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“Anything. Favorite hobby, a funny story. We’ve been traveling for three days and I don’t know anything about you outside of that little blue light you throw around.”
“There’s nothing to tell.” I kept my voice even, hiding the flutters in my stomach.
Why was he smirking at me like that? Was I doing something funny?
“All right, I’ll go first,” he said, tilting his head toward the cloudless sky. “I have a fondness for fluffy animals.”
“What?” I thought I misheard. I tried to picture Callum snuggling a white floppy eared bunny and the image seemed ridiculous.
“It’s true. If I cross paths with a silky cat, I must stop to pet it.”
He met my gaze and the wistful look in his eyes made me laugh. Callum smiled, hesitant at first, but then laughed with me.
“You’re lying,” I said. “I don’t believe it.”
“Is it so difficult to imagine me with a furry friend?” That sly smile crossed his face and his eyes darkened. “You should smile more.”
I straightened, realizing my slip. When was the last time I had laughed? It seemed so long ago.
Callum slid forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “How about our first lesson? I did promise to teach you about our ways and you should learn before we meet the queen.”
“Now? I’m rowing.”
“Exactly. It’ll help to pass the time.” He paused. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”
I’d play along for as long as I needed to, any advantage with the dark fae would be necessary. “Go ahead then.”
The front of his hair fell over his right eye. He pushed the strands back, the muscle in his arm flexed. “I’m sure those wonderful magi taught you about the basics of males and females, but not about passion. There are many types of intimacy, one being a simple touch. Give me one of your arms.”
“I’m rowing,” I said, stating the obvious, again.
“You can pause for a moment. The current is moving us in the right direction.”
Questioning where this lesson was going, I settled the oars into their holders, and held out my right arm.
He traced a finger along my skin, up and down, slowly. His touch grazed me, only applying a light pressure. “Tell me how this feels.”
“Soothing.”
“One touch builds upon another, each one directing the moment.” Callum moved his finger along my skin then placed his free hand on the top of my knee. “Tell me how you feel now.”
“Warm, eager.”
With a heady gaze, Callum dragged his fingers to my hand where he gently squeezed me. “And now?”
“My heart’s racing. It’s . . . I don’t know how to explain it.” Or didn’t want to. I’d always been able to speak my mind, but Callum made my head spin weirdly and the unfamiliar warmth spreading through me made me uneasy. I could handle anything, and partly because I refused to allow any emotion to control my needs.
“The gentlest of touches can incite a myriad of feelings,” Callum’s voice deepened as the tip of his fingers danced across mine. “It’s not just about the physical interaction. True intimacy is connecting with someone on an emotional level.”
He wrapped his fingers around mine, holding my hand. The touch sent a wave of warmth through my body, and a bit of sadness. Had it been that long since someone had held my hand? I raked my mind trying to think, and the only memories belonged to my family, and I hated replaying those in my mind. The loss was too painful.
“Hey,” he said softly. “What is it?”
I snatched my hand out of his. “I get your point.”
“Very well. A lesson for another day. I’m taking a nap.” He stretched and leaned back against the side of the boat. “Wake me when it’s my turn to row.”
How was it so easy for him to relax? Was it one sided? Is this how intimacy worked? If only my mother had lived long enough to teach me. My life would be very different if my family hadn’t been slaughtered like cattle.
