I leaned down and kissed her, and we lost ourselves in one another for a good amount of time—tasting, teasing, lips and tongues and blind wandering caresses, leaving little unexplored.
The pressure building in me was too much to ignore any longer. I centered myself over her and used my hands to slide hers across the sheets and above her head. She looked at me and nodded. "Uh, huh," she said, her words dripping with anticipation. As our bodies merged, a fleeting concern of whether I was going to be blasted in the face with her white eye-beam magic flashed through my head, but I didn't have time for such rational worries. So, I pushed the thought from my mind and got on with it.
Within a few seconds, dents and cracks were appearing in the wall behind the headboard and bed posts. Nobody behind that wall. The quickest of thoughts was all I needed to dismiss any notion of stopping or changing our position. Alara was calling my name once again. "Den! Yes, Den!" I was plowing ahead full-force—too much momentum to do anything else. I couldn't get a word out and I guessed she couldn't either, so intense was the motion. But I saw the biggest smile stretch across her face I'd ever seen on a woman—okay, the roster of experiences was limited, granted. Her breasts bounced wildly against my chest and against her chin.
The battle-scarred massive bed held out until the end. Then, just as I collapsed onto Alara and she exhaled with absolute satisfaction, the thick wooden bed frame underneath our heads splintered and collapsed too. I felt the impact with the floor as the force passed through the bed and through Alara, into my loins.
She wrapped her arms around me and the two of us held onto one another. I knew any doubts she'd had about us must've disappeared.
Chapter 14
What was odd was how long it had been since Nithia had left to grab some food from the kitchen. Alara and I had already gotten out of bed—what was left of the bed. We'd washed up and gotten dressed. Didn't take long, though, to put on a couple of leather tire flaps for me and a two-piece for Alara, fit for whatever beaches Galderia had to offer.
I was thankful to have gotten through the romp in the covers this time without someone knocking on the door at the end, but now I was anxious for some of whatever food Nithia was supposedly getting. Even if it was the weird shit we had last time.
I walked to the foot of the bed, which now rested at even more of a cock-eyed angle thanks to three of the four corner posts being out of commission. I sat, then fell back, resting on the bed with my legs hanging off from the knees. Alara joined me, taking a similar position next to me.
I studied the ceiling, looking again for any sign of damage from the light which had emitted from her eyes when I'd given her a hand earlier. I couldn't find anything wrong with the ceiling, which was made from smooth wood planks, running the same direction as the length of the bed.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked.
"Nothing, really. Just checking out the ceiling."
"Oh, I see." She looked at it for a second before continuing. "Not really much to look at."
She was right. I turned my head toward her. She was much more worth seeing. She turned and caught my gaze. We looked into each other's eyes without speaking for a few moments. It felt good. I had a sense of peace. I knew all of it would've been nothing more than another one of my daydreams a week ago—my muscled-up body, her voluptuous curves, lying on the bed after knocking the paint off the walls, now just soaking up the quiet moment together like it was exactly the way it was supposed to be. But it was real. Totally bad-shit crazy fantasy land. But real, nonetheless.
She looked up at the ceiling again. "I need to rebuild the order."
"Oh." I think I knew what she meant, but I really just wanted her to know I was listening.
"I know it will take time." She looked at me. "To find the right women. To train them. Months." She looked up again. "Years, maybe."
"That's a big undertaking," I said, trying to show I was taking what she was saying seriously, which I was.
She looked at me again, nodding, even though her cheek was against the blanket.
"Do you think Nithia will…" I stopped myself, remembering how Nithia had shot down the idea of assuming her sister's place in the order. Oh, sore spot. Shouldn't have…
"It's not her path," Alara said, not an ounce of resentment in her voice. I knew she'd accepted Nithia wasn't priestess-hood material.
Priestess-hood. Can you say that? Priesthood. Priestess-hood.
Someone gave the door three quick knocks. I turned and saw it open.
Nithia walked in. Tara was with her.
"Hey, you two," I said. "Uh, where's the food?"
They had nothing with them.
"Sorry about that," Nithia said, coming over to me. I sat up. "We can have some sent up in a few minutes. Honestly, I forgot all about it."
Alara sat up too. "Well, room service is already here. So, who's going to bring up the food?"
I tossed a look of disapproval to Alara. I knew she wasn't Tara's biggest fan, but her remark had some unnecessary cat claws. She didn't respond to me.
Nithia put her hands on her hips and looked at Alara. "Tara's here because we've been hanging out." She gave Alara a bit of a scowl, but quickly looked back to Tara and smiled. "We're basically becoming best friends." She was pretty animated when she made the claim.
Tara looked just as gushing about the pronouncement. "Forever."
"BFFs," I said.
All three of them looked at me, but Alara said, "What?"
I gestured with a hand as I clarified. "It's a term, where I come from."
"Yeah," Nithia said. "I get it. Best friends forever."
She and Tara giggled.
Alara did not.
Holy shit, what are sorority girls doing all the way out here?
"So," Alara said, cutting dryly into the moment of fun the other two were having, "you're probably pretty busy most of the time, Tara, aren't you? Helping Cormac with the inn, I mean?"
It was a legitimate question, sure. And I probably wouldn't have thought anything odd in her asking it, if it weren't for the fact that I knew she'd rather Tara not be around.
Tara took a few steps toward the bed as she answered Alara. "Well, you know. I'm the preferred girl when it comes to room service."
Oh, come on!
"Yes," Alara said. "I thought as much, when you came to the door last time."
Seriously? I thought we worked this out already.
I felt like a referee watching for any below-the-belt punches—ready to step in and give a warning, or send them both to their corners if need be.
Nithia raised her hand as if she was about to say something, but Tara got in one more jab. "I don't mind serving it up." She glanced at me. "Especially when the guests are nice. Besides," she looked at Alara again, "if we left everyone to only what was in their rooms, they'd starve."
"Ooh!" Alara shuffled to get off the bed. I knew she was pissed. I didn't blame her, but I quickly stood and embraced her as she rose. "Alright, you two. That's enough," I said.
"Yeah, seriously." Nithia looked back and forth at both of them.
It took a few seconds, but eventually Tara and Alara both apologized.
I faced Alara, so that the other two couldn't see me as I mouthed to her, "What's wrong?"
She looked up at me and I saw her eyes get a little glassy looking, like she had a tear building.
I glanced back at Nithia and Tara. The two of them had walked over to the half-moon table beside the door. I wasn't sure what they were doing, but I took the moment to reassure Alara. I held her hands. "This isn't going away. You know that, right? You and me.“
I meant it, and I was glad it seemed to pull her back from her tears almost immediately. But I felt weird saying it.
Listen to Mr. Sensitive here.
Honestly, I had a weird gut reaction to how I was acting. I mean literally. Maybe it was panic. Maybe my manhood was standing up for me, as if to say, "Hey, dumbass. Don't go all gushy on me." I liked what Alara
and I had, but I was a lifetime away from a white picket fence and a dog.
She pulled her hands from mine and firmly took hold of me at my upper arms. She sharply inhaled, then exhaled. Her expression was much more calm, maybe even resolute.
"You're right," she said. "I was just…Nevermind." She smiled at me, then stepped past me to my right and walked toward Nithia and Tara.
I turned and watched her. Oh, shit. I thought she was about to go savage babe on…well, the other savage-land babe. Maybe it was that odd little compartment in my subconscious which kept me from stopping her—you know, the for-some-reason-men-like-seeing-two-hot-chicks-go-at-it part of the subconscious. I raised my arm, supposedly trying to grab her before she got across the room, but that's about all I managed.
She came up behind Tara—who, along with Nithia, was facing the table and didn't see her coming. Then she reached out and…tapped her gently on her shoulder?
Tara turned around, and so then did Nithia. Alara raised both arms and…gave Tara a big hug.
What? I'm confused.
I didn't dare go over to them. I kept a safe distance and watched, looking for any clues which might help me understand what was happening.
The hug lasted several seconds, which seemed really long to me, considering I was expecting a big-ass slap, and then some. I wasn't routing for it. Truthfully. But I must've missed a beat, or something.
Girl telepathy, maybe.
Finally I got up the courage to go see what was going on. I could hear giggling and all three of them were talking, probably loud enough for me to catch what they were saying, but I was still stunned, apparently. When I came up next to them, all three of them turned to me.
"I'm sorry, Den," Alara said.
"Me, too," Tara said.
"Uh, okay." Stupefied.
I glanced back toward the bed, raising my hand with my forefinger extended. My mouth was wide open. I wanted to ask how everything changed so fast from a few minutes ago.
The three of them looked at me. They seemed to enjoy what was probably evident confusion on my face.
"You're the Guardian, Den," Alara said. "I realized that means… Well, I'll tell you later."
Tara whispered to Nithia, "Huh?"
"I'll explain later," Nithia whispered back to her.
"Besides," Alara continued, "I was being unreasonable." She looked at Tara. "No. I was being mean."
Tara shrugged and smiled at her.
"Ooh." Nithia hugged the other two. "I'm so glad you two cleared this up."
I took a couple of seconds to see if any thoughts floated into my mind which might help me understand the three of them.
"Yeah," I said. "I got nothing." I shook my head slightly.
I walked back to the bed and dropped onto it, back against the covers.
"Den," Nithia said. "You okay?"
"Den?" Alara said.
"Den?" Tara said.
They left me on the bed for a good while. All three of them went downstairs, after they told me they were going to get the food Nithia had forgotten before.
"Mm hmm," I said, just before they left. After a few minutes on the bed, with the room now quiet, I decided at least sleep made sense. So, that's what I did.
Chapter 15
I was sitting at a table downstairs, having a drink—something called black-brewed ale. I had a smoked turkey leg—already eaten. It was awesome. If I didn't know better I'd have thought it came straight from a renaissance festival food stand. Cormac spotted me for it, which was good, since tossing out a gold coin for a turkey leg and a drink would be a bit conspicuous.
Left on my plate was half a loaf of bread with seeds and some unidentifiable bits in it to munch on. I'd taken one bite so far, trying to avoid the mystery ingredient as much as possible. The old lady working for Cormac brought it out straight from the oven, evidently. The bread smelled good—deception. The taste was like the time I took a sample from a crunchy hipster at a stand outside Whole Foods—organic gluten-free sustainably-harvested don't-hurt-the-tree-spirits poison.
The place wasn't too crowded, which was nice. I'd slept like a rock, but despite feeling rejuvenated, I still wanted a little peace and quiet. With only five other people in the room, each minding their drinks and their private conversations, I was enjoying the moment.
I'd only seen Cormac briefly when I first came down. He and I had a few friendly words, then, after telling his serving wench—okay, the nice older lady who brought the food—he excused himself to get some things done. I didn't ask what—innkeeper duties, I figured.
Tara evidently was out somewhere, possibly with Nithia, maybe even with Alara too. "Your women said to tell you they'd be back before too long," Cormac said before he went to do his tasks. There would've been no relaxing with Tara around, I knew. So, all the girls being on an outing was fine with me. Wonder if they've gone shopping, I thought, trying to imagine if Darguna had any stores even vaguely like the ones in Austin and every other decent-sized city in the U.S.
Battle Bras Limited. Stone Hut Decor Emporium. Bedlam, Bloodbath, and Beyond.
I was taking a second look at the hipster loaf on my plate when someone flung open the front door to the inn. The sound of it whacking against the wall got me to look up.
"She needs help!" The shirtless elderly man standing in the doorway was hunched with a woman's arm over his bony shoulders. He clearly was struggling to hold the young woman upright. I could see him shaking slightly. He was little more than wrinkled skin over a small frame of bones.
"What the-" I recognized her. She looked like she'd been through hell. She was covered in dirt from her messed up brunette hair to her bare feet, and she had a few small scratches on her unclothed legs—none of them dangerously severe though. It was clear she was hanging most of her weight on the poor elderly villager's shoulders. Her expression was almost vacant, like she was barely holding on to consciousness. The shirt she wore—clearly the man's—draped low enough to cover her crotch, but the faded blue cloth rode higher on the sides due to her curvy hips. I could see she had no panties. The shirt was a pull-over—no buttons. It was tight over the chest—obviously not fit to a woman, especially one with ample breasts like hers.
I heard voices and a few other chairs move, as other people in the room no doubt rose from their seats to help, but I had already done the same and was rushing to the door.
"Monica!" I reached her just as the old man buckled under the strain of holding her up. She didn't respond as I extended my arms, catching her right as the man's knees gave way.
How the hell did she get here?
I stood holding her in my arms, horizontally, her neck on my left forearm, my other under her knees. I had scooped her up—a lot easier than I expected, thanks to my barbarian muscles. The old man staggered to the nearest table and sat. I'm not sure if she recognized me. She only glanced at me for a moment before her eyelids drooped then shut.
Several other people gathered round as I walked her into the room. "Is she, okay?" "Who is she?" "Oh, my. Poor girl." Everyone was interested in the mystery woman. I was wondering how the hell she ended up in this world. I wanted Alara back from the girls' outing, so I could ask her.
The old woman who'd brought my food earlier gestured for me to follow her. "There's a place back here where she can lie down."
I carried Monica into what I previously thought was the kitchen. Turned out to be a sort of employee lounge—the kitchen was through an open doorway to the right. There was a narrow cot-sized bed against the back wall. I lowered her gently onto it. The woman doubled over an already folded blanket and placed it under Monica's head. Then she took another blanket and draped it over Monica's exposed legs, pulling it up over the bottom edge of the shirt the old man had given her. The curious townsfolk stood at the edge of the room, looking in.
I took a step back and looked at Monica. She was sleeping now. I didn't know what I was supposed to do, but I had the sense that I was somehow responsible for her well-being. Ma
ybe it was the fact that she was like me, thrust into this world unexpectedly. She's probably been freaking out. Who knows what's she's been through. I knew the odds of her having the same greeting I had received were a gazillion to one. No, she probably got the savage part of this world. At least she survived, I thought.
"I'm going to get a few things to clean up her scratches," the old woman said, heading toward the kitchen. I nodded.
I recalled how Monica and Sydney had accompanied me back to my shitty little apartment. I played the fateful scene through my head as best as I remembered it. "Oh, wow," I said—no one close enough to hear me. "She got caught up in the summoning."
"What's that?" The old woman returned from the kitchen, holding a small lidless jar. It had some sort of ointment in it.
"Huh." I realized I had spoken instead of just thinking the realization. "Oh, nothing."
The woman came up beside me. "Move over a little, honey." She didn't wait for me to, instead bumping her hip into me. I stepped aside.
She dipped a couple of fingers into the ointment. It smelled like that hot-cold rub I'd used for sore muscles after my first week of working at Conan's pizza and doing the morning shift on the Swimming Pool of Debauchery. She rubbed it onto the scratches on Monica's face, then pulled the blanket down off her legs and applied some there too. I couldn't help but notice how close the bottom edge of the old man's shirt sat on the border of bathing suit-level eye-candy and what I could've seen if I hadn't passed out on the afternoon Monica and Sydney took me home.
"Why don't you go out," the old woman said. I looked at her and saw from the expression on her face she'd noticed I'd been making a quick study of the borderland. "I'll do the rest of this, then we'll let her sleep."
Despite the fact I'd become a legendary lady pleaser the last couple of days—at least in my mind…and to Alara and Nithia—I felt a little embarrassed at the old woman catching me ogling Monica. Feeling sorry for Monica—knowing what she must've gone through since she got zapped here—played into it, I'm sure.
Dennis the Conqueror: A Harem Fantasy (Sword and Sorority Book 1) Page 11