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He scurried over, holding one scrap after another up to the light. I started out watching him like a hawk but soon found myself helping him. Why? Maybe the thrill of the chase. Or maybe my competitive side liked the idea of beating him to the discovery. Or just plain curiosity.
Either way, I dropped my defenses. Rightly so, because Tuck truly seemed intent on a more innocent mission than I’d assumed.
“Got them!” he called out, holding some papers to the light.
I scurried over for a look, but he held them higher, laughing. “I’m not sure you want to see this.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
He turned one way then the other, making me pivot with him. Every time I grabbed for the papers, my hands brushed his body. More than once, my torso did too.
“Give me that,” I insisted, laughing.
“I will not.”
“You will too.”
He raised the sketches high, then jerked them low, out of my reach. Just like the ball games I’d played with my cousin when I was little. Fun games. Innocent games. Games that got your heart pumping and your body sweating.
“This is definitely not for your eyes,” he laughed, holding the sketches out of reach.
I got on tippy-toes, grasping for them. “If you’re worried about protecting my virtue, don’t. It’s too late for that.”
His eyes went wide. Oops. Not the kind of thing a proper young lady ought to admit. It did give me a chance to snatch the sketches, though.
“Ha!” I cheered, then turned my back to him to study them.
He reached over my shoulder, but I ducked away. “No, you don’t. These are…” I turned the sketch the right way up, then stared. “Oh. My.”
He laughed. “Told you so.”
The room went quiet as we both studied the picture. Then I flipped it to the back of the pile and examined the next one.
“Wow,” I murmured, impressed at the artist’s…er, attention to detail. “The man in the sketch really is…”
Big…well-endowed…overproportional all went through my mind, but I couldn’t bring myself to utter a word.
Tuck saved me with an amused, “Yes, he is.”
He made a halfhearted attempt to get the sketches back, but I turned, bumping my rear against his hip. Or maybe his groin. I wasn’t sure, because those sketches gave everything a sexy spin. Like the heat of Tuck’s body just behind mine. The light touch of his chest against my shoulder. The way his breath caught when my rear grazed his thigh.
I rotated the next paper right, then left, squinting.
“Wow. Is that even possible?”
Tuck chuckled. “I’ve never tried it.”
His matter-of-fact tone suggested he’d tried quite a few moves in his time. Which really, really oughtn’t have made me jealous of whoever the lucky women had been.
The dirty part of my mind stopped on that point. Women, as in, successive partners, or women, as in, several at one time?
I shook my head. Did it matter?
It shouldn’t, but it did. I liked sex straight up and one-on-one. No kink, no sharing. Was Tuck the same?
I suppose I was traditional that way. Though Lord save me if anyone found out Maid Marian wasn’t as innocent as they assumed.
“Are you saying you want to try?” Tuck joked.
