But he is. He absolutely is. I lean in close, until my lips almost brush his and he shifts forward like he’s going to meet me for a kiss.
But I draw back an inch. “Liar,” I whisper.
He falls back on the blankets, and the straw rustles. “All right, fine.” It’s dark, but I could swear he’s blushing. “You know I have no practice with courtship. And I’m glad they were kind. Truly. I want you to find friends here.”
I can’t decide if this is adorable or hilarious. Either way, I’m fully awake now. “You have no reason to be jealous. All we talked about was archery.”
“Ugh.” He rubs his hands over his face. “That’sworse.”
It’s so unexpected that I burst out laughing. “You’re jealous that they taught me aboutweaponry?”
He drags his hands down to look up at me. “Maybe.”
Adorable. He’s adorable. “Would now be a poor time to mention that I had an entire lesson in fletching from Kutter?”
He narrows his eyes. “Now you’re teasing me. Kutter doesn’t speak any Syssalah atall.”
“I’m not! Sephran helped. Look.” I pick up a few pieces of hay and blow it through my fingers, miming a breezy day. “Wind,” I pronounce carefully in Emberish, then repeat it in Syssalah. “Yes?”
Tycho rises up on his elbows, watching me warily, like I’m trying to trick him. But he nods. “Yes.”
I hold up a hand, measuring a distance of about an inch between my thumb and forefinger. “Short,” I say in Emberish, then whistle and make a fast motion with my hand like an arrow. “Good for wind.”
He stares at me.
“You want to hear more?” I grin and widen my fingers to two inches. “Long,” I say. “Good for—”
“Silver hell.” He grabs hold of my waist and flips me onto my back, and it’s so quick and unexpected that it steals my breath—especially when he lands straddling my waist, his hands seizing my own, intertwining our fingers. I’m laughing, ready to tussle, but his mouth finds mine, and he draws at my tongue in a way that has me wanting to unlace his trousers again.
When he finally pulls away, he’s a bit breathless. So am I.
“Don’t you want to hear the rest of my lesson?” I tease.
He winds a hand through my hair and pulls taut, then shifts against me until I feel the full weight of his body. I inhale sharply, my teasing forgotten.
“What lesson?” he says against my ear.
“Make me forget it,” I whisper, the words rough and low.
The words are hot and daring, meant to be playful, but Tycho goes still. He gazes down at me, his eyes warm and dark. For an instant, I worry that I’ve pushed too far, that the moment will snap again, that he’ll pull away.
But Tycho gives me a nod. “As you say.”
With that, his hands slide under my tunic, baring my abdomen, then my chest. The cool night air finds my skin, and it’s so quick and unexpected that I suck in a breath, but then he leans down and draws my nipple right between his teeth. I cry out, arching against him, but I’m pinned.
My hands reach for him, seeking skin, but he’s already moving, his weight shifting deliciously. He’s straddling my thighs now, and I realize he’s tugging at my tunic, pulling me upright again, dragging it over my head. I grab hold of his vest, tugging at the lacings, intending to undress him just as efficiently.
His hands close over mine, pulling them away, gently pushing me back against the blanket. It leaves him hovering over me, his brown eyes staring into mine.
“I’m supposed to be makingyouforget about fletching lengths and arrow speed,” he says ruefully.
“What’s an arrow?” I say.
He smiles—but then sadness flickers through his eyes. “Ah, Jax.”
Oh no. I’m not losing him to this again. “Wait, I’m starting to remember. Did Kutter say that wide fletching was for—”
He dives down to kiss me, and for all his fierce strength, there’s always something so . . .tenderabout the way his mouth moves against mine. He pulls at my lips and draws my tongue into his mouth like it’s something he wants to savor.When he frees my wrists, I slide my hands up his jaw to twist my fingers through his hair.
