If only

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.

“Your head knows, but deep down, you believe if you care for someone and they get angry with you, that they’ll pull away like your father did,” Vance said.

“We’re not pulling away, baby.” Galen tilted her chin up so he could look into her face. “I love you, Sally.”

What? Her mouth dropped open, and her heart came to a complete halt right along with her breathing.

“No.”

His lips curled into a wry smile. “Yes.”

Galen loves me? Me? Her processing unit had just suffered a complete power failure, she thought, even as she tried to store everything away—with extra backups—so she’d never lose the memory of the soft look in his dark eyes. The feeling of his fingers under her chin, the slight roughness of his voice.

After Galen released her, Vance cupped his big hand against her cheek, turning her to face him. “Sweetheart, I love you. Very, very much.”

“But…” Her breathing stopped again. There was a serious lack of air in the room; she should complain to management. She tried to shake her head—he held her still as he studied her face. “But you can’t,” she whispered.

“But I do.” Vance’s cheek creased.

They love me? Both of them? Love me? “But-but you guys could have anyone.” Submissives were always trailing after them, flirting with them, even kneeling to catch