Cherise Sinclair - If only

My Doms.

Vance ran his fingertips over her damp cheek. “Sweetheart?”

She looked up into his concerned blue eyes and whispered, “I love you.”

His expression changed to a stunned pleasure.

Turning her head just a few inches, she stared into Galen’s smoldering gaze. “I love you.”

And his eyes softened in a way she’d never seen before.

The bond between all of them was as real and alive as the blood moving through her veins. As alive as her beating heart. As she snuggled down, fading away and into darkness, she’d never felt so accepted.

So loved.

Their hands stroked over her, petting her. Loving her, even if they hadn’t said anything.

For an hour or so, Galen watched Sally as she slept, tucked in her favorite position between him and Vance. Vance had dropped off a while back, but Galen couldn’t. Not after what she’d said.

Surely the imp had been only half-conscious to have blurted that out. And she probably didn’t mean it. It was the aftereffect of being so close, of having such an intense scene.

And yet, the warmth he’d felt—still felt—from her words was disconcerting. Impossible. He didn’t want to love a woman. Would prefer not to love anyone, for that matter. People were far too fragile.

Even men could die.

Hell, he’d always worried about any partner being hurt during any action. But now… With a pained sigh, he glanced at the man sleeping on the other side of Sally. My brother.

It was twice as hard to have two people for which to fear.

Needing to think of something else, he ran his hand over Sally’s soft stomach. The rich fragrance of her lotion mingled with the scent of sex. Her lips were swollen from being kissed. Her nipples had softened but remained a dark red. He ran his finger around one, enjoying how the tender white skin of her breasts contrasted with the velvet smoothness.

And, hell, he’d woken her up. Heavy-lidded with sleep, she was just watching him, too limp to move.

He had to smile with that satisfaction, although she’d worried him when she talked about the ties between them…because he could feel them too.

The fisting might have been a mistake. The little imp had sucked him and Vance in from the moment they saw her, and with each revealed facet of her personality, she drew them in further.

And thinking of revealing things… Something had been bothering her, making her feel guilty. Now, he didn’t think painting faces on anal plugs was a serious crime…if he didn’t notice the resemblance to Disney dwarfs. Christ, that is just wrong.

Was that what was bothering her? Might be something else. But no matter what she’d done, a little subbie shouldn’t keep secrets from her Doms.

He eyed her. She’d blurted out that she loved him. What else might she spill?

Lowering his voice, increasing the command, he said, “Now, pet, tell me what you’ve been hiding.”

Waking with a yawn, Vance gave him an amused glance. The bastard had laughed his ass off at seeing the plugs. “Yeah, what did you do, sweetheart?”

What would be a deserving punishment for the serious crime of defacing anal plugs? Or had she done something else? Couldn’t be too—

“Hacked into the Harvest e-mails…Association.”

Every muscle in Galen’s body petrified such that he couldn’t even draw in a breath. She did not say that. She did not. “You—”

Vance interrupted, asking quietly, “You’ve been reading the Harvest Association e-mails?”

“Mmm.” The sleepy murmur was an assent.

God fucking dammit, he wasn’t going to—

Vance closed his hand on Galen’s shoulder in a bone-bruising grip. “Sweetheart, what do you do with the information?”

“Send it to New York. Need to tell my Feds.” A crease appeared between her brows, grew into a frown, before her beautiful soft brown eyes opened.

His wife’s brown eyes had been lifeless, had unblinkingly stared at him in reproach from her broken body. Had shown terror and agony that even death couldn’t erase.

He hadn’t saved her. He’d caused her death.

And now this little imp was… He rolled to his knees. The fury expanding through him mixed with an icy fear that sliced apart every control he had. “You did what?”

At her gasp, he realized he’d shouted the question. Fucking right. “You hacked into the deadliest—” Kneeling on the bed, he gave her shoulders a shake.

Vance shoved him back. “Jesus, Galen, get ahold of yourself.”

Sally struggled to sit upright, her back against the headboard. Her face paled—but hadn’t reached the gray-white it would if she were fucking dead.

Galen glanced at Vance. “Did you hear what she said? Do you believe—” His throat closed up, and he choked on the words.

“I didn’t…” Sally’s eyes were wide. “I was careful.”

“Careful!” He saw her flinch, couldn’t stop. “You have no—”

Vance had rounded the bed and now dragged him back even as he said, “Sally, the Harvest Association isn’t”—Vance’s voice was gravel-rough and shaken—“isn’t safe. You could be—”

Raped. Enslaved. Eviscerated. Burned alive. Galen yanked his arm out of Vance’s grip and leaned over her. “By God, you are not—”

She shoved him away and scrambled out of the bed.

Galen shouldered Vance away and stalked after her.

Shaking visibly, Sally was yanking on her clothes.

Fuck, what was he doing? This wasn’t the way to handle this. He forced himself to not loom over her, tried like hell to get his voice to even out. “We need to talk—”

“No.” She had her face turned from him. “We don’t.”

“Not right now,” Vance agreed, skirting Galen to put his arm around her. “Later we’ll sit down and—”

“Only if you actually listen to me.” She pushed Vance away.

“Listen to you!” Galen stared at her. No one had listened to Ursula. His wife’s mouth had been open. Because she’d died screaming. He grabbed Sally’s arm. “I’m fucking not going—”

“Shut it, Galen,” Vance snapped. “Sally, let’s go inside and talk about this.”

“I’m leaving.” She ripped her arm out of Galen’s grip. Her expression was frozen, posture rigid.

He remembered the soft lushness of her body, how she’d accepted him inside her. She couldn’t die. He wouldn’t let her die. “You’re not leaving. You’re going to sit down and listen to me.”

Thank Christ he’d parked behind her in the drive. She couldn’t get out unless he moved his car.

As if the realization of her trapped car occurred to her, she scowled. “Fuck you, Galen Kouros.” She spun toward the door.

Galen lunged after her.

A cannonball of a fist impacted his jaw, and pain burst like fireworks in his face. He slammed into the wall. Regaining his balance, he shook his head. His vision unblurred barely in time for him to block the next punch. His reflexes took over. Block and punch. He drove his fist into his partner’s gut.

Vance grunted and laid out a set of one-twos to Galen’s torso. “You. Fucking. Idiot.” Left-right. “You. Control. Your. Temper.”

Galen lost it. “She’ll die!” He blocked, spun, and kicked Vance into the wall. “Are you fucking blind? They’ll target her.”

GOD, WHAT HAVE I done? Standing on her bedroom balcony, Sally heard the men yelling in the cabana. And fighting.

They loved each other. Were closer than brothers. Now they were hitting each other.

She’d caused that.

And Galen was so mad. She’d known he’d be upset, but he was far, far past that.

Blinking back tears, she stepped inside. On the bed, Glock sat erect, ears pricked forward. The fighting was affecting him too.

Damn them, she wasn’t going to stay and have Galen yell at her some more. Hear them yell at each other. She’d done that, broken the two apart. Made them hate her.

The trembling inside Sally increased as she shoved her laptop and her clothes in her school backpack. Her hands shook as she secured pillows around the outside with a belt.

If only she could turn back time, keep the words from spilling out. Why had she told them?

But she had. She pulled in a breath and stared down at the backpack. Was she really going to leave? Run away?

She should stay. Talk to them. Maybe if they calmed down…?

The shouting grew even louder.

What had she done? “Stupid, selfish girl. Always thinking of yourself.” Her father’s words oozed into her mind.

She’d hurt them, the two men she loved. Because she was selfish and stupid.

No. No, I’m not, dammit. I was trying to do good. To save people. Why could they risk their lives and be heroes, and she couldn’t?

A sob welled into her throat, choking her. Just go. You’ve done enough damage. She picked up Glock and kissed the pale streak on his soft gray head. “I love you too, you know,” she whispered.

He rubbed his furry cheek on her chin, marking her with his scent. Establishing ownership.

If only her Doms had done the same.

After setting the cat outside her bedroom door, she turned the old-fashioned key, removed it, and jammed a bunch of twisted-up bobby pins into the large keyhole. “Unlock that, you j-jerks.” Beloved asshole jerks.

On the tiny balcony outside her bedroom, she used another belt to dangle her pillow-padded backpack over the side before letting go. Carefully, she crawled over the railing and hung by her arms. I’m a nerd. I’m not supposed to be dropping from balconies.