Chapter 20

Zoey’s dreams were odd. Turned out, having her memories wiped by a demanding goddess resulted in dreams that didn’t have much to latch to, and thus, were incoherent. Strange. Twisting and ephemeral. She wouldn’t say they’d been outright upsetting, but they’d been bizarre. More mind-bending than most.

Rosalie’s enthusiastic extracting from Zoey’s lower half had made things up. Zoey’s morning had started off pretty great, all things considered.

Rosalie had, of course, immediately upon their mutual satisfaction, risen from the bed and professed how they ‘needed to get things moving’. Which was true enough. Zoey was supposed to be saving the world, whatever that meant. Why her party-member was more devoted to that goal than she herself was, Zoey didn’t know. Considering Rosalie’s urgent coaxing of Zoey’s lower half, maybe Ephy had made the wrong choice. Here was a girl dedicated to power and sex in equal measure, for all her reticent and denying nature.

Why had Ephy chosen Zoey, anyway?

Zoey had a thousand and one impossible-to-answer questions bouncing around in her head, so it was hardly difficult to add that one to the list of ‘ignored’. If there was any skill Zoey was cultivating since her arrival to this world, it was blissful ignorance.

She didn’t ask, this time, to join Rosalie in the shower. And Rosalie didn’t protest when she slipped in, then wrapped her hands around her waist, her lower half pressing into Rosalie’s ass. Zoey was learning a few things about her serious-faced partner. Primarily, that she ought to stop asking, and start paying attention to how she reacted, instead. Which was a problematic mindset, Zoey knew. If a direct no ever came out of Rosalie’s mouth, she would stop in an instant. But initiation—well, Zoey needed to be assertive when it came to that. Even if Rosalie alluded to not wanting Zoey’s attention.

Shit. That sounds bad. She’d have to walk that tight-rope carefully. But for Rosalie? She would. Happily.

Zoey enjoyed the hot spray of water, hunched over and resting her head on Rosalie’s shoulder as Rosalie lathered soap across herself, pretending to ignore Zoey. Or maybe actually ignoring her. Again, hard to tell with this girl.

“You’re so useless,” Rosalie huffed. “Not even going to help?”

Zoey laughed, water droplets slipping down her face and from her lips, before aiding Rosalie in lathering the soap across her body. She made sure to play with Rosalie’s tits—rubbing pointer-fingers across cute, hard nipples until she was breathing hard—while getting her well and thoroughly clean.

Rosalie returned the effort, though stopped thrusting her hand into Zoey’s cock when it had reached full mast. Tease, Zoey wanted to say, despite the fact she’d done the same thing just a second earlier, rubbing fingers into Rosalie’s tits and between her legs.

They stepped from the shower, skin flushed in excitement, but knowing they needed to move on with their day.

Can’t spend forever fucking each other, Zoey thought.

Which was a tragedy, but she’d have to learn to live with it.

Zoey watched Rosalie go about her morning routine. She dried her hair with some magical item that vaguely resembled a hairdryer—only vaguely, by function, a rock with some sigil carved into it that blew hot air—then how she wrangled her long, platinum hair into a ponytail. The domesticity of it all ached Zoey’s heart.

“It looks great on you,” Zoey said, which received a huff as Rosalie continued to go about her routine.

“Are you going to get dressed, or just watch me?

“The second.”

Zoey savored the coloring in Rosalie’s cheeks. Zoey’s heart skipped a beat, and her earlier words—you’d be easy to fall for—hammered into her ears. Not easy. Effortless. Impossible to not.

It had already happened.

Shit.

Was it unreciprocated? Zoey couldn’t be certain. Rosalie allowed Zoey to nuzzle her head into the crook of her neck, but she rolled her eyes when she did. When Zoey lathered her in compliments, she mostly seemed annoyed. And Zoey wanted to be confident that it was part of Rosalie’s act, but such consistent rejections were hard to shrug off.

And sex was sex. It wasn’t romance. Did Rosalie only like her for the pleasure she could provide?

Whatever. Zoey would have Rosalie in whatever manner she was willing to return.

They left the inn a few hours after sunrise. The innkeeper was less friendly with them than before. Maybe they’d made more noise than Zoey had thought.

They’d certainly left more mess than could be called considerate. Multiple pulsing orgasms weren’t the cleanest of things, and it’d been impromptu enough Zoey had forgotten to lay towels out. She was still getting used to this whole, wielding-guy’s-equipment thing.

She considered apologizing in advance, but sheesh, how awkward. The rock-man only disliked the noise they’d made. The mess would be discovered later.

Sorry, dude. Part of the job?

They left a tip in the form of an apology. He was slightly less annoyed after that. It must’ve been generous.

Their destination was routine: the squat, plain building the innkeeper provided. The guide’s house. The person who would lead them to civilization greater than six tiny buildings.

The bartering was quick and harsh. The man seemed to enjoy Rosalie’s no-nonsense, flat tone as she scolded him for his fleecing suggestions. Zoey enjoyed Rosalie’s harsh tone for a different reason. This composed, powerful woman was writhing around my tongue, half an hour earlier.

She mostly spectated the interaction. They set off shortly, headed west.

Or ‘west’. Who knew if the sun rose in the east, in this pocket-realm? To borrow a phrase, she wasn’t in Kansas anymore.

The trip to the nearest city was uneventful. Monotonous. Having company, Rosalie wasn’t a hundredth as willing to reciprocate in Zoey’s flirting, and Zoey wasn’t comfortable in asking odd questions: how the world worked, and et cetera. So it was painfully boring. It lasted around five hours. The man made mind-numbing small talk. It revealed a few interesting facts about life in the Fractures, but mostly Zoey focused on how her feet hurt. The stamina potions helped, even if she was embarrassed she was the only one to pull them out.