The Guild (35 page)

Read The Guild Online

Authors: Jean Johnson

Tags: #Love Story, #Mage, #Magic, #Paranormal Romance, #Relems, #Romance, #Science Fiction Romance

BOOK: The Guild
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“Hey, not your fault,” Alonnen said, shrugging and spreading his arms as he turned to face her while walking backward. “We try new things, and sometimes they work okay, sometimes they work great, and sometimes they fail. Hopefully not spectacularly—and this time wasn’t a disaster—but you’ll never know until you try. We can try the syrup another time, but for now . . . one hot bath, coming up.”

Rexei rose and put the cap back on the jar; it was still perfectly good jelly, and she would be having toasted bread with her meal when breaking her fast tomorrow. Pulling the old sheet off the couch, she wiped the smear off her breast, then bundled up the fabric and set it on a chair. Big Momma’s had members of the Launderers
Guild—a sub-chapter of the Servers Guild—on staff who would take the sheet and the other linens, bleach and scrub everything, and hand it all off to the room cleaners to remake the beds and so forth.

She had done something similar in the temple, stripping priests’ beds and remaking them with fresh linens once a week, and dumping the dirty linens and velvet clothes into sacks to be taken to a nearby Laundry guildhouse. Here, though, she didn’t have to do any of that if she didn’t want; the staff were paid well, based on what the brothel owner charged for these rooms. Since this wasn’t an emergency, Alonnen had elected to pay for an entire night in one of these rooms for the two of them back when they had arrived at midday.

Fresh linens, a hot bath, scented soaps . . . Joining him in the alcove, grateful the blinds had been pulled low, Rexei investigated the low table of soft soap pots. Picking one with a spicy smell to it, she added a fancy, soft sea sponge, and held them in one arm. The other, she used to test the water splashing from the faucet into the oversized copper basin. A nod let Alonnen know he had picked a good temperature. She offered him the jar for a sniff and received a nod in return.

Pleased at her choice, Alonnen let her set the jar and sponge on the broad flared rim at the head of the tub, then climbed in and assisted her over the edge. Both sank down into the heat with little hisses and contented sighs, one at each end of the oval basin. Eyeing her, he contemplated her relaxed nudity, then tapped her hand and flicked his fingers. “C’mere,” he ordered, opening his arms. “Put your back to my chest, and let’s cuddle.”

Blushing, she smiled and moved. “You really are a very . . . touchy . . . person. As in, you like to touch people. Aren’t you?”

“Very much so,” he agreed, parting his legs to make room for her to settle between them. His chest was still a little bit sticky from the jelly attempt, but the basin was quite deep, allowing the water to rise up almost high enough to soak the elderberries away.
“I feel better when I’m touching someone I like. Happier. It’s like . . . it’s like making a wordless connection, deep with trust, and abiding in affection and caring.

“And when they touch me, when they reach out to me and I don’t have to start it? Then I
know
they care about me.” Gently wrapping his arms around her ribs, he nuzzled his jawline against her steam-dampened hair. “I love sex, don’t get me wrong—and don’t deny either of us the pleasure of it,” he teased lightly, “but just a simple, honest, cuddlesome hug conveys as much love or more. Actually,
more
. I could get a dozen women to grease my piston with their hands, simply because of my rank and their own desire to rise in the ranks somehow. Hell, a dozen men. But a hug? That’s something special.”

Rexei grunted, dropping her head back onto his shoulder. “Ugh . . . why do you tell me this when I’m facing
away
from you? And in a bathtub? If I tried to turn around now to hug you, it’d be all awkward elbows and mangling knees and unwelcome bruises for both of us.”

He chuckled and squeezed her. “We’ll have plenty of time for hugs. Right now, I’m going to enjoy the heat of this bath a little bit more, then help you scrub the elderberry preserves off our hides. Then . . . I’m going to clean your cute little bottom.”

“My bottom is not little,” she muttered. “My hips are a little bit too wide for someone trying to pretend to be a boy. I have to wear long, baggy tops to hide it.”

“The part I’m interested in is cute and little,” he asserted, sliding a hand down to her hip. “These lush bits are lovely for grabbing on to, but it’s the little cog-star between your cute nethercheeks to which I’m referring.”

His words reminded her of what they were going to do. “I, uh . . . heard it can be painful. Um, using that one.”

“It can be, if you don’t go slowly, don’t take time to gently
loosen it, and definitely if you don’t use any pomade or such,” Alonnen admitted. “The other way is faster, easier, and better-feeling, but it carries the long-term risk of babies.” Shifting his hand to her belly, he rested it there for a moment, then hugged her around the ribs. “As much as part of me wants a couple of little Rexeis running around—boy or girl, doesn’t matter—the greater part of me knows we still have some serious problems to clear up before we can go that far.”

She nodded, turning her head just enough so that her forehead caressed the side of his jaw. “You’re right, we shouldn’t. And . . . um . . . well, I trust you to take your time, go slow, and . . . um . . . pomade. We should have grabbed the jar of pomade.”

“Yes and no; it might be helpful to clean up a little, first,” he told her, and slipped his other hand between her nethercheeks for a subtle tickle.

Sucking in a startled breath, Rexei squirmed a little in surprise. She forced herself to stop and relax. “Wait . . . Is my shoulder blade
sticky?

“You’re the one who leaned against me without cleaning off the jelly, first,” he teased lightly.

“Fine. Just for that,
you
have to scrub my back,” she mock ordered. “And anywhere else I want.”

Without a word, he reached behind him, groped for the soft yet scratchy tuft of sea sponge, gently soaked it in the hot water—and applied the sopping thing against her head and face in several rapid, gentle pats, splattering water everywhere. Yelping and spluttering, Rexei twisted around and splashed at him in affront. Since he was laughing at the time, he coughed from a mouthful of liquid, but she didn’t show much mercy when she splashed him again, so he splashed her back.

The water fight was somewhat short; very noisy with shrieks, shouts, and laughter; very wet; and glorious fun. When it ended, it
did so because Rexei slipped and splashed face-first against him, breasts to chest, her legs straddling one of his. Just like that, the playful mood between them snapped amorous.

This time, she didn’t wait for him to make the first move. Gripping the rim of the tub for leverage, Rexei pulled herself up the last two inches and claimed his mouth. The shift in position allowed his manhood to slide along her belly and nudge between her thighs. Aroused, she parted her legs and straddled his hips, never quite ending the kiss, though their lips parted for fractions of a second here and there.

Wrapping his arms around her, Alonnen held her close while they kissed. Eventually, he urged her higher. Nibbling on her neck, tasting the little water droplets that clung to her collarbone, he sunk just slow enough so that she straddled his waist, bringing her small breasts into the range of his lips.

As before—as with every time—the moment his mouth brushed her skin, she shivered. The moment he licked, she shuddered. And the moment he suckled, Rexei moaned, swamped by the pleasure his simple touch evoked. A shift of his hands curved them under her rump for support, allowing him to increase the lovemaking he applied to her chest.

Her breasts were so sensitive, she was flushed and panting with pleasure before she realized what his fingers were doing. When she did, Rexei gasped. Two of them—not just one, but two—had slipped into her . . . and they were . . . !

Before she could do more than tense, he pulled his mouth off her nipple with a smacking kiss and murmured, “There, all the jelly’s gone. Or would you rather I used soap?”

His fingers wiggled impudently just inside her cog-star, ruining any chance of a coherent reply. Eyes wide, Rexei looked down at him. “That . . . That feels . . .”

“Yes?” Alonnen asked her, smirking. “It feels . . . how?”

“Disturbingly good,” she confessed, blushing. It did. It was embarrassing, but it did. He had slipped two fingers into her netherhole, a spot on her body far more associated with refreshing rooms than bedrooms, and . . . and she was enjoying it. Rexei had heard from several sources over the years that it could be pleasurable, but she hadn’t been completely sure it would indeed be so. Now, she knew.

“Well, the other way’s even better, but we make do with what we have,” Alonnen told her. “Now, if you can reach the soap behind my head and find the sponge, we’ll continue cleaning up . . . and then have lots of fun getting dirty all over again.”

His grin was difficult to resist. Complying, Rexei stretched past him . . . and found her nipple nibbled by his lips even as her fingers closed on the jar of lightly scented soft soap. It wasn’t easy to concentrate, but she found the sponge as well, groping through the water. Applying one to the other, she . . . forgot what she was supposed to do when his free hand slipped between their bellies and stroked that little nub between her legs. Forgot in favor of trembling and moaning, overwrought by pleasure.

His chuckle grounded her. Remembering her task, Rexei started scrubbing his shoulders and chest with the soap . . . and when he wiggled his fingers in her fundament some more, swiped a blob of lather onto the tip of his long, pointed nose. She wasn’t intimidated by the narrowing of those hazel eyes, however impudent her “attack” might have been . . . but the alcove soon rang with shrieks of laughter and the floor did get a bit wetter as he retaliated with tickling and splashing and snatching at the sponge to scrub her from nose to toes, too.

When it ended in breathless grins, they finished lathering a few missed spots, then rinsed carefully so they could climb out. Alonnen stopped Rexei from trying to use the damp toweling sheets to mop up the water on the floor, however. Instead, he held
out one hand, flicked his fingers in a circle, and gathered up some of the dampness with a simple, wordless spell. Her look of surprise made him smile.

“You can’t work in the Lubrication Guild without learning at least
something
about cleaning up liquid messes,” he joked. A pass of his hand guided the bobbing, head-sized globule of liquid into the tub, where it joined the rest of the water in swirling down the drain. It wasn’t the only puddle on the floor, but it was a good start.

The mention of his alternate guild’s name made her blush. It also made her retort, “I’m not planning on spilling any of the pomade.”

His eyes gleamed with wicked humor. “Neither am I. Go fetch it to the bed, will you? I’ll join you as soon as I’ve cleaned this all up.”

Nodding, she retreated to the larger portion of the room. She didn’t go straight to the table, though; instead, she detoured to the iron stove and used the tongs to add a few more coals, ensuring the room wouldn’t grow cold anytime soon. Only then did she move to fetch the jar. Unlike the jelly, the contents of the plain container were a lot more liquid than viscous. Curious as to what it smelled like, Rexei worked on twisting off the stiffly screwed-on lid. It didn’t come off until after her fourth or fifth try, when she had reached the side of the largest piece of furniture in the room.

Like the previous brothel bed one floor below, this one had clean, bleached sheets, layers of blankets, and a mound of feather-stuffed pillows braced against the headboard. Sinking onto the edge of the equally feather-stuffed mattress, she carefully pulled off the metal cap and sniffed at the contents. The slightly oily smell, she expected. The hint of mint, however, she had not. Dabbing a fingertip in the translucent white liquid proved it to be quite slick, to the point that Rexei was not sure she wanted to touch the smooth glass with that hand again.

She looked around, but with no good place to wipe it off, she
gave up and scrubbed it onto her stomach. Once her hand was clean, she was free to set down the jar and lid on the nightstand. Then she rose and pulled the covers back a bit, so that they would be on the soft linens instead of the scratchy woolens.

Only then did she notice that Alonnen had moved to rummage through the pack he had brought, now placed on the bench at the foot of the bed. But not to get out any spare clothes he had brought, no. Instead, she had a glimpse of something metallic and silvery. Noticing her curious look, he quickly tucked it behind his back and gave her a disarming smile.

“What are you hiding?” she asked, not fooled by his charm.

“A pleasant little surprise,” he demurred, moving to join her. “You’ll like it.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “What are you
hiding
, Alonnen?”

Sighing, Alonnen brought his arm back around. Clasped in his palm and resting along his forearm, the awkwardly shaped object took her a few moments to recognize. The long, gently tapered cylinder had a bent arm sticking out from the flat end, and a push button . . .

Oh.
She knew very well what that was, even though she didn’t own one herself. Cheeks hot, she blinked at it, then at him. “You bought a
crankman
?”

“It was my late fiancée’s,” he confessed, “and no one bothered to claim it after she passed, so it’s now mine. I, uh, don’t use it often, but . . . Um. Here, let me show you another bit of magic.”

Muttering under his breath, he gripped the smooth cylinder in one hand, pressed the push-through button just below the crank with the other . . . and magic made the curved handle spin. She could hear the gear-teeth clattering faintly, rapidly inside the device as he wound its one-way spring, and she covered her overheated cheeks. He was using a
spell
to wind the device. One clearly tailored to this specific object.
That
was what made her blush. Rexei
felt downright inadequate in her knowledge of such things—she could hide herself from a
God
if need be, but . . . everyday uses for spells? And for this particular use?

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