Theirs to Cherish

Chapter Eleven





WHEN Callie heard Thorpe shout her real name, her heart screeched to a stop. He knew? She turned, still backing away, tangled up in his gray eyes. How? When? What had given her away?

Damn it, his life had just become twenty times more complicated—and dangerous. She didn’t want that for him.

Stricken, she shook her head, struggling to take in air. “You’re wrong. That’s not me.”

Thorpe approached her in long, determined steps, his face granite, his hand outstretched. Behind him, Sean, that deceitful snake, charged toward her like a train with a headful of steam. She spun around and darted away again. What the hell was he doing here? With Thorpe? She couldn’t allow either of them to get their hands on her.

Callie raced for the cab fifty feet away, still idling at the corner and waiting for the light to turn green. Dressed only in a bra and a little short skirt, she could probably get his attention. Maybe. In this neighborhood, maybe not. Good thing she had money in her thong. She’d have to pick up her “go” bag at the motel, lay low for a while, then find a bus station . . .


“Don’t you lie to me,” Thorpe shouted out to her. “And don’t run!”

“Don’t believe Sean,” she tossed over her shoulder.

“That nick on your left hip came from a bullet, delivered when your family’s killer shot at you. I felt it with my own f*cking fingers.”

Two Decembers ago, when he’d touched her intimately. That explained so much, like why after so many passionate kisses, each an exquisite promise, he’d walked away without a word and left her aching. And why he’d cut off nearly all romantic or sexual contact since.

For the past two years, Thorpe had never even hinted that he knew the truth. And despite the stupidly huge bounty on her head, he had never turned her in, either.

Sean would the moment she stood still. She’d seen his badge at Glitter Girls. Obviously, she’d been wrong about him. He might not be an assassin trying to kill her or a bounty hunter out for a quick payday, but he’d damn sure arrest her the first chance he got.

“Stop!” Thorpe thundered.

His footsteps drew closer and closer, but she didn’t dare heed his words. “Let me go.”

“Never.”

At the iron resolve in his tone, Callie’s heart roared harder. She glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, he was closing in—fast. And now, Sean was nowhere in sight. It didn’t matter. She was nearly to the taxi . . .

With maybe ten steps to go, she landed on a rock. It gouged her heel, slicing the skin open. The sting screamed up her leg. She tried not to let the pain stop her, but when she slammed that foot down on the asphalt again, the pebble embedded deeper in her skin. The sharp ache nearly made her crumple to the ground. She slowed, hobbled, until Thorpe was nearly on top of her.

Panicked, Callie opened her mouth to scream to the taxi driver—to anyone who would listen. Sean jumped out from behind a Dumpster and clamped one arm around her waist like a vise. The other he bracketed over her mouth.

“Stop!” he panted.

His breath was warm on her face, his body like a furnace against her chilled skin, now sheened with perspiration. Her senses registered succor and safety. They wanted to melt into him. They yearned for his gentle touch, his fiery kiss . . .

Every one of which had been a lie.

Her brain screeched that she should pry herself away and run. Callie bucked wildly so she could free her mouth and tell Sean to go to hell. But he held tight. Thorpe blanketed her back, bracing his hands on her hips. She tried to stand strong and defiant, but he wrapped his suit coat around her shoulders both to warm and immobilize her. Immediately, the garment steeped her in his body heat. Their hot breaths caressed her skin. Their heady masculine scents swirled together as their taut bodies surrounded her.

“Don’t move,” Thorpe growled. “You’re in enough trouble as it is.”

She shivered at those words. Then, mere feet in front of her, the taxi dashed away, taking with it her only avenue of escape.

Finally, Sean slowly drew his hand away from her lips, staring down at her with blue eyes, piercing her despite the crappy lighting and shadows. She steeled her heart against his once beloved face. She’d always associated him with patience and gentle care. Now she knew he was a con artist with a badge, callous enough to steal her heart just to bring her in.

“Take your f*cking hands off me.”

Face tightening with displeasure, Sean narrowed his eyes at her. “Looking to add to your punishment, lovely? I don’t recommend it. Your ass is already going to be sore.”

“You and your former fake accent can go eat shit. I took my collar off, so you have no business touching me.”

“That’s not precisely how it works, Callie, and you know it,” Thorpe murmured in her ear.

She turned her head to the man she’d once trusted and loved above all others. “You’re on his side now? I never imagined that you’d be gullible enough to fall for his lines, too.”

Behind her, Thorpe leaned around to look at Sean. “There won’t be any reasoning with her in the next ten minutes.”

Sean grunted. “Or in the next millennium, I imagine. This isn’t a smart place to talk.”

“Good point.”

“Stay with her. I’ll bring the car.”

She could all but feel Thorpe smile. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t go anywhere.”

Callie’s jaw dropped. When the hell had they gotten so chummy? And why did Thorpe trust the liar?

With her head still reeling, Sean jogged off. She struggled against Thorpe’s grip, holding out hope that another taxi would zoom by. But even if she was lucky enough for that, she didn’t think she could outrun him with her foot smarting.

“Why are you helping that rat?” She’d always believed that Thorpe would be on her side, and knowing otherwise felt as if someone had pried her heart from her chest with a crowbar. “He wants to see me in prison.”

“Sean wants to protect you, pet. Just like I do. Don’t look at me like that,” he demanded. “You didn’t ask any questions before you jumped to conclusions. You just ran away. And you were dead wrong.”

“He fooled you like he fooled me.”

“If he’d wanted to arrest you, he could have done it anytime over the last seven months,” Thorpe reasoned. “He could have brought in a small army of agents and let them haul you out. I wouldn’t have been able to stop them. If you think he’s in an all-fired hurry to lock you up and throw away the key, ask yourself why he hasn’t already done it.”

Callie tried. There was logic in what Thorpe was saying, but she’d been running for so long. Her flight response was so ingrained. Panic still pumped through her system. The thought niggled in the back of her head . . . What if Thorpe was wrong?

“Pet.” His low voice soothed. “Think about it.”

“Then why didn’t he tell me he was some sort of agent?”

“Because you would have run immediately if you’d discovered he was FBI. We all know that, especially Sean. You don’t trust well, Callie, and we understand the reasons. But things are going to change now. Neither of us will ever risk you. If we haven’t turned you in for two million dollars yet, we’re not likely to.”

Headlights bobbed up the worn alley before a silver Jeep she didn’t recognize stopped beside them. Sean stuck his head out the window. “Someone already called the police. They’re two blocks over. Get in.”

As Callie’s blood ran cold, Thorpe cursed and shoved her toward the vehicle. She dug in her heels.

“Callie!” Thorpe growled. “Get in the f*cking car.”

She probably stood a better chance of eluding the local police than the FBI. She might be able to convince the Vegas PD that she was the victim of some random attack in this alley. It was possible they’d release her before they figured out who she was, and she’d be long gone before the truth hit them.

But that would leave Thorpe . . . where? In jail? And what about Sean? If he really wasn’t trying to turn her in for the cash or a pat on the back at work . . . The implications were staggering. Would the police think the guys had kidnapped her or something? What if they couldn’t get away? What if she couldn’t? A million thoughts raced through her head, and she couldn’t quite grasp any of them. On the one hand, she’d relied on herself for so long, she didn’t really know how to relinquish her control. On the other hand, as Thorpe had pointed out, they hadn’t given her up or let anyone haul her away, so why would they start now?

Crap, she wasn’t sure what to do.

“Trust me, Callie,” Sean stared at her through the driver’s side window. He held out one hand to her, his earnest expression willing her to believe him. “Whatever you think, I swear that I’m not here now because of my job. I would do anything to keep you safe.”

His words made her melt a little more than they should. Gawd, she wanted to believe him so badly. If she was wrong and she climbed into that SUV, it could mean the end of her freedom. She hadn’t managed to elude capture for this long because she made decisions with her heart.

A shout from Glitter Girls’ parking lot had her head zipping around and her gaze trying to penetrate the dark and distance. Thorpe, however, just lost his patience.

With a grunt, he picked her up, yanked open the door to the backseat, and tossed her in. She braced herself on the leather bench, scrambling to the far side of the SUV as Thorpe jumped in and slammed the door.

Callie didn’t like any of this—too sudden, no time to think. She didn’t run off with other people. She’d managed to escape the fateful night her family had been killed and she was still alive today because she’d stayed one step ahead of the cops and killers after her. She wasn’t about to drag Thorpe through the mud. And she was still on the fence about whether to believe Sean.

Lunging for the passenger door on the far side of the car, Callie grabbed the handle, preparing to tumble out into the chilly November evening again and dash the distance to . . . somewhere. Wherever Thorpe and Sean weren’t.

Sean merely locked the doors to the car, killed the headlights, then rocketed into the night. At the first corner, he flipped on the headlights again and merged into traffic, blending in with every other car chasing Lady Luck on the Vegas streets.


“Are you insane?” she shrieked at Thorpe. “Do you understand what will happen if the authorities find out that you’re knowingly aiding a fugitive’s escape? It was one thing when you could say I lied to you. Then you could have been the victim. Then you wouldn’t have gone to jail.” She glared at Sean in the driver’s seat. “And if you’re not going to arrest me, do you realize that you could lose your job? What the hell are you two doing?”

“You want to take this one?” Sean looked at his new “pal” in the rearview mirror. “I need to make sure we’re not being followed and try to decide where we can go from here.”

“With pleasure.”

“Good. I have a feeling our time is short. Did you already pack up everything in your room and put your belongings in the car?”

“I did.”

“That makes two of us. Carry on.”

Thorpe nodded at him, then turned to her with a Dom glower so menacing she found herself inching back until the car door ensured that she had nowhere else to go.

Callie gulped. “What? I-I took care of myself. I couldn’t very well expect the two of you to—”

“Be reasonably concerned human beings who wanted to keep you happy and safe? Talk to the two men who will always put your welfare above everything else?”

Damn it, he was determined to make her feel somewhere between stupid and irresponsible. “Sean was a liar. How was I supposed to know he wouldn’t turn me in?”

“I’m sorry for the subterfuge, lovely. But I had to create a cover to get into the club and keep everyone from getting suspicious, especially you.”

And didn’t she feel like an idiot for falling for it—and him? “Great job, Mr. Kirkpatrick. You had me fooled.”

“Mackenzie,” he corrected. “Sean Mackenzie is my real name. Here.” He passed her a little leather case. She flipped it over as he turned on the interior light.

Callie clutched the document in her hand and read it with a sense of something between OMG and holy shit. It was true. Sean Mackenzie truly was a Special Agent for the FBI. She passed his credentials back with numb fingers. He grabbed it and killed the interior light.

Then darkness settled around her, leaving her to battle her thoughts again. Holy shit finally beat out OMG as her final reaction. And anger that she’d been duped. Apparently he’d done it without much difficulty and probably even less regret.

“I guess that’s why you were able to give Axel a black eye.” What else was there to say?

“I taught hand-to-hand combat for the bureau for two years.”

Which meant that he was damn good at it. And here she’d thought he didn’t have a violent bone in his body. Callie snorted. That proved she had almost no clue about him. In fact, there were probably a thousand other facts about Sean Kirkpatrick—or Mackenzie, rather—that she didn’t know. “Who are you? Obviously, I don’t know.”

“You do.” His voice was so soft, compelling her to believe him. “Everything except my name and occupation was the real me. I never lied about how I felt.”

She wanted to believe him. But the truth was, she’d fallen for a charming smile, a fake brogue, and a whole lot of smooth lines. If his tenderness and caring had seemed like more, well . . . wasn’t that the point of winning her trust and breaking her barriers down? “Whatever.”

“It’s a lot more than ‘whatever,’ Callie. I swear to you.”

“Even if finding out that Sean wasn’t who he claimed, that doesn’t excuse you for running off without talking to me, pet,” Thorpe jumped in. “What’s your justification there?”

“I didn’t think you knew who I was, so I tried to keep you from this mess. Was I supposed to guess that you cared about me?”

She hadn’t thought it possible, but his face became even more forbidding. “Don’t you ever say that to me again. I sheltered you for four years, Callie. I tried to teach you, help you, comfort you. What part of that indicated to you that I didn’t give a shit?”

“I knew you cared as a friend, but I didn’t think you—” She tried to untangle her thoughts as he leaned across the seat toward her. “The night you . . . that it seemed like we were going to . . . you know.” She still hated thinking about that humiliating event. “Then you just walked away and never explained, never touched me again, so—”

“Because I didn’t f*ck you, you imagined that I didn’t care anymore?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” She shrugged. “I might have believed that a lover would go out on a limb for me, but not merely a boss or a friend.”

“There are so many things wrong with that statement.” Thorpe cursed, shaking his head.

“Being your lover clearly didn’t give me any extra perks in the trust department,” Sean piped up from the front seat. “In fact, I think you gave me even less than Thorpe.”

“Well, yeah,” Callie defended hotly. “Everything between us was pretense and bullshit. Don’t try to convince me that I’ve wronged you.”

“He’s not telling his superiors that you’ve run or that his cover is blown because he’s trying to minimize the chances that the FBI will suddenly want you brought in.”

Maybe that was true. Even if it was, she wasn’t ready to be less angry. No, hurt. Damn it. “So I’m supposed to thank you for your kind lies? Was it difficult to get hard on command? Was f*cking me a chore?”

Sean slapped his palm against the steering wheel. “That’s it. I’ve had enough. Thorpe . . .”

“On it,” he assured the other man. “We’re done with your lack of trust.”

“And your bratty mouth,” Sean added. “Don’t forget that.”

“Absolutely,” Thorpe agreed. “You will apologize this instant to both of us.”

“Like hell! You two don’t like the way I communicate. Guess what? Your style sucks, too. You lie.” She pointed at Sean, then turned her stare on Thorpe. “And you clam up.”

Thorpe grabbed her by the arm. “You’ve refused to rely on the men determined to help you.”

“I didn’t ask for help,” she pointed out.

“You’ve refused to apologize, and you’ve insulted us.”

“You insulted me, too. Because I’m going to defend myself, I’m bratty?” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not the only one slinging words around here.”

“I might have lied, lovely, but I didn’t drug you,” Sean reminded darkly.

“Neither of us stripped for a room full of scum. And it was your third shift in two days?” Thorpe raised an intimidating brow at her.

A gong of foreboding resounded in her gut. Shit, they’d done their legwork. Sometimes, she lost her temper and forgot important details . . . like being at the mercy of two pissed off Doms. Of course, Thorpe probably wouldn’t punish her. In fact, he’d probably never touch her again. But he’d sure give Sean lots of craptastic ideas about how to do it effectively.

“I wasn’t enjoying myself. I was making money.”

“To skip town, right?” Thorpe’s question was sharp as a blade.

“It’s what I do.”

“Along with driving us out of our f*cking minds,” Sean growled.

“It wasn’t intended to be a personal affront!” she insisted.

“So we were supposed to shrug that you’d left and move on with our lives. Do you know how worried we’ve been?” her former boss asked.

“Oh my gawd, you both sound like overprotective hens.”

Callie braced for Thorpe’s explosion. Instead, he drew in a bracing breath, nostrils flaring, then with a taut profile and rigidly controlled body, he directed his gaze to the front seat. “Sean, reasoning with her isn’t going to work.”

“Agreed. Go ahead. I need to focus here, but I’ve had more than enough.”

“Excellent. Minus the gloves?”

He sighed. “I doubt anything less will register.”

“I couldn’t agree more. It’s bound to get noisy.”

Sean smiled faintly. “I’ll enjoy that.”

He glanced at her in the mirror at the same time Thorpe regarded her with a frightening smile. Callie felt like an actress who’d forgotten her lines, pinned by a spotlight.

“Apologize, pet.”

It wasn’t a suggestion. But there was no way she was going to say “sorry” for doing what she thought necessary. “I’m sorry if whatever I did upset you.”

“And?” Thorpe’s grip on her arm tightened.

“I’m sorry if I misinterpreted your actions.”

“Anything else?” His voice dropped to a silky baritone that served as its own warning. “Anything you’d like to say to Sean?”

Callie’s belly tightened, but she refused to lie. “No, I think that’s it.”

“Then it’s obvious we need to lay down a few rules and expectations.” Thorpe settled against the backseat, legs braced wide, then grabbed her shoulders and gave a mighty jerk until she tumbled face down across his lap.


“Oh hell, no!” She writhed, trying to twist upright again.

Like that was going to help. He’d dealt with a thousand squirming submissives. There would be no escape. She already knew that from experience.

Expertly, he splayed a hand in the middle of her back, pinning her to his lap. “Hell, yes. It’s past due, pet. You’ve more than earned it. Your attitude needs serious adjusting.”

Thorpe punctuated his assertion by lifting her little skirt, yanking the bills out of her thong and throwing them on the floorboard, then giving her right cheek a quick, blistering swat. Before she’d even finished gasping, he spanked the left. Ouch! Her ass stung. Heat flared. And not for one second did she think that he was done.

“From now on,” he began, “you will keep uppermost in your mind that anything that affects you concerns us. We care. Is that clear?”

Even if she was a little thrilled at the conviction in his words and more than a bit excited at the way he restrained and handled her, Callie wanted to tell him to jump off a bridge. She was about to say something satisfyingly dismissive when he smacked the flat of his hand against each of her cheeks again. A yelp slipped from her mouth.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” A smirk resonated in his voice

Damn him!

“You will never leave our sight without proper permission. If you ever run away again without doing the courtesy of talking to us both, your ass will be a glowing shade of red for a month, I promise.”

Was he serious? “I don’t need babysitters.”

“Since you could have gotten yourself molested in that terrible club or in the f*cking alley behind it, if not for us, I’m going to disagree.”

“But I didn’t.”

“I didn’t give you permission to speak.” Thorpe’s voice dropped another octave.

Another few swats to her backside had her flesh stinging again . . . and her p-ssy weeping. Why did Thorpe’s discipline always turn her on? Why couldn’t she hate him for it and tell him to go to hell?

“And lovely? There will be no drugging anyone, no taking your clothes off for strangers, and absolutely no lying,” Sean insisted from the front seat. His voice held a harsh, authoritarian edge she’d never heard from him before.

“If you remove so much as a shoe in front of another man without our permission, you will feel my wrath.”

And to prove his point, Thorpe rained a series of short, sharp blows down on her backside, one after the other. Callie couldn’t stop the gasps, the moans. Her blood felt like it had caught fire. Her skin burned. Still, Thorpe kept at her ass, pounding one wallop after another on her vulnerable backside until she thought she would melt all over him. She barely reined in the urge to cry out in pleasure.

“Mine, too,” Sean vowed. “You’re likely to feel it as soon as I don’t need to focus on the road, in fact.”

Well, wasn’t that something to look forward to?

“I didn’t give either of you permission to touch me,” she pointed out.

“Lousy attempt, pet,” he tsked at her. “You just keep digging a deeper hole.”

“I gave him permission,” Sean clarified. “And I don’t care if you think you removed your collar. We didn’t talk about it. You decided without consulting me. Last time I checked, you weren’t the Dominant in this relationship.”

“This is ridiculous. I’m not a possession.”

“No, but you’re a submissive in need of a great deal of discipline. I have no problem giving it to you, pet.”

“I have no problem either, Callie. I was too easy on you before. That’s going to change,” Sean promised.

Her heart lurched. They absolutely meant business, and a bit of her really wanted to let them take her under their wing and rely on them for her safety. If she wasn’t Callindra Howe, she might dip her toe in the water. Okay, so she’d probably dive in. But that wasn’t her reality.

“The hell it is! I only managed to stay free for nine years because I never got sentimental. I leave everything and everyone behind and sever all ties once I’m gone. Thorpe, it’s not that I don’t believe you’d do everything possible to keep me safe. But I can’t let you ruin your life. I left because I’m trying to do the right thing so you can get back to normalcy.”

“He didn’t ask you to throw yourself on the sword, lovely.” Sean’s voice softened before it hardened again. “Neither did I. We won’t let you cast either of us aside because you think it’s ‘safer.’ What you’re really doing is being stingy with your trust and protecting your heart. I won’t have it.”

“Nor will I,” Thorpe added. “I might have been your boss and your friend, but you’re lying to me and yourself if you think we weren’t more.”

Was he finally admitting there was something between them? Callie closed her eyes. What crappy timing . . .

“So?” she tossed back. “You ignored it yourself for years.”

“I did,” he admitted. “And I’m done.”

Her heated ass throbbed in the cool night, and she felt Thorpe’s stare on her bare skin. The yearning nearly choked her, but this wasn’t just about her. She couldn’t stand to see them get sucked into the morass her life had become.

Callie figured she could play this one of two ways: either keep fighting tooth and nail and get her ass beat more for her defiance or give in until they let their guard down. Then she’d run again. Sean hadn’t asked her to throw herself on the sword, and well . . . she hadn’t asked him for that either. If he really had been protecting her and was here against his orders, she couldn’t let him jeopardize his job any more than she could risk being involved with an FBI agent. And she refused to gamble her heart on Thorpe, one of the most emotionally unavailable men she’d ever met. No good would come from that.

“Yes, Sirs.”

Above her, Thorpe stilled. “I don’t know whether to praise your breakthrough or wail on your ass again for lying.”

“I think I know,” Sean quipped.

“I think I do, too. But time will tell. Just for good measure . . .” Thorpe palmed the burning flesh of her backside, then spanked her again with unyielding discipline before jerking her skirt down and sitting her on the long seat beside him. “Behave, pet.”

She fidgeted from the stinging burn making her skin tingle and couldn’t sit still.

“Thorpe, is the naughty girl’s p-ssy wet?”

He zipped his gaze up toward Sean, who met it in the rearview mirror. No words were exchanged, but Thorpe must have seen what he wanted because he nodded and sat back with a little smile playing at the corners of his lips before he turned to her.

Callie’s eyes widened. In what alternate universe was Sean going to let her former boss even think about her girl parts? Punishment was one thing, especially while he was driving, but . . . The thought of Thorpe’s hand right where she ached for him most made her * swell and sizzle. He turned and pinned her with a feral stare.

She shook her head, knowing she looked more than a tad panicked. “No.”

If he got near her, he’d know she had just lied to him again. There would be more punishment. But the truth was too embarrassing.

“Spread your legs and let me feel for myself, pet.”

Oh hell. She flipped her stare up to the rearview mirror, hoping to catch’s Sean’s disapproving scowl. Despite the spanking and his question, he wouldn’t really let Thorpe touch her there, would he?

She did snag Sean’s gaze, but he merely looked at her expectantly. “We’re waiting.”

“And not patiently,” Thorpe drawled.

Callie’s heart started beating harder. Her silky thong was already beyond damp and wasn’t going to absorb any of the excess moisture. Even in the darkened backseat, Thorpe would see if she tried to use her skirt to wipe away the evidence.

She pressed her lips together and frowned. “All right, I am.”

“So you lied?” Damn, that Dom voice of his went straight to her *. The ache coiled up.

A few possible responses ran through her head, but she’d seen Thorpe operate enough to know that excuses wouldn’t work. Compounding things with another lie would only make her eventual punishment—and there would be one—worse. So she settled on the only thing that might persuade him to show a little bit of mercy.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m confused. I was . . . ashamed.”

He grabbed her chin. “Explain.”

Shouldn’t it be obvious? “You haven’t touched me in two years, except the night after Sean and I, um . . .”

“Made love,” he supplied from the front seat oh so helpfully.

“That was the night you came under my tongue and fingers.” Thorpe stared into her eyes, forcing her to remember the way she’d writhed for him and screamed his name.

Mortification froze Callie. Would Sean be mad? Or would this weird alternate universe where he and Thorpe were having some bizarre bromance continue and lead Sean to do something once incomprehensible, like high-five the Dungeon Master?

She cleared her throat. “Other than that, you’ve shown almost no sexual interest in me for so long. It’s kind of embarrassing that your spanking, um . . . aroused me.”


Thorpe looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. After a long pause, he simply glanced at her thighs. “Spread them. I won’t ask again.”

“You’re really going to check?” She blinked at him, then back up at Sean in the mirror.

“I asked him to, lovely.”

“So yes,” Thorpe provided, then looked at her impatiently.

Her heart chugged like a herd of wild horses. It had been one thing to spread her legs for Thorpe when she thought it had been good-bye, when she thought she’d never have to see the knowing gleam in his eyes again or worry that he thought her a silly, inexperienced girl for being so easily excited by him. Now . . . she got the feeling that he intended to plow his fingers through her feminine folds and enjoy the hell out of her response. For her hesitation, he’d only want to arouse her more, bask in her helpless reaction to him.

Would she rather have more punishment or more embarrassment? The former would only lead to more of the latter, so she might as well get this shit over with. It wasn’t like she had any way of preventing him from tying her down and doing whatever he wanted to her p-ssy the minute they made it out of this car and found a flat surface.

Slowly, Callie parted her thighs until her knees were as wide as her hips. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, and realized that every hang-up about sex she’d ever had was coming back to haunt her.

Her father had never talked about the taboo subject. Holden may have been her first, but the fumbling in his backyard that early fall evening hadn’t taught her a lot except that losing her virginity hurt. She’d tried casual sex once over the years with Xander. She’d wanted Thorpe so badly and hadn’t known how else to get his attention. Thirty seconds and one fake orgasm later, she’d called it off, knowing that she couldn’t bring herself to f*ck one man when she wanted another. Xander had been fine with ending it, too, leaving her to wonder if she lacked sex appeal altogether. Then came Sean. He’d given her a pleasure so excruciating, Callie still caught her breath just thinking about it. She hadn’t ever known such ecstasy existed. And she’d craved him since. But Thorpe? Gawd, she was almost afraid to discover all the ways he could turn her body inside out.

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

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

“Please what, pet?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A little.”

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

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

“Thank you.” She sniffled.

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

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

“Blood?” he questioned sharply.

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

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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