If only

And he trusted Sally. Really did. Yes, she’d deceived them about the hacking and sometimes about her feelings, but she’d never cheat on him. She didn’t have a disloyal bone in her body.

She had a sense of honor that he could respect. A rather interesting sense of honor, in fact, remembering her statement in the cabana. “And if you ask me if your hips look fat in a dress, I’ll tell you the truth.” Grinning, he looked up as the noise escalated in the bathroom.

“But I want a robe,” Sally whined as the door opened.

“No point.” Galen pushed her out into the hotel room and returned to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Her hair was clipped on top of her head; her eyes were bright. Her full breasts were waiting for Vance’s hands. Nipples puckered and erect.

“Oh now, that’s nice,” Vance murmured.

She was already pink from the hot shower—and arousal—but at his look, her color deepened and she tried to cover herself with her hands. “Uh, you’re already here.”

He grinned. “Sweetheart, you’ve sucked our dicks, had us inside you just about every way possible, had our mouths everywhere—how can you possibly feel modest?”

“I don’t know. Because I’m in Iowa?” With the prettiest laugh a woman ever had, she jumped on the bed and flopped on top of him. Moist skin, scented with lotion, soft woman.

He’d died, bounced off hell, and gone straight to paradise.

He ran his hands past her lush ass to open her legs, and yanked her up, straddling him. Her pussy rested on his cock, and he could feel the heat right through his jeans.

When he rubbed upward, her eyes drooped, half-lidded. “Are we going to play?” Her voice came out husky.

“Soon. Talk, punishment, talk, sex. I think that’s how it’ll go.”

Her frown wrinkled her brow. “Why can’t we jump straight to the sex? Isn’t it better to finish making up?”

Where was Galen? The inconsiderate bastard was still in the bathroom—probably shaving—leaving Vance to answer questions. Maybe because Vance had been the moron who’d felt Sally shouldn’t escape the consequences of her actions. Not if their relationship was to continue. And he wanted that more than he could say.

“It’s like this, Sally.” With Sally still on his lap, he worked his way up to a half-sitting position with his back against the headboard. “Galen lost his temper and yelled at you.”

“He did.”

At her pout, he grinned. He knew full well she put on that cute face just for effect. Even better, she knew that he knew, so she didn’t do it to manipulate…but rather for fun. “Galen and I yelled at each other after that.”

“More than shouting. You hit each other.” She gently touched the purple bruises over his gut, his ribs. His jaw.

“True, but that’s what”— brothers do—“we do, whether it’s mature or not. Then we get on with life.” Would he ever get tired of looking into eyes of such a rich brown? Or of running a finger over her plump lower lip…which was still sticking out slightly. “Unfortunately, it’s difficult to get on with life if one of the people is halfway across the country.”

Her gaze dropped. “You’re angry because you had to follow me here?”

“No, sweetheart, we’re unhappy because you scared us to death when you disappeared. You usually tackle problems head-on. Why not this time?” Ah, but she didn’t deal well with emotional upsets. She’d run from them before. “Red red red.” Safeworded out of a scene, quit the Shadowlands, all because they’d gotten too close and she’d felt too vulnerable. So this time—

“I saw you punch Galen,” she admitted. “My fault. You’ve been friends forever, and you were fighting each other because of what I’d done.”

A movement caught his eye. Clad in jeans, Galen leaned against the bathroom door frame. Yep, he’d shaved. He jerked his chin for Vance to continue.

All right. “You felt guilty because you’d upset us,” he fed back. “Maybe Galen hurt your feelings by yelling at you?”

She shrugged as if that part was unimportant.

Bullshit. When she forgot to hide, her face was as expressive as her body was responsive. “You told us you loved us, and before the night was over, Galen was yelling at you.”

Touchdown. Her eyes turned liquid, and she looked away. “I know why he yelled now. But it hurt.”

“I’m sorry, Sally,” Galen said, walking to stand beside the bed, pain obvious in his face.

“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