If Only
Page 66
* * * *
Vance stripped and tossed his clothes toward the corner of his bedroom where yesterday’s clothes were scattered on the dark blue carpet. Pretty sloppy. His ex would have had fits. He frowned.
Only one day’s worth? He hadn’t done his laundry since they’d returned from New York…which meant Sally must have taken it on.
Jesus, they hadn’t brought her here to be a maid.
He rubbed his neck wearily, wanting to curse his brains out. Couldn’t he fucking do anything right? Got himself shot. Even worse, he’d allowed a criminal to escape. Sure he’d done the best he could, but he still felt responsible.
Even worse, Galen was fucking morose. Probably blaming himself for not being Super Fed.
And neither of them was seeing to their submissive. Hell, they’d taken her on to help her, not ignore her. Certainly not to have that beautiful, brilliant woman turn into their slave.
She wasn’t happy either.
He sighed. He and Galen had been spending days and nights working, surfacing only to watch an hour of late-night news. Hardly speaking.
An hour ago, Sally had said she was tired and wanted the night to herself. Not good. Usually either he and/or Galen joined her in her bedroom. Even when she had her menses and didn’t want to fuck, she liked having someone to cuddle with and to put a warm hand on her cramping belly.
She’d never wanted to sleep alone before. Yes, something was up with her. And he didn’t have the time or the energy to stop and figure it out.
Fuck. His back was almost back to normal. No longer ached as if he’d been run over by a train. Just let him get a good night’s sleep—one without nightmares of the dead cop and gunfire and previous shootouts and blood and… Yeah, if he could sleep, he’d be able to pick up the reins of the D/s relationship.
After brushing his teeth, he lifted the toilet lid to take a piss. “What the fuck.”
Words were printed on toilet paper draped over the bowl. Dear Master Frowny Face, keep on swimming. Life will get better. The water, tinted light blue, contained two toy fish, swimming in happy circles around the bowl.
Jesus. He started to laugh, knowing exactly who’d sabotaged his bathroom—one little impertinent brat.
GALEN STRIPPED AND gathered up his clothes. Exhaustion weighed down his shoulders. Seemed like his life had been playing the same tune for the past year. “Two steps forward, and one step back.”
Every break they caught was followed by some disaster. To have the damned arsonist be the one who escaped… God, he couldn’t live like this.
He hadn’t been able to sleep since his partner’d been hurt. Vance could have been killed. Could still be killed.
Galen opened the closet door and— “What the hell!”
Just inside the closet sat a miniature potted tree. A stuffed orange kitten was hanging by its little paws from one branch. A toy cat? He looked up and read the banner that hung from the closet ceiling. Hang in there, Master Grumpy Pants. Life will get better.
God. Damn. His blood still churned through his veins at the surprise. He took a step back and started to laugh.
* * * *
Still grinning, Vance left his room and saw his partner, his face flushed and the remnants of laughter.
Galen gave him the same look back. “She got you too?”
“Master Frowny Face.” Vance’s lips quirked. “And you?”
“Master Grumpy Pants,” Galen said ruefully.
Grumpy Pants? Laughter ripped through Vance so hard he felt as if he’d herniate a gut. “Fuck, she’s out of control.”
“I love that little brat,” Galen said under his breath.
Vance felt the warmth in his heart. “Oh yeah.”
“Not sure whether to spank her or fuck her.”
“I think—” A blast of icy water hit Vance in the chest, shocking the breath right out of him. “Fuck!”
Water splashed off Galen. His gasp turned into a low growl. “Spank, for sure.”
“I’m on it.” Vance charged down the hall, sucked in air as he got struck again, and put his head down and bulled through. Freezing water hit his stomach and soaked his jeans. His balls shrank, probably to the size of marbles.
“She’s got a water gun,” Vance snapped. And she’d loaded the fucking thing with ice water. Jesus. He checked over his shoulder for backup.
Galen had grabbed his cane and was a few steps behind.
A stream of water went past Vance to hit Galen…and drizzled to a stop.
With an unhappy eep, their assailant fled down the stairs. Her skin—including a curvy, jiggling ass—shone white in the dim stairwell lighting.
Despite the freezing jeans, Vance’s cock hardened.
“Naked war games?” Galen huffed a laugh. “I’m in.”
Sally disappeared into the darkness of the ground floor.
After reaching the foot of the stairs, Vance waited until Galen caught up. “Plan?”
“Hold on.” Galen flipped on the game room light, studied the floor, and pointed to drops of water heading into the dining room. “The perp’s rifle is leaking.”
Vance led the way, following the wet trail into the kitchen. When he stepped out the back door, the humid night air wrapped around him. He listened and heard nothing except the frogs and crickets on the shore and the hoot of a barred owl.
In the light of the full moon, he saw glittering drops of water in a line toward the pool.
Something moved to the right. Vance spun—and saw two furry gray ears. Yellow eyes.
Glock was watching the insanity from a patio chair near the pool. Good thing Vance hadn’t had a squirt gun or that would be one offended feline.
Just past Glock’s chair, Sally knelt on the edge of the pool, filling her gun.
“Now there’s a target,” Galen said under his breath. “Can you pull off a tackle without hurting your back?”
Vance grinned. “Just watch me.” He charged across the deck and, rather than a tackle, grabbed her as he dived past into the water.
She gave a startled squeak before they went under.
Oh yeah. She was slick and squirmy, and finding one of her breasts under his hand, he closed his fingers. Fuck, he loved the feel of her.
As they surfaced, the underwater lights came on, and then Galen cannonballed into the pool, causing an explosion of water.
Holding his prisoner tightly with her back against his chest, Vance swam toward the shallower end and stopped at a depth where he and Galen would have footing. Wasn’t it a shame that Sally was short and her feet wouldn’t reach the bottom there?
Vance wrapped one hand around her upper arm—to keep her safe—and the other stayed on her beautifully plump breast where the nipple was so distended it poked into his palm.
Her ass wiggled against his cock. Jesus.
“Having trouble subduing the criminal?” Galen grinned at him. “I’ll help.” When he slid a hand between her legs, she jolted.
Galen fisted her hair and pulled her head back so they could both see her face. “You got our attention, pet. Was there something you wanted to say?”
“I-I-no…” Her voice shook so hard Vance froze. Was she crying? Fuck, had he hurt her?
Or…she was giggling. Giggling so violently she was choking with it.
Vance shook his head and grinned.
Galen started to laugh.
DESPITE A MOMENTARY worry they might be furious with her, Sally couldn’t stop giggling. She had too many moments to savor, like the shock on Vance’s face as the ice water hit him. And Galen’s face when he saw her with the water gun.
When they’d left their rooms, she’d heard their laughter—Galen’s deep and rich, Vance’s rougher and infectious. They could still see the fun side of life and were no longer on their way to zombie-land.
However, there was someone who was mad. A gray form showed in the dim lights. Fur matted down with water, a very indignant cat jumped off a poolside chair and stalked toward the house. Well, heck, she’d warned him—his fault if he didn’t listen.
“Sorry, Glock,” Galen called and received a slit-eyed glare in return. “Guess I caused some collateral damage. But we got the perp, eh, Vance?” Galen’s hand tightened in her hair. “What should we do with this little miscreant?” His voice had gone lower, the deep timbre vibrating across her skin, wakening every nerve in her body.
Vance’s big hands on her upper arm and breast burned into her skin. “I could suggest a few things,” he whispered into her ear.
Galen’s gaze was on her face as he palmed her mound and stroked his fingers over her clit and labia.
Oh, oh, oh. She couldn’t keep from rocking into his hand. He knew just where to touch her to drive her straight into need.
“Someone is getting very wet,” he murmured.
“Duh. Someone is in the water.” Her attempt at flippancy was spoiled by her breathlessness. Annoyed, she tried to push away, but her feet didn’t reach the bottom, and they had her well restrained.
Intimately restrained.
Vance’s chest warmed her back, and his thick erection pressed against her bottom. God, she wanted him inside her.
Releasing his grip on her arm, he claimed her other breast to scissor his fingers around the nipples. “I love it when they’re all tiny and hard.”
Galen snorted. “Have you ever seen Sally’s breasts in a state you didn’t love?”
Vance stripped and tossed his clothes toward the corner of his bedroom where yesterday’s clothes were scattered on the dark blue carpet. Pretty sloppy. His ex would have had fits. He frowned.
Only one day’s worth? He hadn’t done his laundry since they’d returned from New York…which meant Sally must have taken it on.
Jesus, they hadn’t brought her here to be a maid.
He rubbed his neck wearily, wanting to curse his brains out. Couldn’t he fucking do anything right? Got himself shot. Even worse, he’d allowed a criminal to escape. Sure he’d done the best he could, but he still felt responsible.
Even worse, Galen was fucking morose. Probably blaming himself for not being Super Fed.
And neither of them was seeing to their submissive. Hell, they’d taken her on to help her, not ignore her. Certainly not to have that beautiful, brilliant woman turn into their slave.
She wasn’t happy either.
He sighed. He and Galen had been spending days and nights working, surfacing only to watch an hour of late-night news. Hardly speaking.
An hour ago, Sally had said she was tired and wanted the night to herself. Not good. Usually either he and/or Galen joined her in her bedroom. Even when she had her menses and didn’t want to fuck, she liked having someone to cuddle with and to put a warm hand on her cramping belly.
She’d never wanted to sleep alone before. Yes, something was up with her. And he didn’t have the time or the energy to stop and figure it out.
Fuck. His back was almost back to normal. No longer ached as if he’d been run over by a train. Just let him get a good night’s sleep—one without nightmares of the dead cop and gunfire and previous shootouts and blood and… Yeah, if he could sleep, he’d be able to pick up the reins of the D/s relationship.
After brushing his teeth, he lifted the toilet lid to take a piss. “What the fuck.”
Words were printed on toilet paper draped over the bowl. Dear Master Frowny Face, keep on swimming. Life will get better. The water, tinted light blue, contained two toy fish, swimming in happy circles around the bowl.
Jesus. He started to laugh, knowing exactly who’d sabotaged his bathroom—one little impertinent brat.
GALEN STRIPPED AND gathered up his clothes. Exhaustion weighed down his shoulders. Seemed like his life had been playing the same tune for the past year. “Two steps forward, and one step back.”
Every break they caught was followed by some disaster. To have the damned arsonist be the one who escaped… God, he couldn’t live like this.
He hadn’t been able to sleep since his partner’d been hurt. Vance could have been killed. Could still be killed.
Galen opened the closet door and— “What the hell!”
Just inside the closet sat a miniature potted tree. A stuffed orange kitten was hanging by its little paws from one branch. A toy cat? He looked up and read the banner that hung from the closet ceiling. Hang in there, Master Grumpy Pants. Life will get better.
God. Damn. His blood still churned through his veins at the surprise. He took a step back and started to laugh.
* * * *
Still grinning, Vance left his room and saw his partner, his face flushed and the remnants of laughter.
Galen gave him the same look back. “She got you too?”
“Master Frowny Face.” Vance’s lips quirked. “And you?”
“Master Grumpy Pants,” Galen said ruefully.
Grumpy Pants? Laughter ripped through Vance so hard he felt as if he’d herniate a gut. “Fuck, she’s out of control.”
“I love that little brat,” Galen said under his breath.
Vance felt the warmth in his heart. “Oh yeah.”
“Not sure whether to spank her or fuck her.”
“I think—” A blast of icy water hit Vance in the chest, shocking the breath right out of him. “Fuck!”
Water splashed off Galen. His gasp turned into a low growl. “Spank, for sure.”
“I’m on it.” Vance charged down the hall, sucked in air as he got struck again, and put his head down and bulled through. Freezing water hit his stomach and soaked his jeans. His balls shrank, probably to the size of marbles.
“She’s got a water gun,” Vance snapped. And she’d loaded the fucking thing with ice water. Jesus. He checked over his shoulder for backup.
Galen had grabbed his cane and was a few steps behind.
A stream of water went past Vance to hit Galen…and drizzled to a stop.
With an unhappy eep, their assailant fled down the stairs. Her skin—including a curvy, jiggling ass—shone white in the dim stairwell lighting.
Despite the freezing jeans, Vance’s cock hardened.
“Naked war games?” Galen huffed a laugh. “I’m in.”
Sally disappeared into the darkness of the ground floor.
After reaching the foot of the stairs, Vance waited until Galen caught up. “Plan?”
“Hold on.” Galen flipped on the game room light, studied the floor, and pointed to drops of water heading into the dining room. “The perp’s rifle is leaking.”
Vance led the way, following the wet trail into the kitchen. When he stepped out the back door, the humid night air wrapped around him. He listened and heard nothing except the frogs and crickets on the shore and the hoot of a barred owl.
In the light of the full moon, he saw glittering drops of water in a line toward the pool.
Something moved to the right. Vance spun—and saw two furry gray ears. Yellow eyes.
Glock was watching the insanity from a patio chair near the pool. Good thing Vance hadn’t had a squirt gun or that would be one offended feline.
Just past Glock’s chair, Sally knelt on the edge of the pool, filling her gun.
“Now there’s a target,” Galen said under his breath. “Can you pull off a tackle without hurting your back?”
Vance grinned. “Just watch me.” He charged across the deck and, rather than a tackle, grabbed her as he dived past into the water.
She gave a startled squeak before they went under.
Oh yeah. She was slick and squirmy, and finding one of her breasts under his hand, he closed his fingers. Fuck, he loved the feel of her.
As they surfaced, the underwater lights came on, and then Galen cannonballed into the pool, causing an explosion of water.
Holding his prisoner tightly with her back against his chest, Vance swam toward the shallower end and stopped at a depth where he and Galen would have footing. Wasn’t it a shame that Sally was short and her feet wouldn’t reach the bottom there?
Vance wrapped one hand around her upper arm—to keep her safe—and the other stayed on her beautifully plump breast where the nipple was so distended it poked into his palm.
Her ass wiggled against his cock. Jesus.
“Having trouble subduing the criminal?” Galen grinned at him. “I’ll help.” When he slid a hand between her legs, she jolted.
Galen fisted her hair and pulled her head back so they could both see her face. “You got our attention, pet. Was there something you wanted to say?”
“I-I-no…” Her voice shook so hard Vance froze. Was she crying? Fuck, had he hurt her?
Or…she was giggling. Giggling so violently she was choking with it.
Vance shook his head and grinned.
Galen started to laugh.
DESPITE A MOMENTARY worry they might be furious with her, Sally couldn’t stop giggling. She had too many moments to savor, like the shock on Vance’s face as the ice water hit him. And Galen’s face when he saw her with the water gun.
When they’d left their rooms, she’d heard their laughter—Galen’s deep and rich, Vance’s rougher and infectious. They could still see the fun side of life and were no longer on their way to zombie-land.
However, there was someone who was mad. A gray form showed in the dim lights. Fur matted down with water, a very indignant cat jumped off a poolside chair and stalked toward the house. Well, heck, she’d warned him—his fault if he didn’t listen.
“Sorry, Glock,” Galen called and received a slit-eyed glare in return. “Guess I caused some collateral damage. But we got the perp, eh, Vance?” Galen’s hand tightened in her hair. “What should we do with this little miscreant?” His voice had gone lower, the deep timbre vibrating across her skin, wakening every nerve in her body.
Vance’s big hands on her upper arm and breast burned into her skin. “I could suggest a few things,” he whispered into her ear.
Galen’s gaze was on her face as he palmed her mound and stroked his fingers over her clit and labia.
Oh, oh, oh. She couldn’t keep from rocking into his hand. He knew just where to touch her to drive her straight into need.
“Someone is getting very wet,” he murmured.
“Duh. Someone is in the water.” Her attempt at flippancy was spoiled by her breathlessness. Annoyed, she tried to push away, but her feet didn’t reach the bottom, and they had her well restrained.
Intimately restrained.
Vance’s chest warmed her back, and his thick erection pressed against her bottom. God, she wanted him inside her.
Releasing his grip on her arm, he claimed her other breast to scissor his fingers around the nipples. “I love it when they’re all tiny and hard.”
Galen snorted. “Have you ever seen Sally’s breasts in a state you didn’t love?”
