Everything is a Choice

Chapter 28

Previously...

With a small grunt of triumph, he slides a hand into my braies, cups my ballsack.

Clumsily, I grapple with his belt buckle.

"Do you know what you're doing?" he asks, stroking the back of my hand and wrist with his free hand.

"Do you?" I ask.

He grimaces, as though at some unpleasant memory, quickly masks it with a smile. "I think so."

His belt buckle comes undone.

~

Chapter 28

"I think," Guy says, wrapping the fingers of his free hand around my hand, the one I have presently buried inside his leathers, tentatively exploring the length and weight of him, "that I'll just do you this time. I'm not sure I'm really up to the occasion right now, all things considered."

"All right," I say, pulling my hand free and letting it dangle by my side. Then, feeling awkward, I hook the fingers of both my hands over the top of his thick leather belt. I always knew where to put my hands when I was with a woman. I thought this would be similarly easy, but it's not.

"Good." Guy places the warm pads of his fingers under my chin, lifting it so we are eye to eye.

I nod, even though I'm not sure whether his 'good' is a question or not.

He slides his hand from my cock, licks the back of it and gives me a predatory grin. Lowering onto his knees, he pulls my breeches and braies down with him.

Don't look, I think, closing my eyes. Imagine it's some other man doing this to you, anyone but him. I take a deep, shaky breath. The smell of damp leather fills my nostrils.

"First time at my mercy, Hood." He gives me a teasing lick. "I think I'm going to like this."

I open my eyes, daring to look at what he's doing, and stare straight into Matilda's shocked face peering around the curtain that divides our sleeping area from the rest of the camp.

"Fuck!" Stumbling backwards, I trip over the clothes bunched around my ankles and end up on my back, legs spread.

Guy whirls around. "Witch!"

Screwing up her face in disgust and disbelief, Matilda yanks the curtain closed.

"I'll have her," Guy snarls, eyes alighting on something above my head and behind me: his sword.

"No. I'll deal with her," I say, pushing up onto my elbows. "Don't-"

"You can't lie your way out of this one, Hood. That witch is no fool."

Untangling a leg from my dropped breeches and braies, I kick out as Guy strides past me, toppling him. Still fumbling to do up his belt buckle, he is unable to save himself. With a sickening crunch, he smacks onto the wooden edge of my bunk. His eyelids flutter and then close. Blood oozes from a gash on his forehead.

Quickly regaining my feet, I tug my braies and breeches up trembling legs. Two attempts and I give up trying to tie my laces sensibly, knotting them instead.

I kneel next to Guy and brush his long hair from his face. He is out cold.

"Matilda!"

I call again but she doesn't come. Leaving Guy where he is, I charge outside, almost taking the curtain with me.

She is standing some yards away, one of Much's frying pans in one hand and a paring knife in the other. One look at her face tells me that Guy is right: there is not a lie on this earth I can use to explain away what Guy and I were about to do.