Page 98 of Donovan's Men

His eyes widened.

“I call it as I see it, and whatever it is, it eats away at you. Youpretendyou never think about it, but that’s just to fool yourself. And for some reason, the shooting has dragged all this up.” I waved toward Hamish’s bedroom. “And tonight’s going to be a lovely diversion. But your need to break people…” I swallowed.

“There’s nothing abnormal about being a Dominant.”

“Nope, there’s not. I don’t understand either compulsion—to dominate or to submit—but I agree mental illness rarely plays a part in those decisions.” I’d done some reading since all this came up, and the literature was pretty certain that most people who partook in BDSM were rational and cognizant of their feelings. Not to say abuse and mental illness didn’t exist within the community—just at a rate no higher than the average population. “Look, you don’t have to share. But Hamish is holding on pretty tight—and it’s not just us.” I gestured between the two of us.

Donovan stepped into my space.

Our gazes clashed.

Oh, his indomitable will would overpower Hamish—as strong as the man was—and it’d likely run roughshod over me if I let it.

“Uh…”

We turned to find Hamish at the other end of the room, near his bedroom door. He was swathed in a huge terry-towel robe, and his cheeks were pink.

Donovan placed a hand on my hip and pivoted me to face our partner. “You’re ready?”

Those cheeks deepened into scarlet. “Uh, I think so?”

After placing a quick peck to my cheek, Donovan headed over to Hamish. He grasped the man by his shoulders. “You know you don’t have to—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

I jerked at Hamish’s profanity and his tone while Donovan’s eyes widened.

“I’m not fragile. In fact, I think you’re likely to find I’m quite the opposite.” He glanced from Donovan to me and then back again. “I’m so ready that I’m likely to explode.”

Well, all right, then.

Donovan smiled. “I’m going to brush my teeth—”

“Spare toothbrush is on the counter. Tyson already has his. Five minutes.” With that, Hamish turned and scrambled back to his bedroom.

“Don’t we have to go through his bedroom to get to the bathroom?” Donovan quirked an eyebrow in evident amusement.

“Yes.” I shrugged. “His bed is on the far side, and he’s going to ignore us.”

“You want to go first?”

“Sure.” I pressed myself against him. “Then I’ll keep a place warm for you.”

“How big is his bed?”

I laughed. “A king. Apparently, his sister coerced him into buying it—maintaining one day he’d have someone to share it with.”

“Bet she didn’t think there’d betwosomeones.”

“Yeah, probably not.” I kissed his cheek and then headed into the bathroom. I caught a quick peek at Hamish. He lay in the bed—on the right side and facing the middle. Which meant he couldn’t see me. Likely, he could sense me, though. God knew I was attuned to him.

I pissed, washed my hands, and then brushed my teeth. I was meticulous about oral hygiene, but today wasn’t the day to be picky. I undressed and piled my clothes under my arm as I entered the room.

Donovan’d entered as well, but he’d pressed himself against the closed door—almost at the farthest corner in the room from Hamish. He turned when I stepped into the room. He cocked his head.

I nodded.

He slipped into the bathroom behind me.