Before he knew what he was doing, Berim—for it was definitely not the actions of Ehmet—had scooped Miss Saka into his arms and was pushing his way through the pressing crowd to a quieter street off of the square.
She giggled and shrieked in protest as he marched along, but her movements did little to indicate she wanted to be put down. One hand wrapped behind his neck, her slender fingers tangling in his tousled hair. Her other was splayed across his back as she reached beneath his arm to grasp him.
He stopped before a booth selling ale and set her on her feet.
“Thank you for the escort, Berim.” She beamed up at him, eyes crinkled in delight.
“Anything for you, Miss Saka.” He winked.
They drank pint after pint after pint and meandered through the lighter crowds on the outskirts of the festivities. Hevva pointed out a few potholes that needed fixing, which he cataloged to report to his steward. He noticed a few skinny children, too slender for his tastes. Even though the nearby adults confirmed food was plentiful in town, Ehmet added that to his list as well. He’d have scouts sent to each town and village in Selwas and ask them to report back on their general wellness. Either way, he’d be increasing shipments of grains from Gramenia. The Principalities wouldn’t mind, they’d be happy for additional business.
Eventually, the duo returned to the center of the festivities to watch the fight, which was nearing its final round.
“Come on,” Saka shouted as she tightened her fingers in his and dragged him forward, weaving through the masses to get as close as possible to the action.
Ehmet was far too big for these speedy maneuvers. “Stop, stop, stop!”He tugged her back, planting his feet on the cobbles.
She barreled into him, her noggin threatening to take out a few of his teeth. But then, something miraculous happened, and she stayed put.
The crown of her snow-capped head brushed against his chest as the lady— Miss Saka tilted her face up to peer at him. Her right hand was still interlocked with his left, trapped between their bodies. She tugged her arm free, then reached up to thread her fingers through the hair at the base of his skull.
For a split second, Ehmet— Berim thought that she was going to kiss him. But she pulled his head to the side before tugging him down, and only so she could speak into his ear. Still, the innocent action sent a river of pleasure coursing to his groin,again, and he had to flex his thighs in an effort to redirect the blood flow.
“Why did we stop?”
He turned his face to reply, and it was his opportunity to nearly kiss her. Then she tipped her head to give him access to her ear, and he figured he may as well answer her question. “I don’t want to push anyone back just so we can get a good view.”
The crowd roared and swelled as the final men stepped out to begin their bout.
She cupped her hand around his ear and leaned in close. “Fine. But you better lift me up, because if I miss a single second...” Leaning away, she shook her fist at him comically with a dramatic mask of anger pulled over top of those pretty features.
Ehmet laughed, shaking his head at her antics. Then he gave her his back and squatted down. “Climb up.”
She did, leaping onto him and wrapping her long legs low around his torso. Arms slung over his shoulders, she intertwined her fingers across his chest.
To be safe, he wrapped his hands around her thighs and held firm. It took a moment for his mind to register that his fingertips were pressing into bare skin, hot and supple and soft. He groaned and moved a bit closer to the people in front of them. Her skirts had hiked up when she climbed on.
“I am Saka right now, you know? Lady H wouldnever.” She wriggled into a more comfortable position as she spoke into his ear, her lips brushing his flesh.
He nodded in response, unable to consider words at that moment.
Ehmet could not have recounted a single blocked hook, any landed punches, or even the final knockout blow, in which the underdog claimed victory. The lady catching a lift could have provided the finer details. But he was far too distracted by her warm center rocking against his lower back as she booed and cheered. Her soft breasts pressed delectably between his shoulder blades, mushed against his too-thin shirt, sliding up and down in time with her movements. When she’d loosened her grip on him to punch her fist in the air, or make a rude gesture, he’d happily tightened his own grasp on her thighs.
That fight couldn’t have ended soon enough. Ehmet thanked the gods more than a few times that he’d worn his shirt loose and untucked over the front of his breeches. When she requested to be put down, her words a hot tickle of breath against his skin, he feared he might spend right there in the street.
“I’m thirsty.” She locked her fingers with his own and once again, they were off to find a pint.
It was not long before they were quenched, and something new caught Miss Saka’s attention. A small band with stringed instruments and thumping drums played before a lively, if slightly seedy-looking pub.
“Come on,” she said, taking off backward, so magnetized to the music she couldn’t stay put a moment longer. He couldn’t hear a word that left her lush lips, but he read them anyway. Tugging him down the row, she ditched her empty pint and signaled that he should do the same.
Berim obliged.
Saka grinned as she spun to face him and grasped both of his hands in her own, leaning back as she encouraged him to spin her around in front of the establishment.
They danced on the cobbles for ages until Lady Hevva, or Saka rather, attempted to convince him that they should join in on some games with the locals.
“Maybe a two-legged race?” she pleaded.
