Page 85 of Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox
Frustration rattled in his chest. A huge part of him was frantic to get what he craved—to bite deep, to drink deep, to plow deep.
“Your hands,” she said firmly. “If you need it, you can still hold me, but don’t let them wander.”
He clung stubbornly, but with soft words, she denied him. On some level, he might have been relieved. That she was the same. That she could not be swayed. Foxes trusted few, if any, for they understood evasion, illusion, loopholes, and lies. But Tsumiko wouldn’t resort to wiles or bend to instinct. The strength of her convictions steadied them both, and in her faithfulness he would find rescue.
Argent quietly spoke an apology against her ear.
“It’s okay. Just relax.”
Thatwas not happening anytime soon, but Argent retreated enough to hide the fact. Only to be stopped by a kiss on his cheek.
“Tsumiko?”
She asked, “Could you turn on a light, please?”
He reached for the switch that illuminated the bedside lamps and quickly dimmed them. Sliding back into the pocket of warmth at Tsumiko’s side, he met her wide-eyed look with a lift of his brows.
“What are youwearing?” she whispered.
“Precious little.”
“Oh.” She rallied somewhat. “Are you feeling better?”
Argent rejected five indelicate responses before settling on the safest answer. “No.”
“Show me your tails.”
Whether she’d meant to command him or not mattered little. It was an invitation to display. Casually sliding the blankets low around his hips, he brought out all seven and waited for her reaction.
Tsumiko finally said, “You don’t look annoyed.”
“And howdoI look?”
She shook her head. “I’m not supposed to make personal remarks about an Amaranthine’s tails.”
“I will make an exception.”
“Well, when a cat is annoyed, its tail puffs and twitches.”
He eased back into her personal space. Not looming in the proper sense, but posturing nonetheless. “I am not a cat.”
“I know.” Tsumiko smiled apologetically. “But I don’t have experience with any other kind of pet.”
Really. He nipped her ear. “I am not a pet.”
“They sway.” She made a slow, waving movement with her arm. “What does it mean when your tails sway? Oh, now they’ve gone sort of twitchy. Was it a rude question?”
“Not rude.” Argent sighed. He knew what she was trying to do. Calm him down. Calm herself down. Defuse the tension. Distract him from his failed seduction with the harmlessness of small talk. Argent shut his eyes against the humiliation. “You have all of the ignorance and curiosity of a kit, with none of the instincts.”
“So I’m allowed to ask?”
“You may ask.”
“Do you need tending?”
Argent huffed. “I thought you were interested in my tails.”
“Very much. But I can talk and tend at the same time.”
