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“Don’t shove her hard enough, she’ll be afraid for the rest of her life.” Flicking his fingers toward the table, he continued, “That was a productive scene, for both of you. We can be too close to the picture to see it clearly, miss the vital details. I like monitoring scenes because I get to read the players, Merrick. I get to see the big picture unravel in real time.”

Too tired and edgy to play word games when he wanted Tamsyn on his lap in a quiet space, Merrick folded his arms over his chest.

“All I’m saying is don’t be afraid to challenge her; she’s gutsy enough to handle you if you give her the confidence. Trauma doesn’t make her weak, Merrick. Being treated like she’s fragile every time she catches her breath will do that.”

All right, his friend had a point. Tamsyn had fired up when Ford accused her of being a coward for wanting to go home, inciting her temper enough she’d stripped without thinking about it. If she was pushed, truly challenged, what kind of submissive would he have on his hands?

Fiery. Passionate. Sassy.

The confidence would come—it was already flourishing like a seedling burrowing through decades of rotten undergrowth. She thrived the more he touched her, taking each experience and learning from it; learning about herself and her needs, as well as his.

Wouldn’t it be interesting to see what she’d picked up from today?

“I’ll take it under advisement,” Merrick replied gruffly.

Fordham stifled a grin as he rose, the bundle of clothing in his arms. “You do that, big guy. Should you ever decide to expand her boundaries with some two-on-one, sign me up. There’s something about a sub with no filter on her expressions that’s strangely arousing.”

Because she couldn’t hide anything from her Dom, Merrick thought smugly. Not a damn thing. Pleasure, fear, pain, apprehension, arousal… she was an open buffet for men like them, feeding their desire for control and their intrinsic urge to protect.

“Don’t think she’s keen on exploring that far. I’ll suggest it, but that’s all I’ll do.”

“I won’t hold my breath. Need a hand with anything here?”

“No. I’ll get her cleaned up and bring her over in a few minutes.”

“I’ll order the drinks; you look like you’re ready for one.” Chuckling, Fordham elbowed him in the ribs before making his exit.

Merrick shook his head. It was good having friends who understood him.

Friends who were willing to step in, help, offer insight when they thought it necessary.

Evander’s dream was having a club where the membership was family. In Merrick’s eyes, the boss was doing a damn good job of achieving that dream, slowly but surely. It wasn’t immediate—nothing came of rushing bonds like that—but on a whole, they were all beginning to form those ties.

Returning to Tamsyn’s side, he ran the back of his fingers down her cheek, enjoying the way her cheek lifted into the caress. “Not sleeping, little owl. Faking it.”

She struggled to keep her face relaxed, but it only took a few seconds for a sweet, playful smile to curve her lips. When her eyes opened, however, they were hazy with fatigue. “Tryingto sleep, Sir. Too much talking.”

He snorted. “You were eavesdropping.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Of course you weren’t. So you didn’t hear me tell Fordham we’ll arrange a threesome next week?”

A muscle under her eye twitched. “You didn’t.”

Gently, he rolled her onto her back, folding the blanket up over her waist. “He’s taken with you, darlin’. But then, you know that already. Legs open, little owl,” he ordered, tapping her thigh lightly, pleased when she let them fall to the sides. A soft growl rumbled in his throat. “Look at you. Freshly fucked and pretty as a picture.”

Hot color exploded up her chest and neck to stain her cheeks with embarrassment.

He wondered how red she’d become if he pulled out his phone and took a photo or ten as keepsakes.

“M-Maybe I should take a shower.”

“Oh no, darlin’.” He traced her puffy labia reverently, ignoring the stir of interest from his cock. “Gonna clean you up and take you for some quiet time. Next time, however…”

What was it about her that made his caveman instincts swell and erupt? Dabbling in his own cum wasn’t one of his kinks, but he wanted to paint it over her skin until everyone in the vicinity knew she belonged to him. A consequence of being in love, maybe?

Taking a handful of wipes, he tended to her pussy first, paying attention to every crease and fold. She stiffened slightly, finally relaxing with a soft moan that sounded more like a contented purr. Her clit was still sensitive; even the lightest touch jerked her hips.