Shayla Black - Theirs to Cherish

“Please . . .” The word slipped out as she stared into his eyes.

What the hell was she doing, showing her vulnerable side to a man well-known for his ruthless domination?

“Please what, pet?”

Her entire body shook. Thorpe made her nervous; he always had. Such a big, forceful presence. It was hard not to want to please him. The not knowing whether she mattered to him as something more than a responsibility troubled her. One minute he’d wanted her, the next he hadn’t. He had once again when Sean had come on the scene. What did Thorpe really feel for her?

Exhaustion and hunger tore at her. The pain making her heel throb was nothing compared with the ache in her pussy. It was impossible not to acknowledge how important Thorpe had been to her. For a girl who usually uprooted every few months, four years to feel unrequited love was a damn long time.

A tear streaked down her cheek, and she wiped it away. “I don’t know. I’m so confused.”

He let loose a heavy sigh. Then he wrapped an arm around her and tugged her against his tall, hard frame. “On my lap, pet.”

Callie was dying to know what he was thinking, feeling, wanting. But he wasn’t going to tell her. “Yes, Sir.”

As she scrambled into his lap, he cupped a gentle hand around the back of her head and guided her onto his shoulder, wrapping his suit coat around her once more. “Are you cold?”

“A little.”

“I’m turning up the heater, lovely. All you had to do was say something.”

That gentle note was back in Sean’s voice, tugging at her. Emotions she didn’t know how to comprehend piled up, right on top of all her confusion. Mentally, she couldn’t hold it all up or in anymore.

“Thank you.” She sniffled.

“Give me your feet.” Thorpe held out one hand where she could snuggle them into his palm.

She shook her head. “I don’t want to get blood on you.”

“Blood?” he questioned sharply.

“M-my foot. I stepped on a rock. It’s nothing.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“I’ll add first aid supplies to my mental grocery list,” Sean said.

“Do you have any idea where we’re going?” Thorpe inquired, curling his arms around her more tightly.

His embrace was like heaven. It might be stupid, but the only thing that would make her happier would be to have Sean cuddled up to her, too.

“I have a few thoughts. Callie, do you like to swim?”

“No.” Her sister had nearly drowned as a toddler in a little koi pond in the backyard of a neighbor’s house. She’d tried like hell to rescue Charlotte—and almost drowned herself. She’d been terrified of the water since.

“She can’t swim,” Thorpe supplied. “I managed to drag her to the lake once with some of the regulars from Dominion. She spent the entire time as far away from the railing of the boat as possible.”

“Perfect,” Sean said with a smile in his voice.

The words filled her with disquiet. Not because she thought either of them would willingly hurt her, but if they isolated her someplace where she couldn’t escape and put their heads together to collaborate on what came next . . . Callie had a feeling she—and her heart—might be in real trouble.

FOUR hours later, Sean stared down at Callie’s sleeping figure almost swallowed whole by the surprisingly big bed. She was worn out, and when he bent to remove the terrible blond wig, she didn’t move a muscle. That alone told him how fatigued she was, as did the gray smudges under her eyes. He tossed the synthetic hair in the corner and carefully removed all the pins until her dark tresses spread across the white sheets. She looked so beautiful, it broke his fucking heart.

Thorpe stood beside him. “Is she still asleep?”

He nodded. “She’s exhausted.”

“Well, she’s not the only one.” Thorpe twisted his powerful torso, stretching and stifling a yawn. “We got her back, and that was a feat in itself, but we’ve still got a shitload to do.”

“Yep. Now that we’ve got distance between us and Vegas, we can sort through the facts and decide what comes next.”

With a nod, Thorpe headed out of the bedroom in grim silence, then out onto the dock, into the night. Sean followed. From the deck of their rented houseboat, moonlight glowed over the dark waters of Lake Mead. Now, just before the dawn, everything was shimmering and quiet, a hush of night before the riot of life that came with day prevailed. It was a welcome change from the last frantic few hours.

“I don’t think we were followed,” Thorpe observed.

“As deserted as the road from the highway to this private dock is, we would have seen anyone on our tail. Let’s just hope no one realizes that we’ve left Dallas yet or figures out how to track us down.”

After snatching Callie from behind Glitter Girls, he’d developed a plan to hole up and began to set it in motion. After her punishment, she’d given into weariness and all but passed out on Thorpe’s lap. She hadn’t awakened when they’d stopped at a twenty-four-hour superstore on the southeast side of Vegas. Once there, Sean had grabbed a ball cap and windbreaker from his bag and emerged thirty minutes later with a cartful of everything they would need for a week of isolation. If they needed more provisions, he’d deal with that later.

After leaving the vehicle’s keys in a magnetic box in the wheel well, they’d hopped in a taxi. Using the burner phones they’d picked up in Dallas, both he and Thorpe had made a few calls as they traveled southeast. The big Dom dialed Axel to check in. After finding out all was well at Dominion, he rang Logan for updates and gave him the number for a new prepaid cell. The former SEAL jotted down Thorpe’s new digits, swore to call only if it was an emergency, and said he was still looking into the guy searching for Callie at the airport.

Meanwhile, Sean reached out to Elijah to explain where they’d left his Jeep and to advise him to call Logan if he learned anything more about the military goon he’d seen flashing Callie’s picture at baggage claim.

Those tasks completed, he’d used his new phone to put through his final call, this one to a business he’d seen advertised in a brochure at their hotel. He’d awakened the old man in the middle of the night with a bullshit name and promised a wad of cash in exchange for a houseboat for seven days.

Shortly after that, they’d arrived at the marina with Callie and their bags. They set about casting off from the docks in grim silence. The minute the sun rose, Sean vowed to steer this fifty-foot luxury vessel to a secluded spot so they could get down to work. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but without known phone numbers, Wi-Fi, or other means to trace them, he hoped they could hide until he and Thorpe could figure out how to make Callie safe for good. Sean had no clue how long that would take or what they’d have to do. He was risking everything by disconnecting from his superiors. Not only could he be fired and Thorpe lose his business, but it was possible they’d be hauled off to jail for obstruction and hampering an investigation. Still, Sean didn’t see any alternative if Callie was going to have a future and he wanted to be a part of it.

But this road trip/search-and-rescue mission had shown him that tomorrow wasn’t simple. Sean knew he would never have gotten this far without Thorpe’s assistance, and he was surprisingly glad to have the man helping him keep her both safe and in line.

Over and over in his head, he kept replaying the way the Dom had punished Callie in the Jeep. She had lay sprawled across Thorpe’s lap, her backside all but bare to him, her cries resounding in the dark. Not even a blind man would have missed Thorpe’s peace at having her under his control, being the master of her beautiful vulnerability.

Callie hadn’t been immune, either. He’d asked if she was wet to establish that fact. The other man hadn’t had the chance to check, but Sean would have bet his job and his life that she’d been turned on by that manhandling. Thorpe had probably known it, too.

Yes, Sean suspected that Callie would have responded to his own discipline and submitted to him as well, but that quickly and with that much abandon? Sure, she’d complained about Thorpe’s punishment—that was Callie—but far more than sexual desire glued them together. They yearned for one another. Somewhere in her stubborn heart, Sean knew that she loved him, too. After all, she’d blossomed beneath his tender care just days ago, giving her body to him and a tantalizing chunk of her soul.

He and Thorpe had already acknowledged they both loved her. And if she loved both of them . . . where the hell did they go from here?

Together, he and Thorpe eased into the galley to put away the groceries, ensuring all the food-related bags had been emptied.

“I think that’s everything.” Sean glanced around the room. Together, they grabbed most of the other bags—toiletries, clothes, and other necessities—along with the bottle of tequila he’d bought during his middle-of-the-night stop. “We should talk.”

Thorpe gave a tight nod. “Where we can keep an eye on Callie.”

“Agreed.” Sean’s thoughts raced as he backtracked to the bedroom in which she slept, Thorpe trailing behind him down the narrow passage. Inside, he walked to the far side of the bed, set the bottle on the nightstand, toed off his shoes, then climbed in beside her, trailing his hand across the chilled skin of her back. The other man stood, watching Callie with a hunger so strong, it was visceral.

In her sleep, she shivered, and Sean gathered her closer, sliding down to plaster his body against hers, wishing he could hoard her. But other than him, who did that benefit?

“Damn it, she’s freezing,” he told Thorpe. “Can you look at her foot? When you’re done, I’ll find some blankets for the bed.”

“Yeah.” Thorpe dug through the plastic bag dangling from his fingers until he found some cotton balls and antiseptic. With a wince, he flipped on the overhead light while Sean shielded Callie’s eyes.

If the sight of him holding her bothered Thorpe, it didn’t show. Instead, the big Dom simply cleaned her wound. He tended to her need, shelving his own, even when she moaned groggily and tried to squirm away. Sean watched the man’s big hand curl around her ankle to steady her so he could try to heal her. The visual metaphor struck Sean in the gut. Over the years, Thorpe had done that for Callie in nearly every other way. It was one reason she loved him. Sean wondered if his own broken trust with the girl could be repaired. Would she ever see that, even though he’d given her a fake name, his feelings for her had been very real?

Once Thorpe was done with his first aid, he turned off the light, casting the bedroom in shadow again. Sean flicked the rocker switch for the nightstand light, casting a dim artificial glow over the bed.

“It’s not serious,” Thorpe said. “Her heel will be tender for a few days.”

Sean nodded. “Good to hear.”

The other man looked away. Out of discomfort because Thorpe didn’t want to see him cradling Callie’s scantily clad body? Or out of respect because Thorpe believed she wasn’t his? Either way, the other Dom didn’t waste time squabbling or backbiting. Matters now were far too serious for that.

“Um, the guy who rented us the boat—Werner, wasn’t it?—said there was another bedroom down the hall, right?” Thorpe tugged at the back of his neck. “And a shower? If we’re done here, I think I’ll just grab those and—”

“We’re not. Stay.” Sean tempered his demand. “Please. We really do need to talk.”

There was no place in the small bedroom for Thorpe to sit except the bed. He stood, arms crossed, until Sean motioned to the mattress on the other side of Callie and passed him the bottle of tequila.

With a sigh, Thorpe sat on the edge and wrangled open the bottle, taking a long swallow.

“Sorry, I haven’t got any salt and lime.”

Thorpe shrugged. “It just slows down the drinking.”

He held out his hand for the bottle. “Amen to that.”

After taking a long swallow, he passed the tequila back to Thorpe. The alcohol was already warming him, but she still trembled with the chill.

“Callie needs a blanket,” Sean said. “Let me find one.”

Thorpe made to rise. “I’ll do it.”

It would have been so easy to let the other man see to the task, but what did Callie need? The answer wasn’t simple . . . but seemed so obvious. Sean swallowed hard.

“You keep her warm. I’ll find it. I think I remember where Werner said he stashed the rest of the bedding.”