If only

“Good, good girl,” Galen murmured, and the sweetness of his deep voice washed over her like a blessing.

“Beautifully asked,” Vance agreed. “I’m proud of you, Sally.”

Galen caressed her breasts gently before his clever fingers closed on her tender nipples. Squeezing and releasing in burst after burst of exquisite pain.

Vance thrust, pulled out, pressed in. Each time, his thumb circled her clit, pushing her up, up. He rubbed his fingers just inside her entrance, reawakening the G-spot with a vengeance.

God. Her whole body went rigid as she shook, needing just another little bit. Please.

Vance’s gaze met hers, holding hers as he deliberately set his thumb on her clit and pressed down. Wiggled.

The spark set off a conflagration. Her body lit, burst into flame, and exploded. Wave after wave of pleasure whipped through her. Her neck arched as she screamed and swore and screamed.

After a wonderfully long time, she felt the waves die back. God, that felt good.

Then she heard Vance mutter, “Let’s try for seconds.” His fingers pushed in—three fingers—stretching her as his finger rubbed right on her clit. And like a giant storm surge, another orgasm hit, flattening everything before it.

Her own wails seemed to echo in her ears as she panted and quivered with aftershocks.

“Pretty girl,” Galen said. His hands were gentle on her breasts, circling and caressing her abused nipples. Vance was stroking her thighs.

After a minute, when she could actually breathe, Vance gathered her up into his arms. “You did well, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I thought I’d have to tease you for another half hour before you asked for help.”

The Dom had his own sadistic nature, cleverly concealed beneath a caring manner. She pinched him.

His answer was to silently slide his big hand between her legs again. To press against her oversensitive pussy. His smoldering gaze said he’d be perfectly happy starting the whole routine over again if that was what she wanted.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

The sun lines beside his eyes deepened with his smile.

Oh God, she really did love him.

Chapter Thirteen

In his office, Assistant District Attorney Drew Somerfeld sat behind his desk as he discussed a case with his newest intern.

All was well in the great metropolis of Manhattan. Crime continued. Law enforcement put the criminals behind bars. The Harvest Association was on hiatus, but he had a few million in bank accounts overseas. Another few million and he’d be ready to retire. He’d take Ellis with him, buy an island, and live like a lord.

“Thank you, Kathleen,” he said. “I think that covers it.”

She was a bright young woman. Quite efficient. Somerfeld started to stand before noticing the intern was fidgeting rather than exiting his office. “Something else?”

“I remember how angry you were about Lieutenant Tillman’s death.”

“I still am,” Somerfeld said in a tight voice. Mostly angry the bastard had gotten his claws into the Association. A shame the lesson hadn’t taken hold with the other members of the investigation team.

“You’ll be pleased to hear one of the so-called managers was arrested. He’s singing like the proverbial canary.”

Somerfeld froze for a second, then closed the folder on his desk as he forced a smile. “A manager? That’s excellent work. How did it come about?” Yes, he needed to know. His managers were to have shut down all communications.

“It’s that informant.” Kathleen’s smile was wide.

He wanted to slap her mouth hard enough to rip her lips away from her gopher-like teeth. “Go on.”

“The informant sent the captain e-mail addresses and files for three managers. One was arrested. The tech department is working to get locations on the other two.”

Son of a bitch. “Have we managed to identify the informant?”

“No. The computer experts say the man is bouncing his provider address through several places. Careful guy.”

“Just as well,” Somerfeld forced out. “The Association wouldn’t take such a betrayal lightly.” Wasn’t that the truth? But before dealing with the informant, he’d have to shut that manager up. Yes, that caged canary was going to have his beak roasted right off.

Somerfeld smiled pleasantly at Kathleen. “I appreciate you sharing the good news.”

Good to have a cure for Ellis’s growing restlessness. Burning the manager—and the marshals and safe house—would calm him right down.

Pity his twin’s slave would have to be sacrificed to get them into the house, because, right now, procuring a slut to replace her wouldn’t be easy. But Ellis expected to be reimbursed, so to speak. Actually, the way things were going, maybe he’d order an extra. Be nice to have a spare.

Once the manager was ash, Drew could turn his attention to finding the informant. For that bastard, he’d push his brother aside and light the first match.

* * *

Time does fly when you’re having fun. In the second guest bathroom, Sally worked off her lousy Monday at the police station as she sponged grout from the blue-gray stone tile floor. A bucket of water sat beside her.

She grinned, realizing she was cleaning a floor on hands and knees. Sheesh, tales of Cinderella…

But Cinderella hadn’t been the one to tile the floor, had she? Smiling, she swiped off another tile. Now she knew why the men liked doing their own construction. There was a simple pleasure in creating something both useful and beautiful.

Sally sat back and surveyed her work. Well centered. Around the walls, the partial tiles were all the same size. No tipped-up corners. Damn, she was good. Of course, she’d had a lot of practice over the weekend while the Feds were gone.

In between visits from her friends—and thank God for the Shadowkittens—the house had felt far too quiet, and she’d been lonely. And bored.

No Vance to cook with—or Galen to clean up. No discussions or arguments at meals.

Kari had come over one evening but had to return home early to put Zane to bed. She’d been her usual sweet, fun self—Sally frowned—except for the time Dan’s name was mentioned and she’d looked…unhappy. But then she’d changed the subject.

But in the late evenings, Sally had been lonely, missing her guys.

Vance liked sports and movies, although he refused chick flicks or animations like Mulan. A typical guy, he preferred shoot-’em-ups like Die Hard. But after she forced him to watch Alien, he’d been converted to science-fiction films. He can be taught.

And how weird was it that Galen was a World of Warcraft addict? Even worse, his shaman was still kicking her ass online. But, as if to apologize, he’d taught her how to paddle his ancient wooden canoe.

She sighed. Kisses and canoeing on the lake in the moonlight.

But all that togetherness meant she really missed them. Although Glock had joined her in her giant bed, the sweet fur baby didn’t compare to the men.

Thank God they were back…although they’d kept her up most of the night. Seemed like maybe they’d missed her too.

“Well, look at that. You got her doing manual labor.” The rough voice made her jump, and she spun around.