She felt his heavy sigh as much as she heard it. A warm, gloved hand gently clasped her forearm. The orc carefully pulled her out of the car, muttering, “This just keeps getting more and more fucking complicated.”
Arm in hand, Kaz grabbed both of their bags out of the back seat and then guided her up onto the sidewalk.
The fight bled out of her as she stumbled over the curb. It was late enough to be early, and after everything, she was beginning to succumb to exhaustion and the insistent bite of pain. Despite her worry about what would happen once she was locked in, the motel room suddenly looked a lot more inviting than it had a moment ago.
A touch of a key fob to the small pad over the knob unlocked the door. The orc pushed it open and guided her inside. Flicking a finger in front of the sensor by the door, he activated the lamps on either side of the queen-sized bed in the center of the room. There wasn’t much else to speak of: a small feed screen mounted on the wall, a little wooden dresser with a pad of stationary on top beside an intercom unit, and a door that presumably led to a bathroom.
The floor was covered in dark, speckled carpet and the furnishings were tasteful but obviously worn. It was a cute room, and when Kaz crouched down to activate the heating unit beneath the window, it actually feltcozy.She didn’t even realize how cold she was until a blast of warm air filled the room.
That done, he walked over to the bed and dropped her suitcase on the mattress. “Grab your pajamas. I’m going to start the shower for you.”
“Start the… I don’t need you to start the shower for me.” Atria eyed the orc’s broad back as he moved toward the bathroom with mounting disbelief. “You’re just checking to see that there isn’t a window I can crawl out of, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he answered, like that was a completely normal thing to say. He opened the door, but before he stepped into what looked like the smallest bathroom known to man, he warned, “And if you don’t get your clothes out, I’ll go do it for you. Don’t push me, princess.”
Atria gaped at his back.
She hadn’t always been treated with the most respect since she abandoned her vows — from the scientific community, at least — but she’d very rarely experienced someone outrightorderher to do something.
For a moment, she heavily considered refusing him, but as the sound of the shower made its way to her, she was forced to reconsider.
Atria had grown up in a Sanctuary where, historically speaking, clothing was optional. She was an empath who craved touch. Her mother was a world-renowned priestess who used the carnal arts to soothe even the deepest emotional wounds. Her brother was quickly following in their mother’s footsteps. Suffice it to say, modesty wasn’t a friend of hers.
She wasnotafraid of the orc seeing her underwear.
All the same, she didn’t exactly want him to, either.
Unzipping her suitcase wasn’t the easiest thing in the world when she had her hands cuffed together, but she managed it. Luckily she didn’t have a lot to sift through. Atria traveled light because she lived light. Raised in the Sanctuary, where everything belonged to everyone, did not make her particularly attached to objects.
She didn’t even technically have a home. Most nights she crashed in the lab or at Ruby’s house in the Goodeland. While she did periodically rent a room in a decent apartment located in downtown Seattle, she very rarely found cause to be there.
The contents of her suitcase were nearly everything she had to her name. The rest — keepsakes and such — lived in a box in the back of Ruby’s walk-in closet.
Snatching her nightgown from one of the built in compartments, she balled it up in her hands just as she heard the orc stomp out of the bathroom.
She whirled around. “Are you expecting me to be able take a shower with my hands—”
The words died in her throat with a pitiful little squeak.Oh, Glory save me.
The orc had emerged from the bathroom naked from the waist up. He stood in front of the doorway like it was no big deal that he was shirtless, his long black hair gathered in a messy knot, and his green skin gleaming with water. Though he’d removed his clothing, a black bolt gun holster was slung loosely over his shoulders, somehow emphasizing their enormous width.
He’d clearly rinsed himself off after stripping his muddy shirt and jacket, and she was…struck.
He has tattoos,she thought numbly.Of course he has tattoos.
The entire width of his chest was blacked out in a downward chevron. It was a solid band that started beneath his collarbones and fell to just above his nipples. Two circles of black ink fell below it on his heavily muscled arms: one around each bicep, and another on the thickest part of his forearms.
She knew that many orcish clans wore unique tattoos, but she had no way of knowing what clan he belonged to, or if they were clan tattoos at all. He looked like the kind of man who would get them just for fun — and to make him seem even scarier than he already was.
And hewasscary. So why did the sight of him shirtless, a little damp, and scowling at her make heat pool in her stomach? That heat only got more intense when he prowled closer, his body moving with a sort of liquid grace that called to mind a big cat, or some other predator eager to eat her up.
“Shower’s warm,” he muttered, tossing his soiled jacket and shirt onto the dresser carelessly.
Two more steps brought him to her. His claws, still covered by his plain black gloves, hooked on the device between her wrists. He pressed his thumb against the flat plastic, saying, “There’s only one window in there and it’s barely big enough to put your head through, so don’t even think about trying it. I don’t want to have to pry you out of it with soap or some shit. I need you to be good for me for five fucking minutes while you shower. Understand?”
“Be good for you?” Atria arched a brow, hoping that he would not be able to somehow tell how fast her heart had begun to race. “What am I? Your dog?”
“No,” he answered, “but youaremine.”
