“I know now. It’s okay.” Her irrepressible spirit resurfaced, and a dimple appeared. “Does that mean you won’t yell at me again?”
“’Fraid not. If we’re together, I’ll probably yell at you again, just as I’ll probably exchange punches with Vance.” Galen rubbed his knuckles on her cheek. “But Vance and I can survive fighting, because we will be around later to make peace. You weren’t.”
She winced.
“You disobeyed us,” Galen continued. “You risked your safety by crawling out a window and walking down a road at night. You didn’t phone to let us know you were all right.” He pulled in a breath. “You had a right to be mad, pet. Even to come to Iowa.”
“But I should have let you know.” Sally’s voice dropped. “I acted like a little girl.”
Vance sighed. She broke his heart. “You acted like a woman who grew up having to hide her feelings.” He gripped her hands and squeezed even as Galen pulled her to lean against his body.
“And I need to work past that reaction. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Very good.” Galen kissed the top of her head, his face gentle. Sally wasn’t the only person learning to let her feelings show.
Since Vance’s ribs still hurt, he kept that thought to himself. Galen certainly had no trouble expressing his feelings with his fists.
“I’ll try.”
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Vance said.
“So this was the talking part of the show.” Sally hauled in a breath, gave herself a shake, and her breasts shimmied in a way that made Vance’s mouth dry. Seemed really unfair that a woman got those fascinating bits, and a man didn’t. A woman could simply pull her shirt down, show some extra cleavage, and mesmerize every guy in the room. If a man opened his jeans and let his cock poke out, every woman in the place would be calling for the cops. Or worse, screaming, Ew. Gross.
Well, if he didn’t have breasts of his own, seemed only fair the woman should share hers. He put his hands on her breasts, stopped the wiggle, and circled his thumbs over the pretty pink areolae.
Galen snorted. “Talk about a lack of control.”
Grinning, Vance secured his grip and pulled on her breasts, drawing her forward until she gave up and buried her face against his neck. “I’ll just restrain her using these lovelies while she learns the consequences of not informing her lords and masters of her location.”
“What?” She tried to sit up to protect the vulnerable little ass that stuck up in the air.
Vance didn’t let her. Hell of a restraint system. It wouldn’t work with small breasts, but Sally’s were the size where a Dom could get a good grip. Oh yeah.
“Whatever works.” Galen shook his head. “Sally, this won’t be a long punishment. I’m going to give you three strikes of the switch, hard enough that for a few days, the welts will remind you of our expectations.” He ran his hand down her back.
Vance felt her quiver.
“No relationship escapes battles, so these are the rules of combat,” Galen said. “The combatants may withdraw at any time during a fight. If you need to retreat farther than the house, you let the others know where to find you. The time limit on making up is twenty-four hours, whereupon discussion must begin.”
Silence. She turned to look at him and sighed. “That’s fair.”
“Good.” Galen picked up a slender, peeled length of wood and slashed it through the air. The whipping noise showed it was green and very flexible.
Vance grinned. No wonder Galen had volunteered to drive Sally’s rental back alone. He must have stopped to cut the branch from a tree on the way back and taken the time to smooth it out.
“Sally, it’s going to hurt,” Galen warned. “And we’re in a hotel. If you yell, I’m going to gag you, and I don’t want to. We’ve come too far in getting you to talk to want to silence you now. Can you be quiet?”
“Uh-huh.” She buried her face back in Vance’s neck. And he wrapped his arms over her shoulders and held her, his amusement fading. Fuck, he hated punishing anyone, especially Sally.
The first blow made the distinctive sound of a switch hitting flesh. Her body jerked. No one in the next room would hear, but he knew it was damned painful.
HOLY SHIT. SALLY pressed her face to Vance’s corded neck, gritted her teeth, and breathed out through the icy-hot sting. She trembled with the need to cover her ass for the next—
Smack. Oh God. She felt her arms try to move, but Vance held her immobile. Restrained by one man for the other. She keened into his soap-scented flesh and—
Smack!
It felt as if Galen had laid lines of fire on her butt. She sucked in air through her teeth, waiting for the intense stinging to die down.
“All done, pet.” She felt Galen run his hand down her back, over her bottom. Fiery pain erupted again when his fingers traced over the welts. “You’ll definitely feel these for a couple of days.”
Slowly, she pushed up.
Vance curled his hand over her nape, holding her still, forcing her to look into his piercing eyes. “You scared me, Sally,” he said softly.
Oh God, she wouldn’t have hurt him for the world. “I’m sorry.” Her eyes began to burn, and she blinked back tears. “I really am.”
“You’ve been punished enough, sweetie. But don’t ever do that again.”
She buried her face back into his neck, feeling his hand stroke over her back in the sweetest of forgiveness. “I won’t,” she whispered.
“Then give me a kiss and we’ll move on.”
After hitching herself up, she ran her fingers into his thick hair—because he liked that—and kissed him, trying to tell him without words how much she loved him. How much she liked feeling the guilt fade with his honest forgiveness.
Lifting her head, she had to bite back words of love.
She heard Galen say, “Sit up now, pet.”
She pushed upright, keeping her weight off her bottom, and flinched when she saw him hand the switch to Vance. Vance was going to hit her now?
B-but, he said he forgave her.
Hands around her waist, Galen lifted her off the bed and onto her feet. He framed her face between his hands, looking into her eyes. “Are you sorry you ran instead of talking to me?” His expression was open, showing her how much her lack of trust had hurt him.
Tears welled in her eyes. She hadn’t meant to hurt him. God, she hadn’t thought he’d care.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I won’t do that again. I’m sorry.”
A smile flickered over his lips. He kissed her, so, so gently, and it felt as if he was washing away the anger and hurt. And forgiving her.
He took the switch from Vance and handed it to her. “I’m at fault as much as you were. People do yell, but I overreacted and at a very bad time. I should have left and returned once I regained control. Give me three welts.”
“No!”
“Yes.” He touched her nose and gave her his half smile. “Don’t look so upset. I’m not offering my ass. Put them on my shoulders.”
No, please. “I don’t want to.”
“I didn’t ask what you wanted, pet.” He turned and went down on his good knee.
The sight of his beautiful back, the contoured muscles beneath the olive skin, could still take her breath away. “But…”
“Go on. Let’s get past this,” Vance said.
Is this horrible, ugly unhappiness what Galen felt when he hit her? How could he ever manage?
The men wouldn’t back down, so she needed to get it over. She tried to summon some anger, find the feeling of desolation from that night or the sense of betrayal when Galen hadn’t let her explain. He’d punched Vance; he should pay for that.
She couldn’t.
“Sally,” Galen said in a guttural command. “Now.”
Pulling in a shuddering breath, she struck. One. Two. Three.
Any last trace of anger died as she saw the red lines marring the perfection of his back. Tears blurred her vision, and she threw the stick across the room as hard as she could. “I hate you!”
“Oh, imp.” Galen rose and tried to pull her into his arms.
How could he? “I don’t hurt people.” Weeping, she hit him, her fists bouncing off his jaw and the ridged muscles of his stomach.
He ignored the blows, scooped her up, and sat on the bed, pulling her against his chest.
“I hate you.” He’d yelled at her. Made her cry. Punished her. Made her hurt him. Head against his shoulder, wrapped in his arms, she choked on sobs, unable to stop.
“Get it out, baby girl,” he murmured.
She felt her legs tucked over Vance’s, and his fingers enfolded hers. She tried to pull away and got nowhere, so she glared through tears at the fuzzy lines of his face, the intensity of his level gaze. “I hate you too.”
“No, you don’t, sweetheart.” His thumbs rubbed the backs of her hands. “Being mad at someone doesn’t mean you hate them.” He gave Galen a smile. “Punching someone doesn’t mean you hate them. Neither does punishing them.”
Her sobbing gasps eased as she reached the end of her tears. “I know,” she whispered.