Page 57 of Reaper's Ruin
And the sensation wasn’t unpleasant at all.
God, Soraya! Get it together you dead dirty perv!
“Okay. I’ll hold steady while you climb to standing.”
“Are you sure I won’t hurt you standing on your shoulders?”
He snorted. “No. You won’t hurt me.”
I bit my lip. “Okay. Try not to let me fall.”
He held still while I awkwardly climbed to my feet, my hands pressing onto his head as I steadied myself. I wobbled a bit as I reached half height, but he reached up, bracing his hands against my legs. Finally, with my arms outstretched to balance myself, I stood up completely.
“Hey! I did it!” I announcedproudly.
But when I glanced down to grin at him, I realized he was buried beneath my skirt. His head between my legs and if he looked up...
Heat flushed my cheeks. Was he looking? I couldn’t see him under there. Part of me was hoping he was, and the other part of me horrified that he could be staring straight up my skirt.
“Can you reach it now?” he asked, his voice sounding slightly muffled from behind the wall of fabric.
I stretched upward, my fingertips just barely grazing the top of the wall. “Almost. But not quite.”
“This isn’t working,” he muttered. “Hold on.”
Before I could ask what he meant, his hands let go of my calves and I felt him wrapping them around my feet.
“What are you—” I gasped.
“Stand on my hands,” he instructed, raising his palms above his head.
“Are you serious?” I squeaked.
“I won’t drop you,” he promised, his voice steady with a confidence I wished I shared.
I glanced down, but I couldn’t see him or my feet, so I felt my way with one foot until I found his palm. Hesitantly, I placed one foot, then the other, in his upturned palms. His grip was firm, unwavering as he began to straighten his arms, lifting me higher and higher until I was standing completely above his head.
I wobbled slightly, my hands flailing for balance, my stomach flipping like I was on a rollercoaster. “Oh my God!”
“You’re... wriggly,” came his dry voice from beneath my skirt.
“Sorry! I’m not a Cirque du Soleil acrobat!” I hissed.
“Steady,” he said calmly. “I’ve got you.”
And he did. Despite my awkward movements, his hands remained rock solid beneath my feet, as if I weighed nothing at all.The casual display of strength was doing dangerous things to my pulse rate.
Now I could easily reach the top of the wall, but once again, all I could think was... if he looked up...
A nervous laugh bubbled up from my chest. Here I was, trying to break into a royal court to solve my own murder, and all I could think about was whether Death was getting a peek up my skirt. And worse, part of me was excited by the thought.
“Soraya?” Rhyker prompted. “The wall?”
“Right! Yes. The wall.” I reached forward, grabbing the edge. “I’m going to pull myself up now.”
I leaned forward, trying to haul myself onto the narrow ledge. My feet kicked slightly in his hands as I struggled to find leverage, making me acutely aware of how much of my legs were now exposed. After an ungraceful scramble that involved far more grunting and wriggling than I’d have preferred, I finally managed to flop onto the top of the wall, lying flat on my stomach as I caught my breath.
“That was... interesting,” I muttered, flopping onto my back to stare at the lightning in the distance. I’d scaled a wall in a dress while Death held my feet. I deserved a medal. Or at least a snack.
