Impact (Suncoast Society #32)(8)

“No, I meant about not renting a car.”

She glared at him. “What part of that did I not make clear earlier?”

“But I thought Lan said—”

“Well, you thought wrong.” Dammit, she wouldn’t let these two damn Doms get the better of her. Unless they pulled the Master card—which she suspected they wouldn’t due to it being a job-related issue for her—she would hold her ground.

On this matter, at least.

It was too easy for the two of them to tag-team her, and before she knew it, she was rolling over.

Not that rolling over was a bad thing with them, but dammit, she had her pride.

This time, she wouldn’t cede.

“Buckle up, buttercup,” she told him as she pulled away from the curb.





Chapter Three


Cris knew Tilly was being stubborn just for the sake of being stubborn at this point.

And also that, very likely, Landry wouldn’t step in because he was enjoying watching the power struggle from a distance.

Sadist.

Cris was also smart enough to recognize that playing the Master card with Tilly regarding this topic would go over about as well as a fart at a funeral. He’d worked too damn long and hard to regain her trust to pull a stunt like that.

Or to ask Lan to intercede on his behalf.

No, this was one of those things he’d have to work out with her.

With her sitting right there in the car, it wasn’t like he could call Landry and talk to him about it, either.

When they returned home, Cris changed clothes and headed out to the kitchen to make dinner. When it was just the two of them, they switched off the chore. He did notice that when it was just him and Tilly, she seemed to drop back into slave mode more and more.

It was the best feeling in the world, to have that trust from her again.

Of course he’d cook her dinner. Who said Masters couldn’t cook dinner? Masters could do what the f*ck they wanted, when they wanted.

And he wanted to cook her dinner.

Tonight, she’d even slipped on her leather collar and joined him in the kitchen wearing one of his old T-shirts. He’d donned shorts and nothing else.

He pulled her close, wrapping her hair around his hand and tipping her head back. “Who’s my good girl?”

She grinned. “Still not renting a car, Sir.”

He laughed and gave her a long, deep kiss that hardened his cock. In some ways, this was better between them. She’d learned how to take care of herself, to stand up for herself.

She didn’t brat but it was nice knowing he couldn’t steamroll her. That meant, especially in bed now, he could take control in ways he’d been hesitant to their first time around out of fear of her not stopping him if he crossed a line.

Now, he had no doubts she’d stop him before he derailed them.

He grabbed both her ass cheeks through the T-shirt and squeezed, hard, before smacking them. “I had other things in mind, Redbird. Like after-dinner activities.”

“Mmm. I think I could be persuaded in that direction, Sir.”

He nibbled on her neck, drawing a gasp from her when he nipped her, just below her ear. “Good, because I’m in the mood to give someone a spanking before I f*ck their nice, hot *.”

She squirmed against him. “We could do that before dinner, Sir.”

Even her tone of voice had changed, sounding subspacey, turning his hard cock into something that felt like molten iron in his shorts.

Now he had her. “After dinner, pet. I’m hungry.” One more smack delivered to her ass and he let her go, amused to see her sway a little on her feet.

Good.





Tilly knew trying to push or goad Cris into something before he was ready would only mean more delays.

He was definitely a sadist like that.

Not that she was complaining.

Now having spent several years married to Landry, she easily saw where Cris had developed some of his sadistic practices.

Again, not complaining in the least.

If anything, it only amped up her excitement, her need. She knew he’d make good to take care of her after dinner. One thing he and Landry had quickly learned was that post-reunion Tilly was not a woman who took well to tease-and-denial play.

If they teased her, they damn well better be ready to make good in short order. Winding her up and letting her go only made their own lives a living hell. It’d taken just one time of them doing that, Landry used to getting away with tease-and-denial with Cris, to end up with a screaming, and then sobbing Tilly, who alternately lashed out and retreated from the men, practically undoing in one evening all the work Landry had done trying to gain her trust.

She hadn’t even realized why she’d triggered so hard or so badly until the three of them curled up in bed and talked it out.

It was shades of rejection, of abandonment.

And both Landry and Cris had sworn that night never to do that to her again.

Making her wait a little while, for a definite payout, was one thing. Fun after dinner—fine.

If that didn’t happen, unless it was legitimate circumstances beyond the men’s control like a natural disaster or something, it risked setting in motion something neither man wanted to happen.

Landry still had his sadistic fun that way with Cris, but never with Tilly.

She didn’t even mind a little delay, especially if they worked her up to a frenzy in the process, much like Cris was doing tonight.