Page 63 of Triple Threat

Then to where he was grasping his cock, trying to choke up on it like a shotgun, as he nutted on her thigh. Grabbed, set as wallpaper, random rotation, pattern one. Two pictures to populate the cluster of screens.

Another, her rising from the bed, naked. Repeat process.

His cock rubbing against her, going soft. Repeat process.

I sat back and watched the four pictures populate through his screens. After maybe five minutes, the screens traded wallpapers. His macros were as well made as the French chicken stuff he made.

I picked up my gin, rolled up the bundle of jizz-stained clothing, and went to my room. My work for the day was done, as much as it was going to be done.

Chapter Nineteen

Sadie…

I sucked in a breath and shuddered slightly with my luxurious stretch the next morning, weak daylight streaming through the windows. Conan Roan chuckled deeply, the sound a satisfied purr as my stretch tucked me closer into his bigger body.

“Mm, good morning,” I said with a happy, sated smile. I was deliciously sore between my legs and I was glad for it, but a touch guilty at the same time. I’d wanted Roan the night before, badly… but also, partially to erase the dirt and the grit from my encounter with Lach from my soul.

“Good morning, love,” he murmured and his big arms went around me, tucking me back into the curve of his body my nightgown gone where it had been trapped around my waist the night before.

“Where did my clothes go?” I asked with a laugh.

“Floor by the bed, it wears it quite well, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, better than I did?” I asked and turned, looking over my shoulder into smiling green eyes.

“Quite,” he said deadpan, and I laughed.

“Mm, I think I’d feel better in one of your shirts anyway,” I confessed and it was true. All the satin and silk were so flashy, too pretty, and just… just not meant for the likes of me.

“Agree to disagree, Poppet,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my bare shoulder. “Though the thought of you in one of my shirts is quite appealing.”

I smiled and giggled slightly, changing the subject.

“So, what’s the big plan for today?”

“Mm,” he groaned as though the mere thought of the rest of the day held too many unpleasant realities to think upon right now and I felt myself deflate slightly. I mean, I didn’t know… maybe it did.

“Let me go down to the Bat Cave and check my calendar, see if there is anything that needs my urgent attention, then I thought I might make you breakfast.”

“Pancakes?” I asked slightly hopeful.

“Better than that, love. I was thinking I might try my hand at crepes again. It’s been a while.”

“Close enough,” I said with a smile and sat up carefully.

He chuckled and sat up, swinging his leg and what was left of the other over the edge of the bed, bending at the waist to retrieve his prosthetic.

He stopped at his dresser on the way to the bathroom, opened a drawer and removed a crisply folded shirt. With a backward glance at me, he threw it to me and I caught it out of the air with a smile.

We used the bathroom, one at a time, and held hands as we wandered back out into the main part of the house, and I looked up at him. I couldn’t help but smile, he was different somehow. Carried himself lighter, like he had shed some awful tension or weight. I was mid-sentence, asking what he put on crepes if not maple syrup like pancakes when he seized up, just froze in the doorway of the Bat Cave, his shoulders bearing down as that awful weight returned to them. I turned and froze myself.

The devastating cruelty of it…

Photos of us, of me and Roan in his bed flitted from screen to screen slowly fading out on one monitor only to come up on another, always shifting always moving.

“Where is he?” I demanded, voice hollow with my rage.

“Sadie, I’m sorry…” Roan began to stammer.

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