HAWKEYE ONE:

DANGER ZONE

Sierra Cartwright

www.loose-id.com

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Hawkeye One: Danger Zone

Sierra Cartwright

This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference
might be made to actual historical events or
existing locations, the names, characters,
places and incidents are either the product of
the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously,
and any resemblance to actual persons, living
or dead, business establishments, events, or
locales is entirely coincidental.

Published by

Loose Id LLC

870 Market St, Suite 1301

San Francisco CA 94103-2907

www.loose-id.com

Copyright © October 2008 by Sierra Cartwright

All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the
purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this
e-book may be reproduced or shared in any
form, including, but not limited to printing,
photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior
written permission from Loose Id LLC.

ISBN 978-1-59632-796-2

Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket,
and MS Reader

Printed in the United States of America

Editor: Jana J. Hanson

Cover Artist: Marci Gass

Chapter One

Oh, shit.

Nate Davidson opened his eyes and tried to

shake away the stars that had exploded in his head
and stolen his vision. It took several tries before the
image of strong, tall, dark, and dangerous Wolf
Stone blinked into focus. And when it did, Nate was
pretty sure he’d never seen anything better.

It’d been a long time. Too damn long.

“You’re lucky I didn’t tear your fool head off.”

Nate flexed his jaw to make sure it still worked.

“Feels to me like you did tear my head off.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Stone’s

voice was deep and ragged, cut glass on velvet.

“You’re not glad to see me? I thought you’d

start looking for a fattened calf.” Nate Davidson
knew what danger was. And it had nothing to do with
his battered body or the nasty storm snarling its way
over the Rocky Mountains. Danger was Wolf Stone.
And an unhappy Stone meant that Nate was right in
the middle of the danger zone. He struggled to get
his elbows behind him. Damn mountains were made
of rock, not the best pillow under any circumstances.
Downright painful when you’d had your clock cleaned

by a tank of a man. “Mind if I sit up?”

“Stay where you are.”

Lying on the ground, looking well over six feet

up into Stone’s cold eyes left Nate at a
disadvantage, or, rather, at a greater disadvantage
than he usually was around Stone. “Hospitable,
aren’t you, boss?”

“All trespassers get the same treatment. Don’t

take it personal.”

No matter how hard either of them tried to

pretend otherwise, they both knew Nate was no
ordinary trespasser.

And Stone was no ordinary property owner.

In the last three years, the man had

commanded several missions that Nate had been
assigned to. Every person selected had to meet
rigorous physical standards. By any measure, Nate
was a good-sized man, an inch over six feet, two
hundred seven pounds of lean muscle.

Still, Stone had him by two inches and at least

twenty pounds. Even now, recouping from injuries to
his right arm and left knee, Stone had effortlessly
brought

Nate

down.

Well,

that

was

an

understatement. Stone hadn’t brought him down. The
man had tossed Nate like yesterday’s newspaper.

All in all, he was lucky a nasty bruise and two

inch knot on the back of his head was all he got.

“Still waiting for an answer to my question,

Davidson.”

Sometimes, only the truth would do. “When you

refused protection, Hawkeye sent me.”

“You’re here,” Stone said incredulously, “to

protect

me?” He raised a dark eyebrow in a way that

made grown men cower. Nate’d seen it happen, and
he refused to admit to himself that it made him
cower, as well.

“Who’d have imagined?” Ludicrous.

Stone sheathed his KA-BAR knife. The

weapon was definite overkill in Nate’s mind. He
knew for a fact Stone didn’t need any kind of knife to
tear a strip out of someone’s hide.

“Tell Hawkeye I said thanks, but no thanks. You

can find your own way off the ranch.” Stone turned.

If he hadn’t been aware of the other man’s

injuries, Nate might have entirely missed the way
Stone favored his left knee. As much as he’d hate to
admit it, Stone did need back up.

The threat against his life was real and

imminent. Within days, Stone was expected in
Denver to testify against Carlos Rivera. He was the

only eyewitness to the hit that had taken out
Fernando Garcia, an honorable U.S. DEA agent,
leaving the man’s five-year-old daughter as the only
survivor. Word on the street was that some lucky
bastard would get a cool million if Stone didn’t make
it to court.

While he was holed up in his Rocky Mountain

fortress, he was safe enough. But once he left the
ranch…

“So,” Nate called out when Stone got about ten

paces away. “You’re not interested in knowing how I
breached the perimeter?”

“I knew you were here, didn’t I? You got exactly

nowhere before I had your ass in a sling,” he called
back.

Maybe Stone wasn’t as vulnerable as those on

the outside had believed. Still, Nate wasn’t going
anywhere. He hadn’t traveled across several time
zones to get here only to turn tail and run because
Stone had taken him down. No matter how hard that
landing had been. “Stone?”

The other man didn’t slow down.

“Storm’s brewing, man,” Nate shouted.

“You’ll get wet.”

Well, hell. Nate collapsed back onto the

unforgiving ground. That’d gone well.

Stone disappeared over a ridge, vanishing into

thick Ponderosa pines.

In a nearby tree, a hairy woodpecker -- nasty

little bastard -- beat out a staccato that matched the
throbbing headache in Nate’s temples.

Under any circumstances, he deferred to

Stone. The man exuded authority. There was
something palpable about it. It inspired loyalty. Even
now, when Stone didn’t want assistance, didn’t want
to be protected, Nate had no intention of leaving.
Stone was as stubborn as the mountains were
rugged. But Nate was here to stay.

Hawkeye hadn’t recruited Nate for this job. He,

plus the helicopter pilot and copilot, had volunteered.
Getting onto Cold Creek Ranch had taken days of
planning and cunning, not to mention the assistance
of a handful of teammates. And none of them would
admit failure.

Half a dozen raindrops pelted his cheeks.

Even in the last few minutes, the storm had

gathered clouds in tight and whipped them together
with wind to descend the eastern slope of the
Continental Divide.

Could this get any worse?

Lightning slashed through the swollen, gray

sky, igniting a path of cloud-to-cloud strikes.

Yeah. He supposed it could always get worse.

* * * * *

Wolf Stone, no matter how drop-dead

gorgeous he was, was out of his freaking mind. And
mean, to boot. “You left Nick out there?” Kayla
Fagan demanded, her mouth dropping open. “Have
you seen the weather?”

“He’s not made of sugar.”

“Meaning he won’t melt?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, crap, Wolf. If this is how you treat your

friends, what do you do to your enemies?”

He shrugged. “None of them left alive to tell.”

He smiled, and it did nothing to soften his features.
The quick curve was more wicked than anything.
And it made his blue eyes darken, reminding her of
that few moments of twilight before the sky
swallowed the sun and all hell broke out.

He strode from the room, and she followed.

“Mr. Stone --”

“Wolf, or just Stone,” he interrupted, not slowing

down. “And I’m not worried about how I’ll sleep
tonight.” He crouched in front of the hearth, tossing
kindling into the empty fireplace grate. When she’d
first heard he was holing up in a log house on a
ranch, she’d been disappointed, picturing a remote,
barely inhabitable two-room cabin.

She couldn’t have been more wrong.

Wolf Stone evidently enjoyed luxury, and his

home was the intersection of comfort and high-tech.
This room, more than any other, gave a nod to his
heritage. A Navajo rug, painstakingly woven by his
grandmother, hung from one of the walls. Another
rug, not crafted by his family, dominated the area
near the fireplace.

In other rooms, he flicked a switch to ignite the

gas fireplaces, but in this one, he obviously preferred
to build it himself.

Even though she was stunned by his bad

behavior, she couldn’t help but be fascinated
watching him. By hot and by damn, this man was a
sexy piece of work. Broad shoulders. Long, black
hair, as wild as he was, cinched back with a thin
piece of brown leather. And Lord, did he have a tight
ass.

Oh, and a cock with plenty of potential.

Not that she’d seen it actually full-length.

But at night, when he thought she was asleep,

he walked around the house in the buff.

Last night, he’d been partially erect, and the

darkened view had inspired her dreams and nearly
made her forget her job.

Lucky for her, at least part of the time, she was

required to have her hands on him. She just hadn’t
quite figured out how to professionally get him to
take off all his clothes to touch his naked body.

Thunder cracked, and she thought of Nate. “I

think you should at least invite him in until the storm
passes.”

“You going to nag me?” he asked.

“Convince you to change your mind, using my

excellent powers of verbal persuasion.” She grinned.
Not that he noticed with his back to her.

“Save your breath. Hawkeye doesn’t need to

squander its resources on me.”

Hawkeye. The company they all worked for,

named for the man who’d founded it, a man she, and
most others, had never had the opportunity to meet.
Wolf, she’d heard, was one of the man’s closest
advisors.

In a professional capacity, Hawkeye, Inc. was

one of the world’s premiere personal security firms.

The world was changing, becoming more global,
and at the same time, smaller.

Companies and people had resources that

needed protecting. From jewelry to art, family
members who were kidnapping targets, to
celebrities and corporate secrets, someone had to
keep the world safe.

That’s where Hawkeye came in. With their

highly trained men and women, some of them former
military -- with a heavy emphasis on recruitment from
Special Forces -- many ex-cops and bodyguards,
lots of IT people and other brainiacs who left her
scratching her head, they provided protection that
was second to none. The higher the stakes, the
likelier it was that Hawkeye would be the firm of
choice.

Her teammates were the best in the world. She

was proud to be one of them. “Hawkeye brought me
in as well,” she reminded him. “And I’ve never been
fortunate enough to meet him. Maybe he would go to
these extraordinary lengths for anyone of us, but
maybe he wouldn’t. All I can say is, he obviously
considers money spent on your rehabilitation and
protection to be money well spent, not squandered.”

“My mind is made up.” He struck a match, filling

the room with the sharpness of sulfur. He looked
over his shoulder at her.

“But --”

He cut her off. “I told Hawkeye not to send

anyone. I meant it.”

“You can have a heart, just until the weather

clears. Then you can go back to your regularly
scheduled grumpiness.”

His mouth was set, brooking no argument. “Let

it be.”

Huge splatters of rain hit the floor-to-ceiling

windowpanes.

Wolf might be able to sleep at night if he left his

comrade out there, but she would toss and turn with
worry.

Decision made, Kayla crossed to the hallway

closet, pulled open the gigantic golden oak doors,
and took out a raincoat. She also grabbed her gun
and checked it before tucking it into her waistband.
She snatched up a pair of compact binoculars and a
compass and was shoving her arms in the sleeves
of the yellow slicker as she walked through to the
kitchen.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Exactly what you said.”

“Meaning?”

“I’m saving my breath. I decided not to argue

with you,” she said.

“Stop right there.”

He spoke softly, but his voice snapped with

whiplash force. Despite herself, she froze. She’d
faced untold danger, but this man, unarmed,
unnerved her. A funny little knot formed in the pit of
her stomach.

Kindling crackled as fire gnawed its edges.

“I asked you a question.”

“I’m going for a walk,” she said.

“Turn around,” he instructed, his voice all the

more terrifying for its quietness. “And look at me.”

Slowly, she did.

He stood and faced her. “Let’s try that again,”

he said quietly. “And let’s be very clear, Ms. Fagan,
that you’re here at my pleasure.” He took a single
step toward her. “I don’t like being disobeyed.”

That word was loaded with meaning and threat.

Wildly she thought of the room in the basement,

the one with crops and paddles hanging from the
walls. The one she’d been forbidden to enter, and
the first door she’d opened when he’d left the house.

She locked her knees so she didn’t waver. “I’ve

never been much for being obedient.” Which might
be a teeny little white lie. She wasn’t experienced at
dominance and submission, but she’d always
wanted to experiment.

“Nathaniel Davidson is far from helpless.”

“He’s a fellow member of Hawkeye. I’m not

allowed to leave him out there. And I won’t.” She met
his eyes. “Really, Mr. Stone, I don’t really care if it
gets me fired.”

Or worse. She pivoted and walked

away.

The wind whipped at the door, nearly snatching

it from her hand.

She turned up the collar of her ineffective

raincoat. There was never anything friendly about a
Rocky Mountain storm.

She’d grown up in Tucson where torrential

rains were common during the monsoon season.
They cooled the weather to bearable seventy-degree
temperatures, but this…it was freaking like winter.

Fortunately, she didn’t have far to trudge. From

her conversations with headquarters, she had a
pretty good idea of where the insertion was
supposed to happen. And in less than fifteen
minutes, the ground beneath her sizzling with
electrical ferociousness, she saw a streak of orange.

She grinned.

Members of her team were smart. Nate had

donned a reflective safety vest. That would, at least,
stop friendly fire.

“Davidson!” When she got no response, she

called out a second time.

He started toward her. “Come to rescue me,

have you?” he shouted above the roar of the wind.
“Bet Stone told you to come.”

“He sends his regards and invites you to sit

next to the fire while he pours you a cognac.”

Nate laughed. “How much trouble are you in for

coming after me?”

“He said he doesn’t like to be disobeyed, but

he didn’t threaten to flay the skin from my hide.”

“Doesn’t mean he won’t.”

“Thanks. That’s a comforting thought.”

“He doesn’t know?”

“Who I am? No.” She shook her head. “He

thinks Hawkeye sent him a physical therapist.”

Nate grinned. “Do you know enough about that

to do no harm, doc?”

“Uh… I watched a special on PBS.”

Thunder cracked.

“Can anyone join this party?”

Wolf. Her breath threatened to choke her. How

much had he overheard? It shouldn’t have surprised
her that he’d followed, that he’d effortlessly covered
the same ground she had in far less time. The man
was in shape, and he kept himself sharp, the same
way he had when he led American troops in the
Middle East.

Over the lash of the summer storm, his voice

laden with command, he said, “Both of you, back to
the house.”

The wind snatched a few strands of hair and

whipped them against his high cheekbones. His
features were roughly hewn, and, out here, in the
elements that suited him, he appeared even more
formidable than he had in the house.

“Fabulous,” Nate said. “Thanks. Maybe I will

get a cognac, after all.”

“Don’t count on it,” Stone fired back.

Cheerfully, as if he couldn’t have been happier,

Nate grinned and gamely started down the
mountainside.

Freak. No one should be happy about

this kind of reception.

“Move it, Fagan.” Stone instructed, leaning

forward so he could issue his command directly into
her ear.

“Yes, sir,” she said quietly.

“Did you say something?”

She blinked innocently.

His arched brow told her he hadn’t bought it.

Steps short but sure, she followed Nate,

leaving Stone to bring up the rear.

Minutes later, the mean-looking sky unleashed

a torrent. Earth became mud. Rocks became as
slick as ice.

She lost her balance, and Stone was there,

wrapping his good arm around her waist, pulling her
up and back, flush against the solidness of his body.

The sensation zinging through her was from

him, not the crack of lightning. “I’m good,” she told
him. “Fine.”

He held her for a couple of seconds.

His warm breath fanned across her ear. What

would it be like to lean back, she wondered, for just a

bit longer? Maybe to be protected in his strong
arms? To feel his cock against the small of her
back? To surrender to the fantasies that kept her
awake at night and her pussy moist, even now?

And what fantasies they were.

Last night’s sight of his semierect dick had

driven her mad.

After he returned to his own room, she’d

thought of the crops and paddles in his downstairs
room. She’d pictured him using them on her while
she gasped and strained, and ultimately surrendered
to the inevitable. Turned on and needy, she’d pulled
up her sleep shirt and parted her labia to find her clit
already hardened.

She’d come with a quiet little mew and wanted

nothing more than to scream the house down as his
cock pounded her.

She shook her head. She couldn’t afford

thoughts like this with any man, particularly one she
was sent to protect.

Oh, man, that would go over so well when he

found out.

“I’m fine,” she repeated. “And you need to be

careful. Otherwise we’ll be spending the next week
undoing the damage.”

“So speaks my

physical therapist.” Before she

had a chance to reply, he added, “I want you out of
the storm.”

She started down the mountainside, being

more careful this time.

The trip up had taken maybe about fifteen

minutes. Down took half an hour. And by the time
they reached the home’s wraparound porch, the sky
spit out pieces of ice, in the form of hail.

Very polite country, this.

Minding her manners, she took off her shoes

and left them on a rubber mat, then hung the slicker
on a peg.

Kayla told herself two lies. First, that she wasn’t

stalling. Second, that her fingers were shaking only
because of the cold weather.

Stone unlocked the back door and indicated

she should precede both men into the kitchen.

Nate followed her, and then Stone relocked the

door behind them.

“You,” he demanded, pointing a finger at Nate.

“I want to know what the fuck you were thinking.”

Nate took a step back for self-preservation.

Both men dripped water and tracked mud.

Neither seemed to care. And neither seemed to
notice she was even there.

“Hawkeye didn’t assign you,” Stone surmised.

“No,” Nate said.

“Then you volunteered.” The storm hadn’t

remained outside… It had gathered force around
Wolf and threatened to consume all of them with
white-hot heat.

Nate’s retreat was brought up short when he

backed into the countertop. “Yeah,” he said. “What of
it?”

“You knew I wouldn’t want you here.”

Nate shrugged. “I knew you wouldn’t want

anyone. Because you’re stubborn. And a fool.”

“A

fool?”

“For thinking you can always do it all, all alone.

No man is an island, friend. And you’d damn well do
the same for me.”

The men were a study in contrast. The planes

of Wolf’s Navajo features to Nate’s boyish all-
American good looks. Fair to dark. Alpha to beta.

“Fuck your ego, Wolf. You know there’s no

place I’d rather be,” Nate said, as if that explained
everything.

Kayla sucked in a breath when Wolf devoured

the remaining distance with a few strides, pinning
Nate totally against the counter. Nowhere to run.
Nowhere to hide.

“Wolf,” she said, licking her lower lip.

“You,’” he said, barely sparing Kayla a glance,

“will be dealt with directly.”

Her stomach plummeted to her toes.

She was watching two magnificent warriors

spar, and, if she wasn’t careful, she’d be collateral
damage.

Wolf returned his attention to Nate, capturing

the man’s head between his palms and holding him
prisoner.

What the hell…

Wolf kissed Nate. Thoroughly. Punishingly.

Brutally.

Her breath hissed out in stunned surprise.

Nate Davidson and Wolf Stone were

gay?

Well, turn her prim and proper world upside

down and inside out. Her gaydar hadn’t gone off, not
even once.

How could two virile, handsome, masculine

men -- men that she wanted to

fuck -- possibly be

gay? And just how bad did it suck to be her?

Chapter Two

“Nice to see you, too,” Nate said when Stone

ended the kiss. The man had all but shoved his
tongue down his throat. He’d barely had time to
breathe, and he tasted the potency of Irish whiskey
on Stone’s tongue.

Just from that, Nate’s cock was hard and

insistent. Carnal desire curled in his stomach. He
wanted this man’s domination, craved it.

All the anger, the frustration, the neediness that

had built over the last twelve months crashed into
him.

Stone’s dick was as hard as his own. He might

tell Nate his presence wasn’t wanted at the ranch,
but his body said something else entirely.

If he said the word, Nate’d drop his pants and

be bent over the end of the bed so fast …

Then, aware of Kayla, he said to Stone, “I think

we’ve shocked Ms. Fagan. But I’m betting it won’t be
the last time.”

“I’m…errr…” Kayla cleared her throat. “Yeah…

just…”

Nate saw her draw in a steadying breath. He

knew how she felt. He hadn’t exactly been expecting
that, either.

“I’m surprised. I had no idea.”

“That?”

“You’re both gay.”

“Bi,” Nick said. “As for Stone, as long as he’s

in charge, he’s happy.”

“I can wait in the other room,” she said. “Or

brew coffee. Coffee’s good.”

“Coffee’s good,” Stone agreed. “Since

everyone is so worried about Davidson, we should
probably get him warmed up.”

“Hypothermia is always a possibility,” Nate

said good-naturedly. “Or I could have been
incinerated by lightning. Did you know Colorado
ranks third, nationally, in lightning fatalities? Leading
state in the West.”

“You have no idea what a relief it is to know

that I have two weather reporters in my house.”

“Happy to help,” Nate said.

“Since you’re here, you might as well change

into dry clothes.”

“You mean I finally have the chance to get in

your pants?”

“Forget coffee,” Kayla said. “I think I’ll open a

bottle of wine.”

Nate grinned. “Pour me a glass?” Then to his

reluctant host, asked, “Mind if I shower?”

“Make yourself at home.”

The words were grudging and had more than a

little bite of sarcasm. But Nate’d gotten what he
wanted. He was here, and Stone had kissed him
hard. The taste of the fine Irish whiskey Stone had
been drinking now lingered on Nate’s tongue.

Whistling, he grabbed a green apple from the

fruit bowl -- compliments of Kayla and not Stone, he
was sure. He grinned and then headed down the
hallway. And not toward the guest bathroom. Nope.
He was going straight for the master suite. Nate was
already in trouble. Might as well see how far he could
actually push it.

Stone’s bedroom was exactly like the man

himself. Rigid. Nothing out of place. The dresser had
nothing on its top. From past experience, Nate knew
he’d find a loaded pistol, along with car keys and a
wallet in the top drawer of the nightstand. The top
drawer of his bureau would have his three sterling
silver Navajo bracelets, one a family heirloom.

In Stone’s closet, all his shirts were separated,

long sleeved on one side, short sleeved on the other.
They were subdivided by a dazzling array of color.
Black and khaki. Oh, and there was one white shirt
for those times that were more formal, and he
needed something to go under his tailored suit or the
lone sports coat. He had exactly two ties to choose
from.

Blue jeans were stacked on a shelf. Workout

shorts and swim trunks were folded with military
precision on another. Everything was black,
including the sneakers.

Imaginative.

After helping himself to a pair of blue jeans and

a black T-shirt, he took a bite out of the crisp sour
apple and put his own gun on the dresser top. He
ignored the laundry hamper and dropped his wet
clothes right in the middle of the bedroom floor.

He took his time in the oversized shower with

the classy glass enclosure, appreciating the Navajo
designs etched in the glass. Coming to Stone’s
place was better than any hotel Nate had ever
stayed in. Nothing was overstated. Everything was
elegant. Tiled floor with radiant heat, granite
countertops… Only the best for Wolf Stone.

Nate set the showerhead for a gentle spray,

turning it from the “invigorating” pulse Stone had it

set for.

The bar of soap sitting in the dish was totally

masculine, with a spicy, outdoorsy scent. Nate
normally went for something a little more subtle.
Something that smelled clean, maybe like a
rainstorm.

Still, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

He soaped.

He whistled.

He shampooed.

He stalled.

He soaped again.

He waited.

“You know where the guest room is.”

Score.

Nate turned to face the water, letting it rinse the

soap from his face.

“And the hamper.”

He knew Stone could see him clearly through

the glass door. So he took time lathering his balls,
making sure to wash them thoroughly, then he drew

upward on his cock.

“You’re pushing your luck, Davidson. I’ll put you

back out in the weather so fucking fast --”

“Stone?” Nate turned off the faucet and pulled

open the door. “Shut up.”

Stone’s jaw slackened.

Nate knew he’d pay for the comment later, so

he enjoyed the hell out of the shocked moment while
it lasted. “Forgot to grab a towel.”

Stone snatched a white towel from a well-

organized basket and tossed it at Nate.

“Thanks.” Instead of wrapping it around his

waist, he dried his face and hair, ignoring the rest of
his body.

Stone stood there, not moving.

Even when they were apart, Nate fantasized

about having Stone’s cock up his ass. It didn’t matter
who he was with, where he found his release, it was
Stone he thought of, Stone he wanted.

Now that they were together, Nate wouldn’t be

put off again.

He wanted Stone; Stone wanted him. Could

the math get any simpler?

From their past experience, he knew the Alpha

male wouldn’t be gentle when it happened. Stone
would take him the way he wanted to be taken, hard
and fast, possessively.

He just wanted it to happen sooner, not later.

Stone didn’t leave the bathroom, and tension

grew taut and stretched. Nate did nothing to defuse
it.

“Why did you volunteer?”

“You’re a stubborn man, Stone. Hawkeye

thinks you need backup. And you refused his offer of
help. So a few of us are using our personal time.”

“Waste of vacation hours, if you ask me.”

“We didn’t. I didn’t. None of us considered it a

waste of our time. You’d do the same for any one of
us.” And had, on many occasions. “You’re not stupid.
You know the threat is very real.”

“It won’t happen here.”

“It could.”

“They want me on their turf.”

And it went without saying that Stone would

take the battle to them. When he did, Nate would be
at his side. He’d defend this man to the death.

“You disobeyed a direct order to leave the

premises.”

“Yeah,” Nick agreed. Even though the air in the

bathroom was cooling, his cock stayed hard. He was
so aroused he could jump from his skin.

“I don’t take that lightly.”

Under Stone’s penetrating gaze, Nate lowered

his own eyes. It wasn’t in apology. It was in stark
recognition of the other man’s authority.

Before he knew what was happening, Stone

had acted.

The towel was dropped. Stone spun Nate,

wrenching his arm up his back. “Fuck,” he gasped.

Stone moved in closer, slamming Nate’s pelvis

into the counter and trapping him against the
cabinets.

Nate struggled, but it didn’t matter. Stone

subdued him effortlessly, as if he were a rank
amateur instead of a trained professional. An
unsubtle reminder of who was boss.

Nate breathed deep, and after a few seconds,

Stone eased his grip.

“Still think I can’t take care of myself?”

“Never said you couldn’t,” Nate said. “Just here

to watch your back.” He met the larger man’s eyes in
the mirror.

Stone’s hair was mussed, and the contrast of

their skin tones was mesmerizing.

He was totally aware of the scratch of denim

and the hardness of Stone’s cock pressing against
him. God, he wanted him. Wanted him so bad.

“Spread your legs.”

He could have died on the spot.

As best as he could, trapped as he was, he

spread his legs. With his left hand, Stone reached
around Nate and opened a drawer.

Lube. And a condom.

Nate’s eyes closed.

“Look at me,” Stone commanded. “I want to

see exactly what you’re thinking.”

Nate did as ordered, difficult as it was. He just

wanted to surrender to the sensations. But Stone
wanted him as an active participant.

One-handed, Stone flipped the top and

squirted a dollop onto the countertop.

Even above the sound of his own ragged

breathing, Nate heard Stone’s zipper. The other man
eased back a bit, probably to lower his jeans.

“What do you want?” Stone asked.

“You.” Nate’s arm was wrenched a bit higher.

“Your cock,” he clarified around a gasp.

Stone used his left hand and his teeth to rip

open the condom’s wrapper.

Could this take any longer? His patience was

fried. He didn’t intend to wait another five stinking
minutes.

Stone pulled back a bit to put on the condom.

“I’m clean,” Nate said.

“So am I. But we’ll do it my way until we have

the chance to talk.” Stone then scooped some of the
lube from the granite.

Nick tensed when the cool gel was smeared on

his anus. “Give me your finger!”

Stone did.

Nick gasped at the sudden intrusion.

Christ.

Stone stretched him, moistened him, shoved

Stone stretched him, moistened him, shoved

deep inside. He rose onto his toes as Stone
dominated him.

Then he felt Stone’s cockhead against the

barely stretched opening. Even though he’d been
lubed and prepped, he wasn’t totally ready for
someone as big, as rigid, as Stone. “It’s been a long
time for me,” Nick said, by way of plea.

“You should have thought about that before you

goaded me.”

Stone bit his ear.

Nick screamed out and arched his back.

Stone drove his cock home.

Nick was stretched, invaded, hurting.

This was about punishment, Nick knew. But it

was about a whole lot more, as well. This was the
pent-up frustration and denial.

Stone found his own rhythm, deep, slamming

against Nick’s prostate. He’d never felt anything this
overwhelming. He was consumed with it, by it. So
close…so close to his own orgasm.

“Don’t even think of touching your cock.”

He’d been thinking of exactly that. But now,

forbidden even that courtesy, he simply surrendered

to Stone’s punishing thrusts.

Stone clamped down on Nate’s shoulder, his

fingers digging into the flesh. With a grunt, he came.
The feeling of his Dom coming inside him made
Nate shudder. There was nothing he wanted more.

And even though Nate had been denied his

own orgasm, he was totally satisfied.

Their gazes collided in the mirror again.

Nate saw the same raw desire in the Alpha

male’s eyes that he knew was reflected in his own.

This wasn’t just a one-time thing.

And he was grateful.

Deliberately, no motion wasted, Stone

untangled their bodies. He started by releasing his
grip on Nate’s shoulder, then his arm. Finally, Stone
eased his cock from Nate’s hole.

“Your cock still hard?” Instead of waiting for an

answer, Stone reached around and felt for himself.

Blood flooded Nate’s entire body where

circulation returned. And his penis was full-length,
turgid. He moaned when Stone stroked him. “Yes!”
God, what would it be like to have a hand job from
this Alpha? “Stone…”

“You going to come?”

“I…” His head tipped back. “Yes.”

Stone stopped his motions. “Get dressed and

meet us in the great room.”

Nate sagged, catching himself against the

counter. “Finish me off!”

“Get dressed,” he repeated.

“Bastard.”

“If you jerk off, I’ll know.”

He would, too.

“And if you do, your punishment will mean you

don’t get my cock. Understand?”

He nodded.

The bedroom door slammed behind Stone.

Nate’d finally gotten what he wanted. The man

he desired above all others had taken him, used him
like he had before, rode him, punished him. It was
exactly what he needed.

After such a long absence, one taste simply

wasn’t enough.

Damn. Damn. And fuck it all.

He crossed to Stone’s bed and snatched up

the jeans he’d selected.

Even though he could ejaculate in under a

dozen strokes, he knew the same thing that Stone
knew. Because Stone had issued a direct order,
Nate wouldn’t touch himself.

* * * * *

Stark. Raving. Mad.

Kayla was jumping out of her skin.

She’d do anything to know what the two men

were up to in the bedroom. But Stone, damn him,
had shut the door behind him.

That hadn’t stopped her from listening, though.

Which had only whetted her appetite.

She considered herself a progressive type of

person. In fact, some of her friends, female as well
as male, were gay. But she hadn’t ever given much
thought to what they actually did when the lights went
out.

Until now.

The image of Stone with his cock up Nate’s

ass made her pussy moist. But how the hell was she

supposed to ask if she could watch them the next
time they did the nasty?

She was considering a second glass of wine

when Stone walked back into the kitchen.

He filled the space, stole her breath. She

couldn’t believe it, but she wanted him, probably now
more than ever, and that confused the hell out of her.
How could she want a man who’d just primitively
taken another man?

“I’ll have one of those,” he said, indicating the

uncorked bottle.

She nodded. Her hand shook a bit as she

poured. “So,” she said. Since the word sounded a
bit wobbly, she cleared her throat. “About what just
happened…” She felt the heat chase up her face.

“Your face is the same color as the merlot,” he

observed as she offered him the glass of wine.

“Yes, well…” She blushed often and easily,

much to her chagrin. Throughout her childhood,
she’d been teased mercilessly. After handing off the
piece of crystal stemware, she fanned her face.

The rain still beat a nasty staccato against the

windowpanes, and the fire in the great room had
turned to embers.

She backed up into the counter and spread her

arms, gripping the edge as if she didn’t have a care
in the world. Truthfully, her heart pounded so rapidly
she felt as if it would explode in her chest. “I’m
curious.”

He took an appreciative sip of the room-

temperature merlot. “Go on.”

“Nate said neither of you are strictly

homosexual.”

“We’re not.”

“As long as you can be the dominant one?”

He took a drink and regarded her over the rim.

“Is this a clinical question, or a personal one?”

“I couldn’t help but hear --”

“Because you were listening,” he interrupted.

“You’re blushing again.”

Aware of the message her body language was

sending, she folded her arms protectively across her
chest.

“You couldn’t help but hear…” he prompted.

“And I want to watch.”

“You’d rather watch two men get it on than

participate?”

She blinked. “Participate? Like with the

two of

you?” Maybe she was mistaken. Maybe he didn’t
mean anything of the sort. “Like a

threesome?”

“Or some variation,” he said.

How the hell could there be a variation? She

wasn’t exactly naive, but maybe he needed to draw
her a picture.

“Have you ever been dominated, Kayla?

Sexually, I mean. As in made to please instead of
thinking only about your own pleasure?”

“I’ve seen your room in the basement.” There.

She’d blurted it out. So much for subtle.

“The whips. The St. Andrew’s Cross?”

Oh, God.

This conversation had gotten out of hand, fast.

“I…errr…”

“Have you ever been submissive?”

Bored, yes. Bored enough just to lie there

passively. But to actively put another’s pleasure
before her own?

“Yes or no?” he snapped.

“No.” She gulped.

“And you’re curious.”

She nodded.

“For one, you can start by answering questions

honestly, with a yes or a no. Am I clear?”

She started to nod, but then checked herself.

“Yes.”

“What intrigues you?”

“You make it sound as if being dominated, as if

being submissive is actually being active.”

He nodded. “It is. There’s a difference in being

a submissive and a victim. A submissive is
expected to participate, to draw the boundaries, to
be unflinchingly candid about what he or she wants.
That’s what I demand from anyone who submits to
me.”

Was she going to do that? Submit to him? Put

her trust in his hands? Tell him what she wanted? “I
want to be on the cross,” she confessed.

“Why?”

Unflinchingly candid.

Uncrossing her arms, she reached for her own

wine and took way too big a drink. “I want to
experience the vulnerability. The honesty.”

“Honesty?”

“I’m tired of running and hiding.”

“Tell me more.”

Oh. Her and her big mouth. She moistened her

lips, then met his searing blue eyes. “I’ve always
wanted more.” She paused. When he didn’t fill the
silence, she added, “Sexually.”

“You’ve pictured yourself spread open wide

begging for my lash, have you?”

This was a good time to run and hide; forget

honesty.

“Do you orgasm when you have sex?”

“Yes. Sometimes. Most of the time. But I keep

thinking there should be more. I don’t want to cuddle,
like men expect me to. I don’t want sweet little words.
I want to be shattered. I want to be so complete, so
satisfied that I’m not able to make a grocery list in
my head after sex.”

“You’ve been having sex with the wrong men,”

Nate said.

She blinked. She hadn’t realized Nate had

joined them until he spoke up. Lord. Let the ground
swallow her whole.

He pushed away from the wall. “Is our Kayla

coming onto you, Stone?”

“Seems she wants to dance with danger.” He

raised his glass in her direction. Then he looked
back at Nate. “You adverse to eating pussy?”

Kayla blinked. She couldn’t possibly have

heard Stone correctly.

“I’ve done it once or twice.”

“You any good at it?”

“Yes. Or I was. Probably, I’m a bit rusty.”

“Get on your knees,” Stone commanded him.

Wine sloshed over the rim of her glass, her

hand shook so hard.

Nate immediately, unquestioningly dropped to

his knees.

This was so not what she had in mind. Her

nerves were shot. Totally. Completely.

“You want to be dominated?” Stone asked her

above the kneeling man’s head.

Did she?

Did she?

“Put down your wine,” Stone told her. When she

complied, he continued, “Do you want to take a walk
where you’ve never gone before? Keep in mind it
won’t always be what you want or what you’re
expecting. But it will always be good for you.”

“I…”

“Or do you want to cuddle and make grocery

lists?”

When she’d thought of being dominated, she’d

pictured the two of them in the basement, her tied
up, him making her come over and over again until
she was exhausted and he had to take her down
from the cross. She hadn’t been, couldn’t have been,
prepared for this.

“Yes, or no, Kayla?”

Oh. God. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Yes, what?”

“I want this.”

Stone nodded tightly. “Keep your eyes on me.

And strip from the waist down.”

Chapter Three

Be careful what you wish for. Hadn’t she used

that as a motto her entire life?

Well, here she was. Face-to-face with a dream

coming true. And she found it terrifying as hell.

Two gorgeous men and her in the same room.

One was on his knees waiting to please her. And the
other had her gaze pinned in a dangerous game of
dominance and submission.

Even though she wasn’t sure she was actually

going to go through with it, she reached for the top
snap on her jeans. “I need another drink of wine,” she
said.

He shook his head. “I want you clearheaded.”

“Impossible with the two of you here.” She

smiled; he didn’t smile back. And there was Nate,
fully dressed, on his knees, patient.

“Take off your pants. Now, Fagan,” Stone

commanded.

His eyes mesmerized, his voice hypnotized.

He kept his gaze on her as she followed his

orders.

Usually, she hurried through the undressing

part, and she generally had the lights off. And now
she was stripping in broad daylight, in front of two
men.

She wiggled out of her jeans and then kicked

aside the denim. She had on briefs, a pretty,
feminine pair with little bows at the waist.

“Nice,” Stone said. “Take them off.”

Thankfully, trimming her pubic area was a daily

practice. She started to instinctively cover herself,
but then stopped. Instead, she let her arms dangle
next to her body.

She noticed his eyes darken with approval,

and that helped her swallow her embarrassment.

“Have you ever had your cunt licked while

another man watched? Look at me!”

She shook her head and returned her gaze to

his face. “No,” she said. Her stomach was a massive
knot of nerves. Is this how Nate had felt in the
bathroom, when Stone had snapped orders and then
fucked him ragged?

“Are you turned on right now?”

“I’m too nervous.”

“Do you want to stop?”

Did she?

Did she want to go to her room tonight, toss

and turn and wonder what it might have been like if
she hadn’t been too chicken to seize what she
wanted? “I don’t want to stop.”

“You can stop anytime,” he told her. “And the

loss will always be yours.”

Tendrils of excitement unfurled in her

bloodstream.

“Turn around,” he told her. “Spread your legs,

then grab your ankles.”

Her mouth was dry. He knew exactly what he

was asking. Before Nate tongued her, she’d have to
expose herself to both men.

He didn’t reissue his command. He waited for

her compliance. Knowing it was completely up to her
whether she did or not, she took a deep steadying
breath.

Her turn wasn’t as grateful as she would have

liked it to be, but no one seemed to notice, or care.

She bent over and grabbed her ankles. Her

long auburn hair hung down, all but brushing the tiled
floor. Kayla closed her eyes, unable to believe she
was doing this.

“Spread your labia for us,” Stone said in a tone

that flowed with silken sensuality.

Funny, in that moment, now that the

embarrassment was fading, she wanted to do what
he said. She wanted the experience.

Was there anything more intimate?

Within moments, she was opened wide.

Exposed. Vulnerable.

“Beautiful.”

That came from Nate. And from this upside-

down position, she had a good view of his knees.

“You said you weren’t aroused,” Stone said,

and she heard humor laced through his tone.

“I wasn’t. But I’m getting there.”

“Davidson, figure out what she likes,” Stone

said to Nate.

She understood a lot more about dominance

and submission in that moment. Nate didn’t hesitate
as he moved in, settling his hands on her thighs.

She quivered.

And she remembered the way Nate had

dropped to his knees without protest when Stone

told him to.

It really didn’t matter if he liked to eat pussy or

not. He would do it regardless, because Stone was
the Alpha. His Alpha.

She had a lot to learn.

“Keep your pussy lips spread for me,” Nate

said.

Two of them. Two men telling her what to do.

Two of them showing approval and demanding her
compliance.

She was delirious with excitement.

“You’re wet,” Stone said as he watched Nate

stroke her cunt.

“Lick me!”

He did.

He swept his tongue from back to front, starting

at her ass, crossing her vagina, and then up her clit.

Her knees nearly buckled.

“Grab your ankles again,” Stone said. Then to

Nate, he added, “I think she liked that.”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes, I liked that.”

“Do not come,” Stone said, “until I give you

permission.”

“What?” She was gasping, wiggling, wanting

more.

“My game. My rules. You want to play, or do

you want to stop?”

Nate licked her. Her clit was throbbing, and the

first waves of an orgasm were uncoiling deep inside
her.

She moved her hips just a little, silently asking

Nate for more.

“Kayla?”

Nate stopped entirely.

She pushed herself upright as quickly as she

could and spun around to face both of them.
Bastards! “Damn it!” She glared directly at Stone,
sparing him none of her wrath. “Damn you.”

Like the lord and master of the manor, he

folded his arms across his chest. His blue eyes
blazed with intensity. “You say you want to be tied to
the cross, and that requires total trust. It also requires
your cooperation. If you’re not going to cooperate
now, how can I trust you to later?”

She scowled, feeling at a disadvantage. She

was half naked in front of two sexy, sexy men, they
were both fully dressed, and her clit was throbbing in
an insistent demand.

“What’s it to be?” he asked.

“You get to control my…” She nearly sputtered.

“My orgasms?”

“Only if you want to play with me.”

“And me,” Nate said.

“You two are impossible.”

“And

you

are

bad-tempered.

Probably

because you’re sexually frustrated.”

“There is that.”

“And you’re right. It is about turning over

control. And learning to control your own reactions to
prolong the pleasure. Quit fighting yourself. Quit
fighting us.”

Quit fighting him.

This was really what she wanted.

Kayla turned around and bent at the waist,

spread her legs obediently and exposed her pussy
like Stone expected.

“Good girl.”

“Good girl.”

She waited and waited. When she nearly gave

up hope, Stone finally broke the silence, saying,
“Continue.”

Nate moved in; he licked her slowly, as if

savoring her taste. Then he drew her clit into his
mouth and pressed on it with his tongue.

She gasped.

She began undulating, feeling that orgasm nip

at her insides.

“Control yourself,” Stone said.

She wanted him, wanted both of them.

“Breathe,” he coached her. “In and out.”

She wondered if that would work when she had

his cock in her mouth and he was ready to come?
She couldn’t wait to pull away and suggest he
restrain himself.

She struggled to keep her breath even, and it

became more and more difficult as Nate sucked on
her, nibbled on her, licked her.

“Focus somewhere else,” Stone said.

Then she felt Nate insert a finger into her

pussy. She cried out. “I need…”

In and out. He simulated the sex act, and she

was nearly undone, knowing that Wolf Stone, her
commander, was not only watching, he was
orchestrating the entire scene.

“Please,” she said.

“A few more seconds.”

She couldn’t. No way. She couldn’t last past

her next breath. She’d never been this turned on, this
wet. She gasped, she panted. She could no longer
think.

“Now.”

Ruthlessly, Nate shoved a second finger in her.

She screamed.

Her pussy clenched around his fingers.

She shattered.

The orgasm was more intense than anything

she’d ever experienced. She could no longer
support her own weight.

Stone was there, to catch her, to help her, to

hold her upright.

She collapsed into his arms.

“Milk?” he asked.

Kayla frowned. “Milk?” she repeated.

“Guess she wasn’t making grocery lists,” Nate

said.

When Stone captured her mouth in a deep,

demanding kiss, she surrendered completely.

“Oh, oh,” she said, lacing her hands around his

neck.

He raised a brow. “Hmm?”

“I want more.”

“Insatiable wench,” Nate said.

They had no idea…

Chapter Four

“Pizza?” Stone asked.

“I’m ravenous,” Kayla said. “I think we still have

a feta cheese and sun dried tomato one in the
freezer.”

“Nothing with pepperoni?”

“We ate those first. And I think Mrs. Johnson

would prefer we ate some fruits and veggies.”

“A man needs meat,” Stone said. “I’m going to

fire her.”

“You’re both heathens.” Nate shuddered, then

opened the refrigerator door. “Kayla, set the table
and pour some more wine. Stone, go do whatever it
is you do in your Batcave, and I’ll cook something
decent.”

“I suppose this makes you think you’re

staying?” Stone asked.

“Unequivocally.”

“You weren’t invited,” Stone reminded him.

“Didn’t expect to be.”

“You could still leave.”

“I could. Then you’d have frozen pizza for

dinner.”

“Again,” Kayla supplied.

“You can stay through dinner.”

“Big of you.”

What the hell was it between the two of them?

Obviously they’d had some sort of relationship in the
past. Stone was a man of few, but sincere words, so
she didn’t think he’d been making casual
conversation when he said he hadn’t wanted Nate
there. And he

had left him out in the weather…

“Something decent” turned out to be

magnificent.

As Nate defrosted steaks, he threw together a

salad, and warmed a loaf of French bread.

Kayla happily helped, despite her appalling

lack of domestic skills. She knew how to microwave,
fry eggs in a pile of bacon grease, brew coffee in a
percolator over a campfire, hotwire a 1970s car with
her eyes closed ,wasn’t squeamish about field
dressing an elk, could bandage up someone good
enough to get them to an extraction point, but
blending

homemade

salad

dressing

was

somewhere out of reach.

“This kitchen is wasted on Stone,” Nate

lamented, turning on the stove’s indoor grill feature.
He adjusted the gas jets until the flames suited him.

“He had the house built,” she reminded him.

“Because the designer convinced him it would

have a higher resale value with a fabulous kitchen.”

“And just how is it that someone who’s highly

trained in search and rescue knows how to prepare
a gourmet meal out of a handful of ingredients?”

“Just because I can rappel from a helicopter to

save your butt doesn’t mean I don’t have taste buds.
And I’m good at improvisation, no matter the
situation.” He popped a radish in his mouth. “Thank
God someone stocks his refrigerator.”

Mrs. Johnson was amazing. She came in once

a week, brought fresh food, and fussed over Stone,
well, as much as he’d let anyone fuss over him.
Kayla’s jaw had dropped when the older woman had
actually pinched his cheek and called him Wolfie.

“Don’t you dare try it,” he’d warned Kayla.

Still, despite the woman’s earnest efforts,

Kayla and Stone had made do with cereal for
breakfast, sandwiches for lunch, and something
frozen for dinner. She considered her sandwich
gourmet when it had fancy mustard on it.

She decided on the second glass of wine, after

all. One was usually her limit. But it had been an odd
day. Wasn’t often, or ever, that one man licked her
from front to back while another watched and gave
instructions.

Had it really happened?

Because the wine loosened her a bit, she was

emboldened. “What happened earlier,” she said. “I
enjoyed that.” She looked down.

“Stone has that effect on people.”

“I wasn’t talking about him. You’re a very sexy

guy, Nate Davidson.”

He shook the colander to drain the lettuce.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” He grinned. Her
insides melted a bit. “I liked your reactions. I think
maybe I’ve been missing out, not eating you out
before now.”

What was happening here?

That she was attracted to Stone, the enigmatic

leader, wasn’t a surprise. But that she was getting
sideways over two men…?

Nate put the steaks on the grill, searing the

meat. A few minutes later, Stone joined them. He
picked up a glass of wine.

“Everything okay in the Batcave?” Nate asked.

“No more of my teammates have been caught

trespassing, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“If you’d have opened the gate, we wouldn’t

have had to get a helicopter.”

“Expensive ride,” Stone said.

“And you’re worth every penny,” she said.

“How do you like your steak?” Nate asked.

“Rare?”

“Is there any other way?”

“A man after my heart,” Nate said.

“I have no interest in your heart, Davidson.”

Nate turned and grinned. “I had hoped

something else was more interesting.”

She realized she hadn’t yet seen either of them

naked. And this so wasn’t fair. It was like being given
a taste of dessert, then told she couldn’t have the
rest of the cake.

Nate served the food, and they all sat at the

table, Stone silently sat at the head of the table, she
and Nate on either side of him.

An appreciative Stone took a bite of his T-

An appreciative Stone took a bite of his T-

bone. “Maybe you can stay a bit longer.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“So where does that leave Ms. Fagan?” Stone

said, putting down his knife and fork. “Who is here,
apparently, under false pretenses?”

The food suddenly tasted like ash in her mouth.

“I’m trained to help with your physical therapy.”

So it wasn’t, exactly, false pretenses.

“And what else?”

“I can shoot.”

“Don’t let her fool you. She’s one of Hawkeye’s

best. He wouldn’t send anyone less. We all know it.”

“How’d you get involved?”

“Long story,” she said.

“We’ve got time,” Stone said, his tone offering

no quarter. She was in his home, and in his eyes,
she’d lied her way in.

She’d barely been tolerated when he thought

she was a physical therapist. Now that he knew she
was assigned to protection…? She shifted. “Look, I -
-”

“You don’t have to tell us anything,” Nate said.

“After Los Angeles, you made a believer out of me.”

Stone continued to sit there and regard her.

“I was married at nineteen,” she said finally,

reluctantly. “And my husband got caught in a drug
deal gone bad.” She’d told few people the story. And
when she did, it was without the gut-wrenching
devastation that led to her own downward spiral, until
a good friend and cop pointed her toward Hawkeye.

She twirled her wineglass between her palms.

“Turned out he was dealing, and I didn’t know it. I’d
known he had a problem, but he said it was in the
past. I believed him when he said he was clean.
Tony. He was an older guy. He was twenty-two.”

“Was?” Stone asked, missing nothing.

“He died of multiple gunshot wounds.”

“That’s harsh,” Nate said.

She attempted a small smile. “And I decided to

help clean up the streets.”

“Why not law enforcement?” Nate asked.

“Hawkeye is a bigger believer in second

chances than the Chicago PD.” Let them read
between the lines. She was no innocent. But she
was no longer defined by her past sins.

“So, Davidson, you trespassed to get in.”

He shrugged.

Then Stone looked at her. “And you lied.”

She squirmed.

“Tell me, do I look like I need a babysitter?”

Nate said nothing. He only took another drink

of wine, leaving her to flounder.

“Your range of motion with your shooting arm

isn’t what it could be, what it should be,” she said.

He raised a brow. “I had no trouble subduing

Davidson.”

“Because Nate isn’t hell-bent on killing you,”

she fired back. “If the threat against you wasn’t
credible, Stone, none of us would waste our time.”

Nate, the coward, just sat there.

Her anger flared. Stone knew what they did.

More than anyone, he understood what it meant to
go up against Rivera. The man ran a powerful
cocaine drug cartel in northwest Mexico, a narco-
gang. They specialized in assassinating cops and
other gang members. The body count for cops was
at two dozen and counting. If it hadn’t been for Stone,
Fernando Garcia’s daughter would have been dead,

too.

Three years ago, Rivera had almost been

brought to trial. When the prosecution’s star witness
ended up dead, his head in a different Dumpster
than his bullet-riddled body, the case had been
dismissed.

“You’re not stupid, Wolf. So stop acting as if

you are.” She took a breath and struggled for control
over her temper. “What were you telling me earlier?
About trust? About honesty? If you weren’t so
goddamn stubborn, you’d work with us, not against
us. You’d cooperate and give us information and,
who would have thought it, share intel with Hawkeye.
A lot of people are putting their butts on the line for
you, you…you…ungrateful bastard.” There. She’d
said it. She pushed back from the table. “Thanks for
the food, Nate.”

“Sit down,” Stone said, his voice like a

whiplash.

“With all due respect,” which she didn’t mean,

she said, “screw you,” which she did mean. “I’m here
because I have a job to do. And I really, really
believed that getting you healthy and keeping you
alive was a good thing so you could heal quicker and
get back to work.” And because she had, or
because she used to have, a great big crush on
Stone. “Turns out I really am still naive.”

* * * * *

“She’s right, you know. Trust is a two-way

street.”

“Not from you, too,” Stone said. What the hell

did a man have to do to get some peace and quiet
in his own house? All he had wanted was to be left
alone, which was why he was on eight hundred acres
of hostile Rocky Mountain wilderness, surrounded by
barbed wire and protected with the finest electronic
security system known to man.

He hadn’t sent out a single invitation to his

house. In fact, only a handful of people on the planet
even knew where he lived.

Getting himself shot had been careless, stupid.

But he’d managed to carry five-year-old Mandy
Garcia to safety before passing out.

Too bad that the shot he’d taken, fired from his

trusty Sig, hadn’t permanently taken out Carlos
Rivera. So now the cockroach was pissed. As if
Stone hadn’t had bad guys pissed at him before. “I
can handle Rivera.”

“If you were fully functional, you could. And the

fully functional part would happen faster if you’d quit
being so damn stubborn.” Nate took a big drink of
water. “Self-reliance has its advantages,” Nate said,
a little more quietly. “But working as a team does,
too.”

too.”

“While you’re here, you’re not protecting

people who really need it.”

“Now that Rivera has seen your face,

you’re the

one who really needs it.”

“Davidson --”

“He’s off Hawkeye’s radar,” Nate said. “He

hasn’t been seen in two days.”

Stone raised a brow.

“If you had been in contact with headquarters,

you’d have known that. Teamwork,” Nate said.
“We’ve got people watching Mandy Garcia and her
aunt. And we want you healthy enough to be out
there.” He shoved away from the table, his chair
scooting along the polished hardwood floor. “Now I
think you owe Ms. Fagan an apology.”

“An apology?”

“Yeah. Like where you say you’re sorry. And

you try to make it up to her.”

“She’s here under false pretenses.”

“She’s here because Hawkeye sent her.

You’ve been sent plenty of places where people
needed you but didn’t want you.” He grabbed an
empty platter. “And she does have a delicious cunt.”

The door leading into the kitchen swung shut

behind Nate.

Well.

Fuck.

In the distance, a clock ticked off the seconds.

Wind still howled and battered the house. If it were a
month later, it wouldn’t be rain, it’d be snow.

Davidson was right on most scores.

Trust

was a two-way street.

Maybe he’d get better if he’d stop being

stubborn.

No man was better alone than with a team.

And Fagan did have a nice cunt.

Just thinking of her made his cock hard.

She’d been under his roof for several days,

and he’d wanted her since the first time he’d set
eyes on her, with her prim and proper button-down
blouse, pulled back hair, and lips with only the barest
hint of gloss. Her black slacks had been a bit tight,
and when she’d bent to pick something up, they’d
stretched taut. He’d imagined his hands on her hips,
imprisoning her while he filled her full of his cock.

And then Davidson had shown up, as well.

Two sexy specimens, both willing to do his

bidding.

Life, he supposed, could be a whole lot worse.

He massaged the ache in his leg. It had started

with his knee, but it had now traveled up his thigh. No
matter what he tried to tell everyone, including
himself, he wasn’t one hundred percent operational.
He’d navigated the mountain earlier, but not with the
sure-footedness he normally did. He’d slipped on a
wet rock, and when he caught himself, raw pain had
shot through him, instantly cramping the muscle.
He’d swallowed three or four ibuprofen when he got
back, not that he’d admit it to Davidson or Kayla.

He went into the great room to find her there,

stoking the fire. “Davidson says I should apologize.”

She looked up from where she was crouched.

“What do you think?”

“That I should spank your ass for your

dishonesty.”

Her mouth formed a shocked, but delectable

O. “I think I’d prefer the apology.”

He laughed. “I didn’t ask what you wanted.” He

took a couple of steps toward her. “And if you were
honest, you’d admit that you’d really prefer the
spanking.”

“I…” She stood. “Hmm…”

“You’ve had apologies. But you’ve probably

never had a spanking.”

“You’re right.”

She was completely appealing in her

contradictions. She wanted him to think she was
prim and proper, but prim and proper ladies didn’t
look him in the eye and tell him to screw off. They
didn’t put on a slicker and head out into the Rocky
Mountain wilderness to find a comrade. “And until
this afternoon, you’d never dropped your pants in the
kitchen and had one man tongue you to orgasm
while another watched.”

“Well, there is that.”

“It’s up to you,” he said.

“Where, theoretically, would this spanking

happen?”

“Right here.” He rolled up the sleeves of his

denim shirt. “Right now.” He watched emotions play
across her face. A frown of concern. Then a little
twist of her lips as she contemplated his offer.

“Over my clothes?”

“I’ve already seen your naked butt.”

She looked up at him. She blinked a couple of

times, and, in the reflection of the firelight, her green
eyes had flecks of copper. “So,” she said, “this
spanking. It would be with your hand?”

She was reading him correctly, he knew. The

spanking wasn’t an end; it was the doorway to
exploring her fantasies. So, the only question was,
did she have the guts to really go for it?

Hawkeye had hired her, well, Hawkeye’s HR

department had. But she’d gotten through their
screening processes and been interviewed by at
least half a dozen people, Ms. Inamorata, Hawkeye’s
right-hand person. She’d never have been assigned
to sneak into his place with fake credentials if she
hadn’t, at some point, come to the man’s attention.
Hawkeye was a meddler, especially in Stone’s life.

“We can work up to a belt later. And a flogger.

If you think you can handle it.”

“Was that a challenge?”

He damn near grinned.

“How many?” she asked, unbuttoning that top

button of her jeans once again. “Spanks?”

“Two dozen.”

Her hand froze. “Two

dozen?”

“Unless you beg me to keep going.”

“Close your mouth,” Nate said from the

doorway. He was rubbing lotion into his hands, and
he joined them in the great room. “If you ever have
any hope of getting to play on his cross, you have to
start somewhere.”

“I didn’t apologize,” Stone said.

“Spanking’s much better,” Nate agreed.

“In that case, you’re next.”

“I’ll be first.”

In the fireplace, a log popped and hissed.

“You mean… You’re not just bisexual, but you

like to be spanked?”

“I told you to stop letting your mouth fall open

like that,” Nate said to her. He walked over and put
his forefinger beneath her chin and pushed up.
“Submissive,” he said. “I’m a sub.”

Stone enjoyed the interplay between the two of

them, and he loved seeing the apparently prim and
proper Ms. Fagan shocked to her toes. He hoped
she would be curious enough to really explore her
own fantasies.

The idea of having two subs to play with… He

adjusted his jeans to make room for his hardening
cock.

“We probably shouldn’t let Kayla watch, if I’m

first. We’ll scare her.”

“You’ve got a hard ass,” Stone agreed. “And

you’ll be starting with something a lot more
substantial than my hand.”

“I want to watch,” she said stubbornly.

That was a start.

Stone nodded. “Downstairs. Both of you.”

Chapter Five

Kayla couldn’t believe this.

Her mouth was dry, and her palms were damp.

She was going to watch Stone beat Nate. And she
couldn’t be more turned on.

Stone pushed open the door to his secret room

and indicated she should precede them in.

Now that she was inside, knowing she’d be

spanked, made everything so much more real, so
much more threatening.

She would have waited for instructions, but

Nate didn’t. He seemed eager to please, happy to
be on with it.

He pulled the T-shirt over his head and folded

it.

Oh, God, was he a hunk and a half. He

obviously worked out, and his muscles were well-
defined and honed. She’d never had a lover as sexy
as him.

His chest was bare, and he had little hair under

his arms. All he needed was some oil smeared on
him and he’d be good for a magazine shoot. Well,
apart from the jagged scar along his ribcage. But

that only made him more appealing in her books.
Too much perfection wasn’t a good thing.

She stole a glance at Stone.

He’d crossed to the far wall, and he was taking

down some sort of evil-looking leather implement.

He was actually going to use that on Nate?

She needed to sit down.

There was a bench, of sorts, in the corner. It

looked a bit like the weight bench she trained on at
the gym. And she sat there. Neither man seemed to
notice her.

He put the torture device back. She wondered

if he’d decided on something else.

Nate dropped his pants -- seemed he rarely

wore shoes -- and he had nothing underneath. His
pubic hair was trimmed, and his cock was partially
aroused. He folded his borrowed jeans and placed
them on top of the T-shirt.

“You sure you’re up for this?” Stone asked.

In response, Nate dropped to his knees.

Was she expected to behave like that? Fat

chance. There was a reason she hadn’t joined the
military after college, a reason she hadn’t finished

the police academy. She had little patience for chain
of command, even less for fawning.

Still, seeing strong, capable Nate on his knees

did something funny to her insides.

Tension seemed to settle over the room, and

she could suddenly hear her heart beating in her
ears.

Stone rolled up his sleeves, exposing his

tanned forearms. “The horse,” he commanded.

Nate crawled there.

The piece of equipment resembled a

gymnast’s pommel horse, with a few modifications.
There were several straps to secure a person’s
ankles and more straps to secure wrists.

Nate draped himself over the top, and Stone

asked, “Would you like to be tied?”

“The choice is yours.”

Oh, she so was not going to be good at this.

“Wrists only,” Stone said.

Nate moved instantly, spreading his arms

wide.

“Fagan, fasten his left wrist.”

She sat there for a second, startled, as if

expecting some other Kayla to respond.

Finally, she hurried over, and she buckled the

thick strap over his wrist.

“Give me a safe word,” Stone said.

“Yellow.”

“Yellow?” Stone repeated.

“Like for a coward,” Kayla said.

“I won’t be using it,” Nate said.

“Spread your legs a couple more inches.”

Her mouth was dry. Stone was a harsh Dom.

But Nate didn’t protest. He just maneuvered until
Stone told him to stop.

Stone adjusted the horse a little, and Nate

grunted. He was forced onto his toes, and his body
was stretched a little more uncomfortably.

His cock wasn’t as thick as it had been, she

noticed.

Stone crouched, and she saw that the motion

was a little slow, a little awkward because of his
injury. Fool had probably hurt himself more when
he’d been on the mountainside.

He took Nate’s balls in his palm, as if weighing

them.

Nate softly moaned.

“Would you like a gag?”

“Only if it pleases you. Sorry for the outburst.”

Stone seemed to pull down a bit, and Nate

again moaned. Since Stone didn’t reprimand him,
she guessed Stone knew exactly how much Nate
was hurting.

“Repeat your safe word,” he said.

She wondered if this was a usual part of the

way he played with his…subs. He seemed very
deliberate, completely controlled.

Since he had a room completely devoted to

this, she realized dominance and submission was
an integral part of Wolf’s personality. Anyone getting
involved with him would not only have to accept that,
they’d probably have to participate, and maybe on a
regular basis, more than just an occasional
diversion.

She swallowed deeply, wondering what she’d

gotten herself into, and more, wondering why she
didn’t want out…

“I’m waiting,” Stone said.

“Yellow,” Nate whispered.

“Would you like to use it?”

Nate shook his head.

“I’m

going

to

squeeze

your

testicles,

Davidson.”

He got no response.

“And then I’m going to roll them between my

palms. I will be deliberate. But I won’t go easy on
you.”

“Yes,” he said.

“You’ll feel the pain all the way up in your

abdomen.”

She was nervous on Nate’s behalf. “Uh…”

“He can stop the play at anytime,” Stone told

her. “What do you want me to do, Davidson?”

“Tell Fagan to mind her own business.”

Well.

He was actually

enjoying this?

She returned to the bench and sat down.

Probably better than her knees collapsing and

dropping her on her ass.

“It’s called CBT for short,” Stone said. “Cock

and ball torture. It’s nothing we haven’t explored
before. A lot of male subs like it. And having him
submit to it pleases me. I pulled down first, to get his
testicles taut in the bottom of the sac.”

“I think I’m glad I don’t have balls.”

He looked over his shoulder and smiled. It did

nothing to reassure her and everything to unleash a
spike of adrenaline-laced fear down her insides.

“I know all about nipple and tit torture, too,” he

told her.

Her breasts throbbed. “You know about…?”

She trailed off. Oh, God. A coil of fear mixed with
unholy fascination unfurled deep inside her.

“All about it.” He met her gaze.

The lines of his face were set in an implacable

mask.

“And you’re going to learn all about it, too.”

Her stomach turned a frightening flip-flop.

“Your nipples will be clamped. What do you

say, Davidson? Will she look better in clover clamps
or alligator ones?”

Her pussy throbbed.

“Clovers,” Nate said.

“You’re right,” Wolf agreed. “They can provide

more pressure.” Then he seemed to totally forget
about her, even though she was left reeling. She
couldn’t imagine being tied up, her nipples
squeezed by torturous clamps. And yet… Yet she
watched him so skillfully master Nate. There was
pain, but he liked it. She’d be asked for a safe word,
too. Nothing would happen that she refused to
participate in. Despite her apprehension, she knew
she wouldn’t refuse.

She twisted her hands together. Then she

realized she was betraying her nerves and kept still.

She saw him gently roll Nate’s balls in his palm.

Nate groaned.

“Back and forth,” Stone said, his voice smooth,

almost hypnotic. “You’re doing well. You’re pleasing
me.”

“Yes,” Nate, said, the word hissed through

clenched teeth.

“Keep your legs parted. Unless you’d like me

to tie you?”

Nate struggled back into position.

“Is it too much?”

Nate shook his head.

“Then ask me for a little more pressure.”

She crossed her legs in mute sympathy.

“I…”

“Ask me,” Stone said softly.

“More. Make it hurt more.”

“That’s a boy.”

She saw Stone exert a bit more pressure.

There was nothing rough or jerky in his motions.
Everything was precise. He was in control. No anger,
just restrained passion.

Nate rose onto his toes.

“More?”

“N…No.”

“Just five more.”

She saw Stone back off the tension, even as

he rolled Nate’s balls in between his palms, gently,
reverently, with great care.

Nate’s ragged breathing returned to normal

after a few deep, gulps. “Thank you,” he said.

“I wondered where your manners were.”

“He has to thank you?” She stood and rubbed

her damp palms on her thighs. She couldn’t believe
she’d just seen that.

“And so will you, Ms. Fagan.”

Not likely.

He crossed in front of the horse and stroked

Nate’s hair. The tenderness surprised her. She
thought of Wolf Stone as a loner, incapable of
compassion for other people. She’d seen him kiss
Nate earlier in the kitchen. There hadn’t been
anything tender in that dominant act. But right now,
there was nothing cold about the way he treated
Nate. He held Nate’s head and gently kissed his
forehead.

In his own way, he clearly loved Nate.

Seeing this side of Wolf made her yearn for

love, too -- a love she hadn’t realized she was
missing in her life. What would it be like to have
someone make you the total center of their attention,
to push you to your limits, give you exactly what you
wanted, then cradle you tenderly?

“Man,” Nate said. “Best I’ve ever had.”

“Not done with you.”

“Did Fagan run away yet?”

“I think her shoes are glued to the floor.”

“Beat me” Nate implored.

“Choose your pain.”

“You had a tawse in your hand.”

“Not sure how solid the beating will be with the

injury to my arm.”

“Fagan could deliver it.”

“No! No freaking way!”

“Kidding,” Nate said.

“I’m sure I can hit harder than her, even with my

damaged biceps. No offense.”

“The two of you are out of your minds.”

“You’re welcome to leave,” Stone said.

But she didn’t.

Couldn’t. She was enthralled.

Despite the fact she was a bit freaked out, nothing
happened that Nate hadn’t wanted.

She’d hung around Hawkeye teammates

enough to know that they did everything to the edge.
Drinking. Risk-taking. Why would sex be any
different? None of them knew how much time they
had together. Why save something for later?

“I don’t want to accidentally catch your balls. I

want you on the cross.”

“Yes, boss.”

She watched as Stone unfastened and then

tenderly rubbed Nate’s wrists. and rubbed his
ankles.

“Fagan, grab him a bottle of water from the

fridge.”

She looked around until she found a small

refrigerator tucked into the corner. It was stocked
with water and some sports drinks.

“Most Doms aren’t as thoughtful as Stone,”

Nate said as Kayla opened the bottle and handed it
to him.

He’d just had his balls squeezed in Stone’s

hands and Stone was

thoughtful?

He took a couple sips of water and handed it

back.

“When you’re ready,” Stone said patiently, as if

he had all the time in the world.

Nate nodded, as if to say he’d gotten his

bearings back.

On his own, he moved to the cross, faced it,

spread his legs, then his arms.

“You get his legs,” Stone said to her Kayla. “I’ll

get his wrists.”

It felt slightly disloyal to Nate to tie him up, but

she’d already helped secure him to the cross. In
seconds, she had fastened both of his legs to the
bottom of the X.

She noticed that his flaccid cock was starting

to stir. It had become totally limp while Stone
squeezed his balls, but there didn’t appear to be any
lasting damage.

She needed to talk to both men when this was

over. In the reading she’d done, and in talking with a
friend who practiced S&M, she had never realized all
this ceremony and negotiation was involved. Every
moment seemed to set the stage, enhance the
experience. She had no doubt this was as much
about Nate’s pleasure as Wolf’s, maybe even more.
Kayla couldn’t help but want to experience it for
herself, even though the very idea terrified her. An
odd mix, but maybe not that different from actually
joining Hawkeye. There was danger there, too, and a
heady dose of adrenaline that kept her coming back.

“I’ll give you five as a warm up,” Stone said.

“Before the twelve for disobeying an order.”

Nate nodded. “Thank you.”

“Want to join in?” Stone asked her, meeting her

gaze. “Jack Davidson off during his beating.”

“I might die,” Nate said.

“That’d be convenient, since you’ll already be in

heaven,” Stone fired back. “Fagan?”

Kayla licked her lips. Dry mouth seemed to

have become an occupational hazard.

“Do not touch him while I deliver the first five.”

Her heart thumped as if an anvil were inside.

“Then, between blows, keep your eye on me. I’ll

nod when you’re to begin and shake my head when
you’re to stop. And even if this naughty baggage
begs you to keep going, you’re on my instructions.”

“Nate?” she asked.

“Nothing I’d rather have than your hand on my

cock.”

Instinctively she reached up.

“Fagan!” Stone snapped.

She dropped her hand. “I was just --”

“Don’t.”

“Spoilsport,” Nate complained.

“Five,” Stone said. “For the warm up.”

Warm up? Warm up? She couldn’t have taken

a beating like that without passing out.

Stone drew back and delivered five blows with

the tawse, and red exploded all over Nate’s rear.

Still, he hadn’t done anything so much as groan

a bit.

Stone put on a pair of leather gloves and

vigorously rubbed Nate’s hindquarters. His cock
jumped; his body shuddered.

“Boss? I’m going to disobey every single order

from here on out.”

Stone captured Kayla’s gaze, and she moved

close to the cross.

He pulled back his hand and caught Nate

under his right cheek.

She reached for his cock, only to have Stone

shake his head. She frowned. But just as quickly, he
delivered a second smack on Nate’s left buttock.

She closed her hand around Nate’s cock. It

hardened slightly.

“The boy likes it rough,” Stone said.

She tightened her grip and slid her hand all the

way up his cock, then down. Stone let the
ministration go on for a few seconds before shaking
his head.

Abruptly, she released her grip.

Nick sagged in his bonds.

His cock, though, stayed hard.

Without giving Nick time to recover, Stone

delivered the next three strokes, then nodded at her.

Understanding more now, she first licked her

hand, then grasped him firmly and squeezed hard.

Stone nodded approvingly.

Nick struggled to find a satisfying rhythm, and

when he did, Stone said, “Stop.”

“Maybe I won’t be disobedient,” Nick muttered.

“Is that a drop of precum on his cockhead?”

Stone asked.

She nodded.

Stone himself moved in front of Nate and

sucked his cock into his mouth.

Nate’s motions were desperate. “I swear I’ll be

more obedient, boss.”

Pulling away, Stone laughed. “I’ll bet you will.”

“Just please, finish me off.”

But Stone would have none of it.

He continued his punishment, and after the next

smack made him jerk his hips forward, she stroked
him hard.

His cock was turgid, demanding. On her own,

she would have never stopped. She would have
stroked and squeezed until her man ejaculated.

“Good news, Davidson. You’re halfway there.”

She pulled away.

A strangled word was ripped from Nate’s

throat.

“You didn’t just swear, did you?”

Frantically, he shook his head.

“Good,” Stone said. His seventh, eighth, and

ninth spanks were delivered flat on, across the

fleshiest part of his buttocks. Stone didn’t give Nate
any quarter. “Give him half a dozen long, slow
strokes, will you, Fagan?”

This was a complete turnaround from the

frantic way she’d been jacking him off.

He didn’t seem to appreciate her efforts.

He kept whispering, “More, more, harder.”

But she had her orders from Stone. He was the

one with the tawse.

“Tell Ms. Fagan thank you.”

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Three to go.” He gave one stripe from the

bottom, angled up. Another with a different sound,
harder, more forceful. “Don’t let him ejaculate,” Stone
said to her.

How was she supposed to prevent that?

She squeezed hard.

She kept her gaze focused on Nate. His eyes

were closed, and his breathing was ragged, then,
subtly, his breathing changed. He gyrated his hips,
seeking a little more pressure. She immediately
released her grip.

“Good girl,” Stone approved.

That’s how, she supposed.

His last spank was deliberately hard. Nate

sagged forward in his bondage.

“Nicely taken,” Stone said. He set about

releasing the buckles that fastened Nate to the
cross.

“Can I finish him off?” Kayla asked. And she

wasn’t exactly sure who she was asking. Nate? Or
was Stone still in charge?

“Nate?” Stone said.

“Somebody,” he said. “Please.”

Poor man sounded exhausted and frustrated.

Of course, she had no idea what had gone on
between the two of them earlier, in Stone’s
bedroom.

She looked again at Stone. He nodded.

This time, she knelt in front of him and took him

in her mouth.

“I’m going to last maybe thirty seconds,” he

said.

He didn’t make it that long, not even half that

long. And that gave her a feeling of power. She was
happy to have been part of their scene.

He buried his hands in her hair, holding her

head steady while he pounded into her. He pulled
back, but she followed, taking all of his ejaculate in
her mouth, swallowing deeply.

“You’re good at that,” he said, several seconds

later.

“Wasn’t difficult,” she said, pressing the back

of her hand to her mouth. She was on sensory
overload. She could barely begin to comprehend
everything that had happened.

She wasn’t a prude, and she had the Internet.

She’d seen pictures, even snippets of movies with a
BDSM theme. But to be here, in the middle of it, with
two gorgeous hunks who had no trouble at all
expressing their desires and asking for what they
wanted. They were obviously experienced, and she
couldn’t have been any more of a novice.

“What do you think, Fagan?” Stone asked,

regarding her contemplatively. “Is it your turn?”

Chapter Six

Kayla blushed like she had earlier, when he’d

teased her about her face matching the color of her
merlot. She twisted her hands in front of her. Then,
aware of his gaze, she stopped, as if afraid of
betraying too much emotion. “I think I…we…need to
talk first.”

Stone nodded; he’d expected her to have

questions. In fact, he’d be a little worried about her if
she had just jumped in with both feet. Hawkeye
recruits were resourceful and smart. They weren’t
afraid of danger, but there was no need to rush in
without gathering all the information possible.

As much as he’d been watching Davidson,

he’d also had his eye on Fagan. She was nervous,
but intrigued. She wanted to experiment, but was
afraid of the consequences.

Plenty of people liked their relationships with a

side of spanking or spiced with a few ropes or
handcuffs. He’d blazed past that years ago. For him,
BDSM was a lifestyle choice, not an occasional
treat, like dessert after dinner. He respected those
who made a different decision, but the men and
women he spent time with needed to know this was
an essential part of who he was, not something that
could be ignored.

“I’ll meet you both upstairs,” she said, and she

hurried away.

“I think we scared her,” Nate said, dropping the

towel he’d used to wipe his face.

“I think she’s scared of her own reactions and

the fact she wants to try it.”

“She has the hots for you.”

Stone arched a brow.

“Not that she wants you to spank her, fuck her,

and send her back to her bed alone. She wants
more.”

“Fagan?”

“For someone who is so observant, you miss a

lot.” He picked up the used towel and dumped it in
the hamper.

“Fagan’s a professional.”

Nate fastened his borrowed jeans and pulled

the T-shirt over his head. He’d worked up a sweat,
and now his body temperature had to be cooling.
The basement was several degrees chillier than the
upstairs, and Stone generally kept it that way when
engaging in a scene. His sub needed a warm
shower, another warm shower, preferably in the
master bathroom.

“Fagan’s a woman,” Davidson contradicted.

“Women want to be loved and held.” He grinned a
quick grin. “And some of them even want to be
spanked.”

“And you?”

His features sobered up. “I got over being a

fool for you last year.” Quietly he added, “At least
that’s what I told myself.”

“Then why are you here?”

Davidson looked away, pretending to be

interested in the zipper of his jeans.

“Davidson?”

“Look.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I

said I got over being a fool for you.” He dragged in a
shaky breath, trying to settle his nerves. “That
doesn’t mean I got over you. You’re a damn good
Dom.”

“Thank you.”

“And I’m not stupid. That’s all it is to you,

probably all it will ever be. So I had a little talk with
myself. I moved on with my life. But if things work out
that we can have a scene, then I’m up for it.”

He gave that boyish grin that did funny things to

Stone’s insides.

Then Davidson added, “You can spank my ass

anytime. You can even fuck me or ask me to suck
you off. I’m not into cutting off my nose to spite my
face.”

“And playing with Fagan? We’ve never added

a third.”

“I like Kayla. Having a third changes the

dynamics, and I’m cool with that. I want her to say
yes to us. Who knows? Maybe she and I can
continue to play when you vanish like you always do.”

Stone’s right hand curved into a fist. He hadn’t

realized he was doing it until the tension radiated up
to the healing wound in his arm. Fagan and
Davidson playing without him? Forming a bond that
left him out?

Grabbing the water bottle, Davidson uncapped

it and asked, “But what about you?”

“Me?”

“Doesn’t it get lonely out here all by yourself?”

“I’m hardly ever here.”

“You have a place in paradise you only use

between assignments. And you only take time off
when you’re forced to.” He drained the bottle and

crushed the plastic in his hand. “Seems a shame. If I
had a place like this, I’d like to be here a lot. I’d like
having someone in the kitchen making a mess. I’d
like someone to watch the sun go down over the
Continental Divide, and I’d like someone who
dropped their pants for a good whipping every now
and then. But hey, that’s just me.”

Stone watched him go.

He hadn’t spent much time evaluating his life.

He went to work. He ate. He crashed wherever there
was an available bed. Then he’d get up and repeat
the process.

Part of him had regretted letting Davidson walk

away last year. But they’d both had important
missions, and neither had been willing to
compromise. Davidson had left because Stone
wouldn’t ask him to stay. Stone readjusted the thin
strip of leather holding his hair back. As for him, the
idea of someone leaving after he’d opened his heart
and fallen in love was just too big of a stinking risk.
Fool him once…

He told himself that didn’t make him a coward.

If he were being honest, though, he’d admit the

last year had been the longest, the loneliest of his
life.

He wiped down the playroom so it would be

ready for the next session. He grinned in anticipation

of who the next sub would be. Davidson again? Or
would Fagan decide she wanted to be the one
exposed and vulnerable?

He turned off the light and headed upstairs,

whistling.

Stone took a left turn and checked his office.

Nothing interesting on e-mail. And nothing unusual
recorded on his surveillance equipment. All was
quiet on the Western front.

After uncapping a long-necked bottle of

American brew, he headed for the great room.

Davidson, looking pleased with himself, sat on

the leather couch, sprawled out, his legs stretched
toward the fire. Fagan was sitting on a rug in some
sort of bizarre yoga pose. Didn’t a simple cross-
legged thing work for anyone anymore?

The two of them seemed to have nothing more

important to do than stare at the flames.

The weather had relented. Rain and wind no

longer shook the house. It was peaceful and cozy.

For a minute, maybe two, he allowed himself to

contemplate what it might be like if he didn’t keep
others at a distance, if he had someone to come
home to at the end of a mission, or, trying not to be
an alpha pig, if someone came home to him. What
would it be like with someone to sit on the porch

with? Or hike to the top of a mountain. Or just to talk?

The unaccustomed, unwelcome thoughts made

him restless. “Does it help?” he asked Fagan. “The
yoga?” If it did, maybe he’d take it up.

“Normally.”

“Normally?” Davidson asked.

“But not around you two. Until now, I hadn’t had

many experiences that breathing and stretching
couldn’t help.”

“Told you we freaked her out,” Davidson said.

She unfolded her legs. For a second, it

reminded him of watching a butterfly unfurl its wings.

Then his thought pattern returned.

She was limber. That had to mean good things

for their upcoming play.

He took a seat in the oversized leather chair.

He noticed they’d left the wingback chair vacant for
him. “Ready for your spanking, Fagan?” He was
ready. And this chair was a perfect place to
introduce her to the pleasure of his pain. “Over my
knee. Right here, right now.”

“Yeah. About that…”

“No?”

“Well…” She stood in a lithe movement that

captivated him, made him aware of her femininity.

Men and women were built different, and he

was a connoisseur of both. He took a long drink from
the beer and waited. He noticed that Davidson
seemed just as enraptured.

He’d seen her half naked; now, he wanted to

see her completely nude and surrendered to his
domination.

“I want to play.”

He waited for the rest.

“But, I’m not sure I want to experience the same

type of intensity that you two seem to enjoy.”

“We’ve played together for a long time,”

Davidson said.

She looked at him. “You have?”

“Years,” Stone said.

“Years,” Davidson confirmed. “And he built me

up to this. You wouldn’t be expected to behave the
way I have. He can be gentle. Well, not exactly
gentle, but patient.”

“That didn’t help.”

Davidson grinned.

“I’m not into causing undue pain,” Stone said.

“And I have no interest in spanking someone who
doesn’t want to be spanked. Everything here is safe,
sane, and consensual.”

“Sane?” she asked.

“Depends on your definition of sane, I

suppose.” He smiled. “Does Davidson over there
look any worse for the wear?”

She looked. She shook her head.

“And you played earlier. Anything too edgy

about that for you?”

“It was…” She seemed to struggle for the right

word. “Unimaginable.”

“Are

you any worse for the wear?”

“I’m still horny.”

Her soft-spoken admission made his cock

hard. He waited.

“I just don’t want it to be extreme.”

“You want to stay in control while you’re out of

control.”

control.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sounds ridiculous when

you put it that way.” She laughed, a nervous little
sound.

“We’ll talk it out until you’re comfortable, or until

you say absolutely not.”

“It’s about power exchange,” Davidson said.

“Don’t tell our big, bad Alpha, but we’re the ones
always in control, always in charge.”

“What?” She stood with her back to the fire.

“Davidson was asked for a safe word,” Stone

said.

“Yellow.”

“You will always choose a safe word. If you use

the word, all activity will cease.”

“Nothing will happen,” Davidson said, “unless

you want it to. You can always say no. You can
always walk away. And the Dom has to honor that.
You can set the boundaries. You can negotiate the
terms. And you can do it at any time.” He moved
forward, to the edge of the couch. “Think back. When
I ate your cunt…”

Stone noticed that she blinked a couple of

times. He was enjoying this interplay between his
two subs. Davidson knew he was a sub, had

accepted it, was comfortable with it, liked it. Fagan
would find out soon enough. He was glad to be the
one to initiate her.

“…Stone was watching your every reaction.

Being out of your comfort zone is okay. But freaking
isn’t. He would have stopped. And when he was
squeezing my balls, he was methodical, and he
never stopped thinking about me, looking at me. It’s
heady stuff, Kayla, being at the center of someone’s
attention like that. Your pleasure is the only thing that
matters.”

Stone picked up his beer and took another

drag. Entertaining as hell, this.

“My pleasure is the only thing that matters?”

Clearly, she was confused, and a little intrigued, if
the glint in her green eyes was anything to judge by.

“Who got off downstairs?” Davidson asked.

“You did,” she said.

“And look at him, poor, unfortunate Stone is still

sporting a hard-on.”

Did he have to be so fucking cheery about it?

“Thanks for pointing that out,” Stone said.

“Make no mistake,” Davidson continued, “if you

have any desire to submit or learn about submission,
Stone is the Dom you want.”

Stone leaned forward. “We’ll go slow. I’ll check

in with you a lot. By watching you, I’ll know when
you’re at your limit; I’ll take you right to the edge,
maybe past a place you feel safe, but you’ll never be
taken anywhere you don’t want to go.”

“I…”

He couldn’t help himself.

Desire for this woman with her intense green

eyes and untamed auburn hair drove him to
distraction.

Standing, he crossed to Fagan and closed his

hands around her shoulders. He pulled her up until
she stood facing him, her head tipped back to meet
his gaze.

Then he captured her head and kissed her

long, hard, deep. Nothing punishing, nothing
dominant, just an attracted turned-on male to
attractive female.

She tasted of merlot. A spicy, dry, rich, smooth

fruity taste. She tasted of woman. And then…of
surrender.

His cock hardened even more, insistently,

demandingly.

She moved in closer; there was no doubt she

could feel the effect she had on him. He wondered if
she recognized her power.

She swayed toward him, deepening the kiss.

She took the role of the aggressor, and he let her
lead.

Her tongue went deep into his mouth. And he

was suddenly commiserating with how desperate
Davidson had been to orgasm.

Eventually, she ended the kiss. “Oh. Hmm.

Well.”

“Just for the record,” he said, holding her close,

one hand just above her rear, the other between her
shoulder blades, “I want to have sex with you.
Whether or not that happens is completely your call.”

“Even if…?”

“Even if I never spank your delectable ass.”

“Even if…?”

“Even if you don’t want to submit.”

“I want to be in charge.”

She wanted…? This was different, and a hell of

a turn on. He pulled back on her hair, tipping her
head so she looked him in the eye. “Lead on.”

She wiggled against him. Then she feathered

her hands into his hair. She wasn’t a short woman,
but she had to stand on her tiptoes to drag him
closer. Willingly, he went.

She kissed him. She pushed against him,

grinding her breasts into his chest even as he put his
hand on her ass and pulled her against his erection.

“Hey!”

He was aware of Davidson, but hell, he’d had

his fun.

“I don’t leave you guys out.”

She abruptly ended their kiss.

When Stone got his hands on Davidson, the

man would be volunteering for sentry duty since he
wouldn’t be able to sit on his ass, anyway.

“I think grumpy here needs some attention.”

Stone presumed she was talking about him.

“So do I,” Davidson said.

“You’ve already been the center of attention,”

she pointed out. She still hadn’t released her hold on
him, and Stone was grateful. “And I want a cock to
play with.”

Well. Hell. The woman did know how to ask for

what she wanted.

“Whose?” Davidson asked.

She looked back and forth between them.

Stone was not finding this humorous. He liked being
in charge. Of missions. Of sex.

“Hmm…”

He ground his back teeth together.

“Both.”

“Told you she’d make a great third,” Davidson

said.

Stone didn’t point out that he hadn’t used

exactly those words.

“Where do you want us, honey?”

Honey? Davidson was calling her

honey? Why

the hell had he left the gags in the basement?

“I want Wolf on the bottom so I can straddle

him.”

That got his interest.

“And Nate, I can suck you.”

“Have we gone through enough formalities that

you can get naked now?” Stone asked politely.

She scowled at him. Maybe he hadn’t been as

polite as he’d thought. He should get points for
trying, though.

“Your bed,” she dictated.

“Mine?”

“I just changed the sheets on mine,” she said.

“And since Davidson doesn’t get to spend the night -
-”

“Hey!”

“He doesn’t have a bed. Isn’t that what you

said, Wolf?” she asked sweetly.

Collaborators in crime. Maybe he should make

both of them sleep outside. But he knew he wasn’t
capable of that. He wanted them too damn bad to
even make the threat. “My bed,” he agreed. “Not that
Davidson hasn’t already taken over my bedroom.”

His little wannabe Domme led the way to his

room. Her butt wiggled as she walked. She was
denim and cotton, and everything nice. Not a
dominating bone in her little body. But he figured
she’d coldcock him if he laughed at her. And he’d
deserve it.

She sat on the edge of the bed, and patted the

place next to her. “Sit with me, Nate.”

Davidson? She wanted Davidson to sit with

her?

“You,” she said, pointing at Stone, “strip.”

He remembered that she did know how to

shoot a gun.

Stone had no problems being naked. In fact, he

preferred not to wear clothes. But having two lustful
subs hungrily watching every move… “This is a little
disconcerting.”

She laughed gleefully. Too gleefully, if you

asked him.

“I want to see your ass first. Turn your back to

us.”

He raised a brow, but did as she instructed. He

dropped his jeans, and he was wearing nothing
beneath.

“Oh, my God. You have the tightest ass ever.”

“Glad you approve.”

“Do you have an impressive cock? Or am I

going to have to pretend it’s big enough to satisfy
me?”

Bloodthirsty little wench.

“Turn around,” she said.

He did.

His cock, totally hard and demanding release,

jutted in front of him.

“Come a little closer. And put your hands

behind your head.”

He’d do what she said, but, oh, the payback

would be sweet.

She closed her right hand around his cock and

stroked him hard a couple of times. “Not bad.”

“I’m glad I please you.”

“You will.” She all but purred. Then she cupped

his balls in her right hand.

He swallowed hard.

Right about now, he was regretting telling her

how to successfully squeeze a man’s nuts, creating
exquisite agony, but no damage.

He glared when Davidson laughed.

She pulled down a bit on his sack, getting his

testicles exactly where she wanted them.

“Easy.” But his cock swelled in her hand.

“And then I can take them both in my palm,

right?”

Her hand trembled a little; his breathing was a

little more shallow. He knew what he was doing when
he handled another man’s testicles. She was an
amateur. He’d talked of trust, though, and how it was
a two-way street. He couldn’t very well tell her to take
her hands off his jewels. “That…ohhh…”

“You can take a little more,” she said.

And he did.

“Like you’re squeezing a rubber ball,”

Davidson coached.

Carefully, her motions very controlled, she

squeezed.

He sucked in another shallow breath.

“Does that hurt?”

He gasped. A bead of sweat trickled down his

nape. But he kept his hands behind his neck.

“Just a tiny bit more,” she said.

He was going to come all over her hand.

“Much as I want you to come,” she said, “I’d

“Much as I want you to come,” she said, “I’d

rather you fuck me.”

“Release your grip slowly,” Davidson said.

“Unless you want him on his knees, in that case, tug
on him and then let him go.”

Half a dozen threats sprang to mind. But

threats were easy when your nuts were caught in a
viselike grip by an amateur.

She gently rubbed his nuts together, then

slowly, slowly let him go. “You’re right,” she said. “It is
about trust.”

“If it’s all the same to you, we can experiment

with your trust from now on.”

“Nah,” she said. “I like having that kind of power

over you.”

He brought his hands down, and pulled her up

off the bed. “Now you have two choices, Ms. Fagan.
You can strip in under seven seconds. Or Davidson
can strip you.”

She looked at Davidson. “I kind of liked the

power while it lasted.”

Davidson sighed. “Never does with this brute.

Get used to it.”

“I guess, since you’ve wasted those seven

seconds, that Davidson will be stripping you.”

“Uh, I’ll get undressed.”

“It wasn’t a question,” Stone said. “You were

given a choice. You chose to screw around.”

“I…” She looked up at him.

Stone was done messing around. “Naked.” He

released his grip. “Now.” She blinked, but he was
unmoved. “Your eyes are beautiful, but batting them
at me won’t work. You’ll have more luck with some
other slob.” Over his shoulder, he said, “Davidson,
get naked.”

At least one of them was obedient.

Davidson had his clothes off and folded neatly

before she’d even pulled her shirt from her
waistband.

But since she was going to be slow about it, he

decided to enjoy the view. He sat on his mattress,
the place she’d vacated.

She unbuttoned the shirt, shrugged the material

from her shoulders, then dropped it on the floor.

“Davidson, unhook her bra.”

Davidson moved behind her and followed

instructions.

“Now,” Stone said, “let me see your breasts.”

She dropped the bra.

“Great breasts,” he said. They were smallish,

but firm, with pouty nipples. He wanted to be inside
her. Now. “Make your nipples harder.”

She cupped her breasts in her palms and drew

them together. Using her thumbs and forefingers,
she squeezed on her nipples, pulled on them, rolled
them around.

Christ. This wasn’t one of his more brilliant

ideas. His body was demanding release, not a
sweet striptease. “Nice,” he said. “Now the jeans.”
He was going to have to do a better job of controlling
his reaction. His voice was as jagged as cut
diamonds. And Davidson looked at him intently. He
knew. He knew the effect Fagan was having on him.

Not just any woman would do. He’d been with

women equally as attractive, many of them much
more submissive. But no other woman had literally
had him by the balls.

He wanted more of

her. “Turn around,” he said.

“I want to see your ass while you finish undressing.”

“You’ve already seen it!”

“Do you want me to repeat my order?”

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Davidson said. Then

he shrugged and added, “But go ahead, if you want
to live dangerously.”

“I thought I was in charge,” she said.

“You were.”

“Now who’s grumpy?” Davidson teased.

She turned around, facing Davidson, giving

Stone a bird’s-eye view of her curvy derriere.

She exploited it.

He should have seen that coming.

She wiggled and jiggled, and rose up on her

toes; then she shimmied and stretched. It must have
taken her two minutes to get the damn jeans off.

Davidson coughed to cover his laugh.

Definitely a good third.

She scooted backward as she bent over to

lower her jeans the rest of the way. From where he
was sitting, he had a face full of her rear.

Enough was enough.

He grabbed her around the waist. He stood

and simultaneously lifted her from the floor.

“Yikes!”

Helpfully, Davidson pulled off her jeans the rest

of the way, then Stone turned and dumped her on the
bed. She tried to squirm away, but he pinned her
hands above her head, securing them in one of his.
He jerked off her panties.

“Careful with those,” she said.

“Too late.” He tossed the scraps on the floor.

“Now, where were we?”

“I was in charge,” she said.

“So you were.” He moved his hand so he could

stroke between her legs. He found her totally damp
for him, her opening already naturally lubed. “You’re
wet,” he said.

“A little.”

His stubborn little sub was more turned on than

she was willing to let anyone know. He inserted one
finger inside her. She moaned and parted her legs.
He finger fucked her until she arched her hips,
asking for his penetration. “You wanted me to be
underneath you, right?”

“Y-yes.” She seemed a bit hesitant now.

In seconds, she was on top of him, but he still

had her hands imprisoned. “Like this?” he asked.

“More like with me setting the pace.”

“Davidson, sheath me.”

The other man grabbed a condom from the

bathroom. With great care, he placed it. Stone
hadn’t been this wild for his partners since he’d seen
Davidson last. Christ, had he missed it. “Mount me,”
he said to her.

She leaned forward and bit his lower lip.

Damn, she was sexy.

Davidson moved behind her, spreading her

buttocks, and he positioned his Dom’s cockhead at
the entrance to her pussy. “Watching the two of you
is making me horny.”

“She’ll have to suck you,” Stone said, lifting his

pelvis even as she moved a bit lower. “Because I’m
holding her hands.”

“Then I can’t really be in control,” she said.

“Smart, but grumpy,” Davidson affirmed.

“Definitely grumpy.” He knelt in front of her and
placed one hand on her shoulder. He curled the
other behind her skull to hold her head steady.

She’d chosen the position, but there was

nothing dominant about it. In fact, she was quite
helpless.

Davidson pushed down on her shoulder a little,

and Stone took advantage of it to sink in deeper.
She moved, simulating the sex act, and he stretched
her even wider.

“Wolf!”

Whatever protest she might have uttered was

choked off by Davidson filling her mouth.

The two men set the pace. Stone put his hands

beneath her buttocks and lifted her; Davidson
pushed her down.

He’d never been more turned on. His female

submissive rode his shaft. His male submissive’s
cock filled her mouth.

“I’m going to come, boss,” Nate said.

He met Nate’s gaze; then he looked at her.

“Swallow.”

She nodded.

Nate climaxed, and she obediently swallowed

every drop.

Stone showed no mercy in fucking her.

Her pussy clenched around him, milking him,

her breasts bounced appealingly, and her moans
were wildly abandoned.

He felt his own orgasm, but he practiced

internal muscle control, holding off a bit longer…
longer…

“Wolf!”

“Come,” he instructed.

She thrashed wildly, her vaginal muscles

squeezing him, and screamed his name as she
came.

Then, only then, did he ejaculate.

Satisfying…Very satisfying.

The three of them ended up in a tangled heap

on the bed. Sometime, maybe an hour later, she
said, “Wolf?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ll take that spanking now.”

Chapter Seven

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

Nate turned on a small lamp.

Kayla saw the very serious expression on

Stone’s face. It had been easier to decide she
wanted a spanking when she didn’t have to look at
the rough-hewn planes of his face. “Er, I mean no.”
Considering a spanking was different in theory than
actually exposing your bare parts to a Dom.

Stone laughed. “Yes or no, Fagan?”

She’d always been a decisive person. Once

she made a decision, she followed through. Until
now. “I… If we don’t do it now, I think I’ll chicken out.”
He’d been stroking her hair, but the moment she
started speaking, he’d stopped. She was trapped
between the two men, with their legs on top of hers,
and she loved the feeling of being smaller, safer.
She and Stone shared an oversized pillow, and she
angled a bit to look at him better.

“No pressure,” Stone said quietly. “Don’t do

this for me, or because you think it’s what I want. I
won’t be disappointed if I never spank you.”

“I want to do it,” she said. “For me. But don’t lie.

You do so want to spank me.”

“Well…yeah. I do. But I’ll get over it.”

She rolled on top of him. Nate protested that

she’d moved, but she ignored him. She stroked her
fingers down the center of Wolf’s bare chest. He was
hairless, well-toned, and naked. He just stayed there,
not taking charge. But from experience, she knew
that would last, oh, twenty seconds or so.

She’d enjoyed the vicarious thrill of being in

charge. Butterflies had filled her stomach and she
knew that he realized her hand had shaken when she
squeezed his testicles. He still hadn’t stopped her.

Even though she was scared to go over his

knee, frightened to be affixed helplessly to the St.
Andrew’s Cross, she wanted to experience
everything. He was due to testify soon. They might
never all be together again.

She knew she’d live with more regrets if she

didn’t get spanked than if she did.

Kayla captured his jaw and leaned in to give

him a quick kiss. He took the opportunity to give her
bottom a quick spank. Her eyes widened.

“Get dressed,” Wolf said. “Both of you meet me

in the great room.”

He climbed from the bed, pulled on his jeans

and a T-shirt, and left the room.

She sat up, not bothering to drag the sheet with

her. “I’m confused.”

“About?”

“Why he just left. I’m already naked. I figured we

could just get on with it.”

“A lot of this is about the symbolism,” Nate

explained. “When he instructs me to strip, I do, very
precisely. But I rarely undress before he tells me to. If
you were his sub full-time, he might very well keep
you collared and naked.”

“Collared?”

“A literal collar,” he confirmed. “In BDSM

circles, it shows ownership. Shows your outward
signs of submission to your Master.”

Shock seared her. A full-time sub might be

collared? She might wear a collar?

Wolf Stone’s

collar? Nerves, and a reluctant curiosity, took her
breath away.

She’d never allow something like that to

happen, she was sure of it.

“But this is your first official spanking, he wants

it treated reverently, wants to be sure you know

exactly what you’re doing. He will give you every
opportunity to change your mind. He’ll reassure you,
help you set the boundaries.”

Impulsively, she gave him a quick kiss.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “Now I

know what I’m missing.”

“I’ll just have to give you more then.”

“Promises, promises.”

“You’ll be there with me?”

“Where else will I go? As you pointed out, it’s

not like I have a bed.”

“Or a helicopter to get you back out.”

“Guess I’ll have to throw myself on someone’s

mercy.”

She cleaned herself up in the bathroom, then

redressed. Nate was already waiting for her.

Nerves nearly swallowed her whole when she

reached the great room. Stone was in his wingback
chair once again. The teasing man she’d stroked
and kissed was gone. An implacable Dom was in
his place.

“Not too late to change your mind,” Nate

whispered in her ear.

But it was and had been since she entered the

room and her gaze collided with Wolf’s. His eyes
were intense, their depths fathomless like a storm-
tossed ocean. And she wanted to see them darken
with approval.

He’d said he wouldn’t be disappointed if she

chickened out, but she would.

“We’ll start with over-the-knee.”

“Start with?” Her voice didn’t come out strong

and determined. It was more of a disappointing
squeak.

“It’s more traditional, likely more of what you

expect. We can work up to a beating later.”

Her breath whooshed out.

“Teasing,” Nate said. “He was teasing.”

“What’s your safe word?” he asked. “And your

understanding of how it works?”

“My safe word will stop the scene,” she said.

Stone nodded. “Begging won’t stop it. Neither

will the word

stop. Or no.”

She nodded since she doubted she could

speak, anyway.

His palms were pressed together, and he

tapped his two forefingers together. "Tears and
tantrums won’t stop it.”

“Breathe into it,” Nate said. “Use your yoga.”

They were freaking her out again.

Nate moved over near the fireplace, off to her

side. The fire had long since died down and only
embers remained. The room had a chill that chased
up her spine.

“Like downstairs with Davidson,” Stone

continued, “you’ll get a few slaps to warm you up.”

“Do you know what that means?” Nate asked.

“Not exactly.”

“Since this isn’t a true punishment in terms of

S&M, more of an introductory beating, I’ll deliver a
few slaps that won’t be as hard as the rest,” Wolf
explained. “The idea will be to bring the blood flow to
the region. You’re less likely to get bruises or welts if
you get properly warmed up. I’ll also use my leather
gloves as a way to stimulate the blood flow. If you’re
being punished, it’s possible your Dom may not
warm you up. The beating is more shocking that
way. But since this is your first time, I’ll talk you
through it.”

“Any questions?”

She hadn’t been able to stop staring at his

hands. “What will you use to deliver the spanking?”

“Your ass isn’t as hard as Davidson’s.”

“Still in the room,” Nate said. “Still listening.”

She saw Stone’s quick smile in Nate’s

direction. She nearly melted.

“So I’ll use my hand. I’ll give you ten to warm

up.”

“Softie,” Nate said.

“And a chance to reevaluate.”

She nodded. The clock was marking off

minutes again, the sound amplified because of her
nerves.

“Davidson, fetch my leather gloves from the

playroom.”

Nate left, and it was just her and Stone alone.

“Last chance.”

“I trust you.”

“Ten to warm up. Then you can expect twelve

well-delivered spanks.”

“Twelve?” That damn squeak was back. “That’s

how many Nate had to take. And he’s a man.”

“A man is tougher than you?”

She scowled.

“It will be with my hand, not a flogger. Anything

less, you might walk away with a false impression.
It’s my intention to be easy with you, not gentle.”

Nate returned with the gloves.

“Strip,” Stone said.

Her hands shook almost uncontrollably. She

wasn’t a smart-ass this time. She undressed quickly,
and then she forced herself to breathe. She was
hyperaware of being totally naked while both men
were fully dressed.

“When you’re ready, walk over to me. Keep

your head down, your gaze submissively at the floor.”

Had Nate done that? She totally couldn’t

remember.

“Then lie across my lap. You can brace your

hands on the floor. Keep your ass high, in striking
position. After each spank, unless I’m trying to make
a point, you will have a couple of seconds to
compose yourself and get back into position, if

you’re unable to hold it. Taking more than a couple of
seconds will increase the number of blows.”

When had her feet become leaden?

“All spanks will be delivered on your thighs, on

your buttocks, or directly on your cunt, if you don’t
keep your legs together.”

She gasped.

“You’ll like it,” Nate said.

She turned in his direction.

“So I’m told,” he added. “Not that I actually have

one.”

“Thanks,” she said.

“On no occasion will I hit you with my hand on

your lower back or higher.”

He’d kept his words even, explanatory, with no

emotion. She truly had the sense that she could walk
away at any time, that he’d take her to bed and have
wild monkey sex with her.

“Is your pussy wet?”

She licked her lower lip.

“Check,” he said.

She slid her hand between her legs. She was a

bit damp, and even that surprised her. With the fear
that was winding its way through her, she expected
to be dry. “A bit moist,” she told him.

“Lick your finger.”

Feeling scandalously naughty, she did.

“Good girl.”

She took three steps toward him.

“Your safe word?” he reminded her.

“Candy.”

He kept tapping his fingers together. “Candy?”

“I think being spanked by you will be sweet.

And then, to stop it, I’ll have to want something that’s
even sweeter.”

“You’ll be able to think of that when you’re

being tortured?”

“I can think of candy anytime,” she assured him.

“I can vouch for that,” Nate said. “She ate an

entire box of chocolates all by herself when we were
on assignment in Los Angeles. Grown men couldn’t
eat all that, but she did.”

“Candy it is.”

“Candy it is.”

She continued the last few steps. Somewhat

awkwardly, she maneuvered herself into position.

She noticed several things right away. First, it

wasn’t as comfortable as she expected. His legs
were hard and unyielding. Second, the denim from
his jeans scratched her skin. Third, he smelled of a
spicy soap. Fourth, she couldn’t hear above the
sound of her own heartbeat. Fifth, with the awkward
position, it was a fight to keep her legs closed, and
that meant her pussy was going to be exposed to his
view, and his punishment. And finally, she wouldn’t
rather be anyplace else.

“You’ve got a gorgeous ass,” he said. “Be a

naughty girl and show me your pussy.”

Not so hard, that. It was more difficult keeping

her legs together.

“Sweet,” he said, fingering her.

Her clit was a swollen nub. Unbelievably, even

after that great sex, she wanted more. She wiggled,
wordlessly begging him to bring her to orgasm.

Then he pulled back. She would have stamped

her foot, if she could have.

She thought she was prepared for the first

spank, but she wasn’t.

She gasped when his bare hand hit her butt,

straight across the middle, horizontally bisecting her
cheeks.

This was a warm up?

He pressed one hand into the small of her back

to hold her steady.

The second spank landed just below the first,

and its force made her lift her head. “I can’t.”

But that wasn’t her safe word. And the third

spank was even lower, and a bit harder. “Stone!”

He shocked her with the fourth, landing it above

the first.

Then the next was between her legs, scorching

her labia. She screamed.

His final warm up spanks were delivered

quickly, on either side of her cheeks.

“Damn you!”

“Good girl,” he said.

She panted. It was over? Despite her fussing, it

was over?

“Davidson, bring me my gloves. Tell me how

you’re doing, Fagan.”

She tried to get up, to move, but he forced her

back down.

“Your cheeks are a lovely red.” That comment

was from Nate.

She struggled to take a full breath. “I’m…

overwhelmed.”

“Are you turned on?”

She realized, unbelievably, that she was.

“You took those like a champ.”

“With all my carrying on?”

“I expected it.”

Somehow that made it worse.

He shouldn’t have expected she’d behave like

that, or that she’d even curse at him. It made her all
the more determined to take the real ones with more
stoicism. She thought of Nate and his quiet moans
and the way his penis got harder as the beating
progressed. He obviously wasn’t just thinking of the
pain.

Stone put on the gloves and vigorously rubbed

her upper thighs and buttocks. It hurt, but she forced
herself to keep breathing and to keep her mouth shut
instead of protesting.

She yelped when he passed a gloved hand

over her already-swollen labia.

“Ready for the real punishment?”

That wasn’t the real punishment?

He waited silently.

She nodded.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Yes.”

“What is your safe word?” He rubbed her clit

with the leather.

She squirmed. But, like Nate earlier, she was

getting more and more aroused. The leather, the
pressure, her own dampness…“Can…candy.”

“Would you like to use it? No shame in

stopping.” He pulled off his gloves and dropped
them on the floor.

“No.”

Before she could draw another full breath, he

spanked her, his bare hand, catching her already
tormented skin. She moaned and wiggled. He barely
gave her a second to compose herself before the
next one caught her, right below her right cheek.

Then he gave her no time at all to sort out the
dizzying feelings. The third, fourth, and fifth came
together instantly. She arched her back and
struggled.

Tears sprang to her eyes.

“Stop thinking about it,” Nate said. “You’re

fighting it, instead of absorbing it and enjoying it.”

Easy for him to say.

“You’re almost halfway there,” Stone said. The

halfway spank landed between her thighs. “Better,”
he said.

And it was.

It hurt. Stung. But she’d taken it.

“Countdown the final six.” He vigorously rubbed

her behind again, and she stopped thinking.

“Six!” she managed when he landed one

smartly on her right cheek. “Five!” she cried out when
he placed one on the other side.

The next had a searing intensity and she

sucked in a deep breath. “Four,” she whispered.

Sweat slickened her back.

She forced in a deep breath, and she realized

that, even though, he’d made the spanks harder and
sharper, she was able to handle it better.

He landed one between her legs. “Three.” She

shuddered. “Please…”

“Please?” he asked.

She wanted to come.

She wanted him to finger her clit and let her

shatter.

When she said nothing else, he gave her the

most devastating spank yet. Her pussy clenched.
She wanted, needed… She shook her head to clear
it. She no longer felt the pain in her rear. She was
aware only of her arousal, the scent sharp and tangy
on the air.

“Count?” he prompted.

“Three…?” She couldn’t see anything past her

own desire. He mastered her totally, completely. And
her tears weren’t from pain, they were from
surrender.

“Two,” he said.

His voice seemed like a lifeline, cool, calm,

composed, controlled.

Which left only one more.

Being naughty, very naughty, she dug her toes

into the floor to readjust herself. She turned her feet
inward a little, knowing it would part her thighs a bit
more.

He read her wordless invitation and blazed the

final slap directly on her tortured cunt.

She screamed.

She didn’t count a number, wasn’t capable of

it. “I need to orgasm,” she told him. “Please…
Please…” She knew she was babbling, but she’d
never been this desperate, this needy before.
“Please.”

Hardly aware of what was happening, she was

suddenly in his arms, then deposited in his chair. He
knelt in front of her and put her legs over his
shoulder. He inserted two fingers deep inside her,
then pulled back.

“Wolf!”

Then he tenderly licked her, sucking her clit into

his mouth.

“Bite,” she begged.

He did.

She screamed as the orgasm crashed into her.

She jerked convulsively and thrashed, calling out his

name again and again and he rode the climax. He
drew it out, gently nibbling, applying pressure,
sucking, licking.

She shuddered tremendously and when she

finally opened her eyes, he was still on his knees, still
between her legs.

“Well, Fagan, your first spanking is in the

books. And you’ve set yourself up for another by
orgasming without permission.”

* * * * *

“She’s asleep,” Nate said. “I put her in your

bed. I figured if she woke up, she’d appreciate
having you in there with her.”

Stone nodded, staring into the barren hearth.

Nate took a seat on the leather couch. Stone

scrimped on nothing. This stuff was plush,
comfortable. An exquisite, handwoven blanket lay
across the arm of the couch for cool evenings.
Pottery decorated the mantel -- one piece was a
horsehair pot, another was etched. Everything in this
room fit the location and its owner. He stretched out
his legs toward the nonexistent fire.

“Been thinking,” Stone said. “About being

alone out here.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s too big for one person.”

“Too lonely,” Nate said, correcting him. “Which,

you probably realized, now that it’s not so lonely
anymore.”

Stone nodded. But he didn’t pursue the

conversation deeper, like Nate knew he wouldn’t.
“She’s got a spankable ass.”

Nate grinned. “Like mine?”

“Yours is like leather.”

“So you just have to work at it a little harder.”

“No one has a hand hard enough to paddle you

successfully.”

“Good thing there are other implements of

torture.”

“All of which I’m going to use on you.”

His pulse became thready. What this man did

to him… Always had… Probably always would.

“She’s got a lot to learn, if she wants to play.”

Nate said nothing. He just waited. Stone was a

man of few words, but he never said anything he
didn’t mean.

“If she wants to play with us,” Stone clarified.

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d

been holding. “You’re not planning to kick my sorry
butt to the curb?”

Stone regarded him. Tension crawled over the

air like a supercharged storm. “You deserve a
beating for that comment.”

“Just checking.”

“You mind?”

“Kayla joining us permanently, rather than just

for the moment?” When Stone nodded, Nate said,
“Not at all. Just want to remind you, though, that there
isn’t an

us.”

“There has been on and off for three years.”

“More off. And nothing in the past twelve

months.”

“Eleven,” he corrected. “You ready to change

that?”

Nate felt an electrical pulse crawling around

somewhere in his guts. Yeah, he wanted to change
that. He’d wanted to change it since the beginning.
He knew, from painful experience, that Stone’s
definition of a relationship was a hell of a lot different
than his own. Cautious because of what had

happened the last time -- a little over a year ago --
they had been together and had a similar
discussion, he asked, “What if I do?”

Stone steepled his hands together and

regarded him over the top. “You didn’t want that last
time.”

“The hell I didn’t.” Nate came to his feet. “I

didn’t want the table scraps you were offering. That’s
different.”

“Table scraps?” Stone scowled, clearly

offended. “You’re calling what I offered you table
scraps?”

“What do you call it? Your idea of the perfect

relationship meant that I’d be available when you
wanted, at your convenience, and you could decide,
on the spur of the moment that you wanted me here.”

“That’s not exactly how I put it.”

“No,” Nate conceded. “But that’s all you were

offering.”

“I wanted you to share my house when we were

both between missions. I wanted you to come home
to me. That’s a relationship.”

“Bullshit,” Nate countered. “You won’t open

yourself up. You won’t admit you want or need
anyone. You’re so freaking scared of being hurt,

you’d rather be alone. That’s table scraps. And I’m
not interested. Thanks, anyway.”

Stone sat there.

Nate paced. What he really wanted was to

punch something. “A relationship is when two people
who are in love share everything. The good and the
bad stuff. They make plans for the future instead of
just seizing the moment. They spend holidays
together. They let each other know they’re alive and
safe.” He stopped pacing and fixed Stone with a
level stare. “They don’t turn down help. And they sure
as hell don’t shut their partner out.”

“Well.”

“We both know you were not offering that. If you

had, I wouldn’t have had to find out from Hawkeye
that you’d been shot. I’d have been there for the
surgery.”

“You were working.”

“Fuck you. Fucking fuck you, Stone!” He

dragged a hand through his hair. “You’re an ass
who’s going to end up with this big stinking place all
to himself. Twenty years from now, you’ll still be in
that chair, nursing a drink and wondering what the
hell happened.”

“Davidson --”

“I’m not done. For the record, now that I’m here,

I am not leaving you until this court case is over, even
if that hurts your fragile ego. I love you, even if you’re
too pigheaded to accept that or return it.”

Stone slumped, his shoulders sinking deeply

into the chair. “I --”

“Had no idea?” Nate finished for him. “Of

course not. You’re so damn busy avoiding love,
avoiding commitment that you wouldn’t even see the
possibility. Well, there it is. I am here because I want
to be here. I’m going to squeeze every fucking
moment of joy from the experience.”

He smiled, as if trying to defuse the situation.

“Joy. Is that what this is?”

“I’m not finished,” Nate said. “When the court

case is done, then I’ll go back to

work. This time is

on my terms, not yours. While I’m here, I sure as hell
don’t mind being your sub, because that’s what I
want. And adding Kayla as a third is a real turn on.”

“Now are you done?”

“I…” He dragged a hand back through his hair

again. “Yeah.”

“Come here,” he said. “I want to kiss you.”

If he’d said anything else, in any other tone,

Nate might have refused. But Stone was gentle,

encouraging. Very unlike him. Nate’s resistance
crumbled. And truly, how could he resist? He loved
this man, this Alpha.

Nate crossed the room. Stone stood.

He took Nate in his arms with a tenderness

Nate hadn’t known possible.

This kiss wasn’t about punishment or their

usual passionate aggression. It was about healing.

He looped his hands around Stone’s neck and

leaned in, simultaneously surrendering and asking
for more.

Stone cradled his head, holding him still.

His Dom’s tongue tasted of promise and the

future. His skin smelled of the untamed power of a
Rocky Mountain winter. When Nate was on
missions, it was a scent that seemingly came from
nowhere on the breeze, to tantalize, to keep him
from sleep, to keep his cock hard and his body
wanting.

When Stone’s fingers found his fly, Nate

helped. He undressed quickly, surrendering when
Stone said, “I want you over the arm of the couch.”

He was prepared to be taken with force. In fact,

his insides churned, ready for the possession.

Instead, Stone left the room for a minute, then

returned with his fingers slick with oil.

Nate reached back and spread his cheeks

apart for his lover’s possession. Stone worked his
forefinger in, lingered, then drew it slowly, oh-so-
slowly, back out, drawing out the foreplay. Nate’s
senses were tripping. Everything about this
exchange was completely unexpected.

“Stone!”

Stone paid no attention to Nate’s protests as

he slid a second finger inside that tight channel.

Nate forced himself to keep breathing.

But his body was becoming slick with sweat,

and he was hungry with need.

When Stone inserted a third finger, spreading

them, fucking him, Nate couldn’t help himself. He
moved. His hips were pumping in time to Stone’s
thrusts, and his own erection rubbed against the
smooth leather of the couch. “I need your cock.” He
could hardly keep his ass cheeks apart.

“Just a little more. I like watching you enjoy.”

Deliberately, Stone sought, and found, Nate’s

prostate. Masterfully, he massaged Nate’s insides.
Precum slickened the tip of his cock. “I’m going to --”

“Not yet,” Stone said. He stopped the motions

entirely, and Nate drew in a shuddering breath.

He fought to steady his heartbeat and control

his reactions.

“Ready for more?” Stone asked quietly a

minute or so later. He’d leaned over Nate’s body,
pressing him deeper into the couch’s arm, his breath
warm on Nate’s skin, his voice both commanding
and seductive.

“I’m not sure I can take it.”

Stone laughed. “You can.”

He understood the mechanics of the whole

thing. When Stone massaged his prostate, he
normally triggered a deep, rocketing orgasm in
Nate. One plus one always equaled two. What Nate
always forgot when they were apart was the
emotional reaction he had to Stone. His feelings for
the man made the physical so much more intense.
He could fight battles anywhere in the world, but
when Stone’s scent wrapped around him, his brain
ceased to function.

Stone removed his fingers from Nate’s

channel, leaving Nate wide open and hungry, and
unfulfilled. He could have orgasmed in seconds, but
he knew the scene would progress at Stone’s pace,
not his own. It was part of the thrill, all of the
frustration.

He gripped Nate’s testicles. “You’re going to

take a little more for me.”

He nodded. “Yes.” He would. He’d take

anything if it pleased this man.

Stone pulled down slightly on Nate’s sac,

keeping his balls low and away from his body.

“Make your hole available.”

Nate tried to nod and couldn’t. His nuts were in

his Master’s hand. Pain. Pleasure. He had no idea
where one ended, where the other started. His cock
was pulsing, demanding release. And the most
overwhelming thing? He knew he’d be on his knees,
nearly sobbing before Stone was finished.

Stone prolonged the agony and torture.

“On your toes, man.”

Nate remembered the sight of Kayla trying to

steady herself for Stone’s ministrations. For a few
minutes, he’d been proud he had enough distance
from his love that he was able to enjoy being
dominated without getting all wrapped up the way
Kayla had.

But now, he was there.

Needy now.

Desperate.

Hardly able to think.

Using Stone’s voice as a lifeline to reality.

He rose as Stone commanded, slowly so as

not to alter Stone’s grip on his balls and cause a
slash of pain. His cock pressed harder against the
leather couch. Stone definitely knew what he was
doing.

Nate reached back and spread his cheeks

again.

“Beautiful,” Stone said.

Nate imagined Stone’s cockhead against the

opening, the firm flesh feeling different from fingers.

Nate was slick from the oil, and his anus was

still open wide from its earlier preparation.

“Nice.” Stone inserted a finger, then another.

Nate had already been prepared, so he

accommodated them with no issue. This just felt…
gentle.

He enjoyed, drawing in a deep breath,

imagining what he looked like, so submissive, his
balls in the vise of Stone’s hand, his hole wide to
accommodate Stone’s cock.

“A little more?”

“Yes.” He was ready. Or at least he thought he

was, until Stone took a partial step forward and used
that momentum to push up against his prostate
again.

Instantly, Nate’s cock was weepy, his ejaculate

building inside his balls.

He gasped when Stone squeezed his testicles

a bit tighter.

“Please. Please!” He wanted to spill his seed

all over the supple leather, but he knew that wouldn’t
be possible until Stone decided it was.

“Shall I milk you? Or should I fuck you?”

He couldn’t think, couldn’t decide how to

answer the question.

“Both?” Stone asked.

He’d never been milked, had only a vague idea

of what to expect.

“Both,” Stone decided.

Expertly, his Dom massaged his prostate.

Ejaculate began to leak from Nate in a slow, steady
stream.

He fell even more firmly under Stone’s spell.

His gut was tight, his body was all Stone’s.

The flow from his cock was unlike anything he’d

ever felt. Not a powerful, screaming orgasm, but a
slow, soulful experience. “Dear God, Stone.”

Then suddenly, it changed.

Stone let go of Nate’s testicles. And his cock

filled Nate’s ass.

He hadn’t realized Stone had undressed, had

no idea the man had sheathed and lubed his dick
until it filled him, drove him, pounded him.

“Fuck!”

“You’re so damn tight, Davidson.” Stone

penetrated deep. His fingers grasped Nate’s hips,
and he dragged Nate backward to meet his thrusts.

Even though his ejaculate had been slowly

milking out for long minutes, Nick came hard,
screaming as the friction of the leather and Stone’s
possession pushed him over the edge.

Then, and only then, did Stone come. His hard

cock filled Nate’s ass, and his raw, guttural moan
said things he never would.

Stone gently bit Nate’s shoulder. “Mine,” he

said.

Yeah. Just what he wanted. “Yours,” he agreed.

His knees went weak.

“Is this a private party? Or can anyone join?”

From somewhere, as if a great distance away,

Nate was aware of Kayla’s voice. Soothing.
Feminine. As welcome as his Dom’s unyielding
fucking.

“Not private,” Stone said. “Get your sweet, little

spanked ass over here.”

Nate turned his head slightly to the side to see

her in one of Stone’s T-shirts, the hem skirting her at
midthigh. Her hair was rumpled, her features soft. So
different than either him or Stone.

On bare, silent feet, she moved toward them.

Tenderly her fingers feathered into Nate’s hair.

“I think we have enough energy left for Kayla.

What do you think, Davidson?”

Maybe Stone did. Nate was spent.

“Take off that shirt,” Stone commanded Kayla.

He still hadn’t released his grip on Nate.

Kayla’s eyes widened, but she stopped

touching Nate long enough to pull her shirt up and off.

Her pert breasts were taut, her nipples erect in

the brush of cool evening air.

Her labia were swollen from the spanking

Stone had given her earlier.

“Have you ever masturbated in front of an

audience?” Stone asked Kayla.

She shook her head.

“That chest over there?” He nodded toward the

corner. “There are a couple of toys. Get them. And
the nipple clamps.”

“Nipple clamps?” Her voice was high, a bit

distrusting, and maybe a little excited.

“Nipple clamps,” Stone affirmed. “But don’t put

them on. I want Davidson to do that for you.”

Maybe he wasn’t quite as tired as thought…

Chapter Eight

Since the moment Kayla had first arrived here,

everything had been an experience. From long walks
on the ranch and its rugged terrain, to the first
sighting of Stone’s naked, semiaroused body, to the
experience of being naked without questioning it, to
having two amazingly hot men at the same time.
Was she really going to masturbate, her legs spread
wide as they watched?

Wolf Stone had pushed her past the limits she

hadn’t known she had. He’d introduced her to things
she’d never believed possible. Seeing his
interaction with Nate had stunned her, shocked her.
She’d never imagined a man could be so
commanding and compassionate at the same time.
He was unyielding, but he never forced Nate to go
somewhere he didn’t want to go.

And Nate…

He was gentle with her. The way he had carried

her into Stone’s room and tucked her into bed,
placing a sweet kiss on her forehead before turning
off the light had made her feel cared for.

These two men had meant something to her

before she showed up at Cold Creek Ranch. Now,
though, it was so much more. From Stone’s firmness
to Nate’s tenderness, she was falling.

to Nate’s tenderness, she was falling.

She crossed to the chest he’d indicated. She

was conscious of Stone watching her every move.
Could he see that her buttocks were still red from his
spanking? Did it turn him on?

Kayla searched the chest. There weren’t just a

couple of toys in here. There were lots of them.
Dildos, some even made from glass. There were
butt plugs and vibrators. And paddles and cuffs.

A shudder rippled through her.

Determinedly she selected a dildo, big, but not

too big, and a smallish vibrator.

Peripherally, she was aware of Stone leaving

the room to clean up, then returning with a damp
cloth to clean up his lover.

Again, a paradox.

She thought Stone would have Nate perform

the ritual, but Stone seemed to want to do it for Nate.
“You’re going to get him hard again,” she said to
Stone. The cloth was in his hand and he was rubbing
Nate’s cock with it, in a back and forth stroke.

“That’s the idea.”

“I won’t be able to walk straight for a week,”

Nate protested.

“Poor baby,” she soothed. But she felt no

sympathy. She’d have trouble sitting for at least a
day. Her pussy was swollen. Every nerve ending in
her body was sensitized.

She picked up a pair of vicious-looking

clamps. They were, she assumed, for her nipples.

She swallowed convulsively.

Nope. No sympathy at all for Nate. Not if these

things were going on her breasts.

Nate was sitting on the floor, Stone stood near

the fireplace, his hand extended.

“Since it’s the first time you’ve had your tits

clamped…”

His raw language grabbed her attention, as

she knew he meant it to.

“…we’ll cut you a bit of slack.”

Obediently she dropped the clamps into his

hand.

“Come here.”

She was so aware of his nude body, hard

angles, rough edges, and the wounds struggling to
heal.

Her mouth was dry.

She wanted this man.

He cupped her breasts in his palms. “Lovely,”

he said.

She knew he’d just orgasmed, but his cock

was jutting in front of him. He drew her breasts
together, then flicked his callused thumbs across the
tips. She gasped. Her eyes closed.

White-hot heat streaked straight to her clit.

He laughed, a seductive, arousing sound.

Fear was forgotten. She was safe with him.

And more than that, she wanted to try anything he
dreamed up.

He lowered his head to suckle on her right

breast, drawing her nipple inside and pressing it
against the roof of his mouth.

“She’s going to like the clamps,” Nate said.

If it felt anything like this, she definitely was.

He lavished her left breast with the same

attention. She wasn’t going to need lube for the toys,
as moist as she was.

She nearly growled in frustration when he

pulled away.

“Ready?”

She scowled. He laughed.

“Davidson, throw a couple of pillows on the

coffee table. Fagan, up you go.”

After Nate put the pillows in place, she climbed

up on the table, aware of all their reflections in the
floor-to-ceiling window dominating the west side
wall. Stone himself came over to adjust her body and
the pillows so that her pelvis was tilted up.

He drew her toward the edge. “I want to tie your

legs to the table.”

To keep her legs apart. Her arousal was

replaced by a skittering of apprehension.

“Your choice,” he said.

She tamped down her fear and aimed for trust.

She drew a breath and whispered, “Yes.”

Within seconds, her spread legs were secured.

There was no way she could draw her thighs
together, even as she raced toward an orgasm,
provided that was even possible.

Her head was on the polished wood beneath

her, and her hips were elevated on the pillows.

Stone, she knew, would enjoy the show. She felt her
cheeks flame again.

Nate handed her the glass dildo she’d

selected, but she said, “I think I’ll use the vibrator.”
When the little device was in her hand, she said, “I’m
not really sure how the clamps work.”

“We’re going to let you get aroused, get past

your inhibitions.”

So he’d noticed her embarrassment.

“Davidson will play with your breasts. On my

signal, he’ll clamp one nipple, then the other. I’ll
tighten them as firmly as you can take it.”

She tried to nod.

“Turn on the vibrator, Fagan.”

Her fingers shook as she complied. After

everything she’d already experienced, this shouldn’t
make her so timid, but it did.

The low noise seemed to fill the great room.

“Your pussy is swollen.”

It felt like it. Wordlessly, she nodded.

“It’s beautiful.”

She used one hand to part her lips, not that

She used one hand to part her lips, not that

they needed it with her legs being spread so wide.

“Show us your clit,” Stone said.

She drew back the little hood to expose the

swollen nub.

“Nice,” Nate said.

Her eyes closed.

One of the men knelt between her legs and

licked her, from back to front. She strained forward
as much as the ties would allow. Quickly, furiously,
she was turned on.

She wanted more.

More.

He complied, circling her exposed clit, then

gently suckling on it. She moaned.

Then he was gone, and he was guiding her

hand toward her pussy.

She was consumed with the knowledge they

were watching her. So hot. So sexy.

Her eyes still closed, she brushed the vibrator

across her clit. Her entire body tingled.

Her earlier moan became a groan.

After a few more passes, she could hardly

contain her own reactions.

“Don’t come,” Stone instructed.

She moved the little device away and forced

herself to breathe deep until she’d contained the
orgasm.

When she was ready, she plumped her clitoris,

then feathered the vibrator across it.

She felt Nate at her breast. She opened her

eyes to see his smiling face and irresistible blond
hair. “You’ll like it,” he said, laving her aureole with
his tongue.

“Uh-huh.”

He grinned. “Keep playing with yourself.”

She did.

He nibbled, sucked, bit, then captured her right

breast and squeezed her nipple between his thumb
and forefinger.

Automatically she tensed.

“Distract yourself,” Stone instructed.

Then he was there, his hand on hers, guiding

the implement. Her hips jerked.

Nate released her nipple, only to instantly

Nate released her nipple, only to instantly

clamp it.

She gasped.

But neither man would relent.

Nate moved to her other breast. Stone eased a

finger into her vagina.

She was completely overwhelmed, done in by

the tenderness, the sharp pain, and, unbelievably,
the building orgasm.

As Stone fingered her, she continued to move

the vibrator, faster,

faster, then Nate clamped her

other breast.

He swallowed her cry of pain with a deep,

penetrating, seeking kiss.

As they cared for her, she began to relax,

began to realize the sharp pain was receding.

And then…

And then…

An orgasm clawed at her.

“Ride it,” Stone urged. He took hold of the

chain that ran between the clamps and twisted it in
his palm.

She thrashed.

She’d never felt anything like this. So cared for.

So physically aroused. So

female.

Nate deepened the kiss.

She pressed the vibrator harder against her

clit. She was close, so close…just a bit more.

Stone inserted another finger; then he yanked

on the chain.

She screamed.

The orgasm crashed into her and dragged her

under. “Holy…” She couldn’t find words. It took her
several minutes to become aware of the world
again.

When she did, she realized Stone had

released her from the bindings and was massaging
her legs. Nate had a warm, damp cloth pressed
between her legs. She opened her eyes. “My nipples
hurt like hell.”

“Welcome back,” Nate said with a quick grin.

“When I remove the clamps,” Stone told her,

“the blood will return. It’ll hurt momentarily. In a true
scene, we’d make the pain part of it, but since you’re
a newbie…”

“Gee. Thanks.”

Stone himself actually smiled.

He crouched next to her. She noticed the way

he favored his leg, all without any complaint.

Which was more than she could say for herself

when he released her right nipple. She howled.

“It’s not all that bad,” Nate told her.

Suddenly it wasn’t. Because Stone suckled,

gently. And that was completely distracting.

Then, wasn’t she lucky? Nate did the same

thing. She had two gorgeous men, one dark as night,
one fair as daybreak, both sucking on her breasts.

Part of her realized their time together wouldn’t

last much longer, and that made her all the more
determined to enjoy every single moment.

* * * * *

How the hell had this happened?

Stone liked his space, his privacy. He liked

waking up before dawn to grab a cup of coffee,
check the monitors in his office, scan the world
headlines, then working out hard before hitting a hot
shower. Instead, he was in the center of his mattress,
tangled in sheets and arms, with a woman’s hair

spread across one pillow, and one of Davidson’s
muscular legs beneath his own.

So much for an orderly, unencumbered life.

From the moment Fagan showed up with her

pseudotherapy skills, his world had been turned
upside down.

When he checked the perimeter in the middle

of the night, he’d been aware of her sleeping in the
guest room, her pajama-clad body sprawled
invitingly across a queen-size mattress.

He was a controlled, regimented man, and his

sexual desires were kept tightly leashed. Or they had
been, until

she showed up. Since he’d caught a

glimpse

of

her

cream-colored

thigh,

he’d

masturbated twice a day.

Then Davidson had arrived, bringing with him a

flood of unwelcome emotion. After they’d parted last
year, Stone had forced himself to move on with his
life. It hadn’t been easy. They had a long time
invested in each other. They’d met more than three
years ago and done the dance of being attracted
and never acting on it. But once they’d slept
together, once they’d fucked, combustion had
occurred.

Now he was back, and Stone couldn’t ignore

his own feelings any longer. He didn’t want Davidson
to walk away again, which he would, if Stone wasn’t

able to voice those things Davidson needed to hear.

Fuck it all.

He hadn’t asked for this, hadn’t expected it,

hadn’t wanted it.

He’d planned to get himself healthy, then let

Hawkeye know he was ready to return to duty.

Instead, his life, and his bed, were filled with

people he loved.

What the hell was he supposed to do with all

that? Go back to his regularly scheduled life?

Fagan shifted, and her delicate hand was on

his thigh.

Within a fraction of a second, he had a raging

hard-on. He wanted her, bad. And the image of him
stuffing his cock up her tight, virginal ass while
Davidson fucked her made him throb. He
disentangled all their limbs and managed to find his
way from the bed.

He went into the bathroom and closed the

door.

He grabbed a bottle of lube and squeezed a

dollop onto his cock, then closed his hand around his
dick and stroked. Stone started slowly, letting the
intensity build. Everything was about control, even

this.

He thought about his subs, about giving them

pleasure, about how their reactions gave him
pleasure. He thought of the way Davidson
responded so perfectly to every command, and he
thought of the joys of initiating Fagan, experiencing
her sexual awakening.

Fuck.

Was there anything better?

He squeezed harder, pumping his cock.

Seconds later, he groaned. He came, hard.

Maybe being alone wasn’t all he’d tried to

convince himself.

Finally relieved, at least temporarily, he

cleaned up. Davidson and Fagan were still sleeping,
so he pulled on a pair of workout shorts and headed
for the kitchen to turn on the coffeepot.

Minutes later, holding a cup of strong, black,

Sumatran brew, he headed for his home office, or as
Davidson called it, the Batcave.

He checked his monitors, called up an activity

report.

All quiet. At least for now.

He listened to his messages. Surprise of

surprise, the trial was going well, and he would likely
be called to testify sometime tomorrow.

Much as he’d like to make the plans and

arrangements and be done with it, he had to respect
his teammates, his lovers, and include them in his
decisions. He scowled. This relationship stuff was
complicating the hell out of his life. It would have
been easier if Hawkeye hadn’t said anything and
allowed Stone to deal with his own issues. But
Hawkeye liked to meddle even more than Davidson
did.

As soon as the trial was over, Davidson and

Fagan would be assigned to new missions.

That thought didn’t settle well in his gut.

Stone decided to keep the information to

himself, if only for a few more hours.

When he returned to the kitchen, Fagan was

already there, her hair sleep-tousled, one of his T-
shirts skimming her thighs, too far beneath her
buttocks for his taste. She stood looking out the
window, her back to him, her feet bare. She turned to
face him, and smiled. She held a mug of coffee in
her hand, lightened with a huge dollop of cream.

“How’s everything in the world?” She took a

drink of her coffee. “I woke up when you left the bed. I

thought you might want some privacy, so I stayed
here instead of barging into your office and jumping
your bones like I really wanted to.”

He refilled his own cup.

“Thought I’d push your chair away from the

desk and straddle you. Give you a deep kiss, then
rub myself on you until your cock got hard enough to
slip into my pussy.”

He put down the cup before the coffee sloshed

out.

She was blushing, much like she had

yesterday. He found that oddly appealing. A very
female reaction, even though she was an agent with
one of North America’s premiere protection
agencies. She was a woman who knew what she
wanted, knew how to get what she wanted, wasn’t
afraid to ask for it, and yet, her face still betrayed her
embarrassment about all things sexual. An intriguing
contrast. “And I got out of bed,” he said, “because I
couldn’t stop thinking about you holding your ass
cheeks apart while I bugger you.”

“Oh.”

“I was thinking about Davidson filling your

pussy at the same time.”

She returned her cup to the counter.

“Ever had two men at the same time?”

“No.” She fingered her hair back, away from

her face. “But I’d like to.”

“How’s your ass this morning?”

“It feels a bit tender. Nothing bad.”

“Turn around. Bend over.”

Slowly, she did, easing herself over until she

grasped her ankles.

“No bruising,” he observed. “One small welt.

Damn, Fagan, you’ve got one hot ass. Takes a
spanking well. Maybe we should make sure you get
another one.”

When she stood and faced him again, she was

smiling.

He pulled a chair away from the kitchen table

and sat. “Straddle me,” he told her.

If he hadn’t been observing her so closely, he

might have missed the way her tongue nervously
played with her lower lip. But she didn’t hesitate.

Bolder than he might have expected, she

pulled off the T-shirt she was wearing, even as she
walked toward him. As he’d noticed before, her
breasts were lovely, with responsive nipples that

pebbled beautifully, begging to be teased and
clamped.

Her pussy was lovely, the hair nicely trimmed,

and her labia still swollen from yesterday’s session.
Her cunt would look gorgeous with metal clamps
tugging down on it. Just that image made his cock
stir.

She climbed into his lap, dug her fingers into

his hair, loosening that thin strip of leather, then
pulled back his head and kissed him, deeply,
sensually.

She tasted of sweetness and cream with the

bite of coffee. And she tasted of woman and
surrender, despite the fact she was taking the
initiative. At a moment’s notice, he’d be back in
control. They both recognized that as the natural
order.

As she deepened the kiss, she leaned into

him, then eased back, rubbing her naked crotch
against him. The material of his shorts had to feel
abrasive on her sensitized skin, but her moan sure
as hell wasn’t one of protest.

He itched to lift her and slide her onto his dick,

but he waited, letting her play out her fantasy. Not
that that was a hardship.

In the distance he was aware of the shower

running. If Davidson was still draining the hot water

tank when they finished, he’d bundle Fagan in there
and then join both of them. Yeah. Things were sure
as hell getting more complicated by the hour.

Fagan fumbled with his shorts. Her breaths

were shorter and farther between as she sought, and
found his length.

“We need a condom,” he told her.

“Are you clean?” she asked. “I mean, like

STDs.”

“I am.”

“So am I.” She nipped his unshaven chin. “And

I’m on the pill.”

He smelled her arousal, the scent sharp and

primeval. It fired the dominator in him. She was his.
And he’d have her.

She sensed the change, too.

He lifted his hips, shifting her so he could shuck

off his shorts. He was tired of waiting for her to get
him naked.

“Let me,” she said, grabbing him and guiding

his cockhead toward her moist entrance.

Then she flexed her muscles and lowered

herself on him.

There was something amazingly sexy about

fucking a woman, filling her soft pussy, feeling it
conform around him. When he angled her so that
he’d find her G-spot, she bit his neck.

That was that.

He cupped her ass, digging his fingers firmly

into her sexy flesh. He took over, guiding her actions,
moving her up and down his shaft, filling her, making
his cock slick with her female juices.

“I’m going to come,” she told him.

Good girl. Already accustomed to offering that

power to him.

“Wolf?” It was a question and plea.

He nipped her earlobe. “Come.”

Her body writhed as she took his entire length

in a single stroke. She cried out and shuddered. He
felt the effects of her pussy clenching, milking an
orgasm from him.

She collapsed on him, her arms fastened

around his neck as the last few pulses of his
ejaculate filled her.

“Not a bad way to start the day,” she said, her

voice a bit more husky than usual.

He could get used to it.

The idea of starting it without her or Davidson

was already unthinkable. “Davidson is probably still
in the shower,” he said.

“I’m sure he missed a couple of spots on his

back.”

“I’m sure he did.” He stood, picking her up with

him. She squealed and hung on tighter, while
wrapping her legs around his waist.

As he walked down the hallway toward the

master bedroom, she nuzzled his neck.

In the bathroom, steam billowed, frosting over

the mirrors. Above the shower noise, Stone called
out, “Room for two more in there?”

“Thought I would shrivel into a prune before you

got here.”

He opened the shower door and let Fagan

slide down his body. Stone saw Davidson’s cock
was hard, his balls heavy and thick.

“There’s nothing shriveled about that,” Fagan

said.

Davidson grinned.

“May I?” she asked, reaching for a bar of soap.

She curled her hand around the shaft, and Davidson
backed into one of the walls, using it for support.

Stone, this time, was content to watch the two,

his submissives, play with one another.

He hadn’t imagined things could be any sexier

than they had been with Davidson. But he was
wrong. Unbelievably wrong.

As Fagan sank to her knees, she rinsed the

lather from Davidson, and then took the man into her
mouth. Stone’s own arousal stirred. Who knew
watching two people could be so erotic?

Even though she was servicing Davidson,

Fagan looked up at Stone. Water dripped from her
naked body, and her hair was slicked back and
darkened. He was pretty sure he’d never seen
anything, or anyone, so beautiful.

He learned he wasn’t much of a casual

observer.

On his own knees behind Fagan, he used his

fingers to tease her pussy and stroke her clit, making
her move and jerk, intensifying the oral experience
for Davidson, the lucky bastard.

Chapter Nine

“So, boss, when were you going to tell us?”

Stone was in the Batcave, his back to the door,

studying a computer monitor. Nate had cooked a
gigantic breakfast, complete with whole grain toast,
eggs, bacon, sausage, and his special crepes. He
figured they’d all needed to rebuild their energy after
the previous night’s activities. They’d sat at the
kitchen table together after the dishes had been
cleared. They’d had another cup of coffee while
teasing each other and making plans for the day.

Stone, in typical Stone fashion, hadn’t said one

fucking word about his upcoming testimony in
Denver.

Not much different than things had been last

time they were together. Stone, as commander, as
Alpha, always thought he knew best.

If Hawkeye hadn’t placed a call to Nate’s cell

phone, he’d still be in the dark.

Nate was ab-so-lutely goddamned tired of it.

After last night’s talk, he’d dared hope that

Stone really was tired of being alone out here at
Cold Creek Ranch, tired of being the lone wolf. Just
showed how gullible Nate really was.

Stone slowly turned his chair in Nate’s

direction. “I only learned before breakfast.”

“Which means you had, oh…two and a half

hours to say something.”

“I wasn’t going to keep you out, Davidson.”

“You already have.”

“Davidson --”

“You know, Stone, fuck you.” He took two steps

inside Stone’s sacred sanctuary. “You can screw me
into next week, but I have a mission to do. And you
won’t stand in the way of that, regardless of what the
hell else has happened up here.” His right hand
curved into a fist. He’d been pissed plenty of times in
his life, but never like this. “Were you planning to
sneak out of bed tomorrow morning and head down
I-70 alone? Or truss me and Kayla up like
Thanksgiving turkeys and just leave us strapped to
the St. Andrew’s Cross while you handle things on
your own?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then how is it?” he challenged.

Stone stood.

Davidson refused to be intimated.

“I fully intended to call a meeting later.” Stone’s

voice was dangerously low. He folded his arms
across his chest.

“Call this insubordination. Or assault.” He

rocked forward and landed a solid, square punch to
Stone’s jaw before he walked out of the room.

The satisfaction didn’t fade like it normally did.

This had been brewing.

Nate had no regrets, except for the obvious

ones. Wasted time. Wasted emotional energy on a
man incapable of opening himself up, even when his
life could depend on it. As long as he was
dominating, as long as things were superficial,
Stone was content.

As of now, that was fine with him.

He was finished. Done hoping for something

that would never happen. Done opening himself up.
Done with Stone.

He found Kayla lifting weights in Stone’s

downstairs gym. “We got a call,” he said.

She nodded, replacing the dumbbells on the

rack. She toweled off as she followed him.

“Grab your laptop computer,” he told her. “We’ll

use the kitchen as our command center.”

“Where’s Wolf?”

“Busy.” He snapped the word.

From somewhere upstairs, they heard a door

slam. If the man tried to leave the premises, Nate
would personally order his tires flattened.

“Would it have anything to do with your hand?”

“It might.”

She opened her mouth as if to say something

else, and then closed it again.

She hurried to her old bedroom, while he called

the other members of the team and issued
instructions that the gate was to be secured.

Two could play at Stone’s game.

Within two minutes, they were in the kitchen,

her computer going through its start-up sequence.

“What do we know?” she asked, all business. It

was hard to believe only a couple of hours ago,
she’d been in front of him in the shower, his hand
fisted in her hair as she took the majority of his cock
deep in her mouth.

At least

she knew how to be professional.

“Stone was notified that he’ll be testifying

tomorrow.”

“Sooner than we expected.”

“It’s my guess, and Hawkeye seconds it, that

Carlos Rivera will expect him to move tonight or
tomorrow morning.”

She nodded.

“So we’ll move now. Hawkeye has staged a

chopper several miles from here. We’ll motorcade
from Rocky Mountain Metropolitan Airport to a safe
house. Hawkeye thinks the major airports will be
monitored more closely than Rocky Mountain.
Information was sent to your e-mail address. It’s
surprisingly near downtown, and it’s likely not on an
approach Rivera will be expecting tomorrow.
Hawkeye owns a number of the surrounding
properties. It’s on a cul-de-sac to control access.”

She activated her air card and logged on to e-

mail.

“We’ll motorcade in just after lunch,” Nate said.

“We’ll use the fact downtown is a little more crowded
than usual to provide a diversion.”

Nate pulled up a chair and studied her

computer. Hawkeye had provided maps and
information about the federal building downtown as
well as blueprints of the safe house.

Not only was the case important, but Stone’s

safety was paramount.

Nate took that responsibility seriously.

“You want to talk about it?” Kayla asked.

“Nothing to say. Stone was notified he was

testifying as early as tomorrow. We wouldn’t have
known if Hawkeye hadn’t telephoned in.”

“He didn’t tell you? Didn’t tell

us?” Her mouth

slackened. “Who the hell does he think he is?”

Nate said nothing. There was no ground he

hadn’t mentally covered in the last hour.

“After everything…”

He heard the doubt, the hurt, the disbelief in her

words. All the same things he’d experienced and
more. “After everything,” Nate confirmed.

“So much for teamwork,” she said. “He really

didn’t want us here, did he?” Since they both knew
the question was rhetorical, she dropped the
conversation.

She was printing off blueprints and maps and

was powering down the computer when Stone joined
them. The back door shuddered in its frame when he
dragged it shut.

Damn if he didn’t look good.

Damn if Nate still didn’t want him.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

“What the hell’s going on here?”

“You’ve got twenty minutes to pack,” Nate told

both of them. “Chopper’s on standby.”

Stone coldly arched a brow. “I’m commanding

this mission.”

“No, boss, you’re not.” Nate stood. “Take it up

with Hawkeye, if you have a problem. As of now, I
have a protection order that covers you for the next
forty-eight hours. Get used to it. If you refuse, it’s my
understanding that the Feds will take you into
protective custody.”

“Davidson --”

“Me or the Feds. Pack a suit.”

Kayla closed the top of her laptop with a

decisive snap.

Stone scowled.

Nate strode from the room.

It was nearly impossible not to submit to the

man. He wanted to be on his knees, his head on the

man. He wanted to be on his knees, his head on the
ground, ass offered sacrificially for Stone’s
dominating penetration. That’s how things should be.

The whole situation infuriated him.

From a distance, he heard Stone ask Kayla

what the hell the plan was. He didn’t care if she told
him everything, but one thing was certain: Nate
would not allow Stone to be in charge. He mattered
far too much for that. And not only to Hawkeye.
Despite everything, Nate would give his life for his
commander.

Nineteen minutes later, they all met in the

kitchen. Guns and ammo were checked, gear in the
backpacks was double-checked.

Right on time, a four-wheel drive that looked

more like a tank than a sport-utility vehicle pulled up
behind the house. “Kayla, you’re first. Stone, you’re
behind her.”

“This is pissing me off,” Stone said.

Plenty had pissed Nate off. “Get over it.”

A driver and passenger emerged from the

vehicle. The driver opened the back door.

“How the hell many people did Hawkeye

assign?” Stone asked.

“Around a dozen to protect your sorry ass. All

of whom you would know about if Hawkeye hadn’t
needed to put me in charge of the mission.” He
scanned their surroundings. “Ready?” he asked.

Kayla nodded, and she headed for the door.

“You know,” Stone said, leaning in so close that

no one but Nate could hear, “I’m going to have your
balls in a vise so tight you’re going to beg for mercy.”

His guts tightened and his cock stirred at the

severe promise and threat. Despite everything, he
wanted his balls in Stone’s grip. He wanted to moan
as the man applied exactly the right pressure to
make his orgasm rocket through his body. Instead of
replying, he said, “Your transportation is waiting, sir.”

With a tight nod, Stone followed Kayla.

After securing the door, Nate brought up the

rear.

The driver closed the back door. He and the

passenger climbed back in, and they headed down
the three and a half mile dirt road toward the gate.

A guard swung the gate open so neither the

driver nor the team member riding shotgun needed
to get out.

“Is all this really necessary?” Stone asked.

“If you were protecting a witness who could put

away Rivera, what would you do?” Nate snapped.

Stone said nothing. There was only one

answer. When a witness was this important, no
matter who he was, if Hawkeye had the contract, an
appropriately sized security detail would be
assigned.

They headed for a remote spot to meet the

bird.

“You’d need a satellite to keep track of all this,”

Kayla said, while a radio check was confirmed as
they were all seated on the Bell helicopter and
adjusting their headsets.

“That’s the plan,” the pilot replied.

Within hours, the three of them were locked in

the safe house.

Concentrating on his job, he explored every

inch of the house. It was enhanced with state-of-the-
art security and electronics. The basement level had
a workout area, a home theater with video games,
and an open area to shoot pool or play Ping-Pong.

The house contained everything possible to

prevent its occupants from becoming bored, Nate
thought, while realizing that a safe house, no matter
how comfortable, would always be permeated with
threat and tension.

He checked out the main level office/command

center, living room, kitchen, and dining room. The
refrigerator was stocked.

He looked out the window and saw a guard

patrolling the backyard.

Upstairs there were five bedrooms, all with

private baths. Stone had claimed the one closest to
the stairs, and he’d shut himself inside, alone. Nate
wasn’t surprised.

Kayla had claimed the second bedroom, just

across the hallway from Stone. Her phone was
already sitting on top of the nightstand.

With a frown, he dumped his duffel on the bed

of the third room.

Nate paced the length of the kitchen while

Stone went into the office to have a final phone
preparation with the attorneys.

Tension hung thick and urgent, and it clawed at

Nate’s guts.

Kayla came into the kitchen, sat at the table,

and shuffled a deck of playing cards. She laid them
out for solitaire and quietly began to play. “He’s a
hard man to love.”

Nate stood near the window. With the trees, the

mountains were impossible to see. He wanted the

wide-open spaces of Cold Creek Ranch, wanted
things to be the way they were before Hawkeye
telephoned this morning.

“He’s not accustomed to sharing, to letting

anyone in.”

Oh, good. Not only were they confined at a safe

house, he was stuck with an amateur psychologist.

“But anyone with a pair of eyes can see how he

looks at you,” Kayla stated.

He turned to face her.

“He’s as torn up as you are, Nate.”

When he said nothing, she turned over another

card, placed the six of clubs on the seven of
diamonds. “Otherwise he would have laid you out flat
earlier.” She put down the pack of cards. “You would
have deserved it; we both know it.”

“Kayla, I appreciate --”

“You’re both like wounded animals. Maybe

Stone isn’t capable of changing. Maybe he is. I know
one thing for sure. If he is capable of changing, it will
be because he loves you.”

And that was the real trouble. Stone might care

about him. But he didn’t have the stick-in-your-heart,
need-to-have-you love that Nate had for him.

“Don’t underestimate him or how hard this is

for both of you.”

“Kayla…”

With a smile, she crossed the room, rose on

her tiptoes, and kissed him, leaning into him,
distracting him entirely.

“Nice scene.”

With her hands still around Nate’s neck, she

looked at Stone and said, “You’re always welcome
to be part of this.”

“Do we have any coffee?”

Nate disentangled Kayla’s arms and headed

for the basement. He didn’t remember whether or
not the workout area had a punching bag. He sure
as hell hoped it did.

* * * * *

“I’d like to lay you out flat, myself,” Kayla said.

“Want to try?”

“Nah.” She moved to the coffeepot, instead. “I

see through your bluff and bluster. Unlike Nate.” She
scooped grounds into a filter, then added water and
set the machine to brew. “I know you really don’t want
coffee. Since you’ve been behaving like an ass, I’ll

make damn sure you drink it.” She turned back
toward him and rested her backside against the
cabinets. “I don’t know who did the number on your
emotions, but it wasn’t Nate. And he doesn’t deserve
your scorn or your disrespect. You owe him an
apology. More than that, you owe him an
explanation.”

“You’re treading into dangerous waters,

Fagan.”

“So?”

“So?” he repeated incredulously.

She smiled. At this point, she had nothing left

to lose, and she was going to go out swinging
metaphorically, if not physically. “It doesn’t matter
what you think. Hawkeye hired me to do this job, so
you can’t fire me. Nate can replace me, but he
knows I’m good at what I do, so he won’t.” She saw a
dangerous muscle ticking in Wolf’s temple. “After
you testify tomorrow, we’ll probably never see each
other again. If you turn in a negative report about me,
I’ll be looking for a job, but so what? I’ve got plenty of
vacation accrued, so I’ll pout in the Bahamas. But
you won’t turn in a negative report.”

“Don’t try me.”

“You’re a lot of things, including an asshole…”

“You mentioned that,” he said dryly.

“But you’re not a petty dictator. You’ll tell

Hawkeye I did my job and that I did it with
exceptional service.”

“And the utmost respect for Hawkeye’s client,”

he added.

“That, too.” She smiled cheerfully. “The reason

you’ll write a glowing report about me is because I’m
one of the few individuals on the face of the planet
who’ll tell it to you straight. You’re behaving --”

“Like an ass. Yeah. Got it. Thanks.” He

loosened the cinch holding his hair back; then he
readjusted it. She saw the nervousness in the
gesture, the first betrayal of emotion she’d ever seen
from him.

“You’re scared of what you feel for Nate, and

maybe for me, too. You’re in love with him and you’re
halfway there with me.”

“You really --”

“Do have delusions of grandeur? Yes, I do”

She nodded. “It’s actually one of my finer traits.” The
coffeepot gurgled in the background. “I see the way
you look at Nate, especially when you don’t think
anyone is watching you. I know you two have a
history. If you didn’t, this animosity, this push and pull,
wouldn’t seethe between you. During a scene, he’s
completely devoted to you, submissive in a way that

doesn’t come from a place that he just wants to have
fun, it comes from a place of truly wanting to serve.
Because he’s in love with you. It’s amazing to see. If
you were honest with yourself, if not me, if not Nate,
you’d admit it to yourself, Stone.”

She poured him a cup of the wicked-strong

brew and handed it to him; then she poked him in the
chest, making him struggle to keep the coffee from
sloshing over the rim. “Last night, when I came into
the great room, you two were having an intense
discussion. I heard pieces of it, enough to know that
you’ve shut him out before. No one can make
decisions for you. But Nate won’t put up with this
much longer. Unless you want to be alone and
miserable, which is totally your choice, you owe him
an explanation.” She checked the clock. “You
screwed up. Fix it. I’m going for a run before dark.”

“That’s it? You’re going for a run? You drop a

bomb like that. Tell me you think I screwed up with
Davidson and that you believe I’m halfway in love
with you --”

“Three-quarters by now.”

“You deserve a spanking.”

“I usually do.” She ignored the little jump her

insides made at his pseudothreat. Being naked with
Stone was one of her favorite things on the planet,
she’d learned. “Later.” She headed for the front door,

despite the fact she despised running. Hated
everything about it, especially in Denver where there
was something like seventeen percent less oxygen
in the air than there was at sea level.

He looked good with a bruise on his chin.

She’d forgotten to tell him that.

Chapter Ten

Stone never apologized. So when he made the

attempt, he didn’t do it well.

But Fagan was right. He’d handled things badly

with Davidson. Stone took another long drink of the
vile stuff she’d brewed, then dumped the rest of the
cup’s contents down the drain. After all, he wasn’t the
masochist.

He took a breath. Then he untied and retied the

strip of leather at his nape before heading for the
workout area.

For a few minutes, he stood in the entryway,

propping his shoulder against the doorjamb.

Nathaniel Davidson was a handsome man.

Tall, lean, blond, and his eyes, blue like the deepest
Colorado day, danced with devilment at times, and
at others they probed relentlessly. Stone had seen
trust there, trust and respect. And now, as he threw a
final punch at the red bag hanging from the ceiling,
Stone saw wariness in Davidson’s eyes. “You have
a wicked right cross.”

“If I hadn’t checked it, you’d still be on the floor.”

He nodded and rubbed the ache in his jaw. If

he hadn’t deserved it, he’d have taken out Davidson

before the fist landed.

He pushed off from the doorjamb. “I was

wrong.”

“Which time?”

He winced. “Most specifically, today. Earlier.

You’d brought it up before. Trust. I should have
mentioned, before breakfast, that I knew I’d have to
testify today.”

Davidson grabbed a towel and draped it

around his neck.

Stone hated this, despised the wall standing

between them that he’d caused. This morning he’d
woken in bed, the other man’s limbs tangled with his.
And now he wasn’t sure they’d ever get the intimacy
back.

He reached for the leather at his nape only to

realize he’d already retied it once. “I came to
apologize.”

“Stick your apology. You don’t mean it. But we

deserve answers. Why’d you do it? Why’d you keep
me out? And Kayla? You’d skin us alive for the same
infraction, and with justifiable cause.”

“Honestly?”

Nate dragged the towel across his brow.

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t want the morning to end.”

“What?”

“I knew the minute we got the news, things

would change.”

“Stone, that’s the lamest, biggest crock of

bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

He shrugged. “There it is, Davidson. On the

table. Do with it what you want. Wasn’t about me
keeping you and Fagan out of the loop. Think about
it, man. Hawkeye was going to contact you. We both
know it.”

“Which makes your excuse all the more

ridiculous.”

“Say you’re right. So what the hell other reason

would I have?”

Davidson took a step forward. “Maybe, boss,

because you’re scared shitless of what you feel for
me? Because you know I love you. And you know
you love me. And you don’t know what the hell to do
about it. Any step now either ends the relationship or
deepens it, and turns your insulated world upside
down. Maybe that’s why you didn’t want the morning
to end.” He balled his towel and threw it half-
heartedly in the direction of the hamper. “I’ll tell you

this. A decision not to take any action

is a decision.

If you’ll excuse me.”

Stone stepped aside.

He caught Davidson’s scent…of clean sweat,

of man, of his lover…

The evening sucked.

Davidson and Fagan watched television in the

living room, not in the downstairs home theater, in
between checking with the rest of the Hawkeye
team. They made their rounds, were constantly on
alert. But they also made popcorn and ignored his
sorry ass.

As a man who’d commanded dozens of these

operations, he couldn’t fault their behavior.

As a man who’d never been protected before,

he wanted to tear a strip from someone’s hide.
Maybe from two hides…

Pacing, simmering with impotent anger, he

went to bed early, leaving the door open a crack.

Hours later, he was aware of Davidson and

Fagan going to bed together…in the room across
the hallway and without him.

* * * * *

“Cut him some slack,” Kayla said. She was

trying to do as she advised Nate. But being patient
with someone when your heart was breaking was
close to impossible.

They were in the bedroom she’d claimed,

buried beneath the covers, aware of Stone only a
few feet away in the room across the hall. “He tried,”
she said. “He did the best he could do.” She lay on
Nate’s shoulder, cradled against his body. He’d
showered, so he was warm from the water, and
smelled of a rainstorm.

“Cut him some slack?” Nate demanded. “He’s

doing the same thing he did last time we were
together. No decision. Doesn’t deal with anything.
Won’t commit. Afraid of being hurt. Fuck that. You
know what? I’m the lame one. I told him he was, but
the truth is, I am. I believed he was capable of loving
and committing, despite everything to the contrary. I
thought I was capable of being with him and keeping
my emotions out of it. I actually

volunteered for this.”

He needed to vent, and she would listen. Nate

was right, Wolf had been way out of line, but to be
fair, he’d never made promises, he’d never even
invited either of them to this party. In fact, he’d tried
to send her away, tried to send Nate away. None of
that excused his behavior, but it helped explain it.

“You want to know the worst thing about all

this?” Nate asked.

“Hmm?”

“I’ll do it again. Again and again. I’m so

freaking crazy about him, I’ll walk away, but if we’re
thrown together, I’ll drop my pants and let him fuck
me.”

“Let him?”

“Beg him to.”

“No need to explain it to me,” she said.

“Emotions clutter a whole bunch of things. They can
make rational thought impossible. I don’t have the
history with Stone that you do, but I feel his pull. I
want more.” She spread her palm on Nate’s chest.
“Just like I want more of you.” He had a sexy arch of
hair across his chest, arrowing down toward his
crotch, unlike Stone’s hairless chest. She toyed with
one of his nipples, and she was rewarded with him
shifting.

“Woman,” he warned.

She turned into him, kissing a trail up the side

of his throat.

“Take this off,” he said, tugging on the hem of

her nightshirt.

It was different without Stone, but he was the

one who’d made that choice. “After tomorrow…” she
started. She looked at him in the dim glow from the

lamp across the room. She held her breath. She
knew how Nate felt. She cared for both of them, and
she wondered if any of their time together mattered
to either one of them. Or had it just been a quick flare
of sexual heat brought on the by close circumstances
and heightened danger?

People in these kinds of circumstances had

affairs all the time. It usually meant nothing.

Somehow, though, she didn’t think she could

bear to go back to her ordinary world of a small, one
bedroom apartment in Chicago. The rented rooms
were in the middle of the country, with great access
to airports. She could be anywhere Hawkeye sent
her in a matter of hours. She had only a significantly
older brother, a few friends, and fewer possessions.
Now, suddenly, hungrily, she wanted more.

“After this,” he said, “we need to burn some

real vacation time. You name the place.”

She exhaled in relief, and the sound was

thready. “There’s this little place in Mexico…”

“Near the beach?”

“On the beach.”

“Other people?” he asked.

“Isolated.”

“Margaritas?”

“With the finest tequila on the planet.”

“I’ve got a passport.”

“I’ll make the reservation.” She helped him get

the shirt off over her head. “How do you want it?”

“Doggy style.”

“Of course.”

“I haven’t taken you from behind yet.”

She was reminded of what Stone had said.

Had it only been this morning? He’d said he wanted
to bugger her while Nate filled her pussy. A little
ribbon of excitement danced through her, quickly
followed by a stab of disappointment that things
weren’t as they could be.

While she got on all fours, Nate grabbed the

condom he’d brought into the room after his shower.
He sheathed himself, then shocked her by licking up
the side of her neck. “Nate!”

“Can’t help it. I like the way you taste.”

She felt him at her entrance and realized this

was the first time she’d had his cock in her.

He was almost the same size as their Dom,

and as he drove in, the angle allowed him deep,
deep penetration. She gasped.

“Okay?” he asked, stopping.

“Yes. Fill me.”

He did.

He held her about the hips, holding her steady

for his thrusts. He was such a different lover than
Stone, gentler, but just as amazing. Another study in
contrasts.

She tried to twist her body backward so she

could capture his balls, but he rode her so hard she
was lost.

“Just enjoy,” he told her.

She let out a moan of pleasure. Absently she

wondered if Stone could hear them, if he wished he
were with them.

Inside her, she felt Nick’s cock thicken.

Wrapping one arm around her, he held her tight and
then reached beneath her to hold one of her breasts,
squeezing her nipple tightly. “You need clamps,” he
said, “so I can grab the chain.”

“Just…pinch…harder…”

He applied more and more pressure, and she

came, crying out, bucking, writhing, grinding her hips
backward, seeking more.

He adjusted her body, so she was upright. One

arm remained around her abdomen, the other
tightened around her waist.

When he came, he whispered her name

against her ear.

She was undone. The two men were totally

different in their approaches. She wanted both of
them, needed what each had to offer.

“Damn,” he said. “Stone doesn’t know what

he’s missing with his stubbornness.”

“I really like the way you fuck me,” she said, her

breaths in little pants of satisfaction.

“Jesus, Kayla. I may never let you go.”

She hoped not. “But it’s not the same without

him, is it?”

“Honey, with you, I ain’t complaining.” He

maneuvered both of them expertly, cradling her as if
she was precious, until they were lying next to each
other.

An overhead fan cut through the warm, late

summer air, cooling their sweat-slickened skin. He
stroked her hair and kissed her forehead.

She truly felt cherished and appreciated. “Glad

I volunteered.”

“I would have requested you, if you hadn’t.”

“Really?”

“After Los Angeles,” he said, referring to their

last assignment together, “there’s no one else I’d
rather have at my back.”

“No one else I’d rather have fucking me from

the back,” she teased.

“You really are naughty,” he said.

“So spank me.” She sat up and pulled on her T-

shirt, more from habit than because she’d gotten
cold.

“Girl, you’re so going to get it over my knee.”

“Promises, promises,” she said sleepily.

She wasn’t aware of drifting off to sleep, but

she came awake with a shuddering start.

The house was quiet, too quiet.

She listened intently. Beside her, Nate, slept.

Stone, she knew from the days at his house,

often prowled during the night. Maybe she’d heard

him.

She turned to look at the clock and realized the

digital display was blank. If she remembered
correctly, they’d left a lamp burning when then went
to sleep.

Kayla breathed deeply, trying to orient herself.

There was ambient light from the street. Which
meant power was out only in the house. She did
quick addition, and didn’t like the result.

She reached for her handgun and nudged

Nate, placing a fingertip across his lips.

His eyes opened.

“Trouble,” she whispered.

After he’d blinked several times, she saw

alertness. He nodded. Silently he pulled on boxers,
then reached for his handgun.

She grabbed her cell phone and opened it

beneath the sheets, shielding its telltale glow. Three-
thirty seven a.m. She pressed number nine, then
Send, alerting Hawkeye’s headquarters to a
potential emergency.

Without another word, she climbed from the

bed and moved across the hallway. Nate continued
on past her, heading down the stairs.

When she’d only taken three steps into the

room, Stone sat up, scaring the hell out of her,
slamming her pulse into overdrive.

Please God don’t

ask any questions, and don’t assume I’m here to
jump your bones.

In the scant light streaming through the blinds

from the outside, she turned her gun, hoping he’d
catch the glint of metal.

He did.

Wordlessly, he dressed in shorts, shoved his

feet into running shoes, and palmed his gun. He
crossed the room to stand next to her.

She shrugged. “Power’s out in the house, but

streetlights are still on,” she whispered. Then she
added, “Could be a random power thing.”

“It’s not,” Stone said.

”Nate headed for the main level.”

“Hawkeye?”

“Alerted. I’ll check the back bedrooms.” She

didn’t wait for Stone. Instead, she started for the
door.

Shocking her, he grabbed her shoulder, turned

her back toward him, pulled her against him and
kissed her hard. “Good work.”

She shook her head to clear the sudden

emotional devastation. She was a professional. She
had a job to do, despite her feelings for Stone.

In the silence, in the dark, she checked the

room Nate had chosen. Everything was as it should
be.

She heard a loud thump downstairs. Her heart

thundered. Her initial instinct demanded she call out
to her teammates or head that direction. Instead, she
forced herself to follow established procedure and
methodically checked the other two rooms to make
sure no other threat loomed.

When the rooms were cleared, she closed the

doors behind her.

Cursing the dark and the two floorboards that

squeaked, she descended the staircase.

When she reached the kitchen, Nate and Stone

were there.

She made a circle with her thumb and

forefinger, indicating the upstairs was secure.

Nate repeated the motion, indicating the check

of the main level was clear.

“That bump?” she whispered.

Nate shrugged.

The noise, the same one, maybe a different

came again, muted, muffled, from the lower level.

Adrenaline clawed at her insides.

Stone handed out night vision goggles and

rifles that he’d obviously grabbed from the small
command center.

She put on the goggles and adjusted to the

momentary disorientation. By unspoken accord,
Nate, as commander, went first, and she followed a
couple of seconds later. Stone brought up the rear.

As they moved deeper, she noticed a weak

puddle of light beneath the closed door.

They paused at the bottom of the stairs, Nate

whispered a countdown from three. On one, he
shoved the door open.

The light went out.

Bullets flew. The sound was deafening, the

flash of light blinding.

She forced everything aside, relying on

training. Diving to keep a low profile, she returned
fire.

Then,

silence.

Overwhelming,

deafening

silence.

In the distance, sirens screamed. At least the

cavalry was out there somewhere.

The Ping-Pong table had been turned on its

side.

From their left, glass shattered. Someone

coming in? Or someone going out? Or a damn
diversion?

Nate signaled that he was going straight ahead

toward the upended table, that she should move
right, and Stone should move right, keeping Stone in
the least amount of danger, which, she knew, would
piss him off.

She nodded her understanding, ejected her

empty clip, slammed a new one into place, and then
headed toward the laundry room.

She confirmed the broken window. A second

glance at the area showed a glint of metal near the
gas water heater.

Oh,

shit.

She memorized the placement of the person,

the heater, the washer, the dryer, the nylon
clothesline, pulled back, flattened against the wall,
holding her fire.

The assailant wasn’t as considerate.

He unloaded an entire clip in her direction.

Stone hurried over.

Gunfire exploded from the middle of the room.

Nate.

Stone raised his gun.

“Gas water heater!” she shouted at him in the

quiet between the exchange of fire.

“Fuck!”

“I have to take him.”

He nodded.

“Wolf Stone,” he called out. “Come and get me.

Million bucks if you get me first.”

“Idiot,” she shouted.

Stone moved into the doorway.

The shadowy figure moved to the right, and she

saw him reach for a battery-powered spotlight. The
light would blind them.

She yanked off her night vision goggles.

Stone lunged left, trying to get behind the wall,

so they both had access to the doorway.

Bullets ripped through the air.

She moved into the doorway and shot

deliberately to avoid the gas line.

She heard a scream, but the bullets kept

coming.

When silence fell, she dropped her clip out and

slid the third home.

Stone moved through the doorway, she

followed. He lunged for the downed man; she used a
pocketknife to slice the nylon laundry cord.

Stone flipped the man over and yanked his

arms behind his back.

She bound his arms and his legs tight with the

cord.

He flailed, and she put the barrel of her pistol in

his ear. “How many more of you?”

“No understand.” The man was whispering,

choking, gasping.

“He understood a million dollars,” she said to

Wolf. “One more chance,” she told the intruder. She
pulled back the gun and knocked him across the
head with it.

“Dos.” He gasped. “Two!”

”I’m going after Nate,” she said.

“I’ll be outside.” He crossed to the broken

window and grabbed a towel to clear away the
broken glass.

Nate was struggling, hand-to-hand with a

second man. Too close for firepower, she lashed
out, kicking the man in the side of the head.

He dropped.

“Jesus,” Nate said. “That wasn’t yoga.”

“Ohm,” she replied. “Could be one more.”

“Watch him.”

Several minutes later, Nate and Wolf returned.

The perimeter guard had been found dead, his
jugular sliced.

But there was no other intruder.

When the good guys arrived, the two wannabe

assassins were trussed and tucked. Nate’s knuckles
were bleeding, her ears rang from the gunfire, and
Wolf was scowling.

Hawkeye was smart; they’d called the Feds, as

well as the local police. That made things a lot
smoother. Or, if not, it kept the jurisdictional pissing
match between agencies rather than focused on

them.

Within two hours, power had been restored, the

thugs had been carted away, the tech guys had
finished their picture taking and analysis, Hawkeye
had half a dozen people stationed around the
perimeter and their top person still inside with them.

“There’s one more out there,” Kayla said.

“We’re on it,” Ms. Inamorata promised.

She wished she could believe it.

“By the way, Stone,” Ms. Inamorata said, “you

should put a piece of steak on your jaw. It’ll help the
bruising.”

If Ms. Inamorata had a first name, Kayla had

never heard it. She was a highly respected agent,
Hawkeye’s best resource for cleaning up messes.
She seemed to show up whenever she was needed,
wherever she was needed, then seemed to vanish. If
she weren’t so damn competent and pleasant, and if
she hadn’t been the one to insist Kayla be hired
despite her lack of experience, Kayla could easily
hate Ms. Inamorata. Tall, willowy, never a single one
of her unbleached blonde hairs out of place,
mascara never smudged, and often kicking ass in
heels and a skirt.

“Thanks for that,” Stone said. Then he added,

“Nancy?”

She shook her head. “Nancy Inamorata? That’s

not half bad. Better than the last one you tried. But
you’re still only half right.”

“Shirley?”

“No again. And you only get one try per

meeting,” she told him. “Stay alive, will you?”

Then she was gone, leaving silence once the

echo of her heels faded away.

Kayla sank down onto a kitchen chair and

wrapped her arms around her middle, suddenly cold
from the postexcitement letdown.

“I mean it,” Stone said. “Great job, Fagan.”

She didn’t want it to, but his opinion of her

performance mattered.

“Davidson is right to want to serve on the same

team as you.”

But what about him? Did Stone want to be on

her team? Want her on his team?

He pulled out a chair and sat across the table

from her. He leaned in closer, crowding her space.

“I, on the other hand, was scared shitless,”

Nate said, folding his arms across his chest and

leaning back against the countertop.

“Liar,” she said with a laugh. “I’ve never seen

you afraid of anything.” She pushed back away from
the table. “Coffee?”

“Now I’m scared, too.” Stone said.

“Hey, wait! I’ll do the coffee-scooping part,”

Nate said.

“Screw you both,” she said. She crossed the

kitchen, grabbed the carafe, and filled it with water.

He’d changed into blue jeans and a T-shirt,

thoughtfully provided by Hawkeye. He’d left his feet
bare, though, and for some odd reason, she found
the sight erotic, like it was an invitation to get him out
of the rest of his clothes.

“Are you two ganging up on me?”

“Got any more of that nylon cord left,

Davidson?” Stone said. “Anything to keep Fagan
away from the coffee.”

For a minute, just a brief glimpse of time,

things were as they had been before Stone and
Nate’s argument the previous day. They were
laughing, teasing, enjoying. Loss snaked through
her, and she swallowed a lump in her throat.

Nate grabbed a filter and stuffed it into the

basket, then spooned in scoop after scoop.

“Are you trying to put some hair on Stone’s

chest?” she asked.

“Oh, hell no,” Nate said.

She agreed with that. Stone was pretty well as

close to perfect as he was. “We work well as a
team,” she said.

“Yeah,” Nate said. “We do.”

She noticed the pointed look he shot in Stone’s

direction.

They did make a good team, and if Stone

weren’t so damn stubborn, so damn set on doing
things alone and keeping others at arm’s length,
he’d admit it, too.

She didn’t blame Nate for yesterday’s

argument with Stone. If she were a guy, she’d be
tempted to punch the maddening, stoic Stone, as
well.

Nate turned the coffeemaker on, filling the

room with the hiss and splash of the aromatic brew.

In only a few hours, they’d transfer from the

house to the vehicles. And after the testimony and
Stone’s safe return to Cold Creek Ranch, their
mission would be over.

Maybe she and Nate would take that vacation

they’d talked about last night. But there would be
something -- someone -- missing.

That was even more powerfully illustrated now,

after the break-in. She wasn’t normally one for a lot
of emotion. She did her job, kept her objectivity. But
now… “If anything had happened to either one of
you…”

Stone met her gaze. She saw something there,

raw and uncontrolled. He might never verbally admit
how much he loved Nate, how much he cared for her,
but it was there in the depths of his blue eyes.

Anger and frustration bubbled up in her. If he

simply didn’t give a damn, it would be one thing. But
to know it was there, deep inside, kept harnessed,
made her ache. “I’m going to hit the shower,” she
said. Which would leave the two men alone. And
maybe, just maybe, this tension would be gone when
she returned. She couldn’t help herself. She stopped
and placed a kiss on Stone’s forehead.

He grabbed her wrist to prevent her from

walking away.

She blinked. He pulled her toward him and

kissed her hard and deep. She tasted the hunger he
tried to keep under control.

Oh, yes. He cared. But how to break through

that layer of reserve?

As he ended the kiss, she placed her hand

alongside his jaw. With a final kiss on his forehead,
she pulled the wrist he’d been holding and walked
away.

She half expected one or both of them to join

her, and she was disappointed when they didn’t.
How was she supposed to wash her back? It hadn’t
taken her long to get spoiled. She liked being
spoiled, she decided.

After she finished drying her hair, putting on her

makeup, and dressing, she returned to the kitchen to
find it empty.

She drank the last cup of coffee that they’d

thoughtfully left in the carafe, then slathered a bagel
with a thick dollop of cream cheese. When Stone
walked into the kitchen, she nearly dropped her cup.

Chapter Eleven

“Damn,” she said. He looked hot as sin in

jeans or shorts, even better naked. But this… A
tailored suit fit his wide shoulders and followed the
contours of his trim waist and hips. The dark
charcoal color complemented his skin tone, making
his blue eyes all the more electric. The crisp white
shirt with the conservative red tie at his throat added
a splash of color, and made him look like a gift she
wanted to unwrap.

His hair was sexily cinched at his nape.

She decided then and there that he really didn’t

look like a gift. He looked more like a pirate. A
slightly tamer version on the exterior, but totally
untamed on the inside. Arrgh. “I suppose we don’t
have time for me to rip your clothes off you and have
wild, monkey sex on the floor?”

“I guess the suit still fits,” he said, adjusting the

knot at his throat.

“Or you fit it. One or the other.” She forgot all

about their tension and moved toward him. How long
could wild, monkey sex take, anyway?

“Fagan, about last night…”

She waited.

“I apologized to Davidson.”

Kayla blinked.

“I told him to stick it.”

Nate walked into the kitchen, and the contrast

between the men made her knees weak.

Nate’s blond hair was a bit spiky, held in place

with some gel. It wasn’t a look that she usually went
for, but on him, it was just plain hot. He wore a T-shirt
and a windbreaker, probably to cover the gun tucked
into his waistband. Black boots, tight jeans, a leather
belt, and dark sunglasses perched on top of his
head made her hormones slam into overdrive.

To think, she’d been naked and tied up while

they both had their wicked way with her.

“If we happen to have another chance to work

together, Stone can fuck me into the next day. Tie
me up, use me and abuse me --”

“

David-son,” Stone warned, the word broken

into a two-syllable growl.

“I’ll be a proper submissive, but when it’s over,

it’s over.”

“So that means…”

“We’re not invited back to Cold Creek Ranch,”

“We’re not invited back to Cold Creek Ranch,”

Nate said.

“Don’t you fucking dare twist my words,” Stone

snapped.

“What he said was we’re welcome to come

back and stay as long as we’d like. When I asked if
we should give up our own places, he did his usual
silent response. So we can use Cold Creek like a
hotel, but not an apartment. Get the distinction?”

She sighed. It was either that or bang their

heads together. “It will be lonely without us,” she told
Stone.

“You’re more than welcome at my home any

time you want to come, and you’re welcome to stay
as long as you’d like.’

“But leave your plants in Chicago,” Nate

added.

Her cell phone rang. “Showtime,” she said

when she ended the call.

Personal issues were shoved aside as they all

switched into professional mode. And she couldn’t
forget the one assassin who’d gotten away.

A hulking SUV backed up the driveway, and

Nate pushed a button to activate and open the
garage door.

The driver backed into the garage.

Nate went first, opening a door. Kayla slid into

the vehicle, across the seat to the far side. Stone
followed, then Nate shoved in. The SUV was moving
before the back door was even closed.

There was a secure parking garage beneath

the building. The judge had agreed that the risk to
Stone’s life was real, and that keeping him off
Denver’s streets was in the case’s best interests.

Security was tight at the building, and the press

was thick, including a local radio talk show host
who’d brought the case against Carlos Rivera to
national attention and who’d done several
fundraisers for Mandy Garcia, the kindergartner and
only survivor when Rivera killed her federal agent
father.

Kayla left her gun with Nate. During their

planning, they’d decided he’d stay with the vehicle,
and she’d accompany Stone to court.

They were met by armed guards and escorted

to an elevator.

“Nervous?” she asked Stone. She was. There

was still a thug out there.

“Pissed,” he said.

Their arrival caused a commotion the judge

was forced to gavel down.

Carlos Rivera looked over his shoulder and

grinned, as if greeting a long lost friend.

Kayla hadn’t been prepared for the sight of

Rivera. In her mind, he was cold, calculating. In
reality, he was a stunningly handsome man with a
quick smile and long, thick lashes that made his
brown eyes look inviting. His body was lithe, as if he
were a runner. His suit was expensive, but not over
the top, respectful.

He had the presence of a movie star and had

surrounded himself with both a nonthreatening male
attorney and a beautiful, buxom blonde lawyer. The
man was a brilliant strategist, she had to give him
that. If the jury saw what she did, convicting him
would be no easy matter. The prosecutors had an
uphill battle.

“He’s a snake,” Stone said.

* * * * *

Nate hated waiting.

He wanted to be inside the building, wanted

the opportunity to meet Rivera in a dark alley.

He sucked at surveillance, preferring to be in

the thick of the action.

He paced. He checked his phone. He checked

his watch.

Another thirty seconds had crawled by.

He wanted Stone out of the building, wanted

him safe and secure.

He took the stairs to street level, into the

blazing Rocky Mountain sun. A hotdog cart vendor
wheeled into place near a street corner, and
escapees from nearby office buildings headed into
restaurants and shops.

He walked around the small plaza. Kayla would

give him a heads-up before Stone was excused,
giving Nate plenty of time to get back into position.

A few employees were outside smoking. They

were well away from the building’s entrance, and it
was the last place in Denver left for that habit. A
couple of people from the press hung around,
waiting for something to report on their noon news
update. Just another normal day outside the
courthouse.

He kept his gaze on the entrance, watching the

comings and goings.

Nate purchased a soda from the hotdog cart

vendor. It’d been a short night, and residual
adrenaline hung in his system like a weight. He
needed to stay sharp.

A guy who’d been sitting on a bench stood,

smoothed out his slacks, and adjusted his
sunglasses. He then picked up a briefcase Nate
hadn’t recalled seeing earlier. He moved it from his
right hand to his left.

Then Nate realized a woman had been sitting

next to the man a few minutes ago.

Fuck.

Nate dropped his can in a planter.

He

signaled

one

of

Hawkeye’s

representatives.

At a flat-out run, he went after the guy.

Right in front of the entrance, he threw himself

forward, slamming them both into the concrete
pavement.

Someone snapped a camera.

A film crew went into action.

“Bastard!”

“This is going to hurt you more than it does

me.” He grabbed the man’s head and slammed it
into the ground.

The Hawkeye operative grabbed the briefcase,

and in the chaos, walked off to give the leather case
to a cop.

The crew from the Denver’s leading news show

went live.

Nate stood.

Security came over and snapped handcuffs on

both of them.

* * * * *

Raw energy clawed at Stone.

He couldn’t vanquish the thoughts of Mandy

Garcia crying over her father’s battered body. He
couldn’t wish away images of Rivera’s thugs pointing
a gun at Fagan.

He wanted revenge.

He and Fagan were seated in the last row. He

recognized a handful of people in the room, all
Hawkeye representatives, some with hastily
arranged press credentials.

He took out his notebook, a journal of sorts,

that he kept of events. He focused only on his
notebook, seemingly blocking out everyone and
everything. And when he was called to the stand, he
tucked his notes back into the interior pocket of his
suit coat and walked down the aisle slowly,

assessing, planning.

Instead of continuing to the witness stand, he

stopped at Rivera’s table. Five seconds, five
seconds…that’s all he needed to make Rivera snap.

The bailiff fingered his gun and took several

steps toward them.

Stone placed his hands on the table and

leaned toward Rivera. “Donkeys.”

Rivera blinked.

Stone was aware of noise building in the room.

“You can’t satisfy a woman, so you fuck

donkeys instead.” Keeping the man’s gaze prisoner,
he adjusted Rivera’s tie. Then he yanked on it.

Rivera shoved his chair back and slugged

Stone.

Stone grinned, big, primal. “Donkeys.”

“Two million dollars,” Rivera yelled out, “for

anyone who kills this bastard.”

“I’ll see you in hell,” Stone said.

Rivera’s attorneys wrestled him to his seat, and

the bailiff subdued Stone.

The bailiff wrestled Stone to the marble floor.

The bailiff wrestled Stone to the marble floor.

The judge pounded his gavel.

Several officers subdued Rivera.

And the press had caught the death threat on

tape.

The anger that had been driving him subsided.

Justice would be served for the Garcias, one way or
another.

Chapter Twelve

“That was Ms. Inamorata,” Kayla told Nate,

coming up behind him on the patio of their secluded
beach cottage. She slid her hands over his
shoulders, then down his chest, leaning into him.
“The jury returned a guilty verdict. Murder one.” She
gave him a good morning kiss on the side of his
neck.

He smelled of sunshine and an ocean breeze,

and he tasted of the bite of saltwater from his earlier
swim. Suddenly, she wanted to be back in bed with
him, his cock filling her the way it had earlier that
morning.

Their two days down here had been filled with

talking and sex. After their initial tension had ebbed,
the lack of adrenaline had dropped them on their
collective asses, and they’d slept for nearly twenty-
four hours straight.

“Stone?”

“She called him with the news right before

notifying us.” Then she answered the unasked
question, “She didn’t say how he is.” Didn’t say if he
was lonely in that house on the huge spread of land.
Didn’t say whether he missed them…the way they
missed him.

Neither she nor Nate had spoken much of

Stone. But they were hyperaware of his absence, of
the hole left in their lives and in their interaction with
one another. A piece of them seemed to be missing,
even though they enjoyed each other.

“Another swim?”

“Woman, you’re going to exhaust me. And then

I won’t be able to fuck you half the night.”

“I bet I could solve that problem.” She traced

her right hand lower, seeking his cock. Instantly, she
felt him swell in her grip. He turned and grabbed her.
She squealed as he shifted their positions, pulling
her over his knee.

He pulled up her oversized T-shirt, and moved

aside the crotch of her bikini bottom, fingering her
damp pussy.

She moved, and wiggled, and squirmed.

He found her clit, plumped it, then stroked it.

“Just what the hell do you two think you’re

doing?”

Nate froze.

She froze.

Stone?

She had no idea he even knew where they

were.

She heard the breeze through the palm trees

and the thunder of her own heartbeat.

“I asked a question.”

Tension oozed through her, slowing her blood

and her reaction time. She struggled to maneuver
enough to see him, but from her position, she could
only see his jean-clad calf. Nate, the torturous ass,
put a hand firmly on her back, preventing her from
moving.

“I was considering giving Kayla a spanking,”

Nate said.

“You were not!”

He gave her a quick, hard smack on the

buttocks to shut her up. She gasped.

“Yes, I was,” he said.

“And who gave you permission to spank my

sub?”

His sub?

Had someone spiked the orange juice?

“Both of you,” he said, his voice calm,

controlled, “on your knees.”

Her stomach plummeted.

She heard the quick, harsh sound of Nate

sucking in a deep, desperate breath.

As she’d recognized back at his ranch, Stone

being in control was the natural order of things.

This

was the natural order of things.

Neither she nor Nate protested, however. They

both simply followed orders. For her, she knew that
Stone’s arrival was exactly what she wanted.

Nate helped her from his lap into a standing

position. Her T-shirt fell into place around her thighs.
Her pussy was still damp. Even though she’d had
numerous orgasms with Nate since they arrived, she
was as needy as she’d been the first time Stone had
spanked her.

“We’ll be clear about one thing,” Stone said,

even as they both moved to follow his orders, “Any
physical punishment will be administered by me.”

“Yes, boss” Nate said.

“Or directed by me.” He looked at Nate. “It may

please me to see Fagan take a cat to your scrotum,
for example.”

He was a master of so many things. Even the

cadence of his voice was enough to make an
orgasm begin to build inside her.

“Your safe word, Davidson?”

“Yellow.”

Kayla knelt, spreading her legs wide.

“And yours?” he asked.

“Candy,” she said.

“Hands behind your neck,” he told her. “You

haven’t been giving her very good instructions,”
Stone said, “if she doesn’t know the proper position
to greet her Master.”

Her blood seemed to slow.

“Too busy fucking her to train her,” Nate said.

Since he was in position next to her, she

elbowed him in the gut.

“Oomph,”

She smiled sunnily.

“Is there a reason you’re not in position?”

Stone asked Nate.

“Sorry, boss.”

Good thing Nate wasn’t allowed to spank her,

otherwise, she’d really be in for it later.

“Let’s get one thing straight, shall we?” Stone

said.

She looked up at him.

“I’m here, and I’m not leaving.”

Her swimsuit bottom was suddenly drenched.

This was a dream coming true.

“Unless you’re both with me. Fagan, I’ll leave it

to you to figure out how to get your plants to
Colorado.”

Relief, happiness, joy flooded her. Her

shoulders fell forward as her body sagged. Tears
welled in her eyes.

“Back into position,” he snapped.

She struggled to contain her breathing and

follow his order. Her mind was reeling.

“Davidson, how much time do you need to take

care of your living situation?”

“Four, maybe five days, boss.”

“You’ve got three. Any questions?”

She had a dozen, maybe two. So she settled

She had a dozen, maybe two. So she settled

for the simplest and most complex, “Why?”

“Because I was going out of my mind.” He

squatted in front of her, and she noticed the slight
wince of pain that he tried to hide. So tough, yet
vulnerable, and, apparently, emotionally as well as
physically.

He propped his index finger beneath her chin,

tipping her head back a bit so he could capture her
gaze completely. She saw slight worry lines next to
his blue eyes. While she and Nate had rested, she
saw that Stone had not. No matter how hard she’d
been suffering, so had he. A wave of compassion
wrapped in love washed over her.

She couldn’t help herself. She knew she’d get

punished, knew she deserved it, and she leaned
forward, throwing her arms around his neck,
knocking him off balance. She rained kisses all over
him.

He laughed, the sound was exhilarating.

Tension was gone, swamped by raw emotion. He
had her beneath him, pinned to the ground, as he
claimed her mouth commandingly. His kiss held no
restraint, and expressed his urgency. It was such a
change from his normal self-control. Whatever she
felt for him, she realized, he returned. There was
nothing risky about this, because he was as
vulnerable as she.

He captured her breasts and tweaked her

nipples. “Now get your pretty little ass back where
it’s supposed to be.”

She bit his bottom lip. “Yes, Master.”

“Insolence,” he said. Then he stood, and he

looked at Nate.

Anyone would have to be blind not to see the

passion between them.

“You were right,” he said to Nate. His voice

was scratchy. Honest. “The house is too big.”

“That all, boss?”

“I need you.”

“Fuck me,” Nate begged.

“Oh, yeah. But first, both of you follow my

instructions. Fagan, I want you naked, but do not get
off your knees.”

He pulled a chair back from the table and

watched her pull the T-shirt over her head and then
struggle with her bikini bottom. She was aware of the
sway of her breasts as she twisted and lifted one
knee, then the other.

Finally, she was naked.

“You’ll be kept that way more often if you

decide to submit to me.”

Her pussy got moist. “That’s what I want,” she

admitted.

“And you’ll both be collared.”

She knew what that meant to him, for her, for

Nate. Her mouth dried. Previously, the thought had
repulsed and enticed her. Now, it thrilled her. Quietly,
she said, “Yes.”

“You,” he said to Nate, “stand and strip.”

Nate did, taking his time, obviously taunting

Stone, who definitely deserved it.

“Do you understand what I’m asking of you?”

“I’ll wear your collar, boss.”

“How long since you had your balls tortured?”

“Too long. Do me.”

“Bend over the table.”

She still marveled at the smoothness of Nate’s

responses, how quickly he moved to comply with his
Dom’s orders. She shivered, despite the warm,
Mexican air. It wouldn’t be long, she knew, before her
responses were like his.

“You’ll be next, Fagan,” Stone said, looking at

her, even as he stood and moved next to Nate. “Pay
attention, because when it’s your turn, we’ll be
seeing how much you’ve learned. It’ll go easier on
you if you’re obedient.”

Epilogue

“This time, we’ll be adding an element,” Stone

said, cupping Nate’s balls.

Nate’s breath coagulated in a lump at the base

of his throat. He honestly hadn’t believed Stone
would come. They hadn’t said good-bye after the
court date. Kayla and other members of the team
had hustled him back to Cold Creek Ranch while
Nate had been tied up with the Denver authorities.

Stone had willingly let Kayla go later that night.

She and Nate had met up at a hotel room near the
airport. Bravely fighting back her tears, she’d told
him they’d be okay without Stone. Both of them had
recognized the lie.

Nate hadn’t been surprised that Stone let her

go, but he’d been hurt. He believed they mattered to
Stone, but obviously, not as much as he’d hoped.

Now, he realized, he hadn’t been wrong.

Stone cared. It had just taken losing them both

to galvanize his actions.

Stone pulled down on Nate’s testicles.

He sucked in a breath, but then forced himself

to give up, give in, surrender to the scene. If he

fought it, the pain would be too intense.

His cock was hard, throbbing insistently.

“Legs a bit farther apart.”

He moved into position.

Everything but Stone and the sensations he

evoked faded away.

The sound of the surf receded. Even the picture

of sweet, sexy Kayla, naked and on her knees,
became more distant.

“Do you need to be tied?”

The pressure on his balls intensified.

“Davidson?”

He shook his head.

“Safe word?”

It didn’t matter. He’d never use it. Whatever his

Dom wanted him to experience, Nate knew he
wanted it, too. Stone never lost control. Nate trusted
that. This scene would unfold more intensely than any
other ever had. Instinctively, he knew that. There’d
been too much hurt for the scene to be typical. Stone
needed to apologize, in his own way. He needed to
take Nate to a place he’d never been.

“Safe word?” Stone prompted.

“Yellow,” he whispered.

Stone manipulated his balls lower in their sack.

Nate reached across the table, grabbing the

far side. This way, he could let go more.

He was aware of his vulnerability. His nuts

were in the vise of the larger, stronger man’s grip.

The thought, more than scaring him, thrilled

him.

Stone pressed his thumb to that tender area

between his anus and scrotum. The nerve endings
fired off sensations of pleasure. His cock jutted
forward helplessly.

“Ready?”

He took a couple of breaths.

Instead of squeezing his balls together, Stone

slapped the taut sack.

Nate jerked. His head came off the table.

Kayla’s faint gasp penetrated his haze.

“You took that well,” Stone said.

Nate drank a gulp of the humid air.

Nate drank a gulp of the humid air.

“Maybe another five?”

Another five? For a total of six? But he knew

Stone wouldn’t proceed without his consent. The
feeling of pain and pleasure was intense. He’d never
felt anything like it before.

In silent answer, he moved back into position,

but he grasped the edge of the table a bit harder.

The next spank wasn’t as shocking, but it was

even harder, even more intense.

Stone waited.

Nate remained silent.

The second made his toes curl.

Although he didn’t release his hold, Stone

pressed a finger against Nate’s anus.

He was going out of his mind.

Suddenly, Stone pulled away his finger, and

used his hand to deliver another slap on Nate’s balls.

He loved this man.

His knees weakened.

Stone delivered another. Nate gave a

strangled cry when Stone slapped him a final time

“Your cock looks beautiful,” Stone said. “What

would it take to make you come? Three strokes?”

“Being touched,” he admitted. Just having a

hand curled around his cock would be enough.

“Stay there,” Stone told him, “in position, until

you’re more under control.”

His head spun. Not only had Stone delivered

the most intense experience of his life, he just had to
stand there until the need to ejaculate abated.

“I’m going to release your balls,” he said,

“slowly.”

Nate took several controlled breaths as Stone

let him go.

“Put your hands behind your neck,” Stone told

him.

He complied, meaning his whole body weight

was supported on top of the table.

Then he heard Stone tell Kayla, “Now as for

you…”

And her breathless response… “Yes?”

* * * * *

For Wolf Stone, life didn’t get any better.

Of course, it had sucked pretty damn bad

before it had gotten better.

After Fagan and the other members of

Hawkeye had left, he’d been at Cold Creek Ranch
by himself. Every room he’d been in had reminded
him of Davidson and Fagan.

He’d climbed on a four-wheeler for most of a

day, riding fence line, trying to exhaust himself.

He’d gone to bed and tossed and turned,

unable to sleep. Fagan’s feminine scent had clung to
one of his pillows, and the discarded clothes
Davidson had left behind had made him needy.

Staring at the ceiling, his thoughts had spun

back in time. Having Davidson walk out once had
been hard enough. He’d be an idiot to let it happen a
second time.

He had his privacy, his space… For what?

To wake up alone?

To rattle around eight hundred acres by

himself?

To drink coffee in front of the fireplace with no

one to talk to?

He realized the pain of being alone was

greater than the risk of being hurt.

What could be better, really, than two greedy,

needy subs who put him at the center of their
desires?

It had taken some fancy talking to find out

where Davidson and Fagan had headed, and then
some fancier talking to secure the use of Hawkeye’s
private jet. He intended to stay down here with his
subs for at least a week, and he wasn’t sure he’d be
able to carry on all his implements of punishment on
a commercial flight, but Hawkeye didn’t need to
know that part.

He wanted to make sure both of them knew

how much he wanted them. “Fagan?”

To her credit, even though she looked up, she

stayed in position. He’d never tell her, but he
appreciated her unabashed greeting. He’d been a
little hesitant when he’d walked through the front door
of the beach cottage. He’d been fairly confident of a
good reception, yet that had been far from a
certainty. He wouldn’t have blamed either of them for
telling him to fuck off. Lucky for him, neither held a
grudge. “You’re going to take Davidson and I at the
same time.”

“Okay,” she said. She licked her bottom lip a

bit nervously. “One in my…”

“Cunt,” he supplied. “And me in your ass.”

She glanced at his crotch, and her eyes

widened.

“I’ve told you that would happen.”

She nodded.

“I’ll prepare you.” He looked at Davidson. His

cock was still thick. It’d look good filling Fagan.
“Meet me in the bedroom. My travel bag has lube
and condoms in it.”

She stood slowly. She didn’t question his

orders, and her movements were feminine as she
grabbed his travel bag and walked into the house.

To Davidson, he said, “Come here.”

He appreciated the sight of his lover as

Davidson did as he was asked. He stopped bare
inches from where Stone stood. Stone grabbed
Davidson and kissed him hard.

“Welcome home,” Davidson said with a smile.

Oh, yeah. Coming here had definitely been the

right decision.

They found Fagan sitting on the edge of the

bed, nervously rolling the tube between her palms.
“We’ll be patient,” he told her. “Lie back.”

While she did that, he took the lube from her,

dropped it onto the nightstand, and pulled off his
clothes. Davidson put a condom on his dick; then he
climbed on the bed and began to kiss her. Stone
positioned himself between her legs and licked her
cunt, sucking on the nubbin of her clit.

She arched and thrashed, closing in quickly on

an orgasm. “She’s greedy,” Stone said.

“Insatiable,” Davidson complained. “I’m glad

you’re here. I couldn’t keep up.”

Stone chuckled.

He flipped her over and immediately felt the

tension in her body. “That’ll make it worse,” he said.
“On your knees, forehead on the mattress, arms
behind your neck again.” Then he scowled. “Actually,
Davidson, over here.”

He issued instructions until Davidson was

beneath her, his arms wrapped around her middle.
While Stone lubed her, Davidson would be eating
her out. Nice solution all around, except for the
temptation of Davidson’s erect cock in Stone’s face.

“I want you to relax,” he told her. “Even when it’s

difficult, I want you to surrender to Davidson and
bear down against my fingers.” When she nodded,
he spread her cheeks. “Keep your ass high,” he
said. He squirted lube near her opening, then added

more to his fingers. “While Davidson licks you, I’m
going to work a finger inside you.”

The idea of taking her there, made his cock

thicken and lengthen. He loved introducing his subs
to new sensations. He still had one or two more
surprises for the remainder of their vacation.

She became still and all but stopped breathing

when he pressed a fingertip to her anal whorl.
Davidson, to his credit, simply inserted a finger in
her pussy. She mewed and moved against him, and
Stone took advantage of her distraction to push past
her sphincter in a single motion.

She gasped. “Ow!”

“You did well,” he told her. “You took my finger.”

Before she protested more, he slid his finger all the
way out, then pushed it back in.

He and Davidson found a rhythm that she liked,

and while she rode both of them, he stretched her,
slipping in another digit.

She started to wiggle, trying to get away. He

slapped her buttock soundly. “Ugh,” she protested.

But he was relentless, finger fucking her ass,

stretching her hole wide to accommodate his girth.

He could tell from her sounds and movements

that she was near an orgasm, so he gently lifted her,

helping her ease onto Davidson’s already-sheathed
cock.

“Damn,” Davidson said. “You’re tight. And I’m

ready to explode.”

Maybe it had been a bit unfair to deny the man

his orgasm outside. But when he did come, it would
be even more powerful.

“I’m nervous,” she admitted.

From his position behind her, he kissed her

neck. Davidson pulled her down to kiss her. That
angle was quite convenient for Stone; it tilted her
body, exposing her ass to him completely.

He unrolled a condom onto his cock; then he

squeezed a liberal dollop of lube into his palm and
coated himself with it. She was slick on the inside,
and her body was ripe for him.

He held his cock in one hand, positioning its

head at her opening. “You’ll want to bear down,” he
told her. Since she tensed up again, he fingered her,
while Davidson encouraged her to ride him.

He sucked in a breath as he began to enter her

ass. Pushing past her sphincter was almost enough
to make him come. On the flight to Mexico, he’d
fantasized about this moment. Reality was even
better.

“I…” Whatever she was going to say was lost

as Davidson captured her mouth.

“Bear down,” he instructed, then pushed deep.

She arched up and cried out.

“You’re there,” he told her.

“Fuck! You’re going to split me in two.”

He was lost in his own thoughts. She was so

tight, and the feel of Davidson inside her, as well…
He dragged himself back under control. “Do you
need me to stop?”

She wiggled around.

He gritted his teeth.

“No,” she said. “It hurts. But I want you both to

fuck me. I want to belong to both of you.”

Over her shoulder, he met Davidson’s gaze.

How the hell had he nearly let stubbornness

stand in the way of this? Stubbornness? More like
stupidity.

She pushed back against him, as if seeking

more.

Together, he and Davidson fucked her hard,

both of them claiming her, and through her, each

both of them claiming her, and through her, each
other.

“I…I need to come,” she said.

When he didn’t say anything, he saw her

shoulders tense up, as if she fought to stave it off.
“Take it,” he told her. Damn… How had he gotten so
lucky?

He bit her shoulder.

She screamed.

He felt the shudders of her orgasm; then he

said to Davidson, “You, too.”

The feelings of both of them rippling with their

orgasms made him heady and humble. He took his
own release, pulsing deep inside her ass.

Long minutes later, all of them spent, they lay

together in a tangle on the bed. She was between
them, all of their bodies slick with sweat and
satisfaction.

“Stone?” she asked.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t leave us.” Her fingers tangled in his hair,

dislodging the strip of leather that tied it back.

He turned her toward him and kissed her. “Not

on your life.” Then he reached across the bed to
capture Davidson’s nuts. “Or yours, either.”

“All yours, boss,” he said, unmoving.

Stone had both of them exactly where he

wanted them. By tomorrow, he’d have them both in
his collar. And by next week…in his home with him
forever.

THE END

Sierra Cartwright

Born in Northern England and raised in the

Wild West, Sierra Cartwright pens book that are as
wild and untamed as the Rockies she calls home.

She's an award-winning, multi-published writer

who wrote her first book at age nine and hasn't
stopped since. Sierra invites you to share the
complex journey of love and desire, of surrender,
submission, and commitment.

Her own journey has taught her that trusting

takes guts and courage, and her work is a
celebration for everyone who is willing to take that
risk.

If you’d like to encourage Sierra Cartwright to

tell us more, she would love to hear from you. Feel
free to email her at [e-mail], or
check

out

her

website

at

http://www.sierracartwright.com.