“ Follow,” Sicarius said.
He backed up three steps, not all the way to the edge of the roof, lest someone spot him from below, then sprinted straight at the smokestack. He ran up the side, legs churning, propelling him upward. He gripped the lip before gravity caught up with him. In a blink, he disappeared over the side.
Amaranthe grumbled to herself but backed up to give it a try. If he thought she could do it, who was she to argue?
“ A mortal person more effected by gravity than he,” she muttered.
“ Check behind the stacks,” one of the men said.
They were both on the roof now, walking in her direction. She’d be in their sight in a few seconds.
Amaranthe raced for the stack, then up it. Taking large steps, she kicked into the wall, throwing the knee of her opposite leg up, propelling herself upward. All too soon, her momentum faded. She threw her arm up, hoping she was close to the top. Her fingers brushed the lip, but she couldn’t quite get a grip.
Before she started to drop, Sicarius’s hand whipped out with a viper’s speed. He caught her wrist and hauled her up as if she weighed mere ounces.
Conscious of the men below, Amaranthe kept from grunting when her stomach rammed into the stack’s lip. A little abdomen battering didn’t compare to what she’d endured at Pike’s hands. She slithered the rest of the way over as quietly as possible. Inside, she groped about for someplace to put her feet, but didn’t find anything. Sicarius was bracing himself with one boot and one hand against each side of the interior. The smokestack wasn’t wide, and she bumped him several times as she maneuvered about, attempting to find a similar position. She finally settled in, facing him. Under other circumstances, she might have blushed at how few inches separated their bodies. As it was, she merely hoped she hadn’t bumped him any place sensitive.
Sicarius gazed impassively at her. She tilted her head, listening to see if the enforcers had spotted her. She could hear them talking, but the stack walls muffled the words. She and Sicarius hung in tableau, waiting.
Though the furnaces might have been permitted to burn down to embers, heat still wafted up from below. Warmth emanated from the metal walls, too, and she alternated lifting hands to give them a break. She eyed the soot coating her palms with distaste. She did manage to feel pleased that her muscles were supporting her weight without trouble. So long as the enforcers wandered off before the stokers below readied the boat to leave the docks, she ought to be fine.
“ At least I’m warm now,” Amaranthe whispered. “We should have climbed in here earlier.”
Sicarius was watching the sky, or perhaps listening to the enforcers, and she didn’t expect him to respond. He surprised her with a quiet, “My arm did not warm you sufficiently?”
“ Don’t feel bad. You’re new at snuggling with women. You’ll learn.”
His gaze lowered to meet hers. More teasing words floated through her mind, but she kept them to herself. After all, she wanted to encourage snuggling, not divert him from the notion. Other notions came to mind when she realized how close her face was to his. Given their precarious perch, and the enforcers clomping about on the roof below, this probably wasn’t the place for amorous activities, but as the seconds ticked past, she found herself wondering what he’d do if she kissed him. She also wondered if he thought about such things even half as often as she did. By all accounts-especially Maldynado’s-men were supposed to be more enamored with sex than women, but with him… one would never know if he had such urges at all. Maybe he didn’t. Or maybe he did but didn’t know how to have a normal relationship with someone. She’d been thinking about what she’d endured at Pike’s hands, but what about what he’d endured? Not as a hardened adult either, but as a child.
“ Equipment cleaning,” Sicarius said.
“ What?”
“ Your job. It could be tending to the group’s training gear.”
Amaranthe shook her head slowly. Here she was worrying about his past and whether he’d ever enjoy physical relations, and he was mulling over the most literal meaning of her earlier words. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she whispered. “I meant jobs as in things we do specifically to please the other person. It should be…” She trailed off. The lighting wasn’t the best inside the smokestack, but she was certain the corners of his lips were turned up slightly. “You know what I meant. You’re just teasing me.”
“ Yes.”
“ Sicarius…? Do you find pleasure in… I mean, did your experiences as a boy… with… him… make it so you can’t…” Amaranthe dropped her chin and winced. This was the worst place ever to have this conversation. What was she thinking? Once started, though, she couldn’t help herself. “I know you said you’d be ready when I was ready, but do you think it’ll be… something you can enjoy?”
Sicarius lifted his face toward the mouth of the smokestack, ear tilted toward the jabbering enforcers below. “Is coitus with you not typically enjoyable?”
Amaranthe was glad he wasn’t looking at her, because her cheeks flushed hotter than a pot-bellied stove. “Of course it is,” she whispered. Though, technically, she’d never asked any of her previous lovers. All two of them. Men never seemed that picky though. Emperor’s warts, she’d caught Akstyr entertaining himself with a tree once.
Amaranthe realized Sicarius’s gaze had returned to her face, and her flush deepened. “Does that mean you’re not going to answer my question?”
Sicarius shifted his weight, and she thought he meant to climb up and check on the enforcers, but he drew closer and laid his hand on her waist. His fingers hooked under her belt, as if he meant to give her extra support to ensure she wouldn’t fall. She opened her mouth to protest-sure, she’d get tired of hanging up there eventually, but a few minutes didn’t bother her. Then he touched his lips to hers.
Her boots skidded an inch down the wall. She jammed her hands against the sides to catch herself. Her heart thundered in her ears at the thought of plummeting three decks down to the boiler room, but Sicarius’s other hand came to her waist, and her mind caught up to her reflexes. She was in no danger of falling. Even if she slipped, he wouldn’t let her drop. Not when he was teasing her lips with his tongue. Playfully. That still wasn’t exactly an answer to her question, but she wasn’t about to start talking and ruin the moment.
Though he kept the kiss light, the desire for more built within her. How long had she wanted him to kiss her? How long had she dreamed of it? The warmth that flushed her body had nothing to do with embarrassment or the heat wafting up from the furnaces. Had she been cold earlier? That feeling seemed an eternity past now. She lowered one of her hands from the wall, wanting to reach for him and deepen the kiss. Then she remembered her position, that only her braced arms and legs kept her from falling. But Sicarius didn’t let her budge. His hands on either side of her waist ensured she wouldn’t fall. Her fingers found the back of his head, twining in his short, soft hair. She let go of the wall with her other hand, wrapping it around his back, and then, encouraged by what felt like a smile against her lips, she let the arm slip lower. Feeling audacious for her presumption, she cupped his rear. Taut muscle lay beneath his trousers, a result of his straddled legs supporting his weight and some of hers. He could hold them both up, she had little doubt. She was tempted to wrap her legs around him, to “ Rokkov,” someone yelled outside. “You and Ganz better get down here. We found Jokranov and Reki. Their bodies anyway.”
“ We’ll be down in a minute,” one of the men on the roof yelled back.
Sicarius drew back, leaving Amaranthe breathless and disoriented. It took her a moment to focus on work again and realize the implications of the shout.