Masters of the Shadowlands 8 - If only (31 page)

Nolan stopped, way too close.

Sally felt her muscles tighten; the memory of being backhanded was awfully clear still.

A corner of Nolan’s mouth tipped up. “The rabbit has a Chihuahua to protect her?” He grasped Sally’s upper arms, lifted, and set her to one side.

“Hey!” Her lunge forward was stopped by a steely arm around her waist.

Vance chuckled. “Easy there. He’s not going to hurt her.”

“I should.” Nolan went down on one knee, still tall enough that his eyes were even with Beth’s. With a scarred hand under her chin, he lifted her face. “I had a nasty scene planned to pull answers out of you. To find out what’s made you unhappy.”

Her lips quivered. “I’m sorry, Master. I wouldn’t have married you if I’d—”

“I would have.”

His blunt statement made her blink. “But—”

“My family has kids to carry our bloodline.” He released her chin and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “If you want children, we’ll adopt them.”

“Really?” she whispered. Her blue eyes filled with tears.

“Sugar, I love you. I’ll do about anything to make you happy.” He picked Beth up and sat down, cuddling her in his lap. She buried her face against his chest, her shoulders shaking as she cried.

With a sigh of happiness, Sally slumped back against Vance. Despite scaring the spit out of people, Nolan really was as sweet as Beth insisted.

Vance kissed the top of Sally’s head before whispering, “See what happens if a submissive keeps secrets from her Dom. She’s miserable although she doesn’t have to be. Why don’t you tell me what you’re hiding, Sally?”

She stiffened. Would the FBI special agent cuddle her sweetly after hearing she’d hacked into the Harvest Association’s e-mails? Oh yeah, and she could tell him she was acting as a modern-day Robin Hood. He’d definitely understand her reasoning.

Not.

Pulling out of his arms, she smiled politely. “Would you like some iced tea, Sir?”

His eyes narrowed. “Guess I should ask Nolan what he’d planned for that nasty scene.”

Oh crap. Master Nolan liked using a flogger—and Galen would be all over any scene like that. Time to escape. “Perhaps I should check on my other Dom.”

“I’m here.” Galen tugged her hair as he limped past to take a seat on the far end of the sectional. “I’d like some tea, please, pet.”

“My pleasure, Sir.” Her answer got a suspicious look. What? Didn’t they think she could be a sweet submissive?
Jeez.

First she served Vance a glass.

He nodded his thanks and took a chair beside Galen.

She handed a drink to Galen. When she knelt beside him without being ordered, he raised his eyebrows.

Master Nolan and Beth were talking quietly, not ready to be disturbed, so Sally asked her men, “Did Master Nolan have suggestions about tearing the wall down?”

“It’s not load bearing, so we’re good to go.” Vance took a sip of his tea. “We’ll need an electrician for some rewiring though.”

“Might be good to put in an intercom while we’re at it,” Galen said.

An intercom? How old-fashioned. Be more fun to put in some voice-activated software and…

Voice activated. Oh my God
. Totally jazzed, Sally rose and left the room, keeping her back to the guys so they wouldn’t see her plotting.
Wire a light switch to turn on the receiver.

In the bathroom, she grabbed a handful of tissues, breathed through her excitement, and headed back. Think of the havoc she could create if she rigged her laptop to mess with the house functions—lighting, maybe—upon command.

As Sally walked into the great room, Beth was sitting up and wiping her cheeks. Excellent timing. Sally handed her the tissues before taking her place between the men. Kneeling.

Ignoring the two sets of suspicious eyes, she looked at their guests.

Beth’s hand was shaking as she cleaned off her face. She was too pale.

Nolan lifted his submissive to her feet. “Perhaps something to drink, sugar?”

Seriously? She bawls her head off, and he asks her to serve him?
Sally scowled and started to rise to wait on the insensitive jerk.

Galen set a detaining hand on her shoulder and whispered, “She isn’t like you, pet. Nolan knows serving him will calm her down.”

At the coffee table, Beth slowly fussed over fixing a tiny plate of snack mix and pouring a glass of iced tea. By the time she handed the plate and glass to Nolan, her hands were steady.

Setting the drink on the end table, he spread his legs and nodded at the floor.

She gave him a pleased smile and knelt between his feet, facing outward.

When Master Nolan looked down at her, love had turned his eyes a soft sable. He stroked a hand down her bare arm and offered her a tiny pretzel. Feeding her.

Beth leaned her head against her Master’s thigh with a look of peaceful contentment as he fed her tidbit after tidbit.

Feeling far too envious, Sally turned her attention to her glass, swirled her tea, and watched the ice cubes bob.

“Pretty rare,” Nolan said.

Sally looked up to see the Master studying her and Galen and Vance. “Rare for two Doms to share a submissive for more than a scene,” Nolan commented. “Especially since you’re not gay.”

“More like brothers,” Vance said, shaking his head. “But you don’t see it much.”

Sally nodded. There were poly relationships in the Shadowlands, but most were one Master and female slaves. Or a Domme, like the one who had a nonlifestyle partner, a female submissive, and a male pup. Two male Doms weren’t that common.

“Actually…” Beth glanced up at Nolan. “Sir?”

He ran his knuckles down her cheek. “I’m not enforcing high protocol, sugar. You’re on your knees only because you needed to be there for a bit, but this is just a visit with friends.”

Turning her head, she kissed his hand. Given permission to speak, she said, “I vacationed at a town in Colorado called Happiness or Joy or something, and the place had a lot of male-dominated ménages.”

“Uh-huh,” Galen said. “Jake told me about a place in Wyoming—King’s something or other—where polyamorous relationships with multiple men are common.”

Really?
Sally straightened. She’d thought her time with the Feds would be only short-term, just for the month or so until she snagged a job. But now…her heart quivered as if it had caught a chill.

Would the guys ever consider something long-term? And would she want that? With two men? Was she totally insane?

She scowled at the floor and then realized Nolan and Beth were leaving. After scrambling to her feet, she hugged Beth and whispered, “Let me know how it goes with the adoption stuff.”

Beth’s smile was far brighter than when she’d arrived. “I will.”

Nolan nodded at Sally, shook hands with Vance, and Galen walked them out.

After grabbing the bowl of snack mix off the table, Sally set it on the floor beside her and popped a cashew in her mouth. “Do you suppose they’ll try for a newborn or adopt an older child?”

Vance sat down beside her and picked up the bowl, earning himself a frown. “I could see Nolan wanting to give an older kid a chance.”

“Do you think it would bother him that the child wouldn’t be his own?”

As Nolan had with Beth, Vance fed her a pretzel.

A fuzzy, contented feeling invaded her chest.

“Most parents don’t think of their adopted children as anything but their own,” Vance said. “My mother tends to forget she didn’t carry me or my sisters in her belly.”

“You—you’re adopted?” Sally stared at him.

“Um-hmm. Chew before you choke, sweetheart.”

Adopted?
He tapped her lips, and she chewed obediently.

He picked out a couple of cashews and fed them to her. “Mom couldn’t have children.” His eyes darkened. “My birth mother was only thirteen when she was pregnant with me. She was a cousin of my father’s.”

Christ in the flowers, thirteen? “Have you ever met her?”

“Once I understood what adopted meant, I asked to meet her. Turned out that she’d died having me.” He stared out the window, where an egret was wading, stork-like, in the shallows. “For years, I felt so damned guilty. Like her death was my fault—that I’d killed her.”

“No.” Sally wrapped her arms around Vance’s legs and hugged them. “No, you didn’t. You were a baby.”

“Yeah. Once my parents realized how screwed up I was about it, they got through to me.” Vance stroked her hair. “Kids can feel guilty for the stupidest things.”

She looked up. His eyes were understanding but held the determination that she’d work past her own guilt.

Maybe, someday, she’d stop feeling so guilty for causing her mother’s death.

Hearing a noise, she turned her head.

Galen had been watching from the doorway.

He walked in, pushed the clutter on the coffee table to one side, and took a seat facing her. “In my case, I decided my crappy behavior was the reason my father divorced my mother.” Galen gave her a wry smile. “Soon after college, I ran into him in a restaurant, and we talked. He didn’t remember any of what I’d always thought was so bad. He hadn’t asked for visiting rights because he didn’t want any contact—at all—with my mother.”

“Oh God.” She wiggled her way between his legs until she could put her arms around his waist. “Your father sounds like a complete douche bag.”

“You’re a vicious little sub.” Galen laughed, and the darkness cleared from his voice. He hugged her back.

Happiness filled her. Staying between his legs, she settled herself with her back to him so she could lean forward and grab a handful of snack mix from the bowl beside Vance. And like a dutiful submissive, she twisted around and offered it up on her open palms to Galen.

Rather than taking it, he laughed at her and ran his finger down her cheek. “Don’t try to warp yourself into something you’re not, imp. Vance and I are happy with you as you are. We don’t want a full-time submissive. If I decide to take control at an unusual time, you’ll know it; you won’t be confused.”

Well, that was true enough. She remembered how on her first day with them, he’d tossed a cushion on the floor and pointed to it. “But—”

“You’re adorable when you try to be a slave, but that’s not who you are.”

“But don’t you like—”

“Makes me nervous to be waited on hand and foot,” Vance said.

“Oh.” She frowned. “But…I don’t feel as if I’m giving enough.”

“Works for me to share the chores. In the bedroom, I expect a submissive.” Vance grinned. “You don’t seem to have a problem with that.”

She flushed, remembering the early morning fucking that he liked so well. Galen liked to get up before dawn, but she and Vance would sleep until the alarm went off. And Vance would definitely take charge. The headboard probably had her fingernail marks on it.

Behind her, Galen tugged the scrunchie from her ponytail, and to her shock, he picked up her hairbrush from the table and started to brush her hair.

Long, smooth strokes. He even worked the tangles out with his fingers if he hit a snarl.

With a moan, Sally fell into the pleasure. “God, Galen.”

Galen laughed under his breath, his voice husky. “I used to do this for my mother.”

“Seriously?” Vance asked. “I can’t imagine your mother letting anyone touch her.”

“She got worse with the divorce. Totally retreated into the arctic zone.”

“Ah.” From the lack of expression on Vance’s face, Sally had to guess he didn’t like the woman at all. Which made Sally figure she must be a royal bitch.

And Galen had thought he’d caused that divorce, and afterward his mother pulled away into a cold shell. How would that affect a kid?

Sally frowned. Galen seemed like a gaming computer. Sensitive and responsive and always functioning at high speed. Far too easy to break. She wrapped her arm around his calf, holding him close as if she could make up for all the affection he’d missed as a child.

“Are you sure you don’t need more from me?” she asked, wanting just to…give.

“No, baby girl. What you bring us is more valuable than labor. The house is happier with you in it. More fun.” Galen’s hand stroked down her head after the pull of the brush, a double hit of tenderness. “Imp, wherever you go, the air practically sparkles.”

Her eyes blurred with the rush of tears.

And for one second—one second only—she could see herself staying. Long-term.

Chapter Fourteen

Nice to be home
. In the short hallway to their home office, Galen stretched. His shoulders and neck ached as if he’d taken Vance on in a weight-lifting competition rather than spending a day doing paperwork at the field office. Being an agent wasn’t all car chases and gun battles as he’d dreamed as a child.

The older he got, the more grateful for that he was—no matter how many reports he had to fill out.

In the office, Glock was stretched out on the center table. Galen walked over to stroke him. The rumbling purr merged with the country-western crap that Vance loved. Least it was a female vocalist this time.

Vance looked up from his desk. “Hey.”

“Where’s Sally?”

“Just left. Her job hunting must not be going well, since she looked pretty miserable. Shut her laptop down and went out to swim.”

Galen set his briefcase down on his desk. The thought of the imp moving away didn’t sit well on his chest. Nonetheless… “She’ll find something pretty soon, I’m sure.”

“Right.”

Galen frowned at the gruff answer. He knew damned well Vance didn’t want her to leave. “You two have a fight?”

“Not with her. Figure I’ll be having one with you.” Vance sounded tired. Discouraged. “I got an e-mail.”

“Go on.”

“The safe house holding the Harvest Association manager burned last night. The manager didn’t survive; the marshals are dead as well.”

“
Fuck
.” Galen slammed his hand on the desk, welcoming the flare of pain.

Glock gave him an offended stare for his behavior and stalked out of the room.

“God fucking dammit to hell.” Arson. What a fucked-up way to die. A coldness grew in his belly as he took the logical next step. How soon before the Harvest Association extended their targets to those in the FBI—or their loved ones? “We need to let her go.”