Page 107 of Donovan's Men

Tyson touched my arm. “Where’d you go?”

Donovan struck a bodybuilder’s pose. “He was admiring my physique.”

I snagged a pillow from the chair and swatted him with it. Or tried.

He stepped back.

Before I could finish the swing, though, he stepped forward—right into my space.

My breath caught.

“You’ll share.” His dark-brown irises were nearly hidden by his widened pupils in the low light. “Whether we have the heart-to-heart tonight or in the morning doesn’t matter to me.” He squinted. “When’s the disciplinary hearing?”

“End of the month.” I tried for a smile. And faltered.

He tilted his head. “Tyson and I can give submissions?”

“Yeah. I mean, you’re not obliged.”

He scowled.

“But it would be appreciated. I have to write up a submission, but I have until the end of the week.”

“You’re worried about this.”

“I…” I hesitated. “What we just did made things worse. I should’ve…distanced myself. From both of you. You being here…” I blew out a breath. “It doesn’t help things.”

He nodded. “Fair. But I’m going to tell them I never saw you as my therapist.”

“I’m not certain your perception matters.”

“Well, I’ll make it matter. That is what’s at the heart of this. How I saw things. How I see things. To me, you didn’t cross anylines. And I know you see it differently. I can think you’re wrong and respect you at the same time.”

He sees me. Although I could make promises to these two men, my work would always be critical to my identity, and the thought of losing everything was devastating to me. As much as I just wanted to focus on the moment, having the hearing hanging over me like the sword of Damocles was a little much sometimes. When the worry broke through. When I faced, in stark, brutal honesty, what was likely to happen to me.

“I’m not one to tell you what to do.” He grinned ruefully. “I caught the worst cold ever during the middle of shooting a critical sequence. I wore a mask, took every drug available, stayed ten feet away from everyone, and didn’t miss a moment.” He chuckled. “Valentino wasnotimpressed. He pointed out we could have rescheduled.”

“So why didn’t you let them?” Tyson snagged the pillow from my unresisting hand. He grabbed the other two and put all three on the bed. We’d commandeered one from the spare room earlier in the day.

Oh, he’d put my orthopedic pillow on my side of the bed. Absurdly touched, I blinked several times.

Donovan brushed the backs of his knuckles down my arm. “You do what you need to in order to prepare. Tyson and I promise you won’t miss anything. I think I could sleep for a month—given how tired I am.”

Tyson pressed himself against Donovan’s back, laying his head against the man’s shoulder blades and wrapping his arms around Donovan’s narrow waist. “I’ll make sure you get plenty of rest and fluids.”

“Oh, you will, will you?” Donovan placed his hands over Tyson’s and held them tight.

“I’m okay if you guys do stuff.” I held Donovan’s gaze. “I honestly am not the jealous type. If you guys want to…you know…that’s totally fine.”

Donovan cocked his head. “And you can share afterward—but only if you’re comfortable. I’m not going to interrogate you. I’m not jealous either. I trust you.”

Was that one of his rules? I sought to recall what we’d discussed in the cabin on Friday night. Just four days ago—yet so fricking much had happened since. I trusted him as well. I didn’t need to know the specifics of what he did with Tyson. That wasn’t just maturity on my part—it came from a deep level of trust that I was only just coming to comprehend. “Trusting comes easily for me—with you two.” And frankly, with our incredibly busy schedules, being…wherever…at the same time would be difficult. Hands off might seem good in theory, but I could attest how challenging that might be—Tyson and I’d fought the constant force of attraction while we’d waited for our third’s return.

Donovan raised one hand to snag the back of my neck. He yanked me toward him, and without hesitation, I followed his command.

We kissed brutally. Hot, demanding, and necessary.

As I pressed myself against him, Tyson brushed his hand against my hip.