Page 165 of Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox
The change in Argent’s demeanor was immediate. “Like a bottled imp from the old tales? Are you certain you want to bend to my whims?”
Tsumiko wondered fleetingly if bottled imps were like genies and their lamps. But she firmly set aside her curiosity. Because Argent’s tails were shifting with his mood, taking on a seductive sway. This gift was to his liking, so she nodded. “Three wishes.”
“Very well, my lady.” He touched the comb. “I wish you to use my gift for its intended purpose.”
“You want me to comb my hair?”
He tugged her over to a bench and crowded close beside her on its seat. Nuzzling her cheek, he whispered in her ear. “I am inviting you to comb my tails.”
“You’ll let me touch them?”
“To your heart’s content. But only when we are alone.”
Pulling the nearest of his tails so it lay across her lap, she stroked the soft fur. When Argent didn’t object, she drew the comb along its length. “Like this?”
“Yes.” He nodded and nosed her temple. “Please.”
She continued this new exploration, enjoying the soft hums and sighs her attentions pulled from Argent. “You really like this,” she murmured.
“The stroking and handling of tails is a great intimacy.” His voice had deepened. “Sensitivity makes such contact highly pleasurable.”
Well! She slid her hand all the way up and around to the base of his spine and rubbed experimentally. “And this is only the first of your tails. This could take all night.”
With a low groan, Argent pulled her into a deep kiss, and she left off combing in order to slip her arms around his neck.
When he finally drew back, he also whisked his tails back out of reach. Clearing his throat, he said, “I believe couples usually take turns.”
“And this is a courting tradition?” she asked, a little breathless.
“Thegivingof a comb is part of courting. Theusingof the comb is a mate’s privilege.” He blinked at her a little hazily. “Perhaps a short break before moving on to the other tails? Otherwise, I fear I shall pounce prematurely.”
Argent stood and fussed vaguely at his clothes. She’d never seen him looking so rumpled. The effect was rather endearing. Standing as well, she asked, “Is that why you like to brush my hair?”
His eyebrows lifted. “Alas, I am found out.”
Tsumiko tried to remember exactly when hair-brushing had become such an unwavering part of their evening routine. Had he been courting her even then? “Are there other traditions for couples?”
“Dozens.” He beckoned for her to follow him toward the entrance. “Doubtless more came into fashion during my enslavement. These things tend to evolve and modulate, with each generation of each clan finding new ways to achieve old ends.”
“Could you teach me some?”
“A wholly reasonable request. Shall we alternate traditions with tails?” he offered.
“I’d like that.”
Argent accepted this with a nod, then lifted a finger to his lips. When they stepped past a vine-draped arbor, they caught Gingko. He crouched just inside the conservatory doors, ears flattened as if trying very hard not to overhear anything. He’d already arranged a stack of food trays on the walkway’s edge. Spying them, he nearly dropped a large thermos.
“Dad!” Gingko’s eyes were wide, but he was looking everywhere but at them. “S-sorry! I didn’t mean to … interrupt.”
“Your timing is good,” Argent assured. “Tsumiko needs a break, and we are both hungry.”
Gingko’s tail was firmly tucked, and a flush crept across his face.
Tsumiko’s heart went out to her friend, but she didn’t know how to dispel the tension. Argent gave her hand a small squeeze and let go, moving to stand before his son.
“Tsk. Since when are you so shy? It is only natural for bondmates to form deepening attachments.” Argent prodded Gingko’s shoulder. “You will need to get used to such things. Especially if you continue to slip into our room at all hours through the window.”
At Gingko’s strangled noise of protest, Argent actually chuckled.
