Part 1767 – Yielding To A Temptation

A finger touched the middle of Robin’s forehead. It trailed down through his eye.

Robin smiled.

It feels so good.

So familiar.

He opened his eyes.

Isellta lay beside him. His blue eyes were calm. His expression content.

Robin’s heart ached.


Robin raised his hand and held it above Isellta’s hand. He started to lower it.

And Ambrose dropped into bed right next to him. “Hey.”


Robin opened his eyes and glared death threats at the older vampire.

Ambrose sighed. “I don’t know what I felt, but I couldn’t find anything out of order.”

“Won’erful. I hope you realize you ruined a perfectly good dream.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I just thought you’d want to know.” Ambrose buried his face into his pillow.

Robin turned away from him. His irritation simmered down. “Thanks.”


“Thanks for checkin’ it out and comin’ back in one piece.”


Robin raised his head and looked over at the sleeping vampire.

Our time together’s runnin’ out. It’s all a matter of seconds, minutes, and hours.

Just hours.

He’ll marry Barbara and he’ll move away.

Ain’t like he’s movin’ to the moon, but it won’t be like this no more. I won’t be able to be like this no more with him.

Robin watched Ambrose sleep and quietly admired him. He scooted closer to him.

Ambrose just kept on sleeping.

Robin reached for him, hesitated, debated, and decided to go for it anyway. He slipped his hand under the hem of Ambrose’s tank top.

If he catches me doin’ this, he’ll snap my wrist and toss me at the wall.


He laid his hand in the middle of Ambrose’s lower back. His skin was so warm.

Robin closed his eyes and slowly slid his hand upwards.






No wings.

Robin opened his eyes.

He’s all sorts of hot, ain’t gonna deny it. But he ain’t the one I want.

He ain’t my Isellta.

Robin pulled his hand to safety and laid back down.

Isellta’s face appeared in his mind.

The innocence of his expression.

The blue of his eyes.

The black of his wings.

It’s just you, ‘sellta. You’re the only one who gets me all hot and bothered. You’re the only one whose touch I ache for.

It’s just you. Soft, sweet, stupid you. And you ain’t got a clue what you do to me. How I feel when I hear your voice. How the touch of your hand on my face can get me so heated up. You don’t know.

He smiled and closed his eyes.

Come Sunday and you will.

Oh, ‘sellta. I’m gonna see you again. My lovely, sweet fey.

Just hours.

Just a matter of hours and I’ll see you again.

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