Page 26 of Donovan's Men

Okay, that hit unexpectedly. “You’re saying you care about me?” Part of me wanted to know, and part of me turned wary—on high alert.

“Of course I care about you. You’re going to make me all better.”

I pulled the tea bag out of the mug and tossed it into the compost while I gathered my thoughts. “I hate to ask, but have you been drinking?”

He barked out a laugh. “You think I can’t be honest if I’m sober?”

“I didn’t say that—”

“Tyson gave me the good drugs. And I promptly fell asleep. Just woke up a few minutes ago. I have to piss, but I needed to talk to you first.”

“Will you be able to manage getting to the bathroom? Are you steady on your feet?”

“I’m relaxed in the recliner. Tyson shouldn’t have let me drink all that soda.”

“I’m certain Tyson would’ve worried about you becoming dehydrated if you didn’t.” I took a sip of my tea. “Soda? I thought you’d be a water person.”

He snickered. “You guessed it. We grabbed a burger and fries, and since he was having a soda, I figured it’d be rude if I didn’t.”

“Ah, fair enough.” I took another sip. “How can I help you, Donovan?”

“Tell me it’s going to be okay. That I won’t keep replaying it in my mind. That I won’t keep trying to change things when I know damn well that I can’t. Or stop my mind from going to an even darker place where Julie’s shot as well and Cole dies.”

I closed my eyes, seeking the right words. “Your mind is going to go to those places, Donovan. You need to keep focusing on what really happened and then move on to the place where you’re safe. Where Cole and Julie are safe. Why don’t we try some deep breathing—”

“Fuck that. I just need to get laid or something. Will you help with that?”

Words completely failed me. Because, firstly, wildly inappropriate. And secondly, oh my God, yes, so that in every way.

Donovan just kept right on going. “Are you a top? I don’t tend to hook up with tops, but I have in the past. I mean, I don’t let them top me, but…oh, you’re probably a bottom. A bossy bottom, I’ll bet. Always having the answer to everything and needing to tell people what to do.”

“Well—”

“Or maybe you’re the stoic type. I love breaking them.”

“Breaking?” Jesus, that didn’t sound good.

“Negotiated catharsis, Doc. We agree that I’m going to break you—physically and emotionally—using BDSM.”

That term perked me right up. My boss and her husband were hugely into BDSM, and I’d done tons of research when I’d learned that tidbit. Fascinated didn’t begin to describe how I felt when hearing the word. “And you think I’m the stoic type that you can break?”

“Yep.” He popped hisP.

Part of me was tempted to agree. To see what he could make of…whatever this was between the two of us.

“And I’d ask Tyson to watch.” He snickered.

My cheeks heated. “That’s…”

“You’d think it might be an invasion of your privacy, but I don’t think so. I think he’d want to be there—need to be there. He’s protective of you, Doc.”

“I’d say he’s protective of you.” Little gestures and gentle words that Tyson had offered today. And sure, most of that was cop to victim, but I sensed more. Mutual attraction better described what I’d witnessed both at the crime scene and later—at the coffee shop.

“He’ll never make a move unless you say it’s okay.”

What the hell?“Uh, Donovan, I’m not capable, nor would it be recommended, for me to tell Tyson to abandon his professional ethics. I’m certain you’re well aware that copscan’t get involved with victims. Just like psychologists can’t get involved with their clients.”

He huffed.