Desert Tales by Melissa Marr

arm.
    If Rika had only her desires to consider, they’d spend more time touching and less time talking, but she knew she was being unfair. She’d had time to learn about him before he knew she existed. Still, she let herself simply enjoy his caress for a moment more before asking, “What else do you need to know?”
    â€œEverything. What you did before we met.” Jayce stepped away, clearing his throat briefly as if the temptation was more than he wanted. “I just want to know everything about you, your world, your history. Everything .”
    She knew he suspected there were plenty of things she hadn’t told him—especially when she slipped and commented on things she wouldn’t know since they’d only just begun dating. The times they spent together, unbeknownst to him, had taught her so much about him. She’d already felt like she’d known him so well . . . at least, she had thought so until he took her into his arms. Then she realized that there was this entire part of him she couldn’t have known until now.
    When Rika thought about her life, about memories she’d tried for years to ignore, there was nothing in her remembrances that she wanted to share with Jayce. She’d made a bad choice, and she’d suffered for it until the next girl made that same foolish choice. Then she’d hidden herself away until a strange fox faery slowly lulled her into friendship. These were not memories she wanted to share—or even have.
    As calmly as she could, she told Jayce, “ Nothing about the past makes me happy. It’s now that matters. Who cares about what happened then?”
    When only silence met her words, Rika wondered if she needed to say more, but then he brushed his lips over hers.
    â€œIt’s good that I want to know everything about you.” He offered her a teasing smile. “You really aren’t good at the dating thing, are you?”
    â€œWell, I’ve only done it one other time.” She tried to match his playful tone, but failed. So she kissed him and then added, “And he wasn’t as exciting as you. He was just a jerk of a faery.”
    â€œRight. I’m more fun than a faery.”
    â€œHe didn’t want me , Jayce,” she said quietly. “And the person he pretended to be wasn’t real. I wasn’t a person to him; I was a game.”
    â€œThen he was a fool.” Jayce rested his forehead against hers. Their bodies touched, and in the way he had of making things seem better with the right words and gentle caresses, he eased the shadows she was trying to forget. “Don’t make everyone suffer because of it.”
    Rika stepped away from him, trying to think of the words to give him what he sought without surrendering her past. “I’m trying not to. I’m happy now . I made some mistakes; then, I came to the desert trying to forget them. Now, I’m with you. The rest doesn’t matter.”
    â€œSooner or later, it will. I want to be with you. That means I need to understand your world.” Jayce took her hand.
    â€œ This is my world too,” Rika objected. “I wish it was the only one. . . .”
    He tugged her forward, but instead of continuing the conversation, he resorted to the only thing other than kisses guaranteed to make her smile. “Art fix?”
    â€œArt fix,” she echoed. “Did you find something new? Where? Did you do it? We could run if you tell me where.”
    He laughed. “Patient one,” he teased. “It’s just this way. Let’s walk.”
    They walked along the street for a short distance, and then turned into a shadowy alley. Graffiti decorated the side of the buildings—intricate murals and abstract sketches, faces and artists’ tags.
    Rika leaned her head on Jayce’s shoulder and looked up. “Good dimensions with the reds . . .”
    â€œToo busy,” Jayce