Page 10 of Over the Emerald Valley
Sometime during the night,after hours of restless tossing and turning on the little lounge, Temaj grabbed his blanket and crept toward the massive bed.
The general didn’t strike him as the sort of man likely to lash out when he inevitably found Temaj had disobeyed. Either way, it was worth the risk. He couldn’t fall asleep alone, not with the sting of rejection still smarting. It felt uncomfortably close to abandonment, a feeling with which he was all too familiar and not eager to relive.
On bare feet, he tiptoed through the bedchamber. With all but one lamp put out, he could hardly distinguish the man’s sleeping form. The general lay on his side, his face turned toward Temaj, eyes closed. The steady rise and fall of his chest indicated deep sleep.
Letting his eyes adjust, Temaj stayed still and looked him over.
Solon was a rugged type, shoulders and arms corded with thick muscles, thighs as well, though they were sadly hidden beneath the silks. He wore no wig, rather his natural black hair was cut short to fall above his shoulders. His ears were big and stuck out too far, but oddly, it only added to the man’s allure. He had a handsome if somewhat squarish face, a defined jaw, high cheekbones, a straight nose, and thick eyebrows. His lips Temaj knew firsthand to be plush, demanding, warm, and soft all at once. He wouldn’t mind another taste.
That kiss had been a toe-curling delight. Unexpected, and he would say stolen, but a kiss can’t be stolen from a concubine, can it?
Besides, he’d have given the kiss freely had the choice been his to make. He liked the look of the general, liked being useful, and liked that the man so obviously wanted him, even if he refused to admit as much.
With great care not to disturb the slumbering general, Temaj climbed into the bed. One slow move at a time, he crawled into place next to him, careful not to touch, and settled on his side. There, he continued his study of the man’s features close up.
The general’s eyes were crinkled at the corners. He had sunspots on his forehead. This was the sort of man who had really tackled life. He’d have a wealth of stories to tell about the places he’d been, the battles he’d fought, and the people he’d met along the way. Of horses and pubs and ships and journeys.
Oh, what a life!
Temaj longed to run his fingers over Solon’s leathered skin, to feel for himself what a soldier’s hard work made of the body.
With a silent sigh, he kept his hands to himself and closed his eyes, hoping he was right that this man wouldn’t be quick to anger when he discovered Temaj in his bed.
* * *
Temaj awokewhen fingers closed around his wrist, and a body stirred against his.
“Plucky, you’re terrible at following directions,” the general grumbled in a gruff, early-morning voice that had no right to be so sexy.
Temaj’s face was plastered against the man’s nape. A little puddle of drool wet his lips and the general’s skin. He was ambitiously playing the big spoon to the general’s little spoon with his arm thrown haphazardly over the man’s waist.
Gods, it was nice. Warm and cozy, but he hadn’t meant to cling to the appealing stranger like a parasite, only to get some sleep.
“Are you angry?” Temaj mumbled against Solon’s brawny shoulder. He wiped away the drool.
Solon’s chest vibrated with laughter. “Would you care?”
“Well, I don’t fancy being hit, so yes. I’d care.” He said it lightly, but the general tensed and rolled over to him, eyes full of concern.
“I’d never hit you. Does someone here hit you? Does Abasi? That’s no way to treat a concubine. Horemheb won’t allow it. I won’t allow it.”
A rush of warmth filled Temaj’s chest. What would it be like to have a man like this at his side? “No, no one here has ever hit me. Abasi is kind, if somewhat peculiar. It’s been years since I’ve been struck, though it’s not something one forgets. Forgive my dramatics.”
They stared at one another. Outside their quiet bedchamber, the palace stirred to life. Sounds of servants moving around and roosters crowing filtered into the silence between them.
Temaj ran his toes along the general’s shin. “You’d avenge me, wouldn’t you? You’re the type.”
“You don’t seem to need avenging.” The general pulled his leg out of reach but kept his tone gentle. “Why are you in my bed?”
“I did try to sleep by myself. I tried for hours, but I couldn’t.”
“Afraid of the dark?” Teasing. A hint of a smile.
“Something like that.” Temaj stroked the curve of the general’s spine, pleasantly surprised the man allowed it. “May I call you Solon?”
“That’s my name, so I suppose you may. And your real name? Is it Temaj?”
“It is.”
