The girl really didn’t realize how much she needed this all—the ability to submit, to relax, to have someone there to protect her, to trust that someone had her back—did she? She might not want to need it—she might have shown up the night before to prove something to herself—but her reaction said it all. She’d relaxed there because she craved that submission. Clearly, she’d been holding herself so tight, unable to let go, at least until right then.
“What are the odds?” Trent asked, voice soft to not wake her up.
“A million to one,” Garrison responded. “That means something, right? How could we run into heragain?”
Connor shook his head, not one to believe in fate. “It’s a crapshoot, and we’re too old to be romantics. It’s not cute anymore.”
Garrison narrowed his eyes. “So what do you suggest?”
Connor peered down, finding her thin shoulders, the strap of her tank top reminding him of how they’d slid her dress down the night before, of how perfectly her breast fit into his palm, of how sweet her lips were. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But damaged women who are reluctant subs isn’t a game you really want to get into, is it? We’ve always said we shouldn’t play games we’re liable to lose.”
“She isn’t all that reluctant,” Trent said. “She’s just…confused.”
Connor sighed, knowing it didn’t mean a thing what he said about it being a bad idea. Even if he knew with absolute certainty that she’d stomp all over them, it wouldn’t really change how he felt.
The reality was that after the night before, after tasting the girl’s passion, after seeing her in her element at the shelter, after realizing she might just be in danger, every instinct Connor possessed demanded he take care of her.
So it seemed, for the short term, whether she liked it or not, she’d just gotten a few Doms of her own…
* * * *
Sunny woke with a headache that put her teenage drinking days to shame. She groaned as she rolled over, blinking her eyes open to find a glass of water and her bottle of ibuprofen on the nightstand.
She frowned, then her open closet door, complete with the white dress, brought it all back.
The men who had come to help at the shelter were the men from the club, the ones she’d had sex with, who had done things to her she’d never experienced before.
Her complete meltdownalsocame back to her, how she’d nearly passed out for the second time that day and had ended up kneeling at Connor’s feet like a well-trained pet.
Worse? Not that she’d done it, but that it hadhelped. That somehow, she’d pulled in enough breath to regain her center, that it had relaxed her enough to fall asleep.
Which made her pat down her front, fear creeping in. She didn’t really know these men, and they had evidently put her to bed. What if they’d done something to her? What if…?
Her clothing was still in place, the same things she’d had on before her panic attack. She wasn’t sore anywhere, didn’t find any signs that anything had been done to her.
It let her sit up and take a deep breath. The pills were a nice forethought, so she downed two of them with the water.
The sun outside was below the mountains, with the tops lit up. Even without looking at a clock, she knew the desert sky well enough to guess the time to be about five-thirty in the morning.
She’d slept through the entire night? How was that even possible? Sheneverslept well.
She pulled herself from the bed, then hit the lock on the door handle just in case. She changed out of the clothes from yesterday, and into some jeans and a T-shirt. She had the next two days off from work, so she wouldn’t need to go into the shelter.
Which sounded good to her. She needed a day or two to recuperate.
Or maybe a year…
She put her hair into a bun, though the tug at her scalp reminded her of how Connor had gripped it, how it had instantly lowered her stress level.
What is wrong with me?
She washed her face and brushed her teeth in the master bathroom—there was no way she’d be getting naked for a shower, not until she was sure they were gone.
It took nearly thirty minutes before she dared venturing out, to risk running into the men.
Though they couldn’t still be there, right? It was the next day. She had evidently slept through dinner, the evening and into the next morning. No sane men would hang around that long.
In the living room, she found her answer.