Spycraft Academy by B. Miles (sites to read books for free .txt) 📗
- Author: B. Miles
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Instead of asking her any of that, instead of saying anything of import, he forced a smile and said, "I'm not. I'm here now. Just tired, but I'm listening. What's on your mind?"
More fear. His cowardice was rearing its ugly head today more than it had ever done in the past. Fear of losing people. Fear of pain. He'd had plenty of both, it shouldn't cut so deeply now. He should be able to face Mattie with the full knowledge that it could lead to hurt, and yet dive in despite it. But he didn't. He wasn't.
Her lips pulled sideways and her expression sharpened. He didn't know what to make of it.
"A lot, actually." She said it casually, bending her knees and sliding closer to him until he was gripping her thighs instead of her calves and it didn't feel so casual.
"You really embarrassed Delcan today, you know. I'm worried about him."
Why was she still smiling, then?
"That wasn't my intention, obviously. I couldn't just let him flay me without putting up a fight, either. People catch a scent of weakness and, well, you know what happens."
Mattie was still twisting the tail of her auburn braid around her finger. She brought it close to her face and brushed it absently across her jaw, her eyes boring into him like they were talking about how they were going to ravish each other rather than a fighting class.
"I know. Still, he's not going to forget it soon. Didn't you notice the way he was staring you down all day? Did you not notice the way his entire crew stared at you all day? He's going to try and pull one over on you, and your odds aren't looking good at six to three. We need to recruit three more people, or better yet, four."
Of course he noticed Delcan and his people throughout the day, he was just trying to avoid thinking about it. One stress at a time was enough, and talking about it now was making his stomach jump, so Sam barreled through the topic and spun it around to point at Mattie. He'd think about recruiting more later, but right now, he just wanted to stop talking about it.
"I wouldn't have done it if it weren't for you volunteering me. What was that about anyway?"
"Oh, that." Mattie's smirk finally cleared, this time for a grin. "Because I knew you could do it. Drina bet me you couldn't."
That girl has a serious gambling problem. Any thought of Drina melted as soon as it appeared because, well, Mattie hadn't said something so kind to him before. She didn't outright say, 'I knew you could do it, because I believe in you,' but she didn't have to. It was beneath her words, in the richness and warmth of her tone. Mattie believed in him so much that she'd put him into a position even he didn't think he could beat. But he did, and she knew he would.
Souls weren't real, not like the Oldmons in the temples said. At least, he never thought so. After all, if souls were real, then The Great Spirits were real, and if the great spirits were real, then vile people and wicked actions would not exist. Sam would not have to grit his teeth and ignore mud-covered children hobbling through the streets with empty bellies and festering wounds, asking him for food and money he didn't have.
And yet, his soul soared. It rose in his sternum, filled his chest, crowded his lungs, and billowed from his lips to sail up, up, up into the air. His whole body was made of weightless feathers.
"So, what did you get for winning?" He grinned, grasping this moment in time and preserving it like a stone in his memory. He didn't have many memories he wanted to hold onto forever, but this was one.
Mattie's expressions kept changing wildly. One moment, she was smirking like she was up to something wicked, then she was grinning her familiar, sweet grin, then she was smirking again.
She crooked her finger at him.
He didn't even have to think about it when he leaned in.
Her hand glided to his shoulder and she pulled him closer, her mouth near enough that he could feel the energy shooting from her lips to the shell of his ear.
"She had to let me borrow her shirt," Mattie whispered.
He looked down. Her breasts weren't large, but they were the perfect size for his palms, the little buds of her nipples straining against the thin, gauzy material.
"It's a nice shirt," Sam whispered back, watching her chest rise and fall with every breath. If he put his hand there, would he feel her heart galloping like his?
"I'm glad you think so. It's made of Meera gauze, very rare, you know. You may never see its like again."
Sam held his breath, blood combing through his veins and ploughing into his hips.
"Do you want to touch it?"
He wanted her. She wanted him. All that existed was her breath ghosting the inside of his ear, filling his body up until every desire he had was set to burst. Sam hesitated for a second, only one, for if he waited any longer, that explosion would turn inward and he would be cleaved in two, halved like chopped wood.
His hands were at his sides, then they were on her. One cupped her jaw, the other circled her chest. He moved forward like a whip and pressed her back hard against the stone wall of the alcove, folding and contorting her into the corner and pressing himself into her as if they could become one. He swallowed the soft sounds she made, little squeaks as he brushed and pinched and circled her breast, and he poured all of his want
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