Page 48 of Silk & Sand

“You wasted packing space on raaki?”

“Preparing for a celebration is not a waste. You want some?”

“What are you celebrating?”

Raider shrugged. “The oasis. Surviving. Resting. If those aren’t worth celebrating, what possibly could be?”

Seth frowned. He’d never thought about it before. He didn’t really celebrate things.

Raider held out the raaki again. He smiled when Seth took it and swigged the sweet, burning liquor. Damn it, but Seth liked that smile.

They settled into the meal, passing the raaki back and forth. After a week of dehydration, the alcohol was quickly going to Seth’s head. He knew he should stop drinking, but something kept him at it.

Eventually, when enough of the liquor was in his system, Seth found his eyes lingering on Raider. He found his hand lingering on the raaki as he passed it back. Raider’s fingers played over his, brushing lightly.

Holding Seth’s gaze, Raider said, “Stop making things so complicated.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

It took Seth a long moment to pull his hand away, to break that eye contact. He didn’t trust himself to reply. He didn’t trust himself with Raider.

So he got up and walked to the tent.

CHAPTER 15

RAIDER SWIGGED RAAKI and stared into the fire. He knew what he was going to do, of course. He was already half hard at the thought.

But he needed Seth alone in that darkened tent for a minute, frustrated and restless, having that same thought. Because after what had happened at the pool? Raider was very sure that Seth was having it.

Gods, the way Seth had pinned him down, sucked him so hard, demanded his orgasm …

But after, Seth had withdrawn—no, he’d fled—because he’d been feeling more than he wanted to. Raider had seen it in his eyes.

Then that business with the multi tool? Seth had been so damn pleased to have something to get angry about.

Yes, some of his anger had genuinely been about the theft. (More a point of pride than anything given that, obviously, Raider had given the stupid thing back.) But the argument had been a convenient sidetrack from Seth’s other emotions.

Raider understood that kind of thing all too well. But that didn’t mean he’d let Seth get away with it.

He corked the raaki and set it aside. He had already abandoned his sandals and kaftan, but he took the liberty of loosening his violet sash and the drawstring of his pants beneath. Then he stood up and walked to Seth’s tent, making his approach audible. He wanted Seth to hear him, to anticipate his arrival.

Raider pulled up the side of the tent facing the fire and secured it. He didn’t like being closed in. He also wanted to be able to fully enjoy the sight of Seth.

Nothing should be wasted—that was a lesson of the desert. And what greater waste could there be than to throw away any possible pleasure?

The distant firelight showed Raider what he expected: that Seth had removed his boots but not his clothes. That he was lying on his back and glaring at Raider in frustration but not surprise. That he was hard.

Raider dropped to his knees outside Seth’s thigh, not touching him. Did Seth imagine it like he did? Raider, sliding his hand along that muscled thigh to the bulge of Seth’s cock. Squeezing him. Stroking.

“I don’t trust you,” Seth said. His voice was always deep, but arousal lent it a low, gravelly tone that made Raider’s dick throb.

“You don’t have to, Seth, not to fuck me. You don’t even have to like me.”

“That’s a fucked-up perspective.”

“Not at all. It’s just sex. It’s just feeling good—because you should feel good whenever you can. And it feels good to touch.”