Instead, I choose the blue room with the queen-sized bed and its own private bathroom. My duffle gets tossed down on the mattress. I gather up a bundle of clothes and duck into the bathroom.
I could take my time. We have an entire night of this storm and being trapped in this house. I, for one, have no desire to try and maneuver through this chaos in the dark again; I already nearly died once and that’s enough for me. But I do take a shower. I wash the damp remains of my release from betweenmy thighs and lather my favorite body wash thick across my skin. As an afterthought, I wash my hair. I know there’s a chance that nothing might happen, but I want to smell good. I want to make them remember me when they return home.
Fresh and clean, I emerge from the steam with a towel twisted tight around my body. I dress in loose house pants and a pink camisole that does magical things to my breasts under a loosely knitted cardigan.
I’m doing too much. I know it when I add a coat of mascara and sweep cherry gloss over my lips. Or maybe, I’m doing enough. As someone who hasn’t dated in a hot minute, I’m definitely setting myself for something I’m not sure I’m ready for, but open to if it happens because ... well, I haven’t felt like this outside my dreams with anyone and if this is what finally kicks my libido into action, I have to try.
Besides, my fantasy demon may get me off multiple times in my dreams, but waking up alone and being forced to use my hand is starting to give me carpal tunnel. I need a man. I need a thick, hungry cock that will destroy my insides and make me bite the mattress. The way I want to get ruined should get studied, but I’ve also been let down enough that I know I’m asking for the impossible. Men who break your vagina don’t exist outside of books. But I have to hope that between the three of them, they can come close.
Would I sleep with all three brothers? Most definitely. Will it be a problem? That is up to them, because I don’t have a problem with it. I am willing, ready and able to let them do whatever they want to me if it means I don’t have to use my hands tonight.
Satisfied that I am as ready to face the three as I’ll ever be, I pick my way back downstairs. I’m mortified by the growing dampness rubbing against my sex with every step. Premature is an understatement, but it’s a sad testament to just how badly I need a little action.
Calm down,I tell my sex starved brain. At this rate, I’ll start humping their legs if I don’t pull my shit together. I’m nearly in control of my libido by the time I round the corner and reach the kitchen doorway ... and stop.
“It’s not going to matter if we fail this,” Lukan is saying, voice a tightly wound knot of agitation. “These fucking pockets are impossible to work with.”
It’s hard not to frown at the statement. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone so frustrated with their pockets before. Hell, half the things I own don’t even have any because women don’t need them, according to whoever makes women’s clothing. But he seems genuinely pissed over the fact.
“We just need to be patient and gentle,” Kellen murmurs. “We can’t push. If we scare her...”
I realize they’re talking about me and my ears perk.
“I think she’s stronger than you’re giving her credit for,” Roan states. “If we explain—”
“She’ll think we’re insane and completely shut down,” Lukan snaps back. “She needs to remember on her own. That’s the key. Once—”
“We could just take her there,” Roan cuts in.
“She has to willingly accept,” Lukan reminds him.
“I think she will,” Kellen murmurs. “Aamon is right. We could explain. She’s smart. She’ll listen.”
I’m beginning to think they might not be talking about me. Or they are and I missed a large, crucial piece of information.
And who the hell is Aamon?
“I’m not saying she’s not smart, but remember what happened last time?”
“This is different,” Roan stresses. “Things are different. I say we just tell her.”
“Can’t tell her,” Kellen interjects in that calm manner of his. “We swore we wouldn’t.”
Silence extends for several heartbeats and I can just picture them in the kitchen, standing around the island, faces dark with concentration. It would be amusing — the level of frustration coming from the room — but I’m too curious to care.
“We stick to the plan,” Lukan decides at last with a sigh that sounds more like a growl. “Let’s just pray she listens to reason.”
“She will,” Roan insists without missing a beat. “I know she will.”
“But we should also be prepared that she might not,” Kellen says slowly.
“That won’t happen,” Roan snaps, voice sharp. “I won’t let it.”
“None of us will, but we should make a backup plan in case,” Lukan presses.
“I think we need to see this through. We have some time. If he ... we stick to the plan...” Kellen trails off.
“He will. This means everything to him. He’ll make sure nothing goes wrong on his end,” Lukan says softly. “We just need to hold up our end.”
