Roann the Warden: Part Two (special preview)

Finding out that kisses weren’t a special event to the warden was a real kick in the pants. You thought you and Roan had shared something special. Instead he took it as a sign of welcome and being home. To him it was like a handshake to you. You wanted to pout, but you felt ridiculous doing so when Roann had no clue what was going through your head.

At least most of your silver had been returned. You could at least sell what you had and make some money for the family when you were able. Money would be tight for a while, at least until the snow cleared. You luckily had friends and neighbors who could help you in return for some labor around their homes. You were set on doing that until spring.

“You look lost in thought.”

Roann’s voice lifted you from being lost inside your own mind. You glanced towards him, seeing he was taking a brush to his hair.

“A little,” you murmured.

Roann approached and offered you his brush.

The smoothed handle was made of bone and was warm from his big hands. “Do you want me to-”

Roann instantly sat on the ground before you. “Brush it.”

“Oh-” You were a bit flummoxed. It felt extremely intimate. “Sh-sure!” You grabbed a handful of his hair. It was thick and heavy but felt so soft to the touch. As you dragged the brush through his hair you noticed Roann’s body responding. His back arch, barreling his chest and dropping his shoulders. His neck bent back and you could peer the strange expression on his face.

“You really do have beautiful hair.” You weren’t sure exactly what to say, but you felt you needed to say something. “I know if I even tried growing mine out, it would never be this nice.”

A low growl rumbled in Roann’s chest.

You swallowed your heart back down into your chest. “It must be a family trait, because Roka had lovely hair too.”

Roann sniffed in agitated way.

“So uh-” You tried to think as fast as you could. “Your stab wound, is it okay?”

“I had had worse.”

You should have known he’d say something like that, but you were still knocked off guard. “Oh yeah, I’m sure.” You bit down on your lip, trying to think again.

“It is my hands that bother me,” Roann moaned.  He raised his hands, some of his fingers were wrapped and there were bandages upon his palms. “They make my usual work cumbersome.”

“I can help with anything you need!” You offered this eagerly.

Roann chuckled. “You will not have to stay here much longer. Once the storm subsides I will lead you out and to a path you know.”

You pouted. “Until then.”

Roann moaned again as the brush ran along his scalp. His lips parted, and his mouth opened wider than you usually saw. You purposefully made the same stroke again and his hand fell into his lap.

“Does this feel good?” You asked.

“I’ve never had someone brush my hair before,” he quivered.