“Maybe so,” he’d mused, neither a confirmation nor a refusal. “You know where to find me.” He’d raised their still-entwined fingers, kissing the inside of her wrist before releasing her hand to cup her face. His hands were huge; the long, slender fingers spanning her skull, thumbs gently tracing the contours of her cheeks once more. “Perhaps our paths will cross again, sweet Silva.” She’d fairly floated to bed, still able to feel the heat of his mouth as she curled beneath the sheets.
Now she shifted in indecision, wondering if she ought to go back to the room and just forget about this silly infatuation. Silva didn’t know how to explain why she felt electricity crackle through her veins when he’d kissed her, nor why she found his mischievous eyes and somewhat terrifying smile so attractive. She was half-convinced that she hadn’t yet seen the full extent of those gleaming sharp teeth and wanted to see his smile stretch fully; wanted to feel them graze her neck and mark her skin, wanted him to swallow her down, wanted to learn more of his secrets.Madness!
She didn’t need the gift of second sight to know her grandmother would be horrified, could picture her pursed lips and disapproving head shake, but Silva of the nighttime didn’t need to care, and the indifference was intoxicating.You should go to the bar. He’ll be there eventually, and he’ll be happy to see you.The voice in her head seemed to direct her feet, and before she quite realized what she was doing, the creaking black door to The Plundered Pixie was before her.
There was an orc outside the entrance with endlessly long legs, leaning on the black-painted brick as he lit a cigarette. A tall crown of spikes moved across his head, the most impressive mohawk Silva had ever seen, not that she could say that she’d seen many. His fern green skin glowed under the overhead light, and he was shirtless beneath the black leather jacket he wore. His abdomen was taut beneath the black leather and Silva eyed him appreciatively, her eyes following the dark trail of hair that started at his navel until it disappeared into his tight leather pants.
Heat bloomed to the tips of her long ears when she pulled her gaze from the leather-encased bulge, raising her eyes to meet the tall, punkish orc’s. The light over the doorway made the numerous piercings in his pointed ears gleam, the smile that spread across his face, having watched her look him over, was amused and knowing. she dropped her head before quickly yanking the door open, putting distance between herself and further temptation.
Just as they had the previous night, several heads raised as she entered. A beefy fellow near the pool tables gave her a wolfish smile, taking two long strides in her direction before the bartender, the same from the previous evening, called out something in Orcish that made the big orc stop short. Silva felt as if a spotlight had flickered on over her head as several more sets of eyes raised in her direction at the barkeep’s guttural words: long looks and suspicious eyes, making her shiver. Scowling, the brawny orc gave her one last sidelong glare before rejoining his friends, and the moment passed.
The bartender was already pouring a glass of the sweet golden alcohol as she approached meekly, hoisting herself onto a stool at the corner as gracefully as she could, rebuffing her in his rough voice as she reached into her small clutch.
“Your money’s no good here, beauty,” he rasped, setting the glass before her and waving away her attempt to pay. “He’d have my head.”
She sipped her drink slowly, somewhat discomfited by the grizzled orc’s words, watching the crowd grow as she waited. The bar was packed and noisy, double the crowd from the previous night and Silva noticed that the same bartender seemed to have no problem taking payment from the several groups of women who’d come in—othersightseers, from the look of their revealing dresses. Her white sundress was out of place in comparison, but a lady didn’t need to advertise, she thought primly, sliding from the stool carefully before picking up the fresh glass that had been placed before her.
It was then that she saw her. At the pool table nearest the wall stood a tall orc woman, towering and muscular, covered in tattoos. Her skin was the color of soft green moss in the spring, a pristine canvas for the dozens of colorful tattoos that snaked up her seemingly endless legs. While just about every orc Silva had encountered wore their hair long, the orc woman had her black hair chopped short, shaved up at the back and sides, letting her long, purple bangs flop appealingly over her heavily-lined eye. The look she leveled on Silva was hungry, and her smile rakish.
Silva watched, transfixed as the intriguing orc bent over the pool table to line up a shot, giving the elf a clear view of her tattooed back and heart-shaped behind, encased in the shortest, tightest denim cut-offs Silva had ever seen, yet somehow they were stillentirelytoo much fabric. When the orc woman rose, she could see the tattoos continue into her black crop top, could see them ribboning down her long, well-muscled arms.
There had been a night, during that year after university—when she’d traveled overseas to study Elvish and do volunteer work, preparing her for a lifetime of community service—when dinner had turned to drinks and laughter, and the glamorous elf across the table had given her that same look. The whole point of the trip was to gain some worldly experience and mingle with other well-bred elves in her social strata, she’d told herself at the time, coming home with at least the knowledge of how soft another woman’s lips could be.
She found herself now trapped in the orc’s salacious gaze, unable to make her feet move or her head turn, and heat moved up her neck as she felt the weight of the woman’s eyes drag down her body. A familiar ripple of nerves moved down her spine as the orc approached.
“You look lost, little lamb.”
Her voice had a huskiness to it; a deep, bourbon-and-cigarettes voice with an accent like Tate’s, and Silva smiled, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu.
“Not lost. Just...deciding.”
She could feel the heat from the orc’s breath against her neck as she leaned down; heard herself gasp as a hot tongue flicked against her earlobe.
“Well, decide soon, lamby. You look good enough to eat, and I’m positively ravenous.”
♥♥♥
Lurielle gripped the table edge, desperately attempting to catch her breath. She couldn’t remember an occasion where she’d laughed this much, other than the previous night in the thermae with the same company.
“And then there he was, sitting on the stoop like he’d been waiting for me all night. Seven blocks with split pants and an empty ice cream cone, dragging a leash with no dog attached to it, and he thought he was going to get belly rubs for being such a good boy.”
“And I’ll bet that’s exactly what you did,” she wheezed, trying to imagine the gorgeous, smiling orc across from her trudging home with his boxers on display for the block and burst into a fresh round of giggles as she did so.
“Of course that’s what I did. Seven blocks and he knew how to get home all by himself! Thatisa good boy.”
She had asked how long Khash had his dog, prompting a stream of stories about the hijinks he and the big mastiff had together before he asked about her Yorkie.
“I’m assuming your little bunny rabbit wears tutus and sleeps in a princess bed? Is Lilypiddles her birth name or did she come to you with something even sweeter?”
His smile was wide and his eyes danced with mirth, and Lurielle stole a pepper off his plate in retaliation. The bands of silver around his thick tusks gleamed in the soft glow of the tea light candle on the table, and she felt her heart flutter again at the thought of how handsome he was.
“I’ll have you know she’s a bonafide killer. There was a nest of squirrels in our front yard and terrorizing them was her favorite thing to do for an entire summer. It got so bad that they ended up having to move, and now I’m paying for their therapy bills. And her name is Junie, for your information.”
It had been, once more, the nicest date she’d ever been on, a fact which dismayed as much as it delighted. He had indeed ordered the steak, insisting on her getting a cheese plate to nibble on before they shared dessert.A man who lets you eat cheese, encourages it even! This really is the dream!She found it was easy to push Tev’s disapproving cluck and her mother’s harrumph out of her head with Khash, another check in his favor.
“I like to think my ancestors are all standing around cheering every time I order a steak for dinner that I didn’t have to kill with my bare hands,” he confided once the amused server had left their table. “Wait...elves...are you a vegetarian?” She laughed as he dropped his head back with a groan. “You should have said something, I can cancel that.”
“It doesn’t bother me at all,” she assured him with a smile. “My boss is a reptilian and he brings in a plastic container of raw meat every day for lunch, and eats it with a cocktail fork.”
