Page 83 of The Orc's Thief
I fold the letter again and tuck it safely in my saddlebag, where it won’t get wet even if it pours on us. As much as I love the gold I nicked from my traveling companion, this piece of paper is now the most precious of my possessions, and I don’t know what to do about that.
Arlon hasn’t come back yet, which means he’s likely bathing in a stream somewhere. The thought spurs me into action—I’m filthy from a day’s ride, my riding pants splattered with mud, my shirt wrinkled and less than fresh. I pull out a washcloth and the soap I stole from Arlon from my bag and set to washing myself.
I shrug off my jacket and toe off my dirty boots, then shove my pants down my legs and hang my clothes out to dry beside the fireplace. Arlon will be back any moment now, so I quickly shed my shirt and untie my stays, then scrub myself with the warm water from the kettle. The soap smells like him, and I inhale the sweet scent deeply, then curse as my body reacts instinctively. My nipples harden, both from the cold and the memory of how he touched me last night—and again this morning. When I reach into my underwear to wash between my legs, I shiver as I encounter the slickness there.
A choked sound from behind me has me whirling around, and I find Arlon standing in the doorway, shirtless, the laces of his pants untied, the damp bundle of his clothes tucked under one arm. His hair is tied up in a bun, and he looks magnificent, his features cast in sharp detail by the flickering firelight.
I go to reach for my shirt to cover myself, but Arlon steps forward and closes the front door behind him.
“Don’t,” he rasps. “Let me look at you.”
I release a shuddering breath, but I lower my arm and straighten my shoulders. “All right.”
He dumps his clothes onto the rickety table and closes the distance between us. “Tessa…I think you should brew that tea now.”
The tension between us breaks as I giggle, but he only looks slightly wounded at my reaction.
“Oh, you were serious?” I glance at the dusty space. “Arlon, there’s no bed in here.”
“I don’t need a bed to make you feel good.”
He cups my face with both hands and kisses me, hard. The heat of him is incredible, so I wrap my arms around his neck and let him press me to his chest, so we’re skin to skin. I give myself over to the kiss because it feels as natural as breathing—there’s no pretense, no holding back.
When Arlon breaks the kiss, I sway slightly before finding my balance again.
“Do you want me to make a bed, Tessa?” he asks, his voice a rumbling growl.
I search his face, wondering if he means it, then nod quickly. “All right. You make the bed, I’ll brew the tea.”
He presses another quick kiss to my lips, as if he can’t help himself, then grabs an ax from his pack and slips out through the door. I’m left standing half-naked in front of the fireplace, wondering what I’ve just agreed to. With a sigh, I pad over to our gear, dig out a tin cup from Arlon’s bag, and add a heaping spoonful of the herbal mixture we picked up at the apothecary today. Steam curls up as I pour the boiling water from the kettle, and I dunk the floating leaves with a spoon, impatient for them to steep.
How long does the tea have to brew? The herbalist only said to drink it daily, but surely there’s a proper way…
Arlon stomps back into the house, carrying an armful of short fir branches. He arranges the bundle on the floor and leaves again, sending me a heated glance as he goes. I resist the urge to put on a shirt. If he’s bare-chested while venturing out and carrying prickly branches, I can bear the slight chill that still lingers in the room. Instead, I pick up the cup and take a careful sip of tea, blowing on it first to avoid scorching my mouth.
By the time Arlon brings in the third armful of bedding, the tea is almost gone, and I wonder whether I should be feeling any effect at all, or if it’s all invisible magic working in my body. I think of why we need the tea in the first place and squeeze my legs together, startled at the effect of a mere thought.
When he appears at the door again, this time bearing a bundle of dried fern, I walk to the entrance as he’s strewing it on top of the fir clippings and firmly shut the door.
“I think that’s enough bedding.” I walk over to where he’s crouched and hand him the first of the blankets. “Thank you for making this.”
He stands and shakes out the blanket, then lays it over the lot. “And did you complete your part?”
“You know I did.” I motion at the empty cup on the table. “Now, are you done?”
Smirking, Arlon takes another blanket and adds it to the first. “I need to make sure my mate is comfortable.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Right now, she’s very uncomfortable because she’s getting cold.”
“Hmm.” He steps in and places his hands on my waist, skimming his warm palms over my skin. “We can’t have that.”
I rise on my tiptoes to kiss him. “How are you so much warmer than me?”
His body radiates heat, so I wrap my arms around his waist and press myself to him. My nipples harden at the touch. When he palms my ass and lifts me off the floor to hold me closer, I shiver at the soft scrape of his chest hair against my sensitive flesh.
“I’ve been thinking about this for days,” he admits as he kisses my neck, my jaw, and the spot beneath my ear that has me gasping for breath. “I imagined every possible way we could come together, and yet I didn’t think it would be like this.”
“On the floor of a dusty cottage in the middle of the wilderness?” I laugh against his lips. “Me neither.”
