Sandman (Ceasefire #6) - Claire Marta Page 0,20

been messed up for so long.”

“It’s not going to be easy. I’m not going to lie. You’re going to have bad days before things get better. You take one day at a time. Baby steps. I can help you with that. So can they.” She gestures at Illusions and Nightmares. “I’ll be here to help you get clean. At least until I can figure out where I’m from and get back there. You shouldn’t have to walk this path alone and I’ll be there right beside you until you find the way through.”

“Rubeen.” Nightmares storms forward. Fisting her hair, he pulls her to him, claiming her mouth in a fierce ravishing kiss. When he finally lets her up for air, her blue eyes are glazed with pleasure, skin flushed.

“So, your declining our gangbang?” I smirk.

Robin laughs shakily, pressing fingertips to her kiss swollen lips. “I don’t just jump in and out of bed with just anyone at the drop of a hat. I like to get to know someone first.”

It’s not a complete no. For some reason that sends a warm sensation spreading through my chest. “How do you know that if you can’t remember your life before here?”

“Just a feeling. An instinct.” She insists her eyes meeting mine with a mischievous twinkle. “Besides sex can become just another type of addiction.”

“Christ, what are you, the school counselor?” I joke, lightening the tension in the room.

I’m a selfish bastard. We need her more than I’m willing to admit, and that’s the only thing holding me back from convincing her to fuck us with more physical persuasion today. She might say no now, but I don’t think she’ll resist us for long. We want her. We’ve never agreed on anything before. Three of us vying for her attention, she’ll soon be flat on her back with us filling her every hole. The thought of us taking her at the same time has my cock hard and aching. Thanatos’s warning rings out in my mind, but I ignore it. I’ll do everything in my power to keep Robin here. If that means defying the universe itself and what this lost girl wants, so be it.

11

Robin

“Lunch is ready.” Illusions’ voice calls out in a singsong tone from downstairs.

“Coming,” I holler back, giving my wet hair a few last brushes with the comb. Taking a shower has given me the breathing space I need. I’m still trying to get my head around all the revelations that have come to light. Three men who are supposed to be one. How the hell does that even happen? Magic, I remind myself. I guess with that kind of power, anything is possible. For now, all thoughts of getting home are gone. They were brave enough to show me their pain. I don’t know why they did, but I can’t ignore the cry for help. They seem so…fragmented. Misplaced. They’ve given me their fragile trust, delicate and new. True healing takes time. There’s no magic wand to fix what happened to them in the past, but I’ll do all I can to set them on the right path.

Slipping on the pretty, lacy, white summer dress, I tug the straps up my arms to cover my braless breasts. An image of three sets of lustful eyes flash through my head. They’d wanted to fuck me right there on that bed, and I’d been tempted to say yes. I’d felt the static, the crackling in the air between the four of us. Denying there’s an attraction would only be a lie. Yet I can’t stop myself from feeling apprehensive about the situation.

I stare at my appearance in the mirror, above the sink, at the increasing warmth in my cheeks, and find myself blushing. It’s almost like I’m orbiting the sun around them. Gravitate too close and I might get burned.

Gathering my errant thoughts, I open the door. As soon as my bare feet cross the threshold of the bathroom, I know they’re frying bacon by the smell. My mouth waters at the scent. Taking the stairs quickly, I find the three men in the kitchen. The table has been set for four with the mismatched crockery. Knives and forks from different sets, chipped mugs and folded paper napkins. Someone has taken the trouble to wipe down the counters. The packets of cereal, potato chips, and cookies assigned to new homes.

Illusions is sitting at the table, knife and fork held in each hand, his expression reminding me of an excited child.