Cherise Sinclair - If only

Tate blinked, obviously not anticipating a straight answer. Or to be put on the spot. He studied the men, and she remembered that about him. He never decided anything quickly. Finally, he spoke to Sally. “I liked the way they stood up for you, even after you left. But if they’re pushing you into something—”

“They’re not,” Sally said firmly.

“I guess that’s all right.” He stood up slowly and hesitated. “I just want you to know, you’ve got a place to come if you get into trouble. Or just need a home. Okay?”

Hell, she was going to cry after all. As tears ran down her cheeks, she pushed at Galen’s leg. With his hands around her waist, he helped her stand.

Sally took a step forward and hugged her brother. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Thank you for forgiving me, Sal.” He kissed the top of her head and stepped back, eyes gleaming with moisture. “I’ll just check on Leigh Anne. The kids are hoping you’ll come upstairs and say good night to them when you’re ready.”

“Will do.” As Tate disappeared into the house, Sally scrubbed the tears off her face. And a slow grin blossomed. Family. She had family. “I just realized—I’m an aunt.”

Lying on the king-size bed in his partner’s hotel room, dressed in just a pair of jeans, Vance felt his muscles unwinding. As usual when he and Galen traveled, they’d booked two rooms, although he damned well expected to spend tonight in this one.

But since the small hotel had equally small showers, Vance had left Galen to help Sally and had cleaned up in his room across the hall.

From the noise coming from the bathroom now, they should have an interesting evening. Galen wouldn’t let the imp reach climax…not yet.

Although Tate and Leigh Anne had offered their guest room, Sally had refused. Thank you, Jesus. She’d wanted to be with her Doms. And they wanted to be with her.

But he and Galen hadn’t had a chance to plan out the evening…aside from enforcing their displeasure at her running away.

After that, they’d show their pleasure that they were together again. Definitely that. That was a good enough plan for a scene.

He grinned at the sound of her giggles and Galen’s deep laugh. His partner hadn’t been so happy in a long time. He’d needed someone like Sally to remind him that life held more than work.

Vance needed her too. It wasn’t until she had asked him about his wife, that he’d realized how much he’d avoided any serious involvement with women. Yeah, he’d been as much of a coward as Galen had.

And he trusted Sally. Really did. Yes, she’d deceived them about the hacking and sometimes about her feelings, but she’d never cheat on him. She didn’t have a disloyal bone in her body.

She had a sense of honor that he could respect. A rather interesting sense of honor, in fact, remembering her statement in the cabana. “And if you ask me if your hips look fat in a dress, I’ll tell you the truth.” Grinning, he looked up as the noise escalated in the bathroom.

“But I want a robe,” Sally whined as the door opened.

“No point.” Galen pushed her out into the hotel room and returned to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Her hair was clipped on top of her head; her eyes were bright. Her full breasts were waiting for Vance’s hands. Nipples puckered and erect.

“Oh now, that’s nice,” Vance murmured.

She was already pink from the hot shower—and arousal—but at his look, her color deepened and she tried to cover herself with her hands. “Uh, you’re already here.”

He grinned. “Sweetheart, you’ve sucked our dicks, had us inside you just about every way possible, had our mouths everywhere—how can you possibly feel modest?”

“I don’t know. Because I’m in Iowa?” With the prettiest laugh a woman ever had, she jumped on the bed and flopped on top of him. Moist skin, scented with lotion, soft woman.

He’d died, bounced off hell, and gone straight to paradise.

He ran his hands past her lush ass to open her legs, and yanked her up, straddling him. Her pussy rested on his cock, and he could feel the heat right through his jeans.

When he rubbed upward, her eyes drooped, half-lidded. “Are we going to play?” Her voice came out husky.

“Soon. Talk, punishment, talk, sex. I think that’s how it’ll go.”

Her frown wrinkled her brow. “Why can’t we jump straight to the sex? Isn’t it better to finish making up?”

Where was Galen? The inconsiderate bastard was still in the bathroom—probably shaving—leaving Vance to answer questions. Maybe because Vance had been the moron who’d felt Sally shouldn’t escape the consequences of her actions. Not if their relationship was to continue. And he wanted that more than he could say.

“It’s like this, Sally.” With Sally still on his lap, he worked his way up to a half-sitting position with his back against the headboard. “Galen lost his temper and yelled at you.”

“He did.”

At her pout, he grinned. He knew full well she put on that cute face just for effect. Even better, she knew that he knew, so she didn’t do it to manipulate…but rather for fun. “Galen and I yelled at each other after that.”

“More than shouting. You hit each other.” She gently touched the purple bruises over his gut, his ribs. His jaw.

“True, but that’s what”— brothers do—“we do, whether it’s mature or not. Then we get on with life.” Would he ever get tired of looking into eyes of such a rich brown? Or of running a finger over her plump lower lip…which was still sticking out slightly. “Unfortunately, it’s difficult to get on with life if one of the people is halfway across the country.”

Her gaze dropped. “You’re angry because you had to follow me here?”

“No, sweetheart, we’re unhappy because you scared us to death when you disappeared. You usually tackle problems head-on. Why not this time?” Ah, but she didn’t deal well with emotional upsets. She’d run from them before. “Red red red.” Safeworded out of a scene, quit the Shadowlands, all because they’d gotten too close and she’d felt too vulnerable. So this time—

“I saw you punch Galen,” she admitted. “My fault. You’ve been friends forever, and you were fighting each other because of what I’d done.”

A movement caught his eye. Clad in jeans, Galen leaned against the bathroom door frame. Yep, he’d shaved. He jerked his chin for Vance to continue.

All right. “You felt guilty because you’d upset us,” he fed back. “Maybe Galen hurt your feelings by yelling at you?”

She shrugged as if that part was unimportant.

Bullshit. When she forgot to hide, her face was as expressive as her body was responsive. “You told us you loved us, and before the night was over, Galen was yelling at you.”

Touchdown. Her eyes turned liquid, and she looked away. “I know why he yelled now. But it hurt.”

“I’m sorry, Sally,” Galen said, walking to stand beside the bed, pain obvious in his face.

“I know now. It’s okay.” Her irrepressible spirit resurfaced, and a dimple appeared. “Does that mean you won’t yell at me again?”

“’Fraid not. If we’re together, I’ll probably yell at you again, just as I’ll probably exchange punches with Vance.” Galen rubbed his knuckles on her cheek. “But Vance and I can survive fighting, because we will be around later to make peace. You weren’t.”

She winced.

“You disobeyed us,” Galen continued. “You risked your safety by crawling out a window and walking down a road at night. You didn’t phone to let us know you were all right.” He pulled in a breath. “You had a right to be mad, pet. Even to come to Iowa.”

“But I should have let you know.” Sally’s voice dropped. “I acted like a little girl.”

Vance sighed. She broke his heart. “You acted like a woman who grew up having to hide her feelings.” He gripped her hands and squeezed even as Galen pulled her to lean against his body.

“And I need to work past that reaction. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Very good.” Galen kissed the top of her head, his face gentle. Sally wasn’t the only person learning to let her feelings show.

Since Vance’s ribs still hurt, he kept that thought to himself. Galen certainly had no trouble expressing his feelings with his fists.

“I’ll try.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Vance said.

“So this was the talking part of the show.” Sally hauled in a breath, gave herself a shake, and her breasts shimmied in a way that made Vance’s mouth dry. Seemed really unfair that a woman got those fascinating bits, and a man didn’t. A woman could simply pull her shirt down, show some extra cleavage, and mesmerize every guy in the room. If a man opened his jeans and let his cock poke out, every woman in the place would be calling for the cops. Or worse, screaming, Ew. Gross.

Well, if he didn’t have breasts of his own, seemed only fair the woman should share hers. He put his hands on her breasts, stopped the wiggle, and circled his thumbs over the pretty pink areolae.

Galen snorted. “Talk about a lack of control.”

Grinning, Vance secured his grip and pulled on her breasts, drawing her forward until she gave up and buried her face against his neck. “I’ll just restrain her using these lovelies while she learns the consequences of not informing her lords and masters of her location.”

“What?” She tried to sit up to protect the vulnerable little ass that stuck up in the air.

Vance didn’t let her. Hell of a restraint system. It wouldn’t work with small breasts, but Sally’s were the size where a Dom could get a good grip. Oh yeah.

“Whatever works.” Galen shook his head. “Sally, this won’t be a long punishment. I’m going to give you three strikes of the switch, hard enough that for a few days, the welts will remind you of our expectations.” He ran his hand down her back.

Vance felt her quiver.

“No relationship escapes battles, so these are the rules of combat,” Galen said. “The combatants may withdraw at any time during a fight. If you need to retreat farther than the house, you let the others know where to find you. The time limit on making up is twenty-four hours, whereupon discussion must begin.”

Silence. She turned to look at him and sighed. “That’s fair.”

“Good.” Galen picked up a slender, peeled length of wood and slashed it through the air. The whipping noise showed it was green and very flexible.

Vance grinned. No wonder Galen had volunteered to drive Sally’s rental back alone. He must have stopped to cut the branch from a tree on the way back and taken the time to smooth it out.

“Sally, it’s going to hurt,” Galen warned. “And we’re in a hotel. If you yell, I’m going to gag you, and I don’t want to. We’ve come too far in getting you to talk to want to silence you now. Can you be quiet?”

“Uh-huh.” She buried her face back in Vance’s neck. And he wrapped his arms over her shoulders and held her, his amusement fading. Fuck, he hated punishing anyone, especially Sally.

The first blow made the distinctive sound of a switch hitting flesh. Her body jerked. No one in the next room would hear, but he knew it was damned painful.

HOLY SHIT. SALLY pressed her face to Vance’s corded neck, gritted her teeth, and breathed out through the icy-hot sting. She trembled with the need to cover her ass for the next—

Smack. Oh God. She felt her arms try to move, but Vance held her immobile. Restrained by one man for the other. She keened into his soap-scented flesh and—

Smack!

It felt as if Galen had laid lines of fire on her butt. She sucked in air through her teeth, waiting for the intense stinging to die down.

“All done, pet.” She felt Galen run his hand down her back, over her bottom. Fiery pain erupted again when his fingers traced over the welts. “You’ll definitely feel these for a couple of days.”

Slowly, she pushed up.

Vance curled his hand over her nape, holding her still, forcing her to look into his piercing eyes. “You scared me, Sally,” he said softly.

Oh God, she wouldn’t have hurt him for the world. “I’m sorry.” Her eyes began to burn, and she blinked back tears. “I really am.”

“You’ve been punished enough, sweetie. But don’t ever do that again.”

She buried her face back into his neck, feeling his hand stroke over her back in the sweetest of forgiveness. “I won’t,” she whispered.

“Then give me a kiss and we’ll move on.”