Nov's first reaction was to resist having his hand grabbed; it was pure instinct and paranoia, two things he rarely relinquished, even in sleep.
His grip on caution loosened, however, as Kechaiya lowered his fingers into the valley of her bust. Her skin was ridiculously smooth all the way, smoother still at the center between her corset-enhanced breasts. Noven had absolutely no idea what she was trying to do, though his imagination did its best to guess, until the rough pads of his digits touched something too solid to be flesh.
Out they fished a key. And with that key retrieved, Chai tugged it from his fingers, turned around, and, to his utter astonishment, unlocked the door they'd been standing in front of for the past chime or two.
The cook felt something of a fool as his hostess pulled him in and barred her door. Not so much because of his ignorance at having arrived in front of her doorsteps, but because of the sudden realization that everything Kechaiya had done thus far, she'd likely done with clear cut, purposeful intention.
This was further confirmed as Nov was left to his own devices by the door, his hostess moving to set down the plate and very sensually, very purposefully toss another log into the fire while simultaneously allowing another fantastic view of her feminine curves. He'd be a liar to claim that he wasn't shamelessly watching Kechaiya's every move, and that the grin on her painted lips as she glanced over a single, bare shoulder at him didn't send his thoughts spiraling out of control again. And that when she turned her face back toward the fire, it only fueled his compulsion more to stride over and take her right then and there.
And therein laid the problem.
The man forced himself to tear his eyes away from the alluring healer and take in all of her humble furnishings instead. He could smell various plants mixed with traces of smoke and heat from the flames. Glancing around, Nov saw the source easily enough: neatly stored, dried herbs that decorated both mantle and table. Everything else was just as modest. Modest, but well put together, practical, and comfortable. Not entirely unlike their owner.
Or, at least, the owner he'd known earlier in the season, when they'd both been injured and exhausted to near comical degrees. The girl who had kissed him in a moment of wild courage, and whom he had kissed back in blissful surrender.
This new version of Chai, though...oh, she was beautiful, there was no doubt about that. The purple dress looked incredible on her, and her choice in corsets had Nov's eye caught in a web of tantalizing glimpses all night. Not to mention how bold she had become, using her body to entice him in every subtle way imaginable, and succeeding gloriously every step of the way through.
That, and he was a hair's breadth away from drunken stupor. Alcohol tended to help speed his mind into the gutter with our without enchanting doctors spinning him around and round their little finger.
But even as he watched her from across the room, the doctor's semi bare, slender back still facing him, Noven had the strange feeling he wasn't looking at Chai. He was looking at someone who, through some unknown method to him, had discovered what to do and how to do it. If only he didn't already know these tactics so well. If only he were too drunk or green with inexperience to care.
Alas, he was neither. So, as cottony as his head still felt, Nov made up his mind. He shrugged his coat and gloves off to drape them over an empty chair. Then he walked over to the doctor, as sober as he could manage--which was not much, admittedly--and placed a hand on her flawless shoulder to turn her around.
"I think I know what you want, Chai," he murmured, taking one of her petite hands in his. A true marvel it was, that a hand so small could do so much good, for people who could care less for the person attached. It wasn't the case for him, though. Would never be the case."But I'm not sure if this is it."
Guiding her gently with him, the cook took a few steps back so he could sit in one of the chairs by her herb-covered table. Then he pulled her softly into his lap, just like she'd been that first day they'd kissed, and explained himself before the healer's noggin suffered another flood of self-torturing assumptions. "What I mean to say is..." Nov continued, reaching up Kechaiya's back to begin unlacing her corset, one ribbon at a time, "...as gorgeous as you look in this dress, I don't need for you to be all done up like some fancy gift for me to tear open. Much as I'd like to do that from time to time."
Should she allow him, he would pull the last ribbon free, then carefully unpin the front until the whole corset could be removed and tossed aside. The merc had enough experience with the things to manage this one; he'd spent half of his youth at Happy Endings, after all.
He took a moment to feel the true contours of her waist. Gods above, how it was infinitely, unarguably a hundred times better. "Corsets and other neat little tricks are for women who want to lure. To trap. I was young and dumb once. I know a thing or two about that." Noven looked up at Chai then, all that drink having made him far more open than he'd normally been. But to hell with it.
"But you don't need any of that shyke," he finished with a hint of a growl, "because you already have me."
Nov kissed her then, hard and hungrily, unleashing just a little of all those pent up urges he'd caged for half the night. His grip around her dainty waist tightened and pressed her against his heat, tongue flickering across her lips now and then to seek an opening. And when it did, it explored the caverns of her mouth eagerly, as if doing so might quench some of this horrible thirst that had been steadily worsening from the first time their lips had met.
He broke the kiss eventually and reached up with feverish fingers to wipe away the pomade that once covered Kechaiya's lips so neatly and seductively. Between the booze and the dancing and now their unabashed intimacy, Noven felt like he'd been set on fire. Everything was burning and he didn't even know where to begin dousing.
Good thing he didn't want to be doused. At all.
What he did know, however, was that he'd finally found the Chai he'd become so enamored with underneath all of that careful preparation. Some men preferred their women dolled up and glamorous, Nov knew, and he could certainly see the appeal. But he'd always been something of a simpleton, as women like Brega, Jillene, and others often enjoyed reminding him.
What could he say? The man liked what he liked. Everything else was just some questionably needed icing on an already perfectly baked cake.
He could see her now against the glow of the crackling hearth, lips a bit smeared with purple--as his were likely as well--but still the same honest, strong willed, captivating doctor he'd come to care for far more than he'd realized.
"When something's caught, you hafta let it go, or skin it and cook it," Nov grinned, not quite done with his ridiculous metaphors. "But when something willingly stays...well, then you don't have to worry about it leaving. About making it do anything it isn't already doing."
He brought his hands a little higher along her waist, feeling the warm, pliant form of her sides as he drew his arms upwards, stopping just below her bosom.
The man beamed up at Kechaiya. "And this is much, much better."
