Page 86 of Tristan
He blushes.Blushes.Ladies and Gentlemen, I've done the impossible. I've caused one of the most indecent creatures of all time to blush. He didn't want me to catch him staring at me.
He clears his throat. "Why would I look at you? And did I say practice was over?"
It’s not even his best rejoinder. "Did I say I was stopping? I came to get my arrow. I'm not as good as your sister. My aim is poor," I say tugging my “stray” arrow from the tree.
"Nonsense," he scowls. "Your aim is good for a human."
"So, you were watching me."
"I was not … All right, maybe for a short time," he admits. "You’re good, Tristan. I thought you would be. Your body is perfect for archery."
"My father is the best bowman in all of Markaytia."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I prefer the sword."
"This is your best bet against an Elf. There are less factors to overcome and, of course, you can have the element of surprise."
"True."Unless I have a magic sword.
"Are you ready for lunch then?"
"I can't. I'm in the middle of practice. Haven't been dismissed yet, Warlord."
He smiles. "You are dismissed. You must get lunch for your Master, and yourself—go before you anger him."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm going."
"Tristan, wait. Come here."
When I'm closer, he pulls me to him pressing a firm kiss to mine with his soft lips. I hate how much I like him kissing me.
CHAPTER 22
Just when I’ve got used to how things work around here, everything changes. Andothair and I no longer speak as often as we used to. For starters, I’ve irritated him (husband’s ex-boyfriends can be so fickle). Honestly, it’s not like I knew he and Corrik were an item. I don’t see why I get all the flack.
Bayaden is, well he’s still Bayaden, but he’s Bayaden infatuated with Tristan and that’s different somehow. I can’t say he’s nice, but he’s softer. He still orders me around like a servant becauseI amhis servant, but I’ve become more important to him. I’ve gained status and am ignored rather than scorned or beaten; no one touches me now. Lutheran and Siagin give me looks that say they would like to have another go at me, but even they steer clear.
“What’s wrong with you?” Bayaden says from beside me.
“Nothing, I’m thinking.”
“Don’t hurt yourself.”
I try to push him with my foot; it’s like pushing stone, but he takes it as an invitation to roll so he’s half on top of me and traces my abs with his finger. He’s tender and contemplative. I’m nervous when he gets like this. He tends to admit to the things he’s feeling in thesemoments and I’d rather he didn’t. It’s less real when he says nothing and easier to pretend our relationship is the same as before.
“Tristan?”
“Yes, m’lord,” I say in a lazy accent, hoping to knock him out of his serious thoughts. It doesn’t work. He gives me an annoyed look; I clear my throat. “Sorry.”
“I want to say something to you.”
I sit up. “Don’t. Don’t say anything Bayaden, just, take me. Please?” Sex is always a good distraction with Bayaden, with any Elf for that matter.
He stares at me for a long time and if I didn’t know him better, I would think I saw a glimmer of sadness in his eyes. But I do know him better and he doesn’t get sad. In any case it’s gone by the time I’ve blinked.
“As you wish, Tristan.” He buries his face into my neck, kissing it, worshiping it and without words he gets to say what he wanted.
