Sealed with a Kiss

by Ariana Nash

  “No.”

  “That’s what I thought.” He touched another, a shorter sword this time, and danced his fingers over the handle. “And yet you really don’t like me.”

  Eroan huffed a dismissive laugh. The male had been here a few hours and had taken umbrage at Eroan’s cold shoulder? Could he really be that self-centered?

  “Or are you this much of an asshole to everyone?” Trey glanced over. The smile, sitting crookedly on his lips, belied his words and turned them into more of a suggestive tease. As though he were daring Eroan to admit it.

  Eroan studied this riddle of a male. A stranger, really, but he’d always been drawn to mysteries. A body made for manual work, and yet he delivered messages, so he had to have the stamina to trek for days. He wore the tattoos of the nomadic tribes, and those were just the ones wrapped around his biceps. He likely had more.

  A curious one, this messenger. And he still hadn’t answered why he was looking for Eroan. If Eroan continued to be cold, the messenger would probably walk right out that door and be gone in the morning. Something in that thought had a small flutter of anxiety shortening his breath.

  “If I came off as an asshole, I apologize. That wasn’t my intention.”

  “So, then, it wasn’t me?” Trey leaned against a table and folded his arms.

  Eroan looked at the dagger in his hands. Its twin he’d tucked into his belt. Now the adrenaline and his anger at being interrupted were wearing off. He felt other sensations creep in. Sensations like being hyper-aware of the male’s position by that table, how he stretched one leg out and bent the other, presenting the kind of semi-relaxed pose that invited friendly conversation. The male’s breathing was slow and calm, nothing like Eroan’s current panting. Eroan’s thoughts had latched onto it all like he’d pinned the location of his prey in his mind before stalking it.

  Eroan knew only one thing: assassins weren’t supposed to be distracted by messengers. Or anyone. Perhaps he should have stuck with being an asshole. “Did you want something or are you just here to watch?”

  “I would like that.”

  “You want to watch?”

  “If you don’t mind?”

  He’d sparred in front of students, but when he practiced, he liked to do so alone. He’d never had anyone watch him before. The rebuttal sat on his tongue but stayed unspoken, mostly because a little sliver of excitement had tightened his chest. By Alumn, was he shy? No, that was a ridiculous thought. He wasn’t some green elf fresh out of training.

  “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Trey pushed off the table. “I can leave.”

  “No, it’s fine.”

  The male stopped and looked over, doubt clouding his eyes.

  “It’s… It’s fine, really.” He pulled the second blade free, tossed both in the air and caught them again. “Just don’t go sneaking up on me again. You might get hurt.” Eroan hadn’t meant it to sound like a promise, but it had sure come out like one.

  Trey’s dark eyes drank in the threat. His lopsided smile ticked into his cheek. He settled against the table once more and watched.

  This time, when Eroan fell into the rhythm, his skin tingled. Trey’s gaze never left, and at some point, the messenger’s smile fell away, making way for a stern intensity that had Eroan’s heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with exercise. But even under Trey’s gaze, the sweep of movement soon called to him, taking him far away from the room, the village, to somewhere only he knew, somewhere cold, somewhere harsh, somewhere he feared he might one day be trapped in. There was another there, in the dark, with eyes of green—

  Trey was in front of him. Eroan stumbled, about to lash out with words. Trey’s hand cupped Eroan around the back of the head, and the messenger pulled. His soft mouth clamped over Eroan’s and a dart of lust shot through Eroan so fast, so real, he gasped and shoved, then staggered back, needing space, needing… something. He wiped at his mouth, stunned to find his lips tingling like the rest of him.

  “Shit. I’m… I… I misread you. I’m… That was…” Trey blushed and rubbed at the back of his neck, and all Eroan could think, all he could see, was the male’s mouth, and how he ached all over to feel that sudden, all-consuming lust again. Because it had never—never—been like that before. “It’s a good thing I’ll be gone in the morning,” the messenger mumbled.

  Eroan dropped the daggers where he stood and, in a step, had his hand in Trey’s hair, and damn if the male didn’t freeze, lips parted, open and inviting. Eroan wet his own lips with the tip of his tongue and held himself still. Trey was panting too now, and that only made the violent desire he’d sparked alive in Eroan a hundred times worse. Or better. He couldn’t make sense of the rambling nonsense in his head.

  He brushed his lips against Trey’s. The messenger gasped. The touch was tiny, barely there at all, but it burned Eroan’s mouth in a way that made him want more. He darted his tongue out and tasted the stranger, quick and strong. Trey shuddered, and Eroan bit into his own bottom lip to keep from moaning out the sudden want riding him. Somewhere in all of this, he’d gotten achingly hard. As he shifted a step closer, layering himself against Trey, a familiar nudge of Trey’s obvious arousal rubbed against his hip and Eroan had to reel himself back from grinding against him like a damned animal. He had more control than this...

  He couldn’t move. If he moved, this wouldn’t stop. He wasn’t sure he could stop it anyway. Fast on the trail of that thought followed the realization he didn’t want this to stop. Trey ran his tongue along his top lip and sealed a long, lazy, kiss over Eroan’s mouth, stoking his blood higher.

  Sweet Alumn, this stranger was made of forbidden magics to do this to him.

  Eroan dropped his head back, and Trey’s warm, hot mouth trailed down his jaw to his neck. His tongue swirled, and lust darted straight to Eroan’s arousal, making it twitch against the inside of his pants. Delicious friction momentarily emptied out his mind.

  Eroan caught Trey’s jaw, stopping those torturous kisses, and looked the male in the eyes. He wanted to tell him he’d never felt this before, he’d never been with a male before, never even kissed another male. He’d had lovers, he’d touched himself imagining dreams, but this wasn’t a dream, and Eroan wasn’t entirely sure if any of this was right. But Trey’s wide, avid gaze, made it so that none of that seemed to matter.

  He backed Trey against the table, teasing his open, hungry mouth as he ran his hands down the male’s waist. Eroan nipped at the messenger’s chin and spread his hand against the bulge in his pants, folding his palm and fingers around his erection. Trey arched into him like Eroan had plucked on a string and made him dance to the sweet music of desire. The male braced his arms against the table behind him and lifted his head. With his eyes closed, those dark lashes settled on his face. He panted through pink, open lips. Eroan had never seen a male so aroused, so close. He wanted to make him pant harder, wanted to make him spill his seed for him. He wanted to make the male writhe and beg. The intensity of it, the madness of it, it was almost too much.

  Trey’s eyes fluttered open. He sighed out and suddenly cupped Eroan’s face. “Don’t think…”

  “It’s just…” I’ve never done this before.

  Trey’s mouth was on his again, and Eroan’s thoughts tumbled like they did when he practiced the Order moves. Like he could fall into the moment and disappear inside of it.

  “I’ve got you,” Trey whispered, making it sound like a promise, like nothing Eroan could do would be wrong. His thumb stroked the corner of Eroan’s mouth, and Trey looked deeper into his eyes. “I can blow your mind, Eroan. You just have to stop being afraid.”

  “I’m not afraid.” His barriers came down, slamming into place. He stepped back and looked around him, at the racks, the walls, remembering where he was. “This…” What was he thinking? He ran his hand over his hair and pulled at the ponytail, flicking it over his shoulder. This was a sacred place, and he’d let this messenger distract him from that.


  Trey let his head fall. When he looked up, some of that dark hair Eroan had dislodged from its braid had fallen over his face. He rolled his lips together as though savoring something he couldn’t have. “You didn’t know, did you?”

  Was it that obvious? Was his fear so easily read on his face? “I can’t do this here.” He picked up the daggers and set them back on the rack, then reached for his preferred daggers and jacket. It was just a kiss, just an experiment. It didn’t mean anything. Like all the other fumbles, just a bit of fun.

  “Or anywhere?”

  Eroan ignored him and headed for the door.

  “I’ll be gone in a few hours, and you’ll never know…” Trey called, stopping Eroan in his stride. “If that’s what you want, that’s fine, but isn’t this the best way to find out?”

  Eroan shrugged his jacket on. The messenger would be gone in the morning. If this—whatever this was—turned out to be nothing more than a madness he needed to be sated, then wouldn’t it be better to find out with someone outside the village? Someone he didn’t have to face every day? His people loved to talk and any dalliances with a respected member of the Order would be the gossip of the village square within hours. Order assassins didn’t do relationships. But that didn’t matter with this stranger.

  Trey circled around in front of him and swept his hair back, tucking it behind his tipped ear. “Are you really going to let me go without finding out what it is you’re missing?” His smirk was made of wickedness and want, and Eroan wanted to kiss it right off his lips.

  Trey swept a hand at himself, adding a flourish. “All this for one night only. Say no, and I’ll leave. But say yes…” Closer, Trey came, until he stood almost as close as they’d been moments ago, hard bodies pressed tightly together. “And I’ll give you a night you’ll never forget.”

  Eroan sucked in a breath and lifted his chin. He couldn’t tell if it was the wine or the restlessness left over from the training, but this male sparked alive things inside of him he’d always been able to quell before. Little flickers of desire, tiny sparks he’d snuffed out. But the need to touch this messenger, to taste him in all ways, had Eroan folding his fingers into fists. He had no idea what this was, and to his shame, he had no idea what to do with it. “I don’t… I wouldn’t usually do this.”

  Trey nodded once. “I understand.” He was out the door and gone before Eroan could let loose the shout to stop him. He hadn’t meant for him to leave!

  “Fuck,” he swore, liking how that strange, new word sounded from his lips. Was he really going to let Trey go after the male had just offered himself like that? He wouldn’t get another chance at this.

  “Wait…” Eroan pushed outside and slowed.

  Nye had caught Trey leaving. He looked up at Eroan’s shout and glanced between Eroan and Trey, who happened to be smiling like he’d been caught with his hand in the honey jar.

  “Nye…” Eroan forced a smile. “I was just… showing Trey the training room.”

  Nye’s face warred with suspicion first, then broke out in a polite, guarded smile. He shook Trey’s hand. “Welcome, messenger. How’s Cheen?”

  “Wet. Smells like fish when the wind comes in off the sea, but otherwise, it’s good.”

  Nye chuckled and looked again at Eroan. Looked a little too long for Eroan’s liking. “You going on patrol now?” his friend asked.

  “Yes.” Eroan mentally kicked himself. He’d forgotten his duties. The messenger was a bad influence, and Eroan had to snap out of it. “I was just heading—”

  “You know, I could take your shift if you like?” Nye offered. “If you want to show Trey the village.”

  “At night?” Eroan asked. Both of them looked at him like he’d just tripped over something obviously in the way.

  “I’d like that,” Trey’s smile grew.

  “There. Perfect.” Nye backed up a few steps. “Come find me when you’re done, Eroan.” Why was Nye grinning like a fool? “No rush… Take your time.” Nye saluted and jogged back toward the main Order house.

  “We could start at your place?” Trey suggested with a look filtered through his lashes, one made to lure unsuspecting elves into bed. If Eroan took him home, there was no escaping what would happen between them. Eroan’s body sung with the idea of it. Sweet anticipation had his throat dried-up, making him wish he’d drunk more wine. Had this mischievous messenger been put here by Alumn to test him?

  Eroan nodded and stalked across the village square, acutely aware of Trey’s long-legged stride keeping up with him. The revelry from the grand hall had begun to spill outside. Elves chatted, smiled, danced in the torchlight while some of the Order loitered on the fringes, studiously keeping watch, never taking part. Eroan shouldn’t have been shirking his duties. And there was the guilt, creeping in, dampening the fire in his blood.

  “Eroan!” Janna waved her arm and pried herself from the affections of the same male who’d been trying to woo her for months and not gotten anywhere. He saw Eroan and narrowed his eyes.

  “Janna, I was just—”

  “Hullo Trey!” She pulled up short and blinked at the messenger beside Eroan. “Xena was wondering where you got to…” Her gaze took on a straight, steely edge. She had her target in sight and was going in for the kill. Eroan had seen that look a hundred times when they hunted together. “Do you know, I completely forgot what I was going to say.” She didn’t look away from Trey. Just stared, and then blinked and snapped out of it with a laugh. She fanned her face. “When did it get so hot? And by gracious Alumn, when did Cheen start making males so fine?”

  Trey’s gaze adopted the same intensity it had in the training hut. He tilted his head and made a slow, suggestive appraisal, undressing Janna with his eyes. She parted her lips and froze, going from predator to prey in a blink.

  Uncomfortable jealousy knotted in Eroan’s gut, twisting his emotions into a tight, painful ball. Trey was his, and Janna was not getting a piece of him before Eroan had his chance. But this was Janna, his friend. He could never stand between her and a night of fun. She deserved it as much as he did.

  Trey side-stepped to Eroan’s hip, dropped his hand and planted it firmly on Eroan’s ass. His fingers dug in. Shock and desire slammed into Eroan, riding right over any attempt to brush him off. Eroan gritted his teeth and swallowed hard as Janna’s gaze dropped to the evidence. Her smile grew. “I’ll just… take myself somewhere else. You two have fun now.” She waggled her fingers at Eroan and headed back toward the torchlit crowd.

  Eroan felt heat reach the tips of his ears. They stood just outside the torchlit areas, but anyone looking would see exactly where Trey’s hand still clutched.

  “I don’t know how they do things in Cheen, but we tend not to publicly grope members of the Order here.”

  “Shame…” Trey purred, slinking around in front of Eroan. He dragged his hand over Eroan’s hip and brushed against the front of his pants. “Because you clearly enjoy it.”

  Eroan caught his wrist and squeezed tight enough to make the male bare his teeth, revealing tiny, sharp canines. Eroan bowed his head, leaning cheek to cheek, and whispered, “I don’t think you realize who you’re teasing.”

  Trey’s hand twisted and plunged between Eroan’s legs, expertly cupping Eroan’s hardening arousal. “Then show me who I’m fucking with, Eroan, Assassin of the Order.”

  Eroan’s heart hammered against his ribs. He breathed like he’d been running for hours. Inside, all the need and desire and wants had tangled into a throbbing, aching, pressure point that fed him thoughts of throwing Trey against a wall somewhere and losing himself in the feel of him, not caring they might be seen.

  “You want me… You want me like you’ve never known.” Trey’s lips brushed Eroan’s cheek. Every word drip-fed lust into Eroan’s veins. “Like it’s a madness taken hold. And you know the best part of all this…” His fingers closed, and Eroan’s thoughts funneled to his straining erection and how Trey rubbed from the base of the shaft, through the fabric
, up to the head. “You get to have me.”

  He wasn’t going to make it back to his hut. If Trey carried on caressing him, he wouldn’t last more than a few minutes standing out here in the damn square.

  “I’ll bring you to the edge right here if you want me to.”

  Eroan grabbed Trey’s hand and pulled him along beside him.

  Trey laughed and tugged free a few strides later. “All that stubborn fire in you… I saw it the second your elder took me into the hall, saw you straight away, laughing with your friend. Saw the look you gave me before you tried to hide it.”

  Every word out of Trey’s mouth was winding Eroan tighter than a spring. Did this male take lessons in lovemaking or was he just wired to flirt with every breath?

  “Here.” Eroan shoved open the door, let Trey step inside and admire the piles of linen and textiles, slammed the door behind him and pressed himself against it like he could delay the inevitable. He had to get a hold of himself.

  “What’s this place?” Trey asked.

  “Laundry,” he growled out, apparently incapable of full sentences.

  Trey turned at the sound of the word and smirked that devilishly crooked smile, the one that made his dark eyes gleam. He lifted his fingers and started working at his waistcoat buttons, popping them open. “Will we be disturbed?”

  “No.” Eroan sounded wrecked, and that was just the beginnings of the mess in his head. Watching Trey’s fingers helped. One button opened, then the next, then another, until the waistcoat hung open over a loose cotton shirt. Torchlight spilled in through the windows, but the torches inside weren’t lit, making shadows play across Trey’s face and darkening his hair. In the low light, he looked like something Alumn-sent, like temptation wrapped in the body of a male and Eroan wanted to tear off the wrapping and explore the gift inside. The problem was, he was stuck against the door, rooted there by a fear he’d so strongly denied but felt keenly now.

  Trey shrugged off the waistcoat, lifted it out to the side and let it drop from his fingers. Each move was a deliberate tease. Every glance, every step, every cock of his hip… How was it possible this male was so damn fine? It shouldn’t be allowed.