“You ever had a ménage?”

“Sure. Just for fun.” Thorpe tapped his thumb against the bottle. “This is different.”

Sean was glad he saw the distinction. “Completely. I don’t know how complicated it will be. But we’ll figure it out.”

“For her, we have to.”

“Exactly. The sun’s coming up.” Sean gestured to the graying sky outside the bedroom window as a mixed cocktail of relief and anxiety flowed through his veins. “First, we need some sleep before Hurricane Callie wakes and figures out where she is.”

“Sure. Yeah.” Thorpe braced himself on the mattress and pushed upright. “Do you want me to get out of your way and let you bunk down with your girl?”

Sean shook his head. Apparently, it was going to take Thorpe more than a few seconds to adjust to the idea of sharing her completely. “We both take care of her. This is our bed now. You need to stay with Callie in case she wakes up. She’ll be disoriented at best and furious at worst. Get her under the sheets, make sure she’s comfortable. Now that I’ve got some sunlight and I won’t run this boat into the shore, I need to anchor it someplace as secluded as possible.” He grabbed his shoes and thrust them on. “Back in ten.”

Sean didn’t wait for Thorpe to reply before he darted out the bedroom door. He picked up anchor and cruised the lake until he found a wide inlet with tall, craggy rocks on either side. He navigated to the middle, still away from shore, then dropped anchor again. It wouldn’t hide them from someone in a helicopter, but anyone else on the lake would be hard-pressed to find them.

Nearly forty minutes had passed. Exhaustion weighed his every limb, and nothing sounded better than tumbling into the bed with Callie and sleeping for long, uninterrupted hours before waking to make love to her.

When he hit the bedroom again, he stopped short in the doorway. Thorpe had fallen asleep on the right side of the bed with Callie spooned against his chest. They both looked peaceful, exhaling together in harmony.

The worry Sean had been trying to restrain jabbed at him. Naturally, he had concerns about letting Thorpe too close to his woman. Would she ultimately choose the other man instead? Or would Callie always need them both? Nearly three sleepless days hadn’t equipped him to answer that question now.

With a weary sigh, he shut the drapes, then shed everything except his boxer-briefs. He slid under the sheets, rolling over to kiss Callie’s forehead. She moaned quietly, then scooted closer to him as if seeking warmth . . . while Thorpe’s arm remained snug around her, his legs tangled in hers, his breath ruffling her long, loose hair. Sean drifted in the peace and slept.

* * *

COCOONED in warmth, Callie woke and squinted against the filtered light making its way through the curtains. The little bit she could see around her didn’t look at all familiar. It certainly wasn’t Dominion. No, wait. She’d left there and she wouldn’t rehash all the reasons that had been necessary. It damn well wasn’t her skuzzy dump of a Vegas motel either. And why did the ground seem like it was swaying slightly?

She forced one eye open—and the sights just kept getting weirder. A shirtless Sean slept on one side of her, his hard chest pressed to her own. His powerful torso rose above a soft, faded blanket. He looked damn good for a liar.

Behind her, hot breath spread unexpectedly across her neck. With a little jerk, she stared over her shoulder. Thorpe. Asleep in a rumpled white dress shirt and dark trousers. The five-o’clock shadow darkened his sharp jaw more than usual.

The men she loved surrounded her. It was like a fantasy. It had to be a dream. They hated one another . . . or they had back at Dominion. The time since her departure from the club rushed back to her, her memories lingering on the ride in the silver Jeep last night, on Thorpe smacking her ass and Sean approving every gesture with his stare in the rearview mirror.

Last night, they’d been a team, united by their determination to capture her and bring her back to safety. Or so they claimed. Thorpe, she believed. Sean? She really didn’t know him or have any idea how much of what had passed between them was a lie. It had felt so very real. He’d sworn it was. And she had to admit that if he’d simply wanted to bring her in for the bounty or prestige, he probably would have done it in Dallas. He certainly wouldn’t be letting Thorpe tag along, either.

But even if he actually loved her, as he claimed, and even if every word Sean and Thorpe said was true, she couldn’t stay. Her life was too dangerous, and she wasn’t going to drag them into her muck. They had some foolish notion in their heads to be noble, heroic. By all appearances, they cared. Whatever their motives, Callie couldn’t let them.

Carefully, she inched to the end of the bed and crept off the mattress, shivering and steadying herself. Crap, it was cold this morning. She reached for the first garment she encountered, Sean’s shirt. It even smelled like him. Where were her shoes?

Inhaling his musk as she slipped it on, she glanced at them both, regret nearly bringing her to tears. They’d worked hard to track her down and “rescue” her, not really understanding that the job of saving her was bigger than them both, even with their forces combined. Their effort humbled Callie, and the guilt for leaving them again nearly took her to her knees. But she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she was the reason they found themselves behind bars.

The floor beneath her dipped again, a gentle rocking that confused her. Where the hell had they brought her? Tiptoeing to the window, she eased the dull white drape aside and peeked out. Water—and a lot of it.

Callie sucked in a stunned breath and tried to shove down her panic. Shit! Okay, keep it together. If they were on a boat, maybe they were docked. There had to be a way off, right? In her head, though, she heard Sean ask again if she liked to swim . . .

On silent feet, she dashed out of the room, down the little passageway, then found a door leading out to the expansive deck. Water everywhere, at the front of the boat, either side . . . Callie sprinted to the back of the vessel, heart pounding three times for every step she took. But all she found was more water. The nearest land, formidable rock formations that would be a terrifyingly steep climb, looked a hundred feet away—at least.

Her heart pounded so furiously that her blood vessels felt close to bursting. Her entire body flooded with adrenaline. Memories of nearly drowning as a kid and the brackish water filling her mouth, stinging her eyes, and rendering her lungs useless overwhelmed her.

If she wanted off this rocking prison, she would have to swim and climb and haul ass through the desert without shoes, water, or sunscreen. Hell, she was doomed.

Callie couldn’t stop herself. She opened her mouth and screamed. And screamed. And screamed.

Suddenly, she felt a hand cup over her lips, trapping in the sound. “Are you trying to bring every police officer and bounty hunter within a hundred-mile radius down on our heads?”

Sean. He growled the words in her ear as he bracketed her back with his solid warmth.

On her right, Thorpe stormed up and turned on her, looking disheveled and pissed off. He grabbed the back of her neck in a firm grip. His gray eyes looked thunderous as he pinned her in place with his stare. “Calm down, pet. Not another sound. You’re safe here. We intend to keep you that way.”

Surrounded. Trapped. Escape had been the only way she’d survived for nearly as long as she could remember. Now, these two seemed determined to keep her here on this floating hell and ruin their lives in the process.

She twisted away, dislodging Sean’s hand from her mouth. “Don’t do this! Let me go before you regret it.”

“I told you not to make a sound,” Thorpe reminded, his voice heavy with disapproval.

Behind her, Sean’s disappointment seeped into her, too.

She hated hurting them. The submissive in her especially hated disappointing them. Logically, it didn’t make sense, but that didn’t make the feeling less real.

“Let’s get her inside.”

Sean nodded. “Just in case this lake isn’t as deserted as we hoped. The last thing we need is a fellow boater hearing her and calling 911. If they come down on our heads and find her, I may not be able to control what happens next.”

Without exchanging another word, he wrapped one hand around her back, then bent and slid his other arm behind her knees. He lifted her against his bare chest as if her weight didn’t strain him at all. His shoulders bulged and his jaw tightened as he turned and made his way back inside the living quarters. He stared down at her with reproving blue eyes and gave her a slow shake of his head.

She would have squirmed and scrambled out of his arms if she thought it would do any good, but Thorpe walked right behind them. No doubt, he’d haul her back if she tried to run—and provide her some sort of extra “motivation” to stay. And if she did flee, what then? Swimming to shore and walking back to civilization without any protection from the desert sun or a cent to her name just wasn’t an option.

“We’re not hashing this out again, lovely,” Sean said. “We told you last night that you were not to leave again without our permission or there would be consequences. Do you remember that?”

“This isn’t about me being disobedient. It’s about you two losing everything to try to save me when you can’t. No one can. I appreciate you wanting to help, but I wouldn’t be able to handle it if you wound up convicts over something futile.”

Sean sighed heavily as he lowered her to the bed and looked at Thorpe. “She’s not listening.”

“She has that nasty habit at times.” Thorpe approached her and took her chin in his hand. “Your situation isn’t futile. Have some faith in us.”

“Thorpe—”

He sent her a sharp stare and held up a finger to silence her. Damn if it didn’t work. He’d run hot and cold with her for years. Why the hell did she still respond to him so completely?

“It’s not open for discussion. When was the last time you ate?” he asked.

With a frustrated sigh, Callie mentally retraced the previous day. “Breakfast yesterday. Then I had a handful of almonds about three o’clock.”

They both looked at her with glaring disapproval before Sean clenched his fists. “Damn it, Callie.”

“It just wasn’t the most important thing on my mind.” Their frowns deepened, and their concern for her made her feel small, as if she’d messed up even more. “Sorry.”

“Not yet, but you will be,” Thorpe promised before he turned back to Sean. “How are your kitchen skills?”

“Passable. I’ve been feeding myself since college.” He shrugged. “I won’t poison her.”

“Good. Mine are terrible. It’s why God invented takeout.” Thorpe smiled wryly.

“I can feed myself, guys. If it will make you feel better, I’ll grab something and eat it all like a good little girl if you’ll just let me go.”

“Not this again.” Sean sounded at the end of his rope.

“She doesn’t understand . . . yet,” Thorpe drawled. “First, she needs food.”

“And a shower,” Sean added.

“True. God knows how many fucking germs were breeding at Glitter Girls.” Thorpe speared her with a glare. “Eventually, we’re going to have a long discussion about why you chose that place.”

“You mean you intend to punish me again.” She rolled her eyes.

“And then sometimes she catches on so quickly . . .” Thorpe smiled Sean’s way.

“I’ve been sure for a while now that she chooses not to ‘get it’ at least half the time because she’s just stubborn.” Sean sighed.

Callie balled her hands into fists. “Stop it! You’re not my Dom anymore—if you ever truly were. I took off my collar. And before either of you tells me again it doesn’t work that way, you both know that BDSM is safe, sane, and consensual. I’m not consenting. And you.” She turned to glare at Thorpe. “Yes, you’re the big bad Dom or whatever. But damn it, that doesn’t give you any right to keep me against my will. You have to let me go!”

They both tensed, then Sean shook his head. Instead of persuading them to release her, she’d hurt him. Pain was carved into his expression. By all appearances, he’d sacrificed everything to help her, and she’d thrown it in his face. Thorpe, too. A glance at her boss didn’t show him any less ruffled. He mostly looked pissed off, except his burning eyes . . . Anguish lay there.

Callie dragged in a tight breath, everything inside her feeling as if she’d screwed up again.