Lacuna - N.R. Walker Page 0,37

curve of his arse, broad shoulders . . .

Tancho was mad at himself for not turning sooner.

But while Crow had his back turned, Tancho stripped, and when Crow slid down under the surface to wash his hair, Tancho stepped in.

He was seated across from Crow when he resurfaced and blinked his surprise, but a smile pulled at his lips. “The hot water is a welcome reprieve from long hours in a saddle,” Crow said.

“It is,” Tancho whispered. He had to look away from Crow’s impossible eyes. He felt scrutinised under that piercing stare, as though Crow saw into him. Being naked in a bath with him didn’t help. Their difference in size had never felt more apparent than it did to Tancho in that moment.

“It’s a shame they wouldn’t let us bring our weapons,” Crow said with a smile. “Though I’d be a fool to think you couldn’t kill me with your bare hands.”

Tancho met his gaze then, the steam from the water swirled between them. “You’d be a fool to think I’d even need to use my hands.”

Crow’s nostrils flared and one eyebrow quirked upward. He fought a smile. “Is that a challenge?”

Tancho had to wonder if they were talking about fighting. He was beginning to think they weren’t. “Is everything a sport to you?”

His eyes danced with humour. “Yes.”

Needing to assert some control and possibly a little cruelty, Tancho took the cloth and began to wash his arm and shoulder. He knew Crow watched every movement, so he did it slowly, deliberately, right up to his throat, craning his neck just so. Letting the water run over his collarbone, his chest, letting his hair fall into the water. He never took his eyes off Crow’s, seeing them darken, seeing his jaw bulge and his lips part . . .

Sport had never been so much fun.

Just then a knock sounded at the door and Soko poked his head in, as if he was hoping to see something in particular. “Ah, excuse the interruption.”

Kohaku’s grinning head appeared above Soko’s in the darkness outside. “Meals are ready,” he said. “The innkeeper wanted you to know.”

“Thank you,” Crow said. Then, with all the brazen confidence, or perhaps his turn at this sporting game, Crow stood up in the bath, naked as the day he was born. He leisurely reached for a towel, then casually dried his face and hair, very deliberately leaving his cock on full display.

He was half-hard, hanging heavy and thick, and Tancho couldn’t look away. His mouth went dry. He licked his lips with want, the cloth in his hand long forgotten. Crow smirked at him as he towelled his hair, his face and chest. The kind of smirk that could start a war, raise an army, and topple kingdoms . . . The kind of smirk that said yes, this sport is fun indeed.

Like the smirk Tancho had worn just moments before.

The kind of smirk that said Crow had won this round and they both knew it.

Apparently so did Soko and Kohaku, if their laughter was anything to go by. Kohaku dragged Soko away before he could comment, which Tancho was grateful for. He didn’t fancy hearing anything anyone had to say.

He closed his eyes, wishing it all away, and slid down under the surface, hoping when he came up for air, everyone would be gone. Soko and Kohaku were long gone, thankfully, but Crow was still there, pulling on his shirt. He was wearing pants, something Tancho was both grateful for and bitterly disappointed about.

While Crow still had his back turned, Tancho stood and pulled a towel around his waist. He took another towel to dry himself with and padded over to his clothes and hurried to redress. Crow still wore that cursed smirk, but he thankfully didn’t tease him. He sat down to pull on his boots and watched as Tancho towel-dried his hair.

“Does everyone in the Westlands have long hair?” he asked.

“Most, though not all,” Tancho replied, surprised by the question.

“I thought it might have been a royal court status, with you and Kohaku and Karasu. But most villagers I’ve seen these last two days also have long hair.”

“It’s not a status symbol. It’s just how we are.” Tancho frowned. “It’s who we are.”

“I like it,” Crow said quickly. “I wasn’t implying otherwise. The colour of yours . . .”

“I have worn the brunt of many mockeries for the colour of my hair,” Tancho said. “Even as king. Could you imagine what would have been