

Then she gave him a firmer shove and freed herself, and he could only let her go. “Well, if your services are still being offered, I’m sure I can find more work for you in the future,” she said breathlessly, pulling shut her robe.

Dizzy himself in seeing her so undone, he quickly stood and plucked a folded linen off the counter to wipe his mouth. “I am indeed interested.”

“Good,” she said with a sigh that was only shuddering at its offset. Red was quickly composed then, but her nipples were still beaded under the satiny fabric. Xander regretted not drawing out her pleasure longer, not ripping the robe open and getting a better view of the rest of her, though none of that had been what she offered. “But for now it’s quite late, and the shop is closed.”

As she stood there, her stance hardened, eyes shifting away from him and to the door. It was no different than any other closing time when she sent him out into the cold, only that her taste was on his tongue and the vision of her in ecstasy was firmly rooted in his mind. So, Xander went.

“I suppose,” her voice cut in as he opened the door, “at this point, I should ask what you’re called.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Should you?”

She tightened her grip on her robe, no doubt the gust of cold air from the street chilling her. “I would…like to have your name,” she admitted, a frown creasing her face as if it pained her.

He turned and bowed, and though he expected an alias to fall out, he told her the truth instead.

Chapter 11

DELIBERATELY CONTRARY TO EXPECTATION FOR EMPHATIC EFFECT

“An entire fucking boat?”

“Well, no,” Costa said, gesturing away from the dinghy that bobbed before them to the much larger vessel at the neighboring dock, “a ship.”

“Oh, by the darkest gods.” Xander ground his jaw and crossed his arms tightly, pouting out at the churning river, a wash of ugly grey water under an even greyer sky. There had been no color in his day so far, winter hitting Bendcrest hard in his sleep and blanching everything.

He had woken late, discovered his noxscura was still far from replenished, and the murkiness of snow-laden clouds lulled him back to sleep. Hours later, when the two moons made their early appearance in the winter sky, he finally roused himself, found his arcana acceptable, and returned to that abominable alley. The children had apparently survived their simple box-switching task, and so he offered his assistance in earnest, and of course they then took him to the docks.

“You’re telling me Stavros owes someone an entire sailing vessel? Not just, say, the pointy part in the middle or the big white wooshy bits?”

Costa was reticent as ever. “The sails?”

“Sure, yes, those. They must be affordable considering how plain they are. Might even look for some colorful ones, buy you some favor with these usurers you’re so worried about?”

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