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“So much better,” she murmured emphatically. “Thanks for getting my meds. Migraines like that won't die without a little chemical assistance. I'll be nauseous for a while, but I don't think we'll have a repeat performance of the hurling Olympics anytime soon.”
“Good to know. I think you brought home the silver.”
Connie laughed as her body shifted to face him. “You're a nice guy, Thane. Before I freak out that I've been kidnapped, I'm assuming we're at your house? Not on some fancy yacht sailing out into international waters?”
It was a pleasant treat to hear the humor in her voice. “Definitely not a yacht,” he assured her. “But after the lecture the Avalon Masters have in store for you tonight, you might wish we were sailing to the Bahamas to avoid their wrath.”
“They can take their wrath and stick it up their—”
“Be careful what you say, Connie. They're standing on the moral high ground right now after last night, and I'm siding with them. What you did was irresponsible and put six lives in danger. What the hell possessed you to drive six months’ worth of whisky into the middle of nowhere and climb a fucking mountain, sugar? Were you gonna drink all those bottles in one go, or spread them out over a few days?”
She sighed. “Okay, for the record, I don't drink over a certain amount. Three glasses of white wine or two of red is my limit, otherwise it leaves me exposed to migraines. There is no explanation why I bought so much of something I normally wouldn't drink, and I can't remember any of my thought processes. I do know that I didn’t drink a bottle and a half—I fell and spilled a lot. I have no recollection of where I left my car, other than it was near an acacia tree on the highway…I think. Quite frankly, I don't care. No one grabbed Atticus by his big ears and told him he had to go find me. I just wanted to be alone.”
Okay, the gloves were off, he decided. Connie's speech was back to normal, no slurring, and she was using full sentences. She sounded brighter, which was a good sign. He glanced at his watch, saw they'd been napping for just over two hours, and reached out to switch the lamp on. He squinted against the sudden glare, then rolled onto his side to pin Connie with hard eyes.
Oh yeah, her color was back. Looking at her now, no one would believe he'd been ready to call an EMT just a couple hours ago. She blinked like an owl, then yawned widely, covering her mouth with her hand.
“Sugar, one of Atticus's friends found your car dumped in a Feather Bush. No skid marks, no signs that you braked. You literally drove your car into the damn bush, got out with your stash of booze, and headed into the hills. Luckily, there was no damage to you or the car, but you could have been seriously hurt. Were you drinking behind the wheel?”
Her entire demeanor changed in a heartbeat. The argumentative sub who was quite blaséabout the entire thing was gone, and in her place was an ice queen, her frosty cloak drawn tight around herself. Connie's lip curled as she pushed herself up into a half-sitting position, and her gaze raked over him disdainfully. “I'll pretend I didn't hear that, Thane,” she said coldly. “No matter how angry I am, how hurt, I would nevertake control of a vehicle while under the influence.”
All right, the Switch had a temper on her when she was riled, he thought with admiration. She certainly had the Domme persona down pat, but he had more stability in controlling both parts of himself. “No need to be defensive, Connie. It was just a question.”
“You know what, thank you for everything, but I need to go. Alicia will be worried I didn't come home.”
“You'll stay right where you are,” he corrected. “Alicia spent the night at Braun's.”
It was a swift blow, one Connie obviously wasn't expecting. She looked as though he'd just kicked her puppy, told her Santa didn't exist, and slapped her all at the same time. Her breathing hitched sharply, warning him tears might be incoming, but she shored up the hole and nodded as though on some level, she’d known there was no one to go home for. “Yes, well, Braun got what he wanted, didn't he? He can pass her off to Atticus, or to the care facility, with the assurance that they'll do a better job than I ever did.”
“He doesn't believe that. Atticus filled me in on the characters in this mess, and some of the events. From my seat on the other side of the fence, your friends are watching your back, Connie. You're not the same woman they know from six months ago, longer depending on who I talk to.” Thane rubbed his forehead. “I don't think they're trying to punish you.”
She laughed bitterly. “Watching my back? Try stabbing me in the back, Thane. I was doing just fine until Atticus stuck his nose into my business and flipped everything upside down. Now look at me.” She flipped the covers back and slipped out of bed. “The person I've dedicated my life to for over a year has been removed from my care. My friends think I'm incapable of handling myself, and are trying to shove me back into a submissive box. I don't need them to tell me I'm a fucking failure, because I already know!”
She was starting to piss him off with all this talk of being a failure, Thane thought. He swung his legs off the bed and stretched slowly, then stood as Connie started hunting for her clothes. He rolled his shoulders as he rounded the end of the bed, taking his time. She hadn't noticed he was on the prowl yet, but she would.
“The assholes just couldn't leave me alone,” Connie was muttering. “I was happy enough the way I was, and now—”
Thane's hand clamped down on her wrist as she gestured wildly, using it to swing her around. Her thighs bumped into the edge of the mattress and sent her sprawling over the bed, her rounded butt raised. He slapped his palm between her shoulder blades when she cursed him out and tried to straighten, then gave her a swift, stinging crack on her left cheek.
“It took those assholes hours to track you down in the desert last night. They wouldn't have rearranged their evening to do so if they didn't care.” Enjoying the bounce of firm flesh under his hand, Thane smacked her again. Okay, so maybe he liked the outraged cries she made, too. “Happy enoughisn't happy, sugar. It's making the best of what you've been given, and you deserve more than that.” Third strike, and his hand was smarting. “But this, this makes you happy, Con. Not the context, but the action.”
Connie bucked frantically. “This isn't Avalon, Thane, and it sure isn't a goddamn scene!”
He grinned and stepped between her legs, his stance wide so his thighs kept hers pinned open. “Very true. This is you and me, finishing what we started on Friday. Now, are you going to behave like the good sub I know you can be, or do I need to dig my restraints out of my toybox?”
Her buttocks clenched tight. “You're not going to prove anything, Thane. I chose what I wanted to be, I locked the submissive away, and no one has the right to tell me it's the wrong choice. All this bullshit about embracing both parts of myself. It's not as simple as that!”
He circled each cheek thoughtfully, scraping his nails down over the tender pink flesh his palm had warmed up. “Why isn't it? Ying and yang, sugar. Two halves make a whole.”
“Not when one half is damaged.”
“Hold onto the sheets, Connie,” Thane ordered, feeling a wash of pity sweep over him for the pain she was going through. She surprised him, though, by obeying his order almost immediately. He set his hand over her sex, dragging a single finger through her folds and finding her not quite wet. “Hmm. This bit isn't damaged,” he mused, teasing her hole until juices slicked his finger. “In fact, it's working perfectly.”
“That's not what I—”
“Hush,” he interrupted smoothly. He edged his legs further apart, pushing hers wider still. “Got a tight grip on those sheets? Yeah, you have. Good girl.” Setting both hands on her ass cheeks, he pulled them apart and perused the tight little asshole hidden away, ignoring her squeaks of protest. “After Evan did what he did, have you ever looked at this, sugar?”
Her breathing was escalating into anxious pants, he noted. She was beginning to tremble, aware of his scrutiny, afraid of his judgement. Well, she had nothing to worry about, did she? She was exquisite, every part of her, no matter what scars she bore.
