38: Bad memories

*Tristan*

In the late afternoon I stand at the window of my office, looking out on the street, watching as people bustle by.

I do not know why I had not returned to my residence with Eve. I had wanted her, by the Goddess, how I had wanted her.

Standing there in my apartment with the lights from outside, and the dim glow inside casting her in shadows that ebbed and flowed with her movements, she had been a seductress. Her smoky voice and her throaty laughter had added to the allure.

My eyes slide close as I remember the kiss. She is becoming quite masterful at parrying. I had almost given her rein to wrap her arms around me, almost. I had felt the brush of her hands, craved the touch as much as it repelled me. My chest had tightened, sweat had popped out on my forehead, and I had known that I would shove her aside, possibly hurt her, so I had snatched her wrists before any damage was done.

I do not want her first time to be in my den of iniquity, or in my carriage, or in the stre