If only

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If only Page 31

by Cherise Sinclair


  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.”

  After hitching herself up, she ran her fingers into his thick hair—because he liked that—and kissed him, trying to tell him without words how much she loved him. How much she liked feeling the guilt fade with his honest forgiveness.

  Lifting her head, she had to bite back words of love.

  She heard Galen say, “Sit up now, pet.”

  She pushed upright, keeping her weight off her bottom, and flinched when she saw him hand the switch to Vance. Vance was going to hit her now?

  B-but, he said he forgave her.

  Hands around her waist, Galen lifted her off the bed and onto her feet. He framed her face between his hands, looking into her eyes. “Are you sorry you ran instead of talking to me?” His expression was open, showing her how much her lack of trust had hurt him.

  Tears welled in her eyes. She hadn’t meant to hurt him. God, she hadn’t thought he’d care.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I won’t do that again. I’m sorry.”

  A smile flickered over his lips. He kissed her, so, so gently, and it felt as if he was washing away the anger and hurt. And forgiving her.

  He took the switch from Vance and handed it to her. “I’m at fault as much as you were. People do yell, but I overreacted and at a very bad time. I should have left and returned once I regained control. Give me three welts.”

  “No!”

  “Yes.” He touched her nose and gave her his half smile. “Don’t look so upset. I’m not offering my ass. Put them on my shoulders.”

  No, please. “I don’t want to.”

  “I didn’t ask what you wanted, pet.” He turned and went down on his good knee.

  The sight of his beautiful back, the contoured muscles beneath the olive skin, could still take her breath away. “But…”

  “Go on. Let’s get past this,” Vance said.

  Is this horrible, ugly unhappiness what Galen felt when he hit her? How could he ever manage?

  The men wouldn’t back down, so she needed to get it over. She tried to summon some anger, find the feeling of desolation from that night or the sense of betrayal when Galen hadn’t let her explain. He’d punched Vance; he should pay for that.

  She couldn’t.

  “Sally,” Galen said in a guttural command. “Now.”

  Pulling in a shuddering breath, she struck. One. Two. Three.

  Any last trace of anger died as she saw the red lines marring the perfection of his back. Tears blurred her vision, and she threw the stick across the room as hard as she could. “I hate you!”

  “Oh, imp.” Galen rose and tried to pull her into his arms.

  How could he? “I don’t hurt people.” Weeping, she hit him, her fists bouncing off his jaw and the ridged muscles of his stomach.

  He ignored the blows, scooped her up, and sat on the bed, pulling her against his chest.

  “I hate you.” He’d yelled at her. Made her cry. Punished her. Made her hurt him. Head against his shoulder, wrapped in his arms, she choked on sobs, unable to stop.

  “Get it out, baby girl,” he murmured.

  She felt her legs tucked over Vance’s, and his fingers enfolded hers. She tried to pull away and got nowhere, so she glared through tears at the fuzzy lines of his face, the intensity of his level gaze. “I hate you too.”

  “No, you don’t, sweetheart.” His thumbs rubbed the backs of her hands. “Being mad at someone doesn’t mean you hate them.” He gave Galen a smile. “Punching someone doesn’t mean you hate them. Neither does punishing them.”

  Her sobbing gasps eased as she reached the end of her tears. “I know,” she whispered.

  “Your head knows, but deep down, you believe if you care for someone and they get angry with you, that they’ll pull away like your father did,” Vance said.

  “We’re not pulling away, baby.” Galen tilted her chin up so he could look into her face. “I love you, Sally.”

  What? Her mouth dropped open, and her heart came to a complete halt right along with her breathing.

  “No.”

  His lips curled into a wry smile. “Yes.”

  Galen loves me? Me? Her processing unit had just suffered a complete power failure, she thought, even as she tried to store everything away—with extra backups—so she’d never lose the memory of the soft look in his dark eyes. The feeling of his fingers under her chin, the slight roughness of his voice.

  After Galen released her, Vance cupped his big hand against her cheek, turning her to face him. “Sweetheart, I love you. Very, very much.”

  “But…” Her breathing stopped again. There was a serious lack of air in the room; she should complain to management. She tried to shake her head—he held her still as he studied her face. “But you can’t,” she whispered.

  “But I do.” Vance’s cheek creased.

  They love me? Both of them? Love me? “But-but you guys could have anyone.” Submissives were always trailing after them, flirting with them, even kneeling to catch their attention.

  “Very true,” Vance said agreeably, making her want to hit him. “But we want you. Aside from being gorgeous, you’re compassionate—”

  “Spirited and fun,” Galen said.

  “Intelligent and generous,” Vance finished. “And, oddly enough, you love us. Both. So we’ll just make sure you get all the love you could possibly desire—”

  “And all the control you need,” Galen added.

  That’s what she felt—that wonderful merging of being controlled and cherished. Galen’s strong arms k
ept her in place; Vance’s gentle hand on her face kept her centered. Their love poured over her like the warmth of the sun.

  Yes, she wanted them. Both. So very much.

  Vance’s lips curved up. “Say it, sweetheart.”

  And Galen gave her a tiny jiggle as if to shake the words loose.

  She elbowed him—just to show she wasn’t a complete wimp—and as he grunted, she smiled sweetly at Vance. “I love you.”

  His blue eyes brightened like sunlit glass.

  Christ in a carriage, how many times had she cried today? Eyes blurring with tears again, she looked up at Galen and saw his stern face could no longer conceal his deeper emotions. “I love you,” she whispered.

  “Thank you,” he whispered back. With his hand behind her head, he gave her a kiss sweeter than she’d ever known. Then he set her on Vance’s lap.

  Ouch. The welts burned, and she got in only one breath before Vance squeezed the air right out again. He kissed her, gently at first, growing more demanding. Wetter. Deeper. He released her only long enough to lay her on the bed and follow her down.

  He kept kissing her, caressing her breasts with a hard hand, and the sweeping arousal shook her.

  She heard Galen moving around the room. Country-western music came on—poor Galen must have lost the toss—with a slow love song. He joined them on the bed. When he took her lips, Vance slid down to kiss her breasts, sucking and licking, sending streamers of pleasure to her core until she felt as if she could almost come without anything else.

  Her lips were swollen when Galen raised his head. He studied her face with a faint smile. “You are so beautiful.”

  And under his scorching gaze, she felt beautiful.

  After another leisurely kiss, he moved down and settled between her legs.

  Oh God. “You don’t have to do that,” she said hastily. “I don’t—”

  He stared at her—Dom to impertinent submissive. “I know I don’t. I do what I want—and I’ve missed the taste of you.” He glanced at his partner. “Vance likes sucking on your breasts; I like playing with your cunt.”

  “Well, that’s direct,” she muttered, feeling her face flush as both men chuckled.

 

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