Page 113 of Bewitching Her Monsters
“He used to be in more ways than one.” Maxum swats me on the ass, pushing me toward the table. As I sit down, he pulls me onto his lap. His flesh sword presses against my ass crack. “Fuck,” he hisses. “I think this is a bad idea. I’m going to have you riding me right here in a few seconds.”
“Let Jade have her own seat.Please, and thank you,” Calder growls as he sets up his Dungeon Master supplies.
“What’s your character?” I ask Flint.
“Elmell Smoketail, a halfling ranger with a love of music.” He points to his legit lute strapped to him.
I think I might die of cuteness. “I love it.”
“And you two?” I ask.
Maxum grins playfully. “Neluthel, an Elven rogue, who loves to steal the hearts of his lovers. After he’s done with them, of course.”
I’ll unpack that later…
“I’m a Dragonborn Beastmaster named Gorkilwyrm the Awesome,” Arran says shyly.
We play for a few hours, and the guys act out the skirmishes. I see how this helps them let off some steam. However, I find it odd since this is practically their lives. But to each their own.
They gouge some new marks into the table with their swords. And yes, an actual mace gets lodged in the wall at some point.
Calder stretches and pats his belly. “Pizzas?”
We all heartily agree.
The brat asks me, “What does the bard want on her pizza?”
“I don’t think I should eat a whole pizza by myself.”
“Not up to the challenge?” He shakes his head. “How disappointing.”
“I didn’t say I couldn’t,” I laugh. “Challenge accepted. Thin crust though!”
He orders us pizzas from their rotary landline. When they show up at our door, Maxum pays with cash and hands them out to us.
“Is it rude to ask about what supernatural species a person is?” I ask and shove a pizza slice in my pie hole.
“Why do you ask?” Calder watches me.
“I was just curious if you were a dragon.”
“Why would you think I was a dragon?” He looks more confused than irritated with me, which is a step up in our dynamic.
“I felt like you were fiery when I first saw you. I imagine dragons can be… standoffish.”
“Don’t blow dragon-smoke up my ass.” He rolls his eyes. “Most dragons are complete dicks.”
“There really are dragons?” I bounce with excitement.
“Don’t be too happy. I just told you they were jerks.” He huffs.
“I can handle jerks—obviously.” I give him a pointed look. “So, was I way off base with my guess?”
“Phoenix.” His tone is flat.
“Holy crap! A Phoenix! That’s so awesome!”
Maxum grumbles. “I’m feeling a touch jealous. Just me?” He looks to Arran.
