The Dom Who Loved Me (Masters and Mercenaries #1)(78)

Jake sat back on his barstool. “It’s a thing they do. Some families hug or have long discussions, Ian and Sean Taggart beat the shit out of each other. It’s their way. You’ll get used to it. Thanksgivings are fun. You should see what happens when Ian starts to give Sean menu advice.”

“I don’t tell His Highness how to run his business, he should keep his nose out of my kitchen,” Sean growled.

Eve was shaking her head. “That is such bullshit. Little Tag tells Big Tag how to run his business all the time.”

“Little Tag?” Grace had to ask. They couldn’t be talking about six-foot-three-inch, two–hundred-twenty pounds of pure muscle Sean.

Sean flushed slightly as he ducked into the huge double-door fridge.

“Ian’s bigger and older,” Jake explained. “From what I understand, everyone’s called them that since they were in school.”

She couldn’t imagine anyone calling Sean little, but Ian did have a couple of inches on him. Of course, Sean was way more handsome. “They should call them Sexy Tag and Sexier Tag.”

Sean slid the most decadent smile her way. He winked. “Thanks, babe.”

“And how do you know I’m not the sexier one?” Ian’s deep voice startled Grace. Grace noted that Eve and Sean didn’t flinch, as though they had known he was there all along. The six-foot-five-inch man filled up the doorway. He was in a pair of pajama bottoms and nothing else. He still wasn’t as hot as Sean.

“I know.” Sean gave his brother a superior look and went back to his frying pan. Already Grace could smell something heavenly. “I know my Grace. You’re not her type.”

Grace nearly laughed. Though they were practically twins, Sean was right. There was something dark about Ian Taggart that simply didn’t exist in his younger brother. Sean could brood and emote with the best of them, but there was always a light in his eyes. Ian looked a bit like a man who never laughed.

“I thought you were dealing with your subs,” Eve said, staring at the big man. There wasn’t a bit of desire in the lovely blonde’s eyes, merely the teasing look of a little sister. “What’s wrong, Ian? Did the pain sluts finally realize you’re never going to collar them?”

Grace leaned close to Eve. “There was more than one?”

Eve’s lips turned up in a conspiratorial grin. “Almost always. They call him all hours of the night and beg him to spank them.”

“They have names, Eve.” Ian glared down at her.

“Do you remember their names?” Jake asked.

Ian’s brows slashed together in an intimidating V. “How about we keep the discussions of my private life to a minimum around the newcomer?”

Eve rolled her eyes. “She’s not vanilla, Ian. She’s not going to have heart palpitations because she hears that you like to spank women. I think she’s figured out that it’s a family trait. Besides, it’s best to get it all out in the open now before she runs into your groupies and they start calling you Master.”

Ian’s eyes narrowed. Grace felt the weight of his stare. “That’s not what she calls Sean.”

Sean flipped the pan with the ease of long practice and caught the sandwich on the other side. He shot a look back at his brother. “Is that seriously your problem with her? Your problem with Grace is that we’re not in a twenty-four/seven relationship? When was the last time you were in a serious relationship, Ian?”

Ian’s icy eyes slid across her. “She doesn’t even have a collar, Sean.”

Eve sighed. “I’m afraid Ian takes his lifestyle very seriously, Grace. You find yourself in the middle of a family argument. Think of it as a belief system. This is Ian’s belief system, and he’s passed it on to his brother. Ian practically raised Sean, you know. Ian’s worried his brother can’t be happy in a vanilla relationship.”

“He’s thinks I’m a brat or a SAM.” Grace looked pointedly at Ian, who seemed a bit shocked she knew the lingo. SAM stood for smart ass masochist. A brat was pretty much the same. Both were a type of submissive a true Dom would avoid. She wasn’t completely ignorant. Sure, she’d gotten a lot of her information from romance novels, but she’d been on the Internet, too.

Sean slid the sandwich on a plate. “I told you she’s not a tourist. She’s already accepted me as her Dom. Just because Grace and I choose not to be twenty-four/seven doesn’t mean we’re not practicing in private. And it’s hard for her to wear her collar when she throws it in my face.”

He patted a barstool and put the plate down. He looked at her, a challenge in his eyes. She thought briefly about telling him to go hell and then practicality set in. Her stomach growled, and she really wanted that sandwich. Also, she couldn’t embarrass him in front of his brother. Openly disobeying him when they were having a discussion about Sean’s ability to handle her seemed a bit mean. She didn’t like Ian poking into their business, either.

“Thank you,” she said as sweetly as possible. She hopped onto the chair.

Sean’s satisfaction was an almost palpable thing. He kissed her forehead and urged her to give the sandwich a try. “Besides, she doesn’t need a collar. She’ll have a ring on her finger as soon as we pick one.”

Grace opened her mouth to protest because she wasn’t going to marry him to soothe his pride. Sean quickly shoved the sandwich in before she could get a word out. Grace would have spat it out, but it was heaven. The bread was crisp and buttery while the cheese was perfectly melted. She had been so wrong. She had thought sex was Sean’s weapon against her, but damn, the man could cook.