Rolling for Love Read online

  “I love you,” Amorino breathes.

  “In this moment, I know you do,” I whisper. And it's true. It’s always been true. Why should I stop? Even if it’s just sex. Sex is simple. I’m so easy, not two weeks on the job yet, and I’m putty in his hands.

  Amorino’s mouth covers mine as I turn my head. His cold hands slip under my shirt and run up my sides. He doesn’t explore for long before he pulls my layers over and off my head. I can feel my nipples stiffen in the cold air. My bra is off with a twist of his fingers and Amorino’s cold hand quickly makes the rosy buds of my breasts swell.

  “Cold,” I say as I pull back from his mouth.

  “I love it when your nipples are hard. It makes me hard.” Amorino’s hands track from my breasts to my hips, sending shivers of pleasure up my sides. His hips grind into my stomach and I can feel his stiff dick. I reach my hands for his shirt and tug up as much as I can, but he’s almost a foot taller than me and without help there is no way I’m getting his shirt off.

  “You want me to take my shirt off?” he questions playfully. “Use your words.”

  “I’m not much for pillow talk,” I remind him. I rub my stomach harder against his dick.

  “I want to hear you ask,” Amorino insists. His hands travel back up my body and rub my breasts. His mouth hot on mine again.

  “Take your shirt off,” I moan when he releases my lips long enough to speak. Why do I always do what he says?

  “Good girl,” he growls. He walks to his desk and sheds both his layers of shirts. Shedding his bottoms, his naked glory is on full display against the closed shades of the little window. He beckons to me as he sits in his chair, hand absently stroking his fully erect penis. “You look cold,” he says. “Why don’t you come take a seat on me to warm up?”

  That’s cheesy as hell but needs pulse through me. I rest my back against his chiseled hairless chest; his hands caress my shoulders, his lips kiss my neck. He rubs his hands down my arms and then back up the inside of them. My insides shudder and I move my hips as his hands very gently go over my breasts again before running down my front. I unbutton my pants and unzip them. He moans against my neck as his hand glides over my silken undergarments, rubbing my clit until the cloth is slick with my own juices.

  “I want to fuck you so deep,” he whispers into my ear. “I want to slide everything I have inside of you until you can’t even think.” His fingers push aside my offending clothing and he slides a finger into me. I thrust forward and clench.

  “Do you want to feel me inside of you?” he asks as he slips a second finger in, his thumb finding my nub. I nod and arch my back to give his fingers better access. Instead, he pulls his hand out. “Use your words,” he insists, his voice full of lust as both his hands move back up to my breasts.

  “I want to feel you inside of me,” I quickly repeat. I start to stand, but Amorino’s hands keep me on his lap as he gestures to my bulky work shoes. I bend down to untie them and he bumps my weight to one of his legs. My junction lands on his hard quadriceps muscle. He slowly taps his foot; each tap sends a jolt of pleasure through my core and encourages me to speed up my shoe untying while distracting me at the same time. I hear the sound of a condom wrapper behind me. I cringe a little, had he planned this far in advance?

  Finally, I step out of my shoes and shimmy out of my pants. I start to turn toward Amorino, but he stops me, putting his hand on my hips and guiding me down, facing away from him. I’m beyond ready. But I take the time to tease him, rubbing my wet opening against just his tip as he attempts to position me.

  “You fucking tease,” he groans and I feel his hand on my hips tighten. The next time I tease him, his hands push down on my hips and I cry out as his long hard length fills me. His hands leave my hips and move up my body touching and rubbing everything as I begin to move up and down.

  “I want to feel you come around me.” Amorino’s bites into the side of my neck and one of his hands slaps the side of my butt cheek. “I want to feel your insides pulse because of me.” The hand slaps me again, playfully but with the sting of need. “I want you to feel my dick inside you for days.” The hand that slapped me moves to my clit and he begins gently patting it each time he slides in and out. His teeth sink into my neck again as I begin to move faster and faster. The hand on my clit changes from patting to rubbing.

  “Don’t stop,” I moan as I feel myself close to the edge. I come down hard on him again and he flicks my clit. My world stops as pleasure crashes through my body. My walls tighten and heat pulses through me. I clamp my mouth shut to stifle the sounds of my orgasm as his fingers flick my clit a few more times. I reach for his hand to still it as he grabs my hips encouraging me back into motion.

  “Did I make you come,” he purrs into my back side. I can hear the slap-slap-slap of my butt as I bounce on top of him.

  “You know you did,” I respond. He grunts and speeds up. Talking during sex is really not my thing. But I know it’s Amorino’s and, more than just talking, Amorino likes to have to work for it. Whether he admits it or not. He doesn’t like what comes easy to him.

  “Tell me who made you come,” he commands. I don’t say anything for a moment and one of his hands moves toward my oversensitive nub, his hips still bouncing me.

  “You did,” I say. I grab his hand before he has the chance to start working me up again and squeeze my inner walls. He grunts and swells inside of me. Muscles bunching, I bounce a few more times as he finds his own release. He takes a few deep breaths and then his teeth sink into the same spot on my neck that he has been biting this entire time. I bet that leaves a mark.

  “Yeah, I did,” Amorino says, his bite turns into a kiss. Before either of us can move the door thuds, the sound of someone trying to open it.

  “Amorino? I can see you sitting in your chair. Why is the damn door locked?” Devon’s voice.

  “I’m working with cash,” Amorino raises his voice. “Give me a minute.”

  We both scramble as quietly as we can to redress. I can’t find my bra, but my breasts are small enough that under sweaters, no one will notice. I open a folder of papers that I’m not even sure I need to look at as Amorino goes and unlocks the door.

  “I didn’t know we kept cash in here,” Devon exclaims as he walks in.

  “Not much, but enough,” Amorino says vaguely. “What do you need?”

  “Balfour found another wire,” Devon states. I can’t see Amorino, but I can hear his groan.

  “Are they at least on the right site this time?”

  “Yup,” Devon confirms. “I know they said this was just an open field, but there are just too many wires. I think something was here that got demolished. We need the surveyors back.”

  “Let me grab the right paperwork and we can go look.” Amorino walks back to his desk and starts looking through it.

  “Bottom drawer, third envelop,” I tell him. I put down the file that I wasn’t really looking at.

  “Are you joining us, um, Sandy?” Devon asks, clearly reaching for my name.

  “Sandy is done for the day,” Amorino says. “If we find out something else was here first, I will give you a call to look over the old plans.” I’m pretty sure he’s talking to me, but he’s rummaging through papers.

  “Sounds good,” I acknowledge. I start to clean up my desk, getting ready to leave.

  “Is that a bra?” Devon asks. I see where he’s looking and look over myself. A dark blue bit of lacy cloth that looks a lot like the bra I put on this morning is off to the side of my little desk.

  “I don’t even know half of what’s in here,” I state. I pick up my purse and double-check that I have my phone and my keys. Amorino’s laughter follows me out of the pod.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Campaign, Poogses’ Country Estate

  The Poogses’ country estate is located an hour drive away from civilization. It looks like a Victorian manor house transported to the twenty-first century. But tonight, It’s oddly quiet. Fog surr
ounds the grounds, muting sounds and bleeding the few lights from the windows into the inky black night.

  Goliath (Zack’s character)

  The unconscious young Poogse witch I have cradled in my arms feels like she weighs nothing. Her bronze skin glows against her green flannel pajamas. Her dark brown hair is perfectly styled with braids and ribbons. Except for the spot on the back that now has a raised lump.

  “We did not need to hit her,” I say again.

  “She’s not a willing kidnap victim,” Nozomi, dagger still in hand, deadpans.

  “It was too easy to get in here.” Trixy tries to change the topic. I agree with Trixy, but I still fume at Nozomi.

  “Way too easy,” Damion adds.

  “She’s under my protection. That was the deal,” I growl at Nozomi.

  “Then let’s splash some water on her face and let Trixy use her powers to control her. I’m sure that will be much less traumatic than just waking up in a new location,” Nozomi declares.

  “Can we tie her to you somehow?” Strider asks me.

  “Now you want to tie her up?” I raise my voice in protest.

  “Shh,” Trixy hisses. We all stop our chatter and listen. The house is too quiet. We had snuck in, took out three guards and two dogs, and easily found our target alone in her bedroom.

  “Let Ruby carry her,” Nozomi insists. “That way your hands are free to fight if we need them. That’s the other reason you came along, remember?”

  “But then Ruby can’t fight,” I point out.

  “Well, Ruby isn’t going to be doing much fighting anyway,” Nozomi sneered.

  Zack Hernandaz

  “Our sitter backed out last minute. I already apologized,” Steven defends quickly.

  “No worries, shit happens,” Joe responds. “Your kids are important. We understand.”

  “I think it’s more about priorities,” Sandy states.

  “Subtle,” I say sarcastically. I have a running bet with Steven on how long it takes her to leave this campaign. Maybe sooner rather than later at this rate.

  “Not in a bad way,” Sandy backpedals.

  “No, I got it Sandy. D&D should me more important than my kids,” Steven states sarcastically.

  “Now, children,” Joe interrupts, attempting to lighten the mood. “Not everyone can make every session. Sometimes even I will need to cancel, and if that isn’t ok, you can leave now. We should have covered this during character creation. I’m happy to take the blame.”

  I’m impressed at Joe’s peace-making skills. Although I’m annoyed that he isn’t targeting Sandy, the one causing the problem. But hey, he’d been giving her flirty eyes since she walked in the door.

  “Here is how I have worked it in the past. If you know you’re going to be gone you can designate someone to stolen car your character,” Joe explains.

  “Stolen car?” I repeat.

  “If you stole a car, how would you drive it?” Joe asks.

  “However I wanted to?” I respond timidly.

  “Exactly,” Joe says with a smile. “So, pick wisely who you leave your character with. If you can’t come last minute, then your character just follows the party around and if they have something helpful to roll on, I will roll for them. But otherwise, they don’t do anything.” Joe pauses and looks at everyone in turn. “Any questions or disagreements?”

  I look right at Sandy and she shakes her head like the rest of us.

  “Should I play Ruby tonight?” Steven asks. It’s his wife’s character, after all.

  “No,” Joe says. “I feel that the party still doesn’t know each other well enough to do that. I don’t know half of you. I only have back stories for Goliath and Strider.”

  “What did you think of mine?” I ask.

  “Very creative, though I feel like I have watched that cartoon,” Joe tells me with a smile.

  “Yes! I thought you might be too old to remember it,” I exclaim.

  “How old do you think I am?” Joe asks. “Wait, stop. I don’t care. Let’s see if you can leave the manor house alive. Cue maniacal laughter …”

  Goliath (Zack’s character)

  We decide to go out the way we came in. I walk in the front, with Ruby and Trixy behind me. After much bickering it was decided that Damion would carry our kidnap victim. I have made it clear that if the vampire bites her, I will kill him. Nozomi is going last to keep an eye on her half-brethren. The inside of the house is lavish, the carpets are padded and soft beneath my rough feet. The walls are covered in murals and plated with gold and silver.

  I slowly turn into the big room we fought in earlier, half expecting to find someone on high alert, or a new patrol about to sound the alarm. But It’s the opposite. I stop dead in my tracks. The bodies are gone … not just gone, but the room looks exactly as it had before the fight. I move my wings and bulk as far to one side of the hallway as I can, so my party can see around me.

  “Is this the room we came through?” I double-check.

  “It has to be,” Strider says. He peeks past me. “The bodies are gone,” he confirms.

  Ruby bends down and mutter something under her breath. Blue light stretches out from her fingers and spreads into the room. I hear a thud and a hiss from Strider. His body leans into mine, an arrow bolt sticking out from his shoulder.

  “Four demons, outlined in blue from my spell,” Lynda cries.

  “I love me some demon,” Trixy purrs. Her hands start to glow around the handle of her dire flail as she bolts into the room, followed quickly by Ruby.

  Damion goes in next. Very gently, almost reverently, placing the witch against the wall inside the room. A cruel-looking sword comes out of his billowing black robe. Strider pulls a light crossbow off his hip and shoots it into the fray.

  “Stay with the girl,” I command. With a bellow, I charge in last.

  “Is that the opening song to Gargoyles?” Sandy asks as music starts coming out of my phone.

  “I had it cued up for when Goliath got to join the fight,” I answer happily. “It’s just anticlimactic that I rolled last on initiative.”

  There are four of them and four of us in the room. Lynda’s spell makes the Poogses’ goons easier to hit. My club connects with one of their heads as I see my teammates slash and burn the dark elf with metal and magic. I chant the ancient words of holy fire, and in Helm’s name, my club burns with the brilliance of justice. We manage to quickly destroy our foe, but as the last one falls the room starts to blur. My eyes find Trixy’s, and I realize that she’s clear as day. The room around us continues to morph and change.

  “The room was an illusion,” Strider exclaims. I feel our bard’s strong grip on my arm, steadying me. The room is no longer blurring, but it doesn’t look anything like the room we came in. This room is grey. The walls covered in grime and film, the floor crunches with gravel and grit. There are no doors, windows or exits and the low ceiling is stifling.

  “Mwa-hah-aha-hah,” evil laugh echoes around the room.

  “Your evil laughter needs some help,” I say, looking at Joe.

  “Oh, give me your best one,” Joe challenges me.

  “Bwa-hah-ama-ha-ha,” I bellow.

  “You sound like a sheep.” Steven laughs with the rest of the table.

  “Do you have an evil laugh, Dillon?” I ask.

  Dillon ducks his head. “I didn’t spend four years at the Academy of Evil to give away secrets like that,” Dillon quotes.

  “Dr. Evil,” I say. “Right on, you’re cool.”

  “I want to roll dice,” Sandy demands, trying to get us to focus on the game. She’s such a kill-joy.

  “Roll dice, indeed,” Joe laughs.

  I look over. Strider stands next to our kidnappee, who’s still unconscious near the wall. I can’t inspect closely, but she looks as solid as the rest of us.

  “I was surprised the Kaatse family had so much information on our house.”

  I recognize the slight British accent as it echoes through the diml
y lit room. “Damion?” I spit. “What’s going on?”

  “Goliath, my dear friend.” Damion’s voice clarifies as his robed figure steps into the middle of the room. “What’s going on is obvious. You have been double-crossed. It was easy to get into the house because I let you in … am of the Poogse family! I infiltrated the rigged game to learn of the Kaatses’ plans but found something so much better. A team of brave, strong, and now trapped adventurers. Mwa-hah-aha-hah. Now, we will fill your hearts with enough fear to feed the slumbering witch, just waiting to bloom out of the body you so kindly brought with you. For she needs to feed off fear to be born again with her full powers!”

  I look again the unconscious witch we were meant to kidnap for the Kaatse family. She looks so innocent, though witches are known for their dark natures. Damion has betrayed us. How could I have not seen this coming?

  I start to charge him, but stop as one of Strider’s arrows harmlessly passes through the now foggy space Damion has vanished from. The two-faced vampire’s laughter rings through the room as five doors slowly light up, their glow oozing between unique runes that cover each of their surfaces.

  Joe stands and unfolds a piece of paper, flattening it out for us. The paper is a printout of a fairy door with runes all along the outside.

  “Is that Tengwar?” Sandy asks.

  “What’s Tengwar?” Joe asks back.

  “It’s the language Tolkien created for the elves in The Hobbit,” Dillon answers smoothly. “I haven’t read the books in a few years, but it looks like it to me too.”

  “I can’t really draw, so I found it on the internet. The doors look like this, but the script is a little more blocky and demonic in my mind,” Joe tells us, and then switches to his light English accent.

  “Five would-be kidnappers, five doors,” Damion’s voice booms all around us. “Face your fears and bring destruction to the mortal world.”