Recent content by Rob Yew

"No?" he muttered against her lips, against her cheek, his mouth all over her. "Then show me." He could not deny the thrill that shot through him at the touch of her hand on his cheek. His good cheek. The one without the scar. He should hate to be touched, especially by her. He should fear...

"That right?" Hate it. Yeah. Yeah, he would hate it too. That didn't stop Rob from closing the scant distance between her crooked smile and his scarred mouth. He pressed his lips to hers fiercely, like he was delivering a lethal thrust with a knife. Only he didn't pull the knife away except to...

“No,” he rasped into the hollow of her throat as his hand released her neck and roved over her shoulder, then down the side of her, tracing every curve above the leathers. “I fucking hate it.” Cunning maybe. Annoying as hell. Couldn’t cut her out if she’d hung onto a piece of critical...

He followed her down, propping himself up on one hand beside her head in the grass, while the fingers of the other curled around her throat. He could feel the pulsing of her heart beneath his hand. Quickening as he shifted his weight forward so that he hovered over her, body between her legs...

Pick out a dress for her, as if they were at an Allirian ball. Rob would have scoffed at the idea, but he’d seen what some of the women wore and the cuts of their dress. He wondered what styles an assassin had in such a closet. She kept talking and his lips thinned at her words. Caught her...

Rob’s brows drew together in a scowl at the woman who sat cross legged before him. Not a thing? “I thought fae couldn’t lie,” he snapped back, tugging again at his bandage. The wound itched. It often did. How could she say she did not like a thing about him when his face lay carved open like...

His one good eye followed her bowl as she set it to the side, then moved slowly back to her face. Her own eyes peered at him, blue as the sky above and framed by hair the color of beaten gold, or maybe the wheat in summer’s harvest, a great sea of gold stirred rippling with a soft breeze. She...

“Hm,” he replied. It had been a long time since Rob thought of his own family. Hundreds of years of elven lineage erased in a single Dreadlord attack full of fire and death. He spooned a portion of stew into his mouth and chewed slowly. Yeah, he knew something of enemies. He left most of...

A flat-eyed gaze stared back at her. "Uh huh." He took his bowl, sniffed it suspiciously again to see if the scent changed. Didn't smell like she'd put anything in it. But you never could trust the faeblooded. The way she stood closer to him made his eye narrow and he looked her up and...

"Uh huh," Rob snorted, but followed behind her as they went about the market, feeling like some sort of hound as she saw to her errands. It annoyed him, but he needed the other half of the information she claimed to have. After she finished with her shopping list, Rob led her back to the camp...

Rob's one good eye watched the false tears tracking down her face, her lower lip trembling as if in terror of his presence. Such full lips. Very plump. She'd probably had plenty of suitors after a kiss. Or a bite. Her plan wasn't a bad one. The first one, but as for the second. . . He covered...

The pull on Rob's wrist brought them nearly nose to nose. Rob went the extra inch to make it true, 'til his one good eye stared into the depths of one o' hers. "Clever girl," he grinned wickedly. He did not in fact speak either. Some elves bothered to learn other languages, but many found...

Rob's head tilted to the side so he could better study her with his good eye. She leaned against a tall pole, arms crossed. Trying to get a reaction out of him with this new information. His lips pursed firmly and he placed a hand on the pole, just above her head, and leaned forward until he...

"You have friends?" A quizzical expression mangled the elf's lopsided features, then the depths of his green eye flashed with mischief. "Funny." He walked with a thumb through the loop of his belt, deceptively lackadaisical as his fingers sat in easy reach of the thin dagger that sat on his...

Rob glanced at the page as he took it, scowling the more he roved over it. "What? When the time comes? We need precision here, Lyria. Details matter or my crew die. You're going to hold out on me 'cause you're scared of a double cross, that it?" A shame, really, this would foil his double...