“Hard to tell what you’re thinking with that mask on,” she tapped the metal tip of the beak. He backed up a step and found himself pressed against the doorway. She pursued him, trying to see in through the glass of his mask. Her soft breasts pressed against his leather cloak. He dry swallowed. She glanced down his shoulders and chest that she was pressed up against and smiled softly. “Could be an interesting client?” she mused to him. Eoin blinked. He knew she couldn’t see his face under the mask, but she could feel his body just fine. He shifted, trying to escape the press of her skin against his cloak.
” ‘e’s the person Aunty wanted me ta’ ‘elp ’round town. ‘e paid upfront f’r the services,” Fearchar tossed her the sack of coins. She eased away from the doc, gently rubbing her hip against him as she walked to her husband. Eoin breathed in a deep gulp of air and stilled the electric shock that shot through his extremities.
The short woman pulled the coin purse open and admired the money inside. “Better than my month of work,” she cooed happily.
“There’s ‘nough in there that we’d nev’er ‘ave ta work again,” Fearchar smiled up at her.
“I like my work, and I know you’d get board of doing nothing all day,” she teased, handing the bag back to her husband.
He sighed happily, “too true, I’d get right tired a’ sitting about the house and toss’n you.” He flashed her a sly smile.
She leaned over and kissed him. “I don’t know, that could be fun,” she stole one of the sausages off the pan and made off to the bedroom, not before he could pinch her butt.
Eoin set down his bag and box. What…what is going on here? Is she a prostitute. What the hell is this? He asked.
Fearchar watched him, steadily trying to follow his hands. “Ye cursing me out?” Fearchar asked, glaring at the man evilly. Eoin sat down on the floor, not sure what to make of the situation. He looked up at the ceiling trying to regain balance in his head.