A massive round table filled the center of the room; the polished wood surface looked big enough to hold a person, which was a very…interesting thought. When Galen stopped at the table and tapped the surface, her cheeks flushed.

One of his eyebrows quirked up. He didn’t comment on her undoubtedly red face—thank you, God—but simply said, “You can set up your laptop here. The center compartment holds electrical plugs.”

Plugs. She’d heard the guys liked everything anal. Oh God, her mind was totally in the gutter, because the thought of his lean, ruthless fingers pushing a plug into her ass totally fizzed her hormones. She could feel her color heightening, so she shrugged and turned away. “Nice techie setup. And quite amazing. Considering your age, I figured you’d think a hard drive was a long trip on the road.”

His fingers gripped her chin and turned her to face him. He gave her a level look. “Yes, I probably have a decade on you. I definitely have enough years to know a little subbie is tossing out insults because she’s nervous.”

Oh shit. She could actually feel her color moving past red into fluorescent levels.

And she couldn’t think of any response to his dead-on conclusion. None. She retreated to get out of reach and tried on an I’m-just-adorable nose wrinkle. “You guys actually remodeled the office before the dining room?”

“Hell yes.” His rare grin made her insides quiver like jelly. “Of course, Vance insisted the great room come first so we could hook up the television. Can’t miss seeing the Buckeyes play.”

She laughed, half with relief and half with amusement. Once they’d returned from her apartment, Vance had checked the time and disappeared into the great room to watch his basketball game. “Good to know. I’ll remember to speak of them with respect.”

“Excellent plan. Insulting Ohio State would earn you a bare-ass spanking.” He tilted his head, watching her. “Of course, he’d probably hand you off to me for the punishment. He has a soft heart.”

His dark look sent a current running between them, heating her insides at the same time. She swallowed. “And you don’t? Have a soft heart?”

“No, pet.” He moved closer and ran his thumb over her lips. In the sunlight streaming through the windows, his eyes weren’t completely black, but a dark, dark brown around the outer iris, and lightening near the pupil. Mesmerizing… His lips curved. “I look forward to turning your pretty ass red. To seeing tears in your eyes. And making you come so hard our neighbors will hear you scream our names.”

Their neighbors weren’t that close.

It was very hot in the room; the air-conditioning needed to be turned up. “Ah, right.” She took a careful step back and set her laptop on the table.

Time to get to work. She had a zillion texts and voice mails to answer. Apparently the Shadowkittens had heard about Frank’s attack.

And there were even more e-mails. Unfortunately, she also needed to catch up on the Harvest Association e-mails. Wading through their filth made her sick each and every time, but she wasn’t going to quit. Not as long as she could help. Heroes didn’t quit.

Amusement gleamed in his eyes. “Want some help setting up?”

She tensed. Her e-mail program came up first. Galen might recognize some of the bad guys’ names. “Nah, I can handle it.”

His eyes had narrowed. Frigging Feds, keen to notice the tiniest hint of guilt.

“Can I have your wireless security code?” she asked hastily.

After an intimidating pause, he walked over to desk on the left wall and scrawled the password on a sticky note.

“Thank you.” Leave. Leave now. Go on. And the first thing she’d do would be to check those e-mails and bury the program.

“We’ll be in the great room.” As he walked away, actually obeying her mental commands, she started to relax…until he turned in the doorway and gave her a long look. “If we decide to fuck you on the table, you’ll have to move your stuff—so don’t leave it too messy, eh?”

Oh. My. God. He really had known what she was thinking.

She couldn’t help looking at the table…imagining. Spread out like a feast, open to their hands, their mouths. After a long, shuddering breath, she turned to glare at the empty doorway. Now she had to sit at that table with an overheated imagination and a damp thong.

* * *

An hour later, Sally appeared. Galen frowned. The girl looked as white as she had last night; it made the bruising on her face stand out even more. “Problems?”

Her attempt at a smile failed badly. “Nah. I’m just tired.”

“Bullshit,” Vance said from where he was sprawled on the sectional. He picked up the remote and turned the TV off.

On the other end of the couch, in his recliner, Galen noted the game had only been in the third quarter. The little sub had better watch out.

After a nervous glance at the blank television screen, she amended, “Some…acquaintances…are upset because they lost some…money. And I hate reading profanity. But it’s not anything you can fix—or that I can share.” Her chin lifted, and she gave them a spirited glare. “Okay, Sirs?”

Galen’s lips twitched, and he worked to suppress his smile. He sat his recliner up, tossed a heavy couch cushion on the floor at his feet, and pointed to it.

Her hands formed little fists—and he had an appealing vision of how her hands would feel on his shoulders…or dick—then she obeyed.

He watched closely as she went to her knees. Moving better. No tightness around her mouth indicating pain. She was clever and used a hand on the coffee table to balance as she kept her weight off her braced ankle. And the cushion was high enough that her ankle didn’t have to bend. Good.

Galen tipped his chin at Vance. They needed to set some ground rules, and Vance would start out more gently.

Vance accepted the handoff. “We haven’t spoken about your place in the household, have we?”

She blinked, as if he’d sidestepped her anticipated argument. “Um. Right. I’d like a bit of clarity on what’s expected. Maybe even some negotiation.” A trace of sarcasm had crept into her tone.

Appreciation flashed in his partner’s eyes. The last submissive they’d brought home had been sweet but not too bright, and she’d missed a lot of subtext. He and Vance preferred the smart ones, even if they were more trouble.

From comments at the Shadowlands and her documented history and his own observations, he was beginning to realize the imp was very, very intelligent.

“We can do discussion,” Vance said agreeably. “Normally, we don’t get into full-time D/s relationships. We have no interest in picking a sub’s clothing—except for scenes. For example, I’m rather partial to French maid costumes, especially ones with short skirts. And no underwear.”

Sally’s color heightened.

Be interesting to arouse her verbally and keep her on edge all evening. But not now. Galen sighed. “Focus, Buchanan.”

Vance tossed him a grin before returning his attention to his instruction. “So. We don’t need a maid or cook. If you pull your own weight in the house, that’s enough.” Vance pushed the coffee table farther away, angled himself to face Sally, and rested his forearms on his thighs. “However, you requested our assistance for a task that can’t be limited to an occasional scene. Am I right?”

Her huff of breath was audible. “Yes, Sir.”

“This is how it will work. If we ask you a question in casual conversation, we expect an honest, forthright response. If you can’t provide one, we’ll drop into a D/s dynamic until we get the answer.”

She actually paled.

“However, that D/s dynamic isn’t limited to the times we catch you being evasive, pet,” Galen qualified. “That’s up to us.”

“You’re such a fucking lawyer,” Vance muttered, then returned to her. “What he said. Any problems with the plan so far?”

She shook her head.

“Answer aloud, please,” Galen said softly. His partner didn’t particularly care, but Galen enjoyed hearing changes in a submissive’s tone and word choices.

Such as now, as Sally murmured, “No problems, Sir.” The sarcasm had disappeared; her sharp edges had disappeared. From her expression and posture, he could see her sliding into a submissive mind-set, but by God, he really enjoyed hearing it as well.

“Good. Next, we do like sexually oriented play,” Vance said.

As she stiffened slightly, Galen added, “Sally, if you’re uncomfortable with that, you can still live here. We’ll work with you without sex involved…but we need to know.”

Vance nodded. “You seemed to enjoy sexual scenes at the club. But things change. We won’t be upset with either choice, but you have to be the one to choose, sweetheart. Sex or no sex.”

Her gaze dropped to her hands, and Galen’s respect for her grew when she looked at them directly and said, “Sex.” She didn’t pretend to be pushed into the answer, didn’t deny the sexual tension among the three of them.

“Well, I can’t say that I’m not pleased,” Vance said lightly. “Are you on the pill?”

“Yes.”

A shame to have to deal with ugly topics, but better that it was done.

“While you’re here, you’ll be our only partner, and we expect the same from you. And we prefer no barriers during sex,” Vance said. “Galen and I have no diseases, and as members of the Shadowlands, we’re all tested often, but let’s swing by the doc tomorrow and get us all checked again.”

She nodded. “Frank had…loose ideas about monogamy, so we never had unprotected sex.” Her lifted chin showed that insisting upon that had, perhaps, been an adversarial position. Good for her. “I’m clean, but I think the extra testing is wise. Thank you.”

“Next, your limits list was filled out for a club venue. But we won’t be playing in a public venue most of the time. Would you like to restrict—or add—anything to that list?”

She thought for a second and shook her head. Then with a glance at Galen, she spoke her answer. “No, Sir.”

There it was. Her resistance was disappearing. Sir could be said in many ways, but when it slipped out easily, without thought, the title was one of the most beautiful words in the English language. Coming from this little imp made it all the more special.

“Thank you, Sally,” he said, showing he recognized her surrender. And prized it.

She tried to shrug it off, but the sweet pinkness of her cheeks said she valued his approval.

And they all knew she’d fight them now and then—especially since they would push her into uncomfortable mental places to break down her barriers. Speaking of which… “We don’t know why you have a problem, and we’re going to work on helping you overcome it, but you might try counseling instead or in association with this. If finances are a problem, we can help.”

She gave him a surprised look. “Um.” Her expression changed as she considered his suggestion. Her thinking mode was interesting to watch—as if she heard music that played only for her.

After a minute, she shook her head. “I’d like to work with just you guys for now, but I’ll tell you if I think it’s too stressful or if I change my mind.”

“Good enough,” Vance said. “For sleeping arrangements, the guest room—your room—has the biggest bed. Simply close the door if you don’t want company at night.”

Vance’s nod at Galen handed back the reins.

“Take your shirt off, pet,” Galen said.

Her eyes rounded. But she obeyed. After pulling her pink T-shirt over her head, she hesitated with her hands on her lacy bra.

Galen nodded.

The bra followed. She really did have pretty breasts. Ample and high with pink-brown nipples. Her stomach was rounded and just the right softness for enjoyable nipping.

She laid her clothes neatly on the coffee table. “Sirs,” she said quietly. “Do you prefer any type of address?”

“As long as you’re polite, we’re not fussy,” Vance said.

“Stand up and remove the rest, please,” Galen said softly. He leaned forward and offered his hands to help steady her.

Her hands were cool, her grip strong as she let him help her to her feet. He tossed the cushion back on the couch.

As she started to unbuckle her silver belt, a flush started at her breasts and flowed upward.

“Stop.” Vance smiled as she paused. “You’re blushing, sweetheart. Why?”

Her mouth fell open as if to say you’re questioning me…now? “Um. This is embarrassing. That’s why.”

“Really?” With his elbow on the recliner arm, Galen rested his chin on his palm. “I’ve seen you strip in the Shadowlands without blushing.”