A/N: This is a one-shot I wrote set within the universe of a story a friend writes. Read the inspiration for this chapter here: https://www.wattpad.com/1100988473-hendrix-of-gor-the-baths-of-piedmont
“Hurry. At once,” the voice barks.
I hurry to comb Marcela’s copper hair before she drags the comb through mine. I reach out to untwist one of the golden chains draping over her breasts and brush her nipple in the process. She grins up at me.
“What do you think he’s like? The outsider?” she asks.
“Heavy of cock and coin, with any luck,” I reply, smiling and taking her hand.
We were summoned as soon as the outsider had stated his desire for a bath and a tarn race. Marcela and I are talented in both measures: drawing baths as well as drawing information. We are well rewarded for this information by the wealthy men controlling the races.
Enjoying the visitors and each other is merely a bonus.
We walk to the entrance, awaiting the rider from Vonda. Eyes downcast, we wait for acknowledgement before raising them to him. He’s tall and broad and rough in more ways than most, I imagine.