Roll Against Regret (3d20)

Roll Against Regret

3d20 #2

Allyson Lindt

This book is a work of fiction.

While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by Allyson Lindt

All Rights Reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Acelette Press

Zoe’s broadened her horizons in bed and everywhere else, since she hooked up with Jackson, but their latest shared fantasy beats all others when it comes to turning her on. He wants to watch her with another guy—a mutual friend from the online game they play. After all, the three are in sync when it comes to slaying dragons, and their flirting heats up the circuits.

When Zoe realizes who the new guy is, her anticipation and arousal spike. Carter's the only man she’s ever loved, other than Jackson. Despite a complicated history, Jackson and Carter hit it off in person as well as they did on line, and Zoe gets one last, incredible night with Carter, while Jackson watches.

But one night isn’t enough. She doesn’t want to lose Jackson, but they’re both hung up on Carter for their own reasons, and he’s nudging their relationship from every angle. She needs to decide if she and Jackson can keep Carter in their lives without destroying what they have. If not, she'll have to relive the only regret she's ever had—sending Carter packing—and add a new one to the list, by losing Jackson.

For my eternal dragon

I logged onto the game and loaded my character, ZaneyPixie. The assassin elf waved, before the character screen faded and the world took its place. At the same time, I connected to the live-chat channel I shared with my boyfriend, Jackson, and our in-game party mate, DarkAnge1.

“Hey, gorgeous.” DA’s deep tenor tickled my ears. “Ready to slaughter a dragon?”

“I’m in.” Jackson’s voice joined the three-way chat. He sat on the couch across from me, just a few feet away. We were in his apartment to play together, but I could only hear him over my headset. If I didn’t wear noise-canceling earphones, the echo made my head spin. “You weren’t going to pillage without me. Were you?” he said.

DA laughed. “I was thinking about it, Fiend.” TattedFiend was Jackson’s character. “You’re welcome to watch, though.”

“You and Pixie? I’d watch that in a heartbeat.” Jackson met my gaze over the screens of our laptops, heat lingering in his eyes. His blond hair was spiked, and the glow of his display added an eerily sexy cast to his pale blue eyes. Even with him hunched over his computer, it was clear he was tall and wiry.

A flush spread over my skin, and a tease of imagery danced in my mind. I had no idea what DA looked like, but his voice reminded me of an ex-boyfriend I had, so he always took on Carter’s face in my fantasies. When DA and Jackson started joking like this, those fantasies frequently involved being pressed between them, two sets of hands roaming over my body. I tucked the thoughts away, for when Jackson and I weren’t logged in. “Do I get a say in this?” I asked.

“Absolutely,” DA said. “You can say if he watches or joins in. You’re the boss.”

Tough call. Jackson had been pretty direct about the fact he wouldn’t mind watching me with another guy. Two months ago, when we hooked up, the idea had terrified me, but I had a new perspective on a lot of things these days. Both possibilities sent flutters through my belly and tingled between my thighs. I dragged myself from the lust-filled daydream. We were supposed to be forming a raiding party. “We’re still talking about slaying the dragon, right?”

“If that’s what you want to call it.” Jackson winked at me.

Men. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “As much fun as this is, the event ends tonight. We doing this or not?” The event ending was just an excuse for hurrying. As much as fun as DA was, he wasn’t here. Jackson had greeted me this evening with a mind-numbing, panty-soaking kiss. He’d slid his hands down to cup my ass, pulled me close enough his hard-on pressed into my stomach, and then moved his attentions back up to roll my nipples between his fingers. He pulled away abruptly, reminded me we had an in-game date, and he and I would have to finish once we were done conquering.

I squirmed in my seat. Focusing wouldn’t be easy, but it would be worth it.

“We’re doing this.” Was that disappointment in DA’s voice, or just a glitch in the connection?

“Adding our party to the queue,” Jackson said. Seconds later, a message flashed on the screen, warning us this mission was meant for a four-person party or larger, and asking if we were sure we wanted to proceed. His avatar cast a series of protection spells on us.

Jackson clicked ‘Yes,’ and an on-screen timer counted down from sixty. DarkAnge1 fell into a battle pose, axe at the ready, I drew my daggers, and a transparent shield radiated out from Jackson’s TattedFiend to encompass all of us.

The screen flashed to black, and the cut scene started. The red dragon swooped in from the skies, and hit the earth hard enough to shake the world. Flame spewed from its nostrils and jaw when it roared.

I tucked the last of my arousal aside and leaned forward, ready to battle. “Dark. Minions, approaching from the west.”

“On it.” The joking was gone from DA’s voice, and his avatar fell into line.

“South.” Jackson barked the single word.

“Going for the wings.” My Pixie sprinted forward, weapons at the ready.

The next ten minutes were a mishmash of the same. All of us knew our roles—DA drew enmity, Jackson kept us alive, and I dealt damage. None of us spoke more than a few words at a time, mostly to announce our intentions, to keep from stepping on each other’s toes. Spells flew, hit points dropped and were magically replenished, and the dragon’s HP bar dropped lower and lower.

The dragon let out one final roar and dropped to the ground. I exhaled, pushing out the tension of the last fifteen minutes, as the ‘You Won’ cut scene played.

“Fuck, yeah!” DA’s cheer echoed in my head, drawing a smile.

“Owned!” Jackson threw his arms in the air in celebration.

I wasn’t sure I could find better words for it. Fights like that always pumped excess adrenaline through me, and sapped me of my ability to think. We spent the next fifteen minutes or so divvying up the drops and making random small talk.

“I hate to cut this short”—Jackson caught my attention visually again—“but we’ve got plans tonight.”

“Without me?” DA’s whine was exaggerated. “Not sexy plans. Right?”

“That exact kind.”

Jackson’s confirmation heated my cheeks. Even as comfortable as I was, joking with DA, I was still getting used to how honest and direct Jackson could be. Especially when it came to our love life.

“Sorry I have to miss it. We still on for tomorrow?”

“Totally.” Jackson said.

I’d almost forgotten. When we’d discovered DA lived in Salt Lake City, same as we did, we agreed to meet in person. There had only been one rule. No photos and no real names exchanged, until we saw each other in person. We didn’t want anything but our existing friendship waiting for us in the coffee shop.

We finished saying our good nights, I stripped off my headset, shut my laptop, and set it in its resting place, on Jackson’s coffee table.

Seconds later, Jackson stood in front of me. He grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet with a swift tug. The air pushed from my chest when I pressed against him. Our relationship was new enough I still felt a rush every time he touched me.

He pushed up the hem of my T-shirt, and his fingers danced along my spine. “You make it so hard to keep my hands to myself.” He traced his lips along my collarbone, and followed the line of the vine tattoo snaking around my neck. The ink was new. Something I’d always wanted to try, but never dared until Jackson. He’d helped me get past a lot of the reservations that had held me back in the past.

“I thought that fight would never end,” he said.

I trailed a nail down his chest, past his navel, and tugged at the waistband of his jeans. “We didn’t have to play.”

His erection dug into my hip when he held me closer. “We did. Dark is important.”

“He’d also understand.”

“We still have the rest of tonight.” Jackson nipped at my lips, and then deepened the kiss. He moved one hand to the back of my head, and tangled his fingers in my hair.

A vise squeezed around my chest at the intensity in his kiss. Elders, I loved that feeling. He pushed his tongue into my mouth, and it danced with mine. His free hand glided up my chest, brushed the bottom of my breast, and then flicked over a nipple. I groaned into his mouth.

He broke away and met my gaze again. “I’m so lucky to have you, Zoe.”

“Me too. I mean… You know what I mean.” The sudden compliment raised my arousal another notch. I trailed my fingers down to his crotch, and traced the outline of his cock through denim.

He jerked against my touch. His laugh was shaky when he grabbed my wrist and raised my hand to his lips. He kissed each knuckle. “I’m serious. I don’t ever want you to think otherwise.”

“I know.” The intensity in his words made my heart stutter. Why did something so sweet set me on edge? “Are you okay?”

He slid a hand into my back pocket. “I’m good. Perfect, even. I’ve just been thinking.”

It felt like he was dragging the conversation out. Hesitating to say something. That probably made me more nervous than his words did. Jackson didn’t hold back. “About what?” I asked.

“You know how I think it would be hot to watch you with another guy?”

The reminder tingled over every inch of me. I nodded.

“I’m not trying to jump to conclusions or anything.” He kissed up my jaw and caught my earlobe in his teeth. His voice was low, vibrating against my skin. “And I know there’s a really good chance it won’t work out this way, so really, this is just me fantasizing. But”—He breathed deeply—“what if that guy were Dark?”

I bit the inside of my cheek as the words sank in. My brain struggled to process the idea, while my body reacted on its own. My nipples tightened, and an ache grew between my thighs. I wasn’t sure if I was turned on at the prospect, or terrified we were one step closer to it becoming a reality.

“Pixie?” Jackson lifted my chin and forced me to look him in the eye. “Are you still with me?”

I swallowed and nodded. “I’m here. I just… Dark? Really? What if he’s…” I had no idea where the question was going. The longer the thought lingered in my head, the more I latched onto it.

“It’s just a fantasy right now, Pixie.” He’d given me the nickname, and I loved the way it rolled off his tongue. It was why I used it in-game.

Jackson stripped my shirt over my head. His gaze raked over me and left need lingering on my skin. He drew his tongue down the curve of my neck. He unsnapped my bra, and tossed that aside too. “It may not ever be more. It never has to be, if you’re not comfortable with it.” He lowered his head to one breast and drew a swollen nub into his mouth. He alternated a light biting with flicking his tongue back and forth. The feelings tugged an invisible string that traveled through all of me. If I’d been wet before, I was soaked now.

“It’s not that.” I hooked my fingers behind his head, holding him in place. I whimpered when he dragged a thumb over my other nipple. “I’m not saying no. It’s more that I’m saying I don’t know.”

His palm glided down my stomach and over my jeans. I gasped when he brushed my already tender mound through denim. “Stay with me for a minute or two, then.” His voice was smooth, almost hypnotic. He pressed harder against the seam of my pants, grinding the fabric into my swollen clit. My hips bucked in response.

“Say we click with this guy in person.” He continued to rub, pushing me near climax but not over the edge. “He’s just as much fun as online, and we hit it off.” Jackson stopped his attentions, and anticipation joined everything else churning inside me.

“Then what?” I hated that I was hung up on the logistics, but I couldn’t help myself, even knowing it might spoil a good fantasy. “You say, ‘Hey, wanna fuck my girl while I’m in the room?’”

He made quick work of the button on my pants, and then the zipper. “More or less. And he says yes. We come back here, and I watch him strip you down, a piece of clothing at a time.” He dragged the rest of my clothing down my legs, letting friction build. He dropped to his knees, and kissed along my thigh.

I wasn’t prepared for my own response to the suggestion. The images he painted were as enticing as his touch on my skin. A new wave of lust spiked through me at the idea of Jackson watching me. Being aroused by me with someone else. Someone we trusted. “And you just sit in the corner?” I asked.

“And stroke my dick.” He drew closer to my aching sex, but never touched it, before kissing back down the other leg. “Watching him kiss you for the first time would make me hard.” He reached up and cupped my ass. “Seeing you yield to his touch would make me stroke faster.” His mouth brushed my lower lips, and I groaned.

“Watching him penetrate you, knowing how wet you get… That would almost be enough to make me come.” His warm breath on my damp skin sent chills through me. “And when you screamed in pleasure. Fuck, Pixie. I’d blow my wad.”

He finally dipped his tongue between my folds and licked up to my aching button. I let out a whimper, and tangled my fingers in his hair. He trailed back down, and plunged inside me. I thrust against his face, too lost in the images and sensations to say anything. When he found my clit with his thumb, orgasm tore through me, and I cried out.

He eased off, then pressed forward again, drawing me back from the edge and pushing me over it a second time. My knees wobbled, and I pulled away when his touch became too much.

He guided me back toward the couch, and helped me sit. I pulled his face to mine and kissed him deeply, enjoying the taste of myself on his lips. I helped him shove his jeans to the floor, and his cock sprung to attention the moment it was free.

“I think you’d like it.” He dragged the swollen head of his dick over my slit. Going without condoms had been one of the first, and easiest, concessions we made in our relationship.

I scooted my butt forward on the couch until I was more hanging off than sitting. “I might.” That was an understatement. It was the hottest fantasy I’d ever had.

He thrust his hips forward, and drove inside me. I threw my head back at the feeling of being spread open. He half knelt, half leaned his weight on his wrists, as he drove inside me. “Fuck, I love that idea.”

“More than watching me pleasure myself?” I grabbed my breasts and kneaded, pinching my nipples as he pounded me.

“Say it right.” His command was punctuated with short bursts of breathing.

I only hesitated for a second, knowing exactly what he wanted to hear. “More than watching me fuck myself with my own fingers? Play with my pussy, while you’re hands off?”

He kissed me hard. “And people think you’re so sweet and innocent. God, you’ve got a filthy, sexy mouth.” He shifted his angle, and this time his thrust hit a sweet spot inside me. “And it’s two very different kinds of hot. Don’t make me choose.”

I screamed when I came again, and clenched around his cock, milking him. His speed increased, and I recognized the frantic pants of his nearing climax. He thrust a few more times and spilled inside me, hot and hard. He pulled out, and collapsed onto the carpet.

I slid from the couch. “I definitely won’t make you choose.”

He wrapped me in his arms, and trailed his lips over my shoulder. “Good. I meant what I said. I don’t ever want to scare you away. Nothing you’re not comfortable with.” He flicked a thumb over my nipple, and I groaned, not sure if it was too much or just enough of a tease.

The words bounced in my skull and tried to tug an old memory loose. One I’d buried more than five years ago. I wouldn’t let him uncover that, though. I wouldn’t dwell on the last time a man had said something similar to me, and the regret I had over it. That was then. I’d learned my lesson since, and this was the new, carefree me. The Zoe who wasn’t afraid to admit she had kinks. The woman who didn’t dwell on the past.

I snuggled closer, and wrapped myself in the now. ‘Then’ didn’t matter.