.. there was little else to grab in such a rush.“Aye, that they are, the rotten bastards,” the Hound acknowledged as he tore off a bit of badly ov...rcooked chicken himself.Thankfully, there was some mulled wine to make it more tolerable, though they were rapidly running low on that supply as well. Seven Hells, few things were more civilized than mulled wine, and what a blessed warmth it gave one on an accursed, frostbitten Winter’s morn! As for Ragnar Slait, he had to take a very quick piss, and. I asked the first thing that came to mind. “Why do you need to know?”She studied my face for a moment. “Because you’re like me,” she said, with only half the conviction her question had behind it.I had no idea what she was talking about. I made a deliberate sweep of her breasts and crotch with my eyes, ending up with her eyes again. “No, I’m not.”She shook her head. “I know you’re male,” she said, running her hand over my chest, down my stomach and to my crotch. Even with as messy as I was, she. More

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