Gladius (The Hussies)

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An Excerpt From: GLADIUS

Copyright © NATHALIE GRAY, 2008

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing,
Inc.

She tried not to stare. She had seen plenty of naked bodies
before, had been raised around them. But Dar's unique mix of sharp lines,
natural muscles--not gym-produced, but from good genes and hard labor--and
feral intensity created dramatic beauty she had rarely seen before. Most Vespasians viewed their neighbors from Hadi to be little more than beasts without enlightened
culture or refinement, vestiges from Earth's squalid past when humans still
lived in caves. She personally thought the Hadisians
had only adapted to their harsh environment, as other humans had, as Vespasians had done themselves. Not animals, even if
they were rather rustic in their ways. But Dar Skara
transcended such definitions.

He
walked by her without a look back, at ease with his nakedness--or too proud
to show inhibitions. His black hair came down in a V in the middle of his
wide back. Opal's thighs cramped just watching the man's back. She
swallowed hard as she admired his forceful stride to the bath, down the
tiled steps into the water. Steam rose in thin ribbons around him, coiled
in the air above his head and stuck to his skin in a glistening coat that
gave the man the sheen of a bronze statue.

Dar's
head disappeared under the surface for a few seconds then reappeared when he
straightened. Water came up to his waist. He turned around, threw her a
slanted look then sat on one of the underwater ledges along the bath's rim.

"Well,
you Vespasians do one thing right."

He
sighed in contentment as he leaned back and hooked his long arms along the
bath's ceramic edge. He closed his eyes, angled his head back to expose his
strong neck and what portion of throat she could see below the beard. With
the water, the tattoo resembled black satin strips. A sudden impulse to
lick each droplet of water off him descended on her. Opal's palms tingled
with the urge to touch him, rub scented oils on his skin, comb all that hair back from his face to get a better
look. She realized she breathed hard as she stood in the doorway still.

"Are
you sure you do not require a healer?" Her voice sounded tight even in her
ears. That man had a profound effect on her. All she wanted to do was
admire his perfect symmetry and animal grace.

He
grinned, showing a broken tooth at the corner of his smile. "A backrub and
a blowjob would be nice though, if you're offering."

Dar
congratulated himself for his choice of words. Under normal circumstances,
he'd never say something so unbelievably crude to a woman. Nan--rest her soul--would've
smacked him upside the head in no time. But "Opal" was a Vespasian.

The
look on her face. Shock then a gradual transition to anger. She blushed
deep red and he knew it had nothing to do with demureness and everything to
do with her hating his guts. Good. He was all for open communication. Plus,
blushing suited her very, very well. That tingle in his balls was another
reason he should--and did--hate her. She had no right making him all hot and
horny. Messed everything up, dammit.

"You
are so brave, are you not, Dar Skara? You fear
nothing and no one."

"The
only thing I fear is pissing God off."

"You
believe in a god?"

"Don't
you Vespasians all do? With your stupid rituals
and nonsense? Or is it all just for the fuck of it?"

She
crossed her arms and stared. That sleeveless tunic was murder on his
self-control. The color of a cloudless sky, it hugged her strong frame in
all the right places and ended just above the kneecaps. Her black boots had
been polished to a high glimmer. He couldn't see them well, despite the
slits up to her hips, but he knew she had killer thighs, nice and thick the
way he liked them, with muscles and maybe even a couple of scars from her
fights. Nothing beat a good scar on a tough woman. Gave them character. Who
the fuck wanted some perfect little plastic doll to keep them warm? The
hint of cleavage he could see wasn't bad either. But the throbbing in his
busted bottom lip reminded him she was the bad guy. His beautiful enemy. He
lost his hard-on in a hurry.

"So,"
he started, eyes closed so he could focus on something other than her
gorgeous body and mesmerizing violet eyes. "When's the fight?"

"Next
week," came her reply. She sounded pissed still. Good. Kept her on her
toes. Less dangerous that way. "They last two days."

"Whoever
survives day one gets to fight on day two."

"Yes."

Dar
wondered how many ways she could modulate that word. Was she a screamer in
bed? He'd love to hear it.

"Are
you a screamer?"

"Pardon
me?"

"In
bed, are you a screamer?"

"No.
Are you?"

"Men
don't scream. We grunt."

A soft
sound made him open his eyes to stare. Opal was shaking her head and
chuckling. That had to be the cutest sound he'd ever heard. And she
snorted!

To his
shock, she unbuckled the wide belt, dropped it to the floor, unclasped the tunic, tossed that too before getting rid
of the boots and a tiny pair of white panties and a see-through cami that
did nothing for his self-control. Not a stitch of embarrassment he could
detect either. What sort of woman stripped without blinking in front of a
stranger? Not that he complained.

"What?
Hadisian women do not take baths with the men?"

He
grunted a reply as she stepped into a shallow pool by the side of the large
steaming bath. Clearly, it was cold because she hissed. And because her
nipples tightened to hard-looking rosy points. Shit.

"What're
you doing? That part of your training, stripping for a guy's benefit?"

Opal
rinsed her upper body. Man, the muscles on her! "What makes you think this
is for your benefit?"

"Whose
is it then if not me? See anyone else around? Is there a hole somewhere that
some perv gets to look into?"

She
shook her head. "No spectator. Just you and me
fulfilling a common, basic need. Bathing."

Yeah,
well, he had other common, basic needs she could fulfill too.