CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“THIS IS RIDICULOUS,” I complained, my fingers working desperately on the buckles holding Walker’s armor on. “We’ll hurt ourselves. Or someone will see us. Or the horses will run off. Or Moth will eat my gambeson. Stupid buckle!”
Walker snarled something as he ripped at the leather buckle on the shoulder of his breastplate. Truly, what we were considering doing was idiotic in the extreme. Voyeuristic aspects aside, it was ridiculous to think we could possibly make love while one or both of us was covered in protective armor.
That didn’t stop me from ripping my mail hauberk off, though. I had it, my gambeson, and my tights off before Walker had the first buckle of his pauldron—the shoulder armor—off. I stood in nothing but my tunic fighting with his buckle until I realize
