I’d suggest you get a room but…”
Shit! I never heard Nathan come in. Tom swears under his breath, turns his head to regard his friend sternly over his shoulder. “Don’t you ever fucking knock?”
Nathan’s grin is unrepentant as he settles himself in the one chair in the room, tips his half full glass at us cheerily. “Hell, bro, I was invited.” He pulls his phone from his jeans pocket, makes a show of checking his texts again, then, “Yes, definite invitation there. So, are we planning a little ménage here? That’s not our usual style of course, but if you insist I don’t mind joining in, just by way of helping you out you understand…” He shakes his head, smiling at my shriek of embarrassed outrage.
I’m struggling under Tom’s weight, trying desperately to make myself decent. Tom takes pity, raises himself slightly and tugs my towel back into place before rolling off. I can’t help noticing his own towel has borne up far better than mine.
“Shit, you pick your moments.” He settles himself on the bed, propped up against the headboard and motions for me to join him there.
I do, and he casually drops an arm across my shoulders, indicating his support, his solidarity. And I appreciate it, I definitely do.
“Okay, we needed a word with you. Ashley’s been telling me what all this stuff with Kenny’s all about, and we agreed you need to be in the picture too. Okay, Ashley?”
I nod reluctantly. I can see why we need to tell him but still. Buoyed up—if only slightly—by Tom’s support I look Nathan in the eye, his face now serious as he waits to hear what we—I—have to say. I start with my customary apology.
“I feel so embarrassed by all this. It just confirms what you said, when I first arrived at Smithy’s Forge. I’ve brought you trouble, just like you said I would. I’m sorry…”
Tom stiffens, starts to protest, to reassure me yet again, but it’s Nathan’s hand that’s raised, silencing us both.
“I know, I know all that, know exactly what you’re going to say. Heard it all before, too many times. So understand this, Ms McAllister, because I don’t want to have to repeat myself. If I hear one more word from you about being sorry, about bringing trouble our way, about being a burden or any more of that fucking crap, I’ll be holding Tom’s jacket while he puts you over his knee and spanks you. Then I’ll take over and spank you myself. And believe me, neither one of us is going to be gentle. So enough now. We care about you. We all care about you, and we’ve all done things we’re not proud of. Let’s move on. Please.”
He’s glaring at me, and the room’s silent. I gaze at him, wide-eyed, wait for Tom’s reaction. When it comes, it’s in the form of one of his customary low chuckles. “Does that seem clear enough love? Either you drop the apologizing or you drop that towel and bend over. You choose.”
It’s certainly a tantalizing image, but I know my limitations. One angry Dom is more than enough for me. My answer is quiet, but firm as I look from one to the other, “I’ll keep the towel, if that’s all right with both of you.”
“Good answer. Now please continue.” Nathan settles back to listen.
I open my mouth to start, then close it again. Take a deep breath, try once more to work out where to start.
Tom grips my shoulder. “Would you like me to tell him, you just chip in if I get anything wrong, or miss anything important?”
I nod gratefully. “Yes please.”
“Okay, this goes back to when Ashley’s baby died…” Tom calmly, concisely, accurately, tells Nathan what happened, how I came to leave Kenny, how he came to be arrested, and my own stay at Her Majesty’s pleasure. Nathan’s eyebrows shoot up at that, although if I didn’t know better I’d have thought he looked vaguely impressed. He definitely looks impressed as Tom explains about my calls to Crimestoppers. On hearing that again, another thought strikes me. “Should
Shit! I never heard Nathan come in. Tom swears under his breath, turns his head to regard his friend sternly over his shoulder. “Don’t you ever fucking knock?”
Nathan’s grin is unrepentant as he settles himself in the one chair in the room, tips his half full glass at us cheerily. “Hell, bro, I was invited.” He pulls his phone from his jeans pocket, makes a show of checking his texts again, then, “Yes, definite invitation there. So, are we planning a little ménage here? That’s not our usual style of course, but if you insist I don’t mind joining in, just by way of helping you out you understand…” He shakes his head, smiling at my shriek of embarrassed outrage.
I’m struggling under Tom’s weight, trying desperately to make myself decent. Tom takes pity, raises himself slightly and tugs my towel back into place before rolling off. I can’t help noticing his own towel has borne up far better than mine.
“Shit, you pick your moments.” He settles himself on the bed, propped up against the headboard and motions for me to join him there.
I do, and he casually drops an arm across my shoulders, indicating his support, his solidarity. And I appreciate it, I definitely do.
“Okay, we needed a word with you. Ashley’s been telling me what all this stuff with Kenny’s all about, and we agreed you need to be in the picture too. Okay, Ashley?”
I nod reluctantly. I can see why we need to tell him but still. Buoyed up—if only slightly—by Tom’s support I look Nathan in the eye, his face now serious as he waits to hear what we—I—have to say. I start with my customary apology.
“I feel so embarrassed by all this. It just confirms what you said, when I first arrived at Smithy’s Forge. I’ve brought you trouble, just like you said I would. I’m sorry…”
Tom stiffens, starts to protest, to reassure me yet again, but it’s Nathan’s hand that’s raised, silencing us both.
“I know, I know all that, know exactly what you’re going to say. Heard it all before, too many times. So understand this, Ms McAllister, because I don’t want to have to repeat myself. If I hear one more word from you about being sorry, about bringing trouble our way, about being a burden or any more of that fucking crap, I’ll be holding Tom’s jacket while he puts you over his knee and spanks you. Then I’ll take over and spank you myself. And believe me, neither one of us is going to be gentle. So enough now. We care about you. We all care about you, and we’ve all done things we’re not proud of. Let’s move on. Please.”
He’s glaring at me, and the room’s silent. I gaze at him, wide-eyed, wait for Tom’s reaction. When it comes, it’s in the form of one of his customary low chuckles. “Does that seem clear enough love? Either you drop the apologizing or you drop that towel and bend over. You choose.”
It’s certainly a tantalizing image, but I know my limitations. One angry Dom is more than enough for me. My answer is quiet, but firm as I look from one to the other, “I’ll keep the towel, if that’s all right with both of you.”
“Good answer. Now please continue.” Nathan settles back to listen.
I open my mouth to start, then close it again. Take a deep breath, try once more to work out where to start.
Tom grips my shoulder. “Would you like me to tell him, you just chip in if I get anything wrong, or miss anything important?”
I nod gratefully. “Yes please.”
“Okay, this goes back to when Ashley’s baby died…” Tom calmly, concisely, accurately, tells Nathan what happened, how I came to leave Kenny, how he came to be arrested, and my own stay at Her Majesty’s pleasure. Nathan’s eyebrows shoot up at that, although if I didn’t know better I’d have thought he looked vaguely impressed. He definitely looks impressed as Tom explains about my calls to Crimestoppers. On hearing that again, another thought strikes me. “Should
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