Speak of the Devil by Jenna Black

From the content of that note, it sure sounds like she broke into this house. If she conveniently left some evidence behind…”
    “Did you tell anyone about what happened that day?” Adam asked me.
    I shuddered. “No.” I couldn’t look at him, fearing I would remember the terror that had shaken me as I waited for the lash.
    “Dom?” Adam asked, and I saw Dom’s eyebrows shoot up.
    “Why would
I
tell anyone?”
    Adam shook his head. “Just asking. I’d have an easier time believing Barbara found out because someone let something slip in a conversation than that she broke into the house and found the whip.”
    I winced. Adam could talk about this so calmly, not the least bit troubled by the hell he’d put me through. I had for the most part managed to suppress the memories, but clearly Barbie’s little fishing expedition had dredged it all up.
    “Besides,” Adam continued, “only an amateur doesn’t clean his whips when—”
    “Adam, shut up,” Dom interrupted as he slipped his arm around my shoulders protectively.
    The corners of Adam’s mouth tightened, but he stopped talking. I found myself leaning into Dominic’s body. Since he wasn’t into women, Dom was probably the only man—other than my brother, who seemed to have checked out of the human race— I could accept a hug from right now without having to worry about what signals I was sending. And I badly needed that hug.
    Without another word, Adam stood up and left the room. Great. Now
he
was pissed off, too.
    “I’m sorry,” I murmured, and Dom gave me another squeeze.
    “Nothing to be sorry about.”
    I groaned. “If only that were true.” A little self-pity, anyone? But I had ample justification for it.
    Dom ignored my whining. “You look like a woman badly in need of a drink,” he said.
    I had to bite my tongue to quell the protest I wanted to utter when he let go of me.
    “I don’t want a drink,” I said instead. I’ve never been much of a drinker, and I was upset enough that my stomach threatened to toss anything I put in it back up.
    “I’ll get you one anyway. You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to, but it’ll be here if you want it.” He flashed me a sad little smile, and I nodded in acquiescence. Dom stood up and reached his hand out to me.
    “I’ll wait here.”
    He rolled his eyes. “No, you won’t. Come on.”
    It would have taken more energy than I had to argue, so I took his hand and let him drag me to my feet. I followed him into the kitchen and took a seat at the table.
    Dom knew my tastes well enough not to try to convince me to drink anything too hard and manly. Instead, he made a perfect, frothy cappuccino and then added a generous shot of Frangelico. Adam’s host had made that drink for me once, and it had been damn good. And despite my misery, the smell of first-class coffee was more than I could resist. When he put the cup in front of me, I immediately picked it up and took a sip.
    I couldn’t help smiling a little in wonder. “You are an absolute genius in the kitchen,” I said, savoring the smooth, sweet aftertaste.
    “Thanks.”
    I took another sip, trying to focus all my attention on how delicious the drink was. Dom sat next to me at the head of the table, and his presence was a balm on my wounded soul. I realized he was the one man Iknew who was just an uncomplicated friend, not someone who wanted something out of me. That realization threatened to bring on the tears, so I shoved it aside and drank more coffee.
    My devastated mental state left most of my barriers and shields down, and I found myself asking Dom something that under ordinary circumstances I’d never have even considered asking.
    “How can you like it when Adam hurts you?” I immediately regretted the question, but Dom didn’t look offended.
    “I like it because when he hurts me, it doesn’t really hurt.”
    “Huh?”
    He smiled at me. “I can’t believe you’re actually asking me about this. You usually