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  Josie’s delighted laugh hit the air, relieving his tension. “Yes,” she affirmed, “my Sir.” She giggled more when Garrett felt an idiotic blush rise up his neck. “Don’t stress, whelp.” This time she threw out the nickname with warmth. “There’s not a lot Wyatt and I keep from each other. Besides, I heard you spying on us when you were a kid, too.”

  His flush turned into an inferno. “Fuck on a stick.”

  “Language.” After the admonishment, she shrugged. “You were a curious boy in puberty. I think I would’ve been shocked to not find you lurking one night. And as much as I love your parents, you sure as hell weren’t going to get the four-one-one on the birds and the bees from them.”

  Garrett kicked at the ground. “Now that the two of you have embarrassed me worse than the karaoke contest debacle, you gonna help me figure out what to do about Sage?”

  “Hey,” Josie protested, “you were good!”

  “I sucked ass. In front of Ellie Macallister.”

  Wyatt grunted. “Who got knocked up by Jason Yearborn before your senior year was up. We saved you from that tramp.”

  “Fair enough. How about helping me hang on to the jewel I did find?”

  Wyatt scowled. “Wasn’t that what we were doing?”

  Before Garrett could pile another layer onto the perplexity sandwich, Josie cleared her throat with diplomatic timing. “Master, may I speak boldly?”

  Wyatt nodded. “Sounds like a damn good plan, pet.”

  The woman took a moment to set Violet down, encouraging her to find magic snowflakes for Dora the Explorer and the Snow Princess. When she straightened, there was a glimmer in her eyes that conveyed a message of nothing but naughty. “Tie her down, command every sound she makes and every breath she takes until she can’t string two thoughts together, and make her see the light.” She lifted a grin back at Wyatt. “How was that?”

  The man burrowed his face into the cowl of her jacket and openly nuzzled her neck. “Beautiful, darlin’. Simply beautiful.” He twisted his head when Garrett returned nothing but a tense silence. “What now? You still having trouble understanding the directive, nephew?

  “I understand it fine.” He toed the ground again but put angry force behind the move this time, sending the snow into a fan that delighted his squealing cousin. “I just think there’s going to be a few issues with the mission execution.”

  “What?” Josie retorted. “Why?”

  Wyatt’s own response wasn’t so mystified. “Shit.” He drew out the word as he pulled away from his wife. Garrett swore he hadn’t seen such a glare out of his uncle since he was thirteen and accidentally flipped one of the tractors into a ditch of sludge. “Are you telling me the only action that play room of yours has seen lately is from the dust bunnies?”

  Garrett averted his gaze. It’d been a lot longer than “lately.” The last time he’d taken Sage to their BDSM play room, he’d been home on a fast three days of leave between the battalion’s missions, and Sage was just starting to show the bump where his son was growing. “Well, they’re bunnies,” he finally murmured. “So if they need a place to get their kink on, the Hawkins play room is—”

  “Goddamnit, Garrett,” Wyatt growled. “Don’t make light about this. Haven’t you been talking to Zeke about any of this shit? He’s an experienced Dom. I expected him to advise you better.”

  He huffed in exasperation. “Gee, so sorry, but Z and I are usually discussing other things, like how to take care of the scum-nuts threatening our national security while assuring our own balls come home intact. There hasn’t been a lot of time to talk about how completely lost I’ve been on how to touch my wife since she delivered our son while I lay unconscious three doors down in the hospital.”

  “So you’ve just decided not to?”

  Josie’s query didn’t accuse like Wyatt’s, but the implication clung. Heat spread up his face again. At this rate, he’d be able to shuck the parka and get a goddamn suntan out here. “I’m—I’m afraid of hurting her, okay? Her body’s been through a lot. Her heart’s been through worse.”

  Josie shook her head. “But you haven’t given her any safe ground to express that.”

  Pain radiated through his jaw as he clenched it…as his aunt’s words knifed into his heart. Sage had come back to him from death last year, but in many senses, he’d murdered her all over again. His wife, so used to being in control and “on top of things,” didn’t know how to access her vulnerabilities by herself. That was why their dynamic as Dom and sub was so important to her. She literally needed to be told it was all right to let go.

  And he’d gone AWOL on her.

  A growl full of self-loathing tore out of him. “Guess I’ve dicked this one up pretty good.”

  To his surprise, Josie grinned. Not so shocking was her little hop forward, followed by pulling him into a tight hug. “Good thing we’re here to help you un-dick it.”

  He threw her a sarcastic glance. “Oh?”

  The glee behind his aunt’s smirk gained more steam. “Sir, I think it’s time to show the whelp what improvements you’ve made to the barn.”

  Wyatt chuckled. “You took the words right out of my mouth, pet.”

  “I’ll handle the rest.” Josie flashed one more grin at Garrett before picking up her daughter and heading back toward their place. “This is going to be so much fun.”

  Chapter Three

  Sage had feigned sleep when it was time for dinner. The excuse wasn’t far from the truth. After losing it at Garrett in the yard, she’d tromped in and asked his mom to watch Race, knowing Maya Hawkins would cancel tea with the Pope to spend time with her grandson.

  Less than ten minutes later, Sage had gone back upstairs, put on sweats and a T-shirt, and buried herself in bed. She’d been there ever since.

  For the first hour after that, she’d tried to cry. Thrown her hardest concentration into it. Instead, every time the strips of her mental flogger came down on her soul, she’d taken the pain in a disoriented fog.

  You don’t deserve to be his wife.

  She felt nothing.

  You’re not fit to be a mother.

  Nothing again.

  You can’t handle all this. Maybe the only place you truly have value anymore is with those slavers in Thailand.

  She immersed herself beneath the covers and escaped into sleep. Though she’d roused a little when Garrett came in to check on her, bringing the savory scent of pot roast and fresh-baked bread with him, she quickly slipped back under.

  Through her groggy consciousness, she’d listened to Maya giving Race his bath. Baby squeals. Her mother-in-law’s laughter. Garrett’s husky chuckles joining in.

  A world she longed to join.

  A reality she didn’t deserve.

  In little stages, the house fell silent. She shifted, tucked the pillow back beneath her head, and curled back into a ball, steeling herself for the invisible flogger to return. She needed to stay strong. She couldn’t bend. She wouldn’t break.

  The bedroom door opened. The strong boot cadence told her it was Garrett once more. His normal spice and pine scent was enhanced by the crisp kiss of fresh snow, denoting he’d been outside not long ago. She also smelled food. Against every will in her body, her stomach growled like a rabid Doberman.

  “Sage.”

  For a split second, she thought about continuing her charade. Stomachs could sound like flesh-craving canines even when somebody slept, right?

  But something about her husband’s voice pulled her up like a physical force. A blend of tones she hadn’t heard for an achingly long time. Darkness. Demand.

  Dominance.

  Holy shit. He looked the same way too. His hair was slicked back from his face in some Euro-lux look, though he’d left the stubble on his jaw, which was now steeled as he stabbed his ice-blue stare at her. He wore a gray Henley that showed every magnificent line of his torso, which topped formfitting black leathers finished with his heavy motorcycling boots.

  Despite
her exhaustion, which didn’t feel like that anymore, her eyes widened and her pulse jumped. Damn, those pants…on the tree trunks that did double duty as his legs…wow. Where the hell had he even found them, out here in the middle of Iowa? And did she really care?

  “Uh…hi.” Her voice was raspy, sounding as stunned as she really was.

  Garrett didn’t return the greeting. After turning on the lamp next to the bed, he ducked into the hallway and reappeared with a lap tray loaded with food. Slices of the pork roast she’d smelled earlier were joined by seasoned potatoes, spiced apples, and pecan rice. Occupying a separate plate on the tray was a hunk of hot, heavenly-smelling bread, and another dish held a slice of chocolate cream pie that was destined to settle humanity’s “pie or cake” debate forever.

  “Sit up.” The words were light-years away from a request. Her husband’s face, unchanged from the unyielding stare with which he’d entered, backed it up. As soon as she complied, he set the tray over her lap. “Eat. Every bite.”

  “But I’m not—”

  “Hungry? The fuck you aren’t. Eat.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  It spilled out with barely a thought, as automatic as the sweep of her hands toward the knife and fork. She would’ve giggled if not for the deep breaths she took to wrestle down her astonishment, puzzlement, and…hope?

  God, like she could even dare to think that his kinky dream makeover meant something. They weren’t at home. They weren’t even in the same state. The play room wasn’t downstairs. Most significantly, they were parents now. Apparently, her new status as Mommy had canceled out her role as subbie. Not that she’d given Garrett any reason to want that from her anymore.

  He settled into the chair next to the window and watched as she took every bite. Sage fought against stealing glances at him, but between the silvery light from outside and the golden lamp glow from inside, his usual masculinity was transformed into a double-gilded vision of pure power.

  Ohhh, hell.

  She rubbed her legs together under the covers. The motion provided just enough friction to turn the tingles in her pussy to full-bore arousal. Forget about the flurries outside; her gut twirled with enough climatic turbulence for the whole county. And food was rapidly becoming the last thing on her mind. “Honestly, I can’t get through all of this,” she finally confessed, letting the fork fall.

  Garrett rose to his feet, looking like a tower of liquid flame brought to life. Despite what the sight did to her clit and its friends now, she huffed in resignation, assuming the return of her careful and understanding husband was surely near.

  World’s biggest mistake.

  “Not acceptable.” He punched every syllable with command. “What were my instructions about the food, Sage?”

  She couldn’t help cocking her head and arching her brows. “Instructions?” But even her snarky take on the word didn’t stop her vagina from clenching again or her heart from speeding to a new tempo.

  Garrett’s reply came with matching attitude. “You go right ahead and keep up that sass, sugar. It’ll just make it more fun to show you why you’re gonna need every ounce of nutrition on that tray tonight.”

  The remark was a sweep of raw arrogance, rendered on purpose by the only man on earth who knew what it would do to her. She didn’t try to hide her aroused whimper from him now. Garrett let a single soft chuckle out in acknowledgment but made no other sound until she started on the pie. Sage smirked in vengeance as she lifted the bite of pastry to her mouth but licked it all off the fork instead of biting it, making sure Garrett saw every purposeful inch of her action.

  A sound spilled from him mixed between a groan and a grunt. A fast glance to the beautiful bulge in the crotch of his leathers proved she’d gotten the upper hand she wanted, if only for a moment.

  When she dipped her fork in for her second bite of pie, Garrett snarled, “Stop.”

  Sage flashed a gloating smile. “Yes, Sir.”

  He walked back to the bed with steps that were more authoritative than before. Without warning, he yanked the pie off the tray, leaving the fork behind. After ducking back out into the hall, he returned bearing her snow boots and what looked like a floor-length parka made out of decadently warm, thick material.

  He stood next to the bed for a long second before speaking again. When he did, the words were definitely not what she’d expected.

  “Are you wearing panties?”

  Sage straightened and gawked up at him. “Excuse me?”

  He expelled a long but controlled breath. “Are. You. Wearing. Panties?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t filter her irritated embarrassment. “Of course I am. What the hell—”

  “Are they wet?”

  Now she blatantly sputtered. “Garrett, what kind of—”

  “All I want is the answer. Yes or no. Are your panties wet? Are you aroused right now, Sage?”

  She fumed and picked at the coverlet. “All right. If you have to know, then yes. They’re wet. You’d turn a diehard lesbian into a puddle right now. Happy?”

  “Considerably.” He punctuated his sentence by brushing the hair from her forehead, and a sigh escaped her lips. As his hand continued into the rest of her hair, gently tugging the strands to turn her face up to him, she groaned. Past his subtle smile and all that delectable scruff, he directed, “You’re going to get up now. You’re going to go check on Race before returning to this room, where you’ll get completely naked. Put on this parka and the boots and then join me in the barn in ten minutes. There’ll be discipline for tardiness.” He released her and stepped toward the door but turned back, eyeing what must have been the most stunned stare she’d ever worn in her life. “Better pull back the hair, sugar. Wouldn’t want to tangle it in the equipment. And yeah…bring the panties.”

  Without another word, he left the room. The silence that descended in his wake didn’t provide any buffer from her continuing jolts of sheer shock. Nor, she realized, did she want it to be. Though her heart thudded hard enough to make her shake and her lungs ached from holding her breath, every word of her man’s commands rolled through her senses with exhilarating promise. There was going to be equipment. There was going to be discipline.

  At last.

  Chapter Four

  Garrett relished the powerful crunches of his boots against the barn’s hay-strewn floor as he descended from the loft. It was chillier down here despite the space heaters he’d started to crank up an hour ago, but that was okay. The loft was warm and, by the end of the night, was likely to be downright torrid. That was completely fine by him.

  Why the fuck had he waited so long to do this?

  Bewilderment spurred the question more than regret. Tonight wasn’t for compunction. It was for reconnection. Reclaiming every inch of his woman. Stamping himself anew onto her body, spirit, and mind. Giving her senses the freedom they needed so her soul could fly.

  He silently thanked the Big Guy upstairs for Wyatt and Josie’s intrepid wisdom. But when Sage walked in, he realized the message to heaven was incomplete. Even in Josie’s poofy parka and the big furry boots, the woman looked like an angel sent just for him. Aside from the knowledge that she was completely nude under the garments, he was captivated by the golden cloud of her upswept hair, the reverence of each step she took, even the sweet uncertainty across her spun-from-the-clouds face. She was breathtaking. She was also completely his for hours to come—if his erection didn’t go into battering ram mode on his leathers first.

  Wordlessly, she approached him. Her gaze never rose higher than his chest, indicating she’d already started to piece together what his summons was all about. Like he was going to let either one of them forget? The corners of her mouth tilted up a little, lending to the overall mien of peace that palpably flowed from her. Damn. The way she glided right back into her submissiveness… It astounded and humbled him. She didn’t just want to submit to him. She needed this. And as she dipped her head lower, offering everything she was to him, the realization s
lammed that he needed it too. He would never deny either of them again.

  “Fancy seeing you here, mister,” she said softly.

  His first temptation was to flip a cute jibe right back. Instead, he firmed his jaw and held out a hand, palm up. “Panties?”

  Dutifully, she dug in the coat’s pocket and pulled out her lace thong. Once she pressed it into his hand, he ran his thumb over the material until he found the damp patch in the crotch. Fuck. Just a few minutes of their verbal foreplay had made her pussy produce quite a puddle.

  After he rubbed the spot a few times, he lifted his thumb and licked it with slow enjoyment. Sage’s high mewl was as perfect to his ears as her taste was to his mouth. “Delicious,” he murmured. It was the total truth. He loved knowing how her body responded to his power, how wet her cunt became for him. He showed her his pleasure by leaning down to kiss her, deliberately giving her just the tip of his tongue with the contact. He wasn’t in a hurry to take back every inch of the body and desire that were his alone to control.

  “Mmmm…more.” The pleading cry had clearly been smoldering in her and finally exploded out. Garrett witnessed the conflict on her face and stifled a chuckle. Perhaps not every part of his wife was fully on board with re-embracing her submission. That was all right too. He’d have more than enough pleasure showing her the way.

  He gently tilted her face back up, giving her another teasing kiss. But when she sighed and parted her lips, coaxing his tongue in, he pulled back.

  “We’re just getting started, sugar.” He made it more an admonishment than a reassurance this time, which turned the grass of her eyes into a dark forest of desire. So goddamn mesmerizing. He was able to tear himself away after a few long seconds, taking one of her hands and pulling her toward the stairs that led toward the loft. Once they stood at the bottom, he couldn’t temper his grin in response to her puzzled glance. The fact that his aunt and uncle’s “dungeon” was hidden in one of the highest points on the farm was an irony nobody had missed. But at this point, with his woman looking this fucking irresistible, he wouldn’t have cared if the play space was in the middle of the front drive.