Love Is Always Write Volume 4

around the Mud Pit, throw out his final line of challenge and they could both stalk off in high dudgeon. Or low dudgeon, if that was possible. He wanted a shower. His clothes were stuck to him, his eyes burned from sweat, and as soon as he got back to his trailer he was shaving his damned hair off.
    A couple more faked body and head blows got them in range, and Jay wound his fist in the neckline of Simon's gambeson. He threw a fist at Simon' head, Simon jerked back, the rope gave way and Simon grabbed him. Fuck .
    ****
    Jay was a hell of lot heavier than he looked, and the mud a whole lot less forgiving than Simon expected. Not that he had expected to fall into any. Simon wheezed and blinked, wondering where all the oxygen had gotten to. Jay looked about as surprised as Simon felt, which didn't make things any better.
    "Brilliant plan," he managed, and heaved Jay off to the side. "Lackwit." He sat up. God, the mud reeked. And he was sitting in it.
    The two peasants skipped into range. "You'd think fine lords such as these would leave us to our filth," the taller one, Brett, whined, giving Jay a death glare. "Don't they have their own pits to wallow in?"
    Jay executed a neat move, more Bruce Lee than Ivanhoe, and flipped onto his feet with no apparent effort. He rounded on Brett. "A pox damn you, you muddy rascals. I should give you a sound thrashing for mocking your betters."
    Simon shook mud off his hands. This was absolutely disgusting. For all the times he'd come off horses, he'd never actually fallen into mud. He took his time getting up, grimacing at the feel of mud caking the back of his linen pants, making the ass even baggier than normal. The clothes better not have to be dry-cleaned. Something dripped onto his neck. Oh God, it was in his hair. He curled his lip at Jay, running around, yelling and threatening Brett and John, entertaining the crowd.
    Good for him. Simon wanted a shower and a drink. Several drinks. Another blow job would be nice too, but there was fuck-all chance of that happening.
    He turned around in time for Jay to sweep him off his feet, and not in a good way. Simon caught himself, went down on one knee and a hand, mud squelching up between his fingers in a totally revolting fashion. He glared up at Jay. "I'm going to hurt you for that."
    "I give you leave to try, my lord," Jay drawled, and that was it, the last fucking straw.
    Simon had put up with Jay's crappy attitude the entire time they'd rehearsed together at Alan's farm, the way Jay avoided him anytime they weren't working or rehearsing. He'd let the monosyllabic answer thing slide, ignored the sneers, pretended he didn't notice the nasty edge to their scripted encounters. They were all bad-tempered with the heat and humidity, he got that, but he'd had enough.
    Jay went down backwards when Simon tackled him, and they slid about two feet, grinding the mud into hair and faces. Jay bucked, nearly dislodging Simon, and grabbed for his hair.
    "Nice. Way to fight like a girl," Simon whispered, and jerked his head back. Jay was on him in a heartbeat, slamming him flat and getting a knee a little too close for comfort. "Watch it."
    Jay narrowed his eyes, an odd smile twisting his mouth. He flexed his hips, and Simon swallowed whatever he had been going to say. Jay licked mud-spattered lips. "That better?" The sultry tone flashed heat down Simon's spine, and another sinuous hip movement took his breath away. He'd seen Jay naked, the full Monty, so the size of the rod pressing into Simon's thigh was kind of a surprise. Where the hell had he hidden that ?
    Simon shoved him off, needing to get on his feet. His brain scrambled for a line, found one. "You are not worth another word, else I'd call you knave." He flicked his hands, trying to dislodge some of the mud. He worked with horses; he knew all about being dirty, but this was … gross.
    "More of your conversation would infect my brain." Jay grinned, damn him, and the way he breathed, almost panting, added weight to the heat in Simon's groin. What he wouldn't give to grab Jay right here, right now, and see how that hard-on fit his hand while he got a good taste of Jay's grin.
    From off in the crowd, somebody said, "That's Shakespeare," like they'd committed a crime. He and Jay both glared at the guy, the first thing they'd agreed on yet. Simon studied Jay's harsh profile, considering. Perhaps Jay wasn't as immune to Simon as he'd thought. Simon caught himself before he smiled. He might get