by Jane Jamison
“You won’t need it. Not with us.”
She didn’t understand. “But how?
“Because you trust us. Do you trust us?”
“Yes.” She took the leap of faith.
They spoke to her in murmurs. Half the time she wasn’t sure what they said. The tone of their voices was all she needed to hear. Their caresses running over her body, touching here, soothing there, was all she needed to know.
She closed her eyes and opened her heart.
Micah pressed his cock gently to her dark entrance. “Easy. Remember to breathe.”
“Look at me, baby.”
She opened her eyes and found Ryan’s strange silver ones staring back at her. Within those depths, she found the courage she needed. “Yes.”
Dane’s hands were magic as he stroked his cock while finding erotic places on her body. “You’re meant for us, sugar. And we’re meant for you.”
She’d heard the same thing before. With Ryan? Or had it been Micah? And yet, it no longer mattered. They were all her men.
Ryan slipped his body lower until only his head and neck were above the surface. The splashes the other two made danced around his chin. He kept his eyes on her as he put his hand between her legs.
At once, she tensed up, but this time she’d tensed for all the right reasons. He stroked her clit, rubbing as he told her how beautiful she was.
She took in what the three of them told her, letting the sound of their voices tell her body what to do. They were her rocks, her safe places. She would never be afraid again as long as they were with her.
She closed her eyes again, wanting to feel every inch of their cocks and hands. Guiding her down to him, Ryan eased his cock inside her pussy. She stretched, pushing her breasts toward him, her ass toward Micah.
Micah prepared her, his fingers slipping into her anus. Scissoring them slowly at first, he opened her, fighting against her tight, puckered rings.
“It’s us, sweet thang. Remember, it’s us.”
She remembered and believed. Fear no longer controlled her. The past would no longer dictate the future. With a sigh, she pushed against Micah, telling him she was ready.
Micah pushed his cock inside her dark hole at the same time Ryan shoved his cock inside her pussy. Her eyes flew open, not in surprise or in fear, but in a sudden awareness.
“Yes.” Her tone was breathless, her heart thundering against her chest.
Her men took her, one riding her as she rode the other. The third treated her to his own self-pleasure. Her senses were alive as they’d never been. She would’ve sworn she could hear more and see farther, even into the shadows of the bushes, casting out all the demons she’d imagined there.
Their bodies became one, their hearts linking with an invisible, yet unbreakable bond. Their three separate voices mixed together to form one perfect melody. Thrusts grew stronger. Groans sounded louder. Sweat streamed down their bodies as the steam sifted around them, becoming denser. Before long, she couldn’t see past Ryan’s face, much less to the bushes.
She drew in a long breath and would’ve sworn she smelled smoke. Glancing to the side, she would’ve sworn she saw bright flickers of fire. Yet how could that be?
The question was soon pummeled away as Micah and Ryan slammed their cocks inside her again. Her body would break apart if she didn’t find release soon. Screaming, she gave into the orgasm, her body tensing then shuddering through the layers of heat surrounding them.
One by one, their shouts echoed with her own, filling the air and sending birds out of the trees and into the air. One by one, their bodies suffered through the pain and ecstasy of their climaxes. When at last she could no longer stand the sensations rippling through her, she fell, knowing Ryan would catch her.
The men, their breathing as haggard as hers, slumped against the side of the tub. Their touches glided over her body, Heat simmered as the warm water coated her skin. She cuddled next to Dane, unwilling to turn him loose, even if the heat was stifling.
“Did someone turn the thermostat up? It got a lot hotter.” She took a sip of the room temperature wine and wished she could’ve had a glass of ice water.
Why did they act so strangely at her question? Had they turned up the heat on purpose? But why act guilty about it?
Her head felt a little fuzzy. “Maybe it was the heat or the wine or both, but I would’ve sworn I saw fire.” She giggled. “Isn’t this an electric hot tub? There aren’t any logs burning underneath it, are there? Are you guys are planning on boiling me alive and eating me for dinner?”
“We’re not the witch in Hansel and Gretel.” Ryan downed the last bit of wine in the first bottle. “Micah, man, how about getting another one?”
“Sure thing.” Micah clambered out of the tub. “Is there anything else I can get for you, my lord?”
“Yes, servant. Fetch another bottle.” She giggled, once more feeling the effects of the drink. Or was it the heat? Maybe it was being around three hot men. Then again, who cared?
“You heard our queen.” Dane waved his hand as though dismissing a slave.
“Whatever, you guys.” Micah crossed the deck and disappeared into the house.
She rested her head in the crook of Dane’s arm. “I really like your home.”
“It’s your home now, too.”
She shot Ryan a look and snorted in a very unladylike way. “Oh, sure. Just let me move in. We’ve only known each other a short while, but you’re asking me to live with you.” She pointed first at Ryan then at Dane. “You two better be careful what you say. I might just take you up on it.”
“Then do it. Come live with us.”
She couldn’t take either of them seriously. All the talk of love had been while they were having sex. She couldn’t hold them to it. Could she?
Instead, she made a funny face and finished the wine in her glass. “This is nice. I can’t remember the last time I felt so…” She paused, unsure if she had the correct word. “Happy. Yeah, I’m really happy.”
Ryan tugged her out of Dane’s hold and into his. “Then we’ve done our job.” He pushed back her wet hair then placed a sweet kiss on her forehead. “We’re going to spend the rest of our lives making you happy.”
Had they meant what they’d said? She found Ryan’s gaze and saw the truth there.
They’d meant every word.
Micah returned to the hot tub with a second bottle of wine. “Who’s ready for a refill?”
“Me.” She held up her glass. “And maybe another kind of refill.”
“What kind are you talking about, sweet thang?” Micah poured the wine until it spilled over the rim of her glass.
“This kind.” She wiggled her bottom and pointed between her legs. Astonished at her boldness, she slapped a hand over her mouth and widened her eyes. Still, she couldn’t stop giggling.
“Baby, I think you’re drunk.” Ryan started to kiss her again then pulled back to reach for his ringing phone. “Why they hell didn’t I leave this inside?”
She pretended to swim to the other side of the hot tub. “I’m trying to remember. Why did I come out here?” Sticking a finger into the air, she laughed and added, “Oh, yeah. I came to thank you.” Spreading her arms wide and sloshing wine into the water, she laid back her head and shouted, “Thank you!”
“You shouldn’t be thanking us too much.”
They all turned to face Ryan. As soon as she saw his expression, her laughter died. The call had brought bad news.
“What’s that mean?”
Dane’s question was her own. “Yeah. What do you mean?”
“Baby, I hate like hell to tell you this, but that was a friend from the station.” He paused as though searching for the right words to say next.
Why did he pause? Only people needing to break bad news paused. “Go on,” she whispered.
“Scruggs made bail. He’s out.”
Chapter Nine
Julie couldn’t stop smiling no matter how many times the women a
t the shelter kept asking her why she was so happy. Not that she’d never smiled before, but she’d never smiled that much. Picking up on her happiness, the children loved it and grinned back at her.
How could she not smile? In some mystical way, she’d stepped out of the hot tub feeling like a new woman. As though the water and the men making love to her had washed all her pain and fears away for good. No longer would she let her abusive past with Hank dictate the rest of her life. No longer would she dream about the Silhouette Man. The first night she’d spent with them was the first time she hadn’t had the nightmare. Finding three men she loved and who loved her back had kept the horrors away, acting like a dreamcatcher. Instead of sleeping alone in her bed and waking up screaming, she’d slept peacefully between her men.
At least as peacefully as she could with Dane, Ryan, and Micah arguing over which of them would have to sleep on the rollaway they’d brought into the large master bedroom. None of them was willing to take another bedroom, and she understood why. If one had, he would’ve missed out on all the other lovemaking they’d shared for the past two nights. They’d finally agreed to take turns sleeping on the foldout bed.
“You’re going to have to tell me.” Brenna held a dust rag and a can of polish in her hand. Her face beamed as she studied Julie. “You’ve been floating on air all day long. Shoot, I thought you would’ve told me by now. Although I’m pretty sure I can guess what’s making you so happy.”
“I bet you can.” Julie sorted through a mound of paperwork before finally giving up. She was in too good a mood to do anything useful. “So? What do you think?”
“About those three men?” Brenna checked around her, making sure no one, especially any child was listening. “They’re the best. I don’t have to tell you so. And I think you’re one lucky lady.”
“I am very lucky.”
“Julie?”
“Yes?”
“I’m so thankful you were there that day at the restaurant. You saved my little girl. If Randall had taken her—” Tears glistened in her eyes. “Well, you know.”
She didn’t want to think about Randall, but Brenna had to know. In fact, she should’ve told Brenna the same night Ryan had received the call. But Ryan had assured her that he had two very capable men watching the shelter and that Brenna and Molly would be carefully guarded. She trusted Ryan and had allowed her friend a short time of peace.
“Please sit down. I have something to tell you, and I’ve already waited too long.” Her smile finally faded.
Brenna moved to the chair in front of the desk. “This doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s not.” An ache hit Julie. If only she didn’t have to tell her. “Randall made bail.”
“He’s out? Already?” Brenna’s hand went to her throat. “But how? He’s only been in there a couple of days.”
“Ryan checked into it and said someone posted his bail.”
“But so soon?”
“They’re not sure where the system went wrong, but there had to have been a mix-up. He should never have had the possibility of being released until the hearing next week, much less able to post bail. The police are investigating. They’re looking for him and are planning on taking him back into custody. I’m so sorry.”
“Who would’ve posted bail for him? He doesn’t have any friends or family.”
“I don’t know. Whoever it was gave a fake name. The clerk messed up and didn’t check identification. But until they get this figured out, Ryan assures me that they have men watching over you and Molly. You’re safe. I promise.”
“Are you sure?” Brenna rubbed the back of her neck. “Can you trust Ryan?” She hurried to take it back. “No. I don’t mean that like it sounds. I know all three of those men are trustworthy. I just…”
Julie came to her side and took her hands. “Listen to me, Brenna. If anyone can keep you safe, it’s Ryan and his friends. I trust them with my life.”
“Do you trust them with more than that?”
Thrown, Julie let go of Brenna’s hands and stepped back. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Do you trust them with your happiness? Your future?”
A few days earlier, she would’ve found a different answer than the one she gave. “Yes. I do.”
Brenna drew herself straighter and wiped away a tear tracking down her face. “Then I will, too.”
“Good. We’re both going to be okay.”
“Yes. We will.” Brenna stood and pulled her into hug. “I’d better get to my work. I promised Molly and the other children that I’d let them do art. Including glitter.”
“Oh. Glitter. You’re either a saint or a glutton for punishment.”
“I’m definitely no saint. But thank you, Julie. And, please, the next time you see your men, tell them thank you again for me.”
“I will. Not that I need to. You’ve told them enough times already.”
“I can never thank them enough.” She turned and hurried toward the kitchen where the kids were already starting to gather.
Julie was so immersed in watching Brenna as the swinging kitchen door closed that at first she didn’t hear the phone in the office ringing. The phone was the “hot line” for women seeking help.
“Women’s shelter. This is Julie speaking. How may I help you?” She never gave out the name of the shelter or her last name. It was one of many safeguards used to keep the shelter’s location secret. Women needing assistance rarely came to the shelter in a direct way. Most of the time they found the place through contact with law enforcement, social services, or emergency phone centers.
“Please, you have to help me.”
She’d heard the same thing too many times before. “I will. Can you tell me your name?” Pushing the woman too hard or too fast for more information wouldn’t work.
“My name is Sandra Watkins.”
She was surprised Sandra would give her full name, but it gave her hope, too. “Are you in immediate danger?”
“Yes,” whispered the woman.
“Then listen to me. It’s going to be okay. Don’t hang up. I can call the police for you, if you can’t. Just tell me where you are.”
“No. No police. They won’t help me.”
“They will. I promise you. Are you at home?”
It wasn’t unusual for a victim to not want the police involved. Often they felt as though their spouse would make it seem like the fight was their fault. Many times, the woman was afraid of sending her partner to jail, fearing what would happen once he was released. Julie understood how they felt.
The memory of Hank’s angry face hit her, but she pushed the terrible vision away. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder where he was.
“No, the cops won’t do anything.”
Something else was going on. “Why won’t they, Sandra?”
“Because my husband is a police officer. He’s their friend, and they always believe him.”
Julie let out a long sigh, her heart sinking with the news. An abuse victim trying to get away from a spouse who was part of the very organization sworn to protect her had yet another awful hurdle to jump.
“Sandra, do you want to come to the women’s shelter? Are you willing to leave him?”
“Y—yes.”
“Do you have children?”
“No.”
At least there weren’t any kids involved. “Sandra, can you get to a neighbor’s home? Or to a family member?”
“He’ll know. Please, can you come and get me?”
She wasn’t supposed to offer her help directly, but she did anyway. The events of the past few days were still too raw. How could she not at least try to help? “Yes, I’ll come. Where are you?”
Sandra gave her address as Julie scrambled to put it into her phone’s GPS. The house wasn’t far from the shelter. “Is your husband there now?”
“He went to the store. I need to leave now before he comes back.”
“Okay. I’m coming. I’ll be in a blue car. Watch
for me then run to the car. Can you do that?”
“Yes. Please hurry.” Sandra’s voice trembled.
“Okay, I’m on my way. If he comes home before I get there, please call 9-1-1. I’ll be there before the police arrive.”
“Please, hurry.”
Julie dashed out the front door, shouting to one of the other volunteers that she had an emergency. She was already in her car and halfway down the street when it hit her that she should’ve asked another shelter worker to come along with her. But there was no time to turn back.
Five minutes later, she pulled in front of a nice, middle-class family home complete with flower boxes and a white picket fence. From the outside, no one would ever guess that the woman inside was being abused.
She waited a couple of minutes, her fingers tapping on the steering wheel. “Come on, Sandra. What are you waiting for?” Since no cars were parked in front of the home, she assumed that her husband hadn’t come back yet. But how much longer did she have?
Should I honk? Or would that draw unwanted attention from the neighbors? Who knows if they would help or not?
Instead, she decided to do the only other thing she could think to do. She pushed her cell phone into her side pocket then, after getting out of the car, she glanced around, hoping no one was watching. She rushed to the front door. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she rapped on the door and prayed she wasn’t too late.
What do I do if a man answers? What if he knows Sandra called for help?
As nervous as she was, she knew she’d never leave Sandra alone. If nothing else, she’d call the police and remain there until they arrived. And Ryan. Ryan, Micah, and Dane would know what to do. They’d make sure Sandra made it to a safe location, regardless of whatever her policeman husband tried to do.
Even though she had knocked, she was still startled when the door was opened. A pretty brunette woman peeked around the edge.
“Sandra?”
The poor woman was afraid. Fear was written on her face and glinted in her wide eyes. Her clothes were torn, obviously ripped. “Julie?”
She sighed and put on a smile. “That’s right.”
She couldn’t see past the woman and into the house. Although she had to be careful, time was quickly running out. “Is it all right? Are you ready?”
