Garrison was stretched out on the couch, his hands folded on his stomach. On an air mattress was Connor—they had to have brought it with them, since she didn’t own one—with a blanket tossed over him.
She remained silent, staring at them, trying to figure out how to proceed. It would probably be rude to wake them up, right?
She took her lip between her teeth, a sharp pain telling her she’d chewed on that lip enough to leave a wound.
Just great.
A door opening made her frown, and she twisted to find Trent coming out of the bathroom, a pair of sweats hanging low on his hips, his hair going in every direction and wet from a shower.
And it was one heck of a sight. She wasn’t the sort to ogle men usually, but damn…
He might not be nearly as large as Connor, not as immediately impressive, but the sight of his chiseled form stole every coherent thought from her brain.
Well, all of them except for those about just how that body could be put to use. She recalled how he’d put the clips on her, how his warm breath had felt against her nipples, how he’d tortured her after removing them.
And just like that, her body heated. Any of the worries she’d had went away as she watched a drop of water slide down his throat, over his chest and each defined ab. When it hit the waist of his sweats, she whined, wishing she could follow the path with her tongue. It reminded her of how badly she’d wanted more, and how they’d all denied her.
A clearing throat forced her gaze up to find him openly smirking, as if he’d caught her and damn well enjoyed it.
If it was physically possible, she was pretty sure her cheeks would have caught fire at that moment.
He nodded toward the back door, then looked at her, the question obvious. Did she want to go out there?
Maybe, if he takes those pants off…
She tried to give her brain a shake, as if she could wake it up and make it behave.
To try and hide the reaction and give her time to get herself under control, she pointed at the coffee maker, then lifted her eyebrow.
Trent nodded, his smirk still in place, before he went outside.
Sunny took her time making the coffee—an entire pot so whoever wanted some later could have it—but the moment she followed him, she knew days of time wouldn’t have been enough to prepare herself.
Trent sat on one of her outdoor couches, and the desert sunrise suited him. It had risen enough to cast breathtaking purples and reds across the sky that lit up his tan skin.
“Thanks,” he said, which made her realize she’d once again been staring, two cups of coffee in her hands and zero appropriate thoughts in her head.
Sunny tried to play it off by offering a smile as she handed over the coffee and took a seat in the chair. She avoided the couch, wanting there to be no room for anyone to sit beside her.
“Sleep well?”
She breathed in the steam that escaped the top of her cup, letting the bitter scent of the coffee into her lungs like a ritual. “Yes, though I don’t normally sleep so long. You didn’t have to stay, you know.”
“I tried to explain this to you the other night—once you’re under a Dom’s care, they like to make sure you’re okay.”
Dom.The word drew up a moment of panic as it always did, like the filthiest thing a person could say. After the night of sleep, though, she kept it together this time.
“You don’t like that word, do you?” Trent spoke casually, though his gaze was sharp. He might play dumb, like the funny one who didn’t know what was going on, but his eyes gave him away.
“No, I don’t.”
“Why?”
“My ex used it.”
Trent nodded, then put his feet up on the table. It made him appear relaxed and drove home the point that they were just talking, that he wasn’t going to press or come any closer. “And, judging from what I can guess, he was a shitty person, right? And now you think what he did is what all Doms do?”
“All? No. I’m sure there are good ones out there. I just don’t think the odds are worth the risk.”