“Hey, some guys like that. Don’t be ashamed. Screams are sexy; if I had a chick here to hook up with, I’d be all for it, but I’ve got blue balls and no time to rub one out.”
“Ew!”
“What, you had a brother?”
“My brother was… not like most men. He never mentioned his sex life.”
Tristen frowns. “Well, the guys talk about sex. All the time. So get used to it.”
I bite my cheek. “Titus does?” Jealousy makes my stomach swell.Stop. You hooked up; you each have a past.
Tristen rubs his jaw. “He… was discreet. Always has been. It’s more me, Nero, and Ember.”
“Oh,” I reply with less confidence than I had a minute ago. “Let’s go get Titus. You and I should be in on these plans.”
“It’s about time.” Tristen pushes off the wall with a Cheshire grin. “I thought you had become dick-whipped.”
“Hey!” I slap his arm, but he laughs.
“I know you, Selene. You don’t do as you’re told, so I’ve been eagerly waiting for you to tell me to cause trouble. Fuck Titus for ordering us both here! You can fuck him; I’ll just annoy him.” He winks. “Let’s go see what he and Adrian have planned.”
“So now you’re going to do as I say?” I cross my arms.
“When it benefits me, yes. Make no mistake, you’re not leaving my side. But first,” he looks me up and down, “I think you should change.”
Shit. I’m still in my sleeping dress. I hurry back inside, grabbing my leather training uniform, but silk catches my eye. Racks of dresses women crave and men adore fill my closet.
Does Titus like silk?
Reaching, I run my fingers down the smooth material. I want to look pretty for Titus, but I also don’t want to appear weak. He’s witnessed me only in training attire for weeks.
I grab silk pants and put them on. The material is cool and soft. I find a matching top; the high collar rests against my collarbone, keeping my mate mark tucked carefully away. I put my leather belt around my hips, with the dagger on my side warming the silk against my outer thigh.
There’s not enough time to brush out the knots in my hair, so I quickly twist it into a bun. I find a mirror. Ugh! I slap my cheeks to add a blush. I step back and nod approvingly at my image.
Tristen raises himself onto his elbows. He made himself at home on my bed, closing his eyes for all of five minutes. “Silk and daggers,” Tristen comments as he combs his hair with his fingers. “I like it.”
“Ready?”
“Whips and chains?” He bounces off the mattress like a child.
I halt. “What?”
“That’s a no, then.”
“You seriously think about sex all the time, don’t you?”
“Not all the time. I think about blood, guts, and glory, then having sex after.”
“So all the time, since sex is the end goal,” I say flatly.
Tristen’s face lights up. “I have a healthy sex imagination, but life is lacking,” he groans. “We’re always fighting. We never stay in towns long, so I have no chance of a relationship.” He pauses and searches the hall before we enter it.
“You want one?” I guess.
“I don’t know,” he sighs. “Sometimes it looks nice; other times, I think freedom is better.” He slips his hand onto his sword and then opens the door to the courtyard. Once hedetermines we’re safe, we proceed. His eyes take a moment and look up at the sky with a deep, painful longing.
“Maybe you’ll find a mate.”
