The Written Word

The shift in Faelyn was obvious, even to Ruth. To change from enjoying the comedown to his body rippling with tension, even minute, caught the healer's attention. Well, fuck. Trust his mouth to ruin a potential bedmate for a time. With a sigh, he placed the tobacco stick into his mouth. “A poor choice of words on my part,” he’d admit, they didn’t really know one another, mistakes happened. “Do you mind?” hoping to smooth it over by being marginally behaved and obtaining permission before sparking up.

“I’m game,” he’d nod, shit-eating grin hot on the tails of it. “You can tell me about my book as we play.”