Taylor was silent. After a moment, she said softly, “I’m his friend. Sometimes I think I’m his only friend. He’s just lonely and depressed. I don’t want to hurt him more than he’s already hurting. It’s just that . . . the pressure sometimes makes me sick of being in the game. I’d have quit long ago if it wasn’t for . . .”
“The guilt?”
She nodded.
“Some friend he is.”
“He’s depressed.” She gave him another bright smile, clearly trying to deflect the situation. “As for me, I’m the opposite of depressed. How can I be anything but wonderful with you here? And at this awesome convention?”
“I’m starting to think the convention was a mistake, especially if you’re sick of the game.”
“A beach would have been a nice alternative,” Taylor teased, then slid her arms up around his neck. “But it’s the thought that counts, and this is super thoughtful. And I’m going to have lots of fun as long as I’m with you.”
Loch leaned down and kissed her upturned face, unable to resist. “Just do me a favor,” he murmured between quick pecks. “No gaming this weekend, and no Sigmund.”
“Fine to both,” she agreed readily. “I already told him I was going to be completely unavailable all weekend.”
He didn’t point out that Sigmund had been texting her non-stop for the last half hour, clearly thinking he’d get his way regardless. “Mmmhmm.”
“Let’s just leave it alone for now, all right?” She kissed him again, and the tip of her tongue flicked against his lips in a promising tease.
Seemed like now Loch was being manipulated himself with a few kisses and Taylor’s sunny smile. He hesitated, then said, “You’ll talk to him when you get back? Tell him to leave you alone?”
“I promise.” She toyed with a lock of his hair. “Want to go to the Chaldassian banquet tonight?”
“I might be able to answer that if I had a clue what it was.”
Taylor grinned. “It’s a dinner put on by the con that’s basically a mock-up of a traditional Chaldassian feast. Chaldassi is the kingdom in the game, remember?”
“Ah. And this would involve you wearing your costume that consists entirely of a scarf and tape?”
She grinned wickedly. “It just might.”
“Then I think dinner sounds like an excellent idea.”
***
Though Loch had an idea of what Taylor’s costume entailed, he was still stunned at the sight of her as she emerged from the bathroom in her outfit. Her glorious body, normally covered by layers of clothing, was on display for all to see. The tiny scarves that made up the top of the costume barely seemed decent, and her cleavage looked magnificent . . . and rather bare. The costume was open from neck to navel, with only the two scarves making her top half covered, and even then that was questionable. The scarves looped back, and at her waist she wore a third scarf that was tied at the side, like a tiny miniskirt.
She put her hands on her hips and strutted out of the bathroom for his approval. “How do I look?”
“Naked,” Loch said bluntly. He was both aroused at the sight of her in the costume and a little worried that she’d be going out in public with so much skin on display. Clearly he was going to have to watch over her like a hawk so no one tried to pull one of those tantalizing little scarves off.
In her normal clothes, she was cute, sweet, approachable.
In this costume? She was a vixen, all curves and soft skin. He wanted to touch her and peel off those scanty layers . . . and he wanted to throw a blanket over her at the same time.
But her expression fell. “You don’t like my costume?”
Loch immediately felt like an ass. It was her body; she could dress it however she wanted. His jealousy was his own problem. “You look incredible,” he admitted. “I’m just imagining all the heads I’m going to have to break for looking at you the wrong way.”
She smoothed her hands down the front scarves of the costume, and dear god, he saw nipple. “They’re supposed to look. It’s if they touch that’s the problem.” Taylor winked at him and then gave a saucy little walk across the room.
“I’m not going to be able to walk,” Loch told her, adjusting his erect cock in his slacks. Hell. The sight of her in that costume was doing all kinds of things to him. Her back was almost as bare as her front, and when she walked, he saw the little dimples at the base of her spine that made him want to grab her and push her down onto the bed for a round of quick and utterly filthy sex.
“Poor baby,” she teased, casting him an impish look over her shoulder. “Want me to fix that for you?”
“If you do, we’re not leaving this room tonight.” Not that it would be a problem for him . . .
“In that case, you’re on your own,” Taylor said pertly, and pulled her freshly ironed cloak off the ironing board. “Don’t worry, the cloak will help.” She settled it over her shoulders and then pulled the hood over her face. “Better?”
“I’m not sure,” he said, studying her. Now instead of intense curves and tons of bare skin, she was a lot of midnight-blue cloak and a pair of barely-clothed tits that jutted out from the cloak and jiggled when she walked.
She chuckled and waved a hand in the air, as if brushing aside his concerns. “I know I look damn good in this thing. Come on. Let’s go down to the banquet!”
***
Guarding over Taylor in her finery proved to be a full-time job. As they went down to the banquet hall, Loch noticed that the vast majority of attendees were in costume. Some had cheap, handmade costumes, some had lavish sets of armor, and almost all of them were male. And every single one of those men was eyeing Taylor and her magnificent, barely covered breasts.