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Until I found a way to erase my foolish fantasies and insulate my heart, I couldn’t take one more step down this precarious path with Nick and Dylan.
With a gulp of steadfast determination, I quelled my tears.Somehow, I’d find a way to tuck away my foolish dreams, draw a hard line in the sand, then carry on with my training.I’d take the knowledge they were willing to give me, then seek out a Dominant of my own, when and if I decided to.There was no need for them to fix me up with a stranger.I didn’t want a stranger, I wanted Dylan and Nick.And if I could only have them for a short time, then so be it.
“I appreciate your concern, but I’d rather you not contact Mika.I’ll find a Dominant on my own.”
“Nobody said anything about fixing you up with another Dom,” Nick snarled.
“Easy, bro,” Dylan warned with a cautious stare.
“No,” he challenged.“If we expect her to be open and honest with us, then we have to do the same.”
“Nick,” Dylan chided, his cerulean eyes flashing in silent warning.
“Savannah.”Nick gazed at me, ignoring Dylan.His charcoal eyes softened as he smoothed a hand through my hair.“We’re not looking to hook you up with a Dominant.The thought of you kneeling before someone else and looking up at him with your beautiful, trusting brown eyes makes me want to slam my fist through a lead wall.”
“I don’t understand.”I was afraid to breathe…afraid to hope.
“You’ve touched me, little one.In here.”He patted his heart.“And when this week is done, I’ll be carrying a piece of you with me.”
His words made my mind whirl like a carnival ride.Nick wasn’t making a declaration of love by any stretch of the imagination, yet despite the tension it was causing between him and Dylan, he was being honest.
“And you with me, Sir,” I replied softly before glancing at Dylan.Would he be taking a piece of me with him, too?
“I’m sorry, kitten.”Dylan’s expression was filled with sorrow and guilt.
I had my answer.
“You’ve nothing to be sorry for, Sir.”
“I’m good with a joke, but when it comes to relationships and shit…” He shrugged and shook his head.
When I caught sight of his emotional fortress, I realized I wasn’t the only one hiding parts of myself behind walls.As memories of Psych class back in college roared through my brain, the lesson about the various ways people hid their pain and trauma behind masks—especially masks of humor—had the puzzle pieces snapping into place.My heart ached for Dylan, not with pity, but sorrow for the ordeals—most likely in Iraq—he’d been through.
Desperate to help ease his fears, I cupped his cheek.“I promise I won’t ask you to marry me then.”
As he blinked at me in shock, I couldn’t help but grin.And when he tossed his head back and laughed, relief sailed through me.
“I like this sassy side of you, kitten.Claws and all.”
“I’ll remind you of that the next time you decide to punish me with edging, Sir.That suc…stunk, really stunk.”I glanced at Nick then flashed an innocent smile.
“Better, but you have a long way to go.”Nick smirked.“Where did you learn to cuss like a sailor?”
I shrugged.“I grew up in a house with colorful language.Sometimes, it just slips out.”
“Like when you talk to your sister?”Dylan grinned.
I nodded.“You can’t tell me that you two choir boys don’t swear.I’ve heard you.”
“True, but we don’t like to hearyoucurse.”
“You’re in construction, for crying out loud.It’s not like you’ve not heard those words and worse.I was at a site once and a guy asked if I wanted to see his purple headed yogurt slinger.I was like…seriously?”
Dylan started to laugh.Nick cupped his hand over his forehead and gaped at me as if I’d grown a third eye.
“Did you tell him yes?”Dylan asked.
“No.I didnot!”
