“I do.”
Matt nodded, his lips quirking. “Because our ladies do tend to share secrets with one another.”
“Well, fair’s fair.”
He gave her a full smile at that. Gesturing her onto the stool next to him, he steadied it until she was situated. Then he sobered. “Those first several years, he didn’t like to be touched by anyone. Not men or women. It was obvious he trusted neither one, and I’m sure he experienced the expected list of atrocities a child on the street faces.”
He’d straightened, turning to lean against the counter next to her. Her slippered feet brushed against his jeans leg, but he didn’t discourage the casual contact. Marcie was glad, because in the aftermath of the night’s events, and imagining the dark picture he was painting, the tactile connection was reassuring. “But the real wounds he carried were chronic betrayals, inflicted by everyone who mattered in his life. It was a long time before he learned to relax enough to enjoy the camaraderie you see between him and the other men now. But that’s not the only difference.
“It’s perhaps a sign of a divine plan that Lucas ended up as head of your household. He transitioned from losing his parents to an optimal adopted family early on, so optimal there’s even a genetic resemblance between them. I’m not saying he doesn’t remember the loss, but he had a strong familial structure to take its place fairly quickly. That’s rare, but it gives him a stability that holds fast through everything. I saw it when we met at Yale. I was a few years late attending, because I had to take over my father’s business, but that was a fortuitous delay, since it gained me Lucas as a roommate.”
Matt brushed her hair from her face, a gentle touch. “The code of morality that we observe, toward women, business, service in our community…that was a code that already existed for Lucas and myself, Jon and Peter. It drew us together, and we deepened that bond in our daily actions.” He met Marcie’s gaze. “Ben needed that structure because he had lived entirely without it. Our code became a lifeline to what he was meant to be, instead of the scavenger he’d had to become. It defines him. When he lost control earlier tonight—”
“I pushed him. I was topping—”
“Stop.”
Whoa. There was a reason the other men deferred to Matt. Her words froze in her throat at the look on his face. “What happened is entirely on Ben’s shoulders,” he said quietly. “He knows it, we all know it. If you want to be with him, Marcie, do not ever excuse a loss of control like that.
“Yes, topping from the bottom can be dangerous, because it mixes up who is holding the physical and emotional control, and it’s important that the Dom keep a calm hand on those reins at all times, because of how intense a session can become. However, what I just said about our code…for Peter, Jon, Lucas and myself, it is an ideal, however vital we consider it. For Ben, it’s an imperative. If you love him, you hold him to it, always. With the exception of Peter, within the confines of military action, none of us have lived lives governed completely by violence. Ben has.”
She swallowed. He was waiting on her answer, and while he wasn’t her Master, she knew exactly how to respond. “Yes sir.”
Matt nodded. “Ben has another side of that same coin, which is why he will be harder on himself about what happened tonight than anyone. He has no tolerance for an attack on an innocent. If he had been part of your life the night Jeremy’s friend attacked you, that friend would be dead. His body would be lost in the bayou, never to be found, and Ben wouldn’t lose a night of sleep over cutting his throat.”
Marcie blinked. “Are you trying to scare me away from him?”
“No. You asked me a question, and I’m giving you an answer. You’re very young.”
She scowled, automatic resentment rising in her breast. Here it went. The “you’re so young” speech.
“Marcie.” He had that authoritative gaze fixed on her again. “Drop the attitude. It’s a simple fact. You don’t have a lot of life experience to bring to a situation like this, the things I’ve described. Correct?”
She gave a grudging nod.
“Right. So you need to consider it carefully. Are you ready to handle that type of man, something entirely separate from your feelings for him? You may want to negotiate a million-dollar contract, but do you step into the room before you have the resources to handle it?”
She watched him pour more hot water, then patiently take up a spoon and stir a mug of chocolate for his wife. He had large hands, but they moved capably over the task. Savannah might be impatient with Matt’s coddling, but the Tennyson CEO understood it. They all did. Savannah’s mother had died as a result of her pregnancy. Though it was because of a virulent cancer that she’d refused to have treated to protect her unborn child, there was a lingering legacy there. Under Matt’s collar, Savannah often wore the locket left to her by her mother. The past was important.
But it didn’t dictate choices. Cass had taught her that.
“I don’t know if I can handle him, but it’s not that kind of decision.” There was no going back now. Not for her. “From the moment we met, I knew I was his. That’s who I want to be. So I have to figure it out, you know? Jon said it could only happen if I was myself, so that’s got to be enough.” She drew herself up. “I think it is.”
Matt pursed his lips,
