“I don’t writhe,” I told Zal. “There’s no writhing. Where do everyone’s feet go in an eleven-way? Is there orgy etiquette for feet? Why haven’t I been told about this!”
“Some people like feet in their face,” Zal said. “Nothing wrong with a little tongue to toe action.”
“I don’t want my feet sucked,” I told Gary. “I am not into feet sucking.”
“You don’t even know,” Gary said. “It’s never happened to you yet.”
I frowned down at my feet. I tried to imagine someone licking my toes and I cringed a bit. Then I thought of Ryan doing it and—
“Oh no,” I whispered. “I have kinks.”
“That’s not a bad thing,” Zal said. “Kinks are wonderful if they’re carefully and consensually explored. Why, last night I discovered I had a kink for eleven-ways.” He wiggled his finger
s over our shoulders in a slinky wave. Gary and I turned around to see a group of men and women, all with long blond hair, pale skin, and bright eyes, drinking in a corner. They all waved back and half of them giggled.
“You know,” Zal said, gaze lingering. “If you’re not ready for love, we could make this a twelve-way tonight. They’re only in town until tomorrow. You could invite us to come in.”
“My room’s not big enough,” I said faintly.
He grinned. “I meant come in you.”
“Oh gods,” I wheezed, putting my head on the bar.
“He’s slightly prudish,” Gary said to Zal. “My sweet, innocent little boy.”
“He’s made for love,” Zal said, as if he understood completely.
“Some people are hardwired that way,” Gary said. “Some of us want to get married and have babies, and others of us want to be tied up by a centaur and spanked.”
I thought about hyperventilating but decided against it.
“Are you okay?” Zal asked.
“Nothing!” I said, because it still made sense in my head.
“I don’t even know how we got to this point,” Gary said. “Again.”
“You often have conversations about kinks and orgies?” Zal asked.
“You’re making it worse,” I moaned.
“Love!” Gary said. “That’s what this was about. Love.”
“Love,” Zal agreed. “Kid, I’m going to lay it on the line for you.”
“I can’t take you seriously anymore,” I told him honestly. “I don’t know where your feet have been.”
Zal pointed behind me back at the trapeze artists. “See the big guy sitting on the end? His name is Oyev. That’s where they’ve been. Can I tell you about love now?”
“I don’t think that helped like you think it did,” I said.
“Why don’t you just tell the Knight Commander how you feel?”
I glared at him. “He’s affianced. To the Prince.” Then, belatedly, “I don’t feel anything. I don’t even know what you’re talking about. Because there’s nothing to talk about.”
“Really.”
“Really.”