For your information, the surface legends are wrong. Most nymphs are males.
Male? "No way."
Look closely and see for yourself.
He did, his gaze probing deeply into the creature's back, taking in the small details. Broad shoulders. A masculine gait. Large, booted feet peeked out from the robe's hem.
A shudder raked Gray, and all thoughts of pleasurable comas vanished. "That man needs to die simply for ruining my fantasy."
He will not be as easy to kill as the demon. Nymphs are the greatest warriors in the land, stronger even than dragons, though they never strike first. As long as you leave him alone, you'll both walk away unscathed.
"I'll remember that." The closer Gray came to the nymph, the taller he realized the creature was. Taller than him, actually. An amazing feat considering Gray stood at six-five and usually towered over everyone he encountered. Keeping his weapon ready just in case, Gray maintained a wide berth as he passed.
The imposing white-robed male grimaced, glanced over at him, and waved a hand in front of his surprisingly feminine and starkly beautiful face. He barked something in a deep, guttural language.
"What did he say?" Gray asked as soon as he was a safe distance away. That you reek of ash and death.
"Well, aren't I the special little boy today." Nearly eaten alive, then aromatically insulted. He sniffed himself, and his lips pursed. Okay, so he did smell a little.
He delved deeper into the shadows, listening for telltale signs of footsteps or the cock of a weapon. As his mind-companion predicted, the nymph left him alone.
Only when he'd gone a mile further, however, did he relax his guard. He breathed deeply and let his gaze wander. The beauty here amazed him. Dew sparked like diamonds atop the brilliant green foliage. The whisper of waves created a melodic rhythm, and the scent of pineapple and coconut fragranced the air. Throw in a La-Z-Bpy recliner, a fridge loaded with ice-cold beer, and a dozen dancing hula girls - naked of course - and he'd be in heaven.
Can yon think of nothing besides women and sex?
"Sure I can," He jumped over a pile of rocks, never breaking stride. "Why don't you take off all your clothes and tell me who you are and why you're helping me."
At first her only reaction was a gasp, and he would have given anything to see her expression. To see her . He suspected she was blushing. Would her blush color only her cheeks, or would it spread, delving further, along her collarbone... her breasts?
He swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat.
We can discuss that later, she finally said.
"You keep saying that, and to be honest, I'm sick of hearing it. I don't even know your name." Silence.
"A name is such a simple thing. Surely you can tell me yours."
I can't.
"Yes, you can. Open your mouth and let sound come out. Try it, you might like it."
No, I truly cannot tell you. Because, well... because I don't have one, she admitted reluctantly, shamefully.
His brow furrowed. Not have a name? Everyone and everything had a name. Was she lying, perhaps? No, he decided in the next instant. Her shame was too real. Which left the question: why didn't she have a name?
Instead of pressing for more details, he said, "Why don't I call you Babe? It's short, easy, and perfect for you."
I am not an infant, she said, clearly offended. "In your case, the word means hot and sexy."
ok ohhh. He imagined her smiling dreamily. Still, I think I prefer something less suggestive. You may call me... Jane Doe.
"Now it's my turn to nix." He chuckled. "I'm not calling you by a name I use for dead female bodies I can't identify."
She sighed, will you call me Jewel?
He experienced a jolt of surprise that she had picked that name, since it was the whole reason he was here. Is that why she chose it? he wondered suspiciously. "Jewel it is, then." He rolled the name across his tongue, savoring its taste. He hadn't seen her face, but anyone with such a flat-out sexy voice deserved a flat-out sexy name, and Jewel fit the bill.
He skirted around a pile of rocks. "Why did you help me, Jewel?"
She exhaled slowly, and the breathy trickle caressed his nerve endings, tickling like the tip of a feather. I need your help. She sounded defensive. Unsure.
"Help doing what?"
Saving me. I've been imprisoned again and I -
"Again?" He stopped and his backpack slammed into his spine. "What the hell