Kyle always woke first, something he’d grown used to. Daniel didn’t sleep in, but he preferred to take a long shower, to go through an entire routine to get his day started right.
Kyle’s morning needed a big cup of coffee. Nothing much mattered before that.
He all but stumbled into the kitchen, half-awake, expecting to find the room empty.
Instead, he nearly ran into Alison, who stood there staring at the fridge.
He stopped short, just before actually touching her, his brain catching up despite his lack of caffeine. It seemed like spotting her was as good as a coffee for waking him up.
The black collar stood out at her throat, and he admitted…it had been the right choice. It looked marvelous against her light skin, sitting right at the level where her hair fell.
Then he got a better look at her. She wasn’t moving, seemingly frozen in her spot. Whatever ran through her head showed on her face, and it was nothing good. She wrung her hands together, the action making the metal loops of the cuffs clink together.
What’s got her so nervous?
“Hey there, sugar. You okay?”
She blinked slowly, as though waking up. Still, when she spoke, her voice seemed quiet and distant. “I didn’t know if I was supposed to…”
He frowned, trying to work through what she didn’t really say. Finally, it hit him. He slid around her to put himself between her and the fridge.
She lifted her gaze to his, the immediate response more pleasing than it probably should have been.
“You worried about what we expect from you?”
She nodded.
Kyle backed her up a few steps before he grasped her around the waist and lifted her.
The little gasp she let out was gratifying, but not as good as the fact that she clutched his shoulders as he set her on the kitchen counter.
Kyle moved forward between her knees, so he could look at her and she had nowhere else to look but him. “I’m not expecting you to get up early and cook us breakfast, darling.”
She didn’t react to his closeness, and that said everything about how unsettled she was. “I thought…”
Kyle ran his fingers over the leather of her cuffs, teasing the skin around it. “You thought what? That we’d have you be our servant?” Her expression said that, yeah, that was exactly what she’d thought.
Well, no wonder she’d been so nervous walking into the place if she thought she was going to have no safety net, if she truly expected to be treated as a slave.
But that wasn’t it. She didn’t think it out of nowhere, not with the shadows in her eyes. She’d concluded it because of something she’d seen before, something she knew.
“What had you thinking that?” He continued to stoke her soft skin, trying to ease her, rewarded by her heart not racing as it had been.
He tugged softly at the restraints on her wrists, a way to try to focus her on his question.
“I’m not stupid,” she said, her voice low. “I know exactly what a slave does, what’s expected of one.”
“When have you seen slaves, darling?”
She blinked slowly, as if waking up. Well, she said more than I thought she would.
After a moment, she drew her eyebrows toward one another. She pulled her wrists, and he released her.
Part of being dominant was knowing how far to push someone, and he’d pushed her plenty.
Even though he let her go, though, he didn’t move away. It kept her on the counter and temptingly close. “You’ll tell me the truth,” he assured her.
“Good luck with that.”
Ah, there it was, that hard look in her eyes that dared him to challenge her. It drew him in, especially after seeing the softer side of her, after seeing her for that one vulnerable moment before she’d put on her armor again.
Kyle stroked his thumb across her pouty bottom lip, mesmerized by how it gave beneath his finger. “You will. Now, as the one in charge, I say you should sit right there and keep me company while I cook. Do you eat eggs?”
He pulled back and grabbed a fry pan from the hanging rack above them. When she didn’t answer, he twisted toward her and raised an eyebrow.
Pink spanned her cheeks, but she nodded.
Fuck, I like when I win with her.
What the hell was I thinking?
Alison couldn’t figure it out, no matter how much she thought about it. She’d stood in that kitchen, feeling like she was staring at her past.
She’d remembered the way her mother walked through the large kitchen of her childhood home, effortlessly, as though drawn by routine.
It had been routine, though. Her mother, Sasha, had known exactly what she was supposed to do, what was expected of her. Alison’s father had always made his expectations clear—to everyone.
Alison recalled the way he’d grasped her chin and cleaned a smudge from her cheek when she was six, his lips pulled down in disappointment.
Nothing in his world was ever out of its place, and he’d had the same hard attitude with Alison.
And worse than her little walk down memory lane? The way Kyle had witnessed it.
She’d all but blurted out the truth to him, drawn somehow by the way he’d moved her, the way he’d seemed solid when she couldn’t tell past from present.
Thank god I didn’t say it all.
At least Kyle hadn’t pushed. He’d cooked food, moving around the kitchen while Alison had remained on the counter. She’d thought about getting off it—mostly because he’d told her to stay—but she’d lacked the energy for that.
Instead, she’d watched him.
Kyle was odd. He worked as though he didn’t care about anything, as if he moved to his own music. He’d toss glances at her, as though making sure she was okay, but otherwise? He seemed unaffected by anything else, as though the world didn’t touch him.
He’d cooked scrambled eggs—hers mixed with veggies and everyone else’s with ham—and sliced fresh fruit. By the time he’d finished, movement in the rest of the house implied the other two had woken.
Daniel came into the kitchen, dressed in a pair of slacks and a button-up shirt. “Smells good.”
Kyle grabbed one of the plates he’d made and handed it off to Daniel, who pulled a stool into the kitchen.
Trent came in next, wearing only a pair of jeans, his feet and chest bare.
And holy shit…the man was built.
His skin was darkly tan, as though he spent a lot of time outside without a shirt. Then again, if someone had a body like that, why not?
Kyle took a plate of his own and hopped onto the counter, handing one off to Alison and balancing the other on his lap.
Trent pressed his lips together for a moment before he got a plate from the cabinet and served his own food. He piled on the fresh fruit, then came over to lean against the counter on Alison’s other side.
It left her between the two alphas, with Daniel across the way.
It was nearly as unsettling as it had been every other time. It wouldn’t be so bad if they weren’t so large, but it was as though there was no room for her in the kitchen, not with them there.
Trent shifted and offered her a piece of pineapple clutched between his fingers.
“I can feed myself,” Alison snapped.
“But I like doing it. Stop arguing, pet.” When he lifted his eyebrow, Alison reminded herself to fall into her role. You’ve only got so long to get used to it, so stop being difficult. She took the piece of fruit from his fingers, careful not to actually touch him. It was tart and juicy, and Alison nearly moaned at the taste.
Trent went back to talking as if he hadn’t done that, as though it weren’t weird as hell. “Gregory is putting in our information today. Any idea when to expect a visit?”
Daniel shook his head as he ate, finishing his bite before speaking. “Probably pretty soon.”
Kyle shrugged as he balanced his plate in his lap. “I bet you anything they’ll have someone come check us out before then. I don’t care how good Gregory’s rec is, no one as careful as this slavery ring is going to just accept some no-name trio from out of town.”
“They’ll accept us,” Alison said after swallowing another bite that Trent offered. “They need us. With the problems they’ve had here, they’d love some more scouts. This is going to be the last chance to make any good money, so if they think you’ve got something worth selling, they’ll risk it.”
Which brought her back to Anne, again, back to the reality that she was missing and Alison was still no closer.
Is she even alive?
A bump to her shoulder had her turning to find Trent staring at her. Being watched so carefully, having people who saw so much of her feelings, unnerved her.
She only offered a quick shake of her head, so he shrugged and picked up another piece of fruit—cantaloupe, this time—and offered it.
Alison took the piece, but it had become so normal already that she wasn’t quite as careful. Her lips slid against Trent’s warm fingers, tasting the juice from his skin.
Which heated her up in far too many places.
Not that he mentioned it. Did he even notice it?
He continued to feed her pieces, always giving her the best of the fruit on his plate, while her own food in her lap became forgotten.
Trent discussed the case with Daniel while Kyle ate—rather loudly—and chimed in from time to time. None of it required Alison’s advice. Not being the direct topic of conversation or focus for once felt nice. It seemed as though every moment spent with the three alphas made her the center, and she’d grown tired of it.
Other than the show she’d put on in the bars to tempt the scouts, Alison was far more of a ‘work from the shadows’ sort of woman. She didn’t care to be looked at, to be noticed.
Being noticed doesn’t tend to go well, in my experience.
So when they spoke amongst themselves, when she was able to just listen, to absorb it, she felt normal for the first time.
Besides the fact that she continued to eat the food Trent supplied. He’d steal a bite for himself now and again, but only of the things she wouldn’t eat. He didn’t mention it as he did it, as though it were nothing out of the ordinary. Stranger still, he seemed pleased by doing it.
She tried to think back to her childhood. Had her father ever treated her mother this way?
No. Mom did all the work. If anything, she’d be the one feeding him…
The thought did what it always did—made her tense. She recalled being in that house, always doing everything wrong, never living up to who she was supposed to be. What would he think if he saw her now?
He’d be happy to see me collared…
Fingers caught her chin the way her father used to and tugged until she met Kyle’s blue eyes.
The touch was the worst part of it. She was playing a stupid part, and she couldn’t even do that right. The way Kyle’s fingers gripped her chin—not hard enough to hurt, but then again, her father had never hurt her physically either—took her back to being that same kid.
“Whoa there, pet,” Trent said before taking the plate from her lap. She’d forgotten all about it and had nearly toppled it to the tiled floor.
Kyle held her chin, studying her expression. It was only then she realized how shallow her breathing had become.
She wanted to yank backward. She wanted to shove his hand away and tell him to never grasp her chin like that again, but the words wouldn’t come.
Be a good girl. Her father’s voice repeated in her head like an echo of a life she’d thought she’d killed and buried.
Telling Kyle to stop would mean admitting she couldn’t handle it, giving in, proving she wasn’t up to the task.
And the part of her that strove for perfection wouldn’t allow her to do it.
He let her go after another moment, and Alison curled forward, closing her eyes to slow her breathing. In. Out. Nice and slow.
None of the alphas rushed her. They didn’t tell her to get over it, didn’t even ask what it was. They only stayed there, like solid, unmoving presences, giving her the time to get her shit back in line.
When she finally shuddered, the last of that panicky energy slipping from her, Trent held up another piece of food. “Still hungry?”
Alison shook her head, not trusting her voice.
He set the food on the plate and placed it all beside him, then turned his focus on Daniel, whose gaze seemed locked solidly on Alison. “I’m thinking lasagne for dinner. We should make a list, because whoever stocked this place didn’t know shit about feeding people.”
The warmth of Kyle’s arm, the way Trent had shifted to talking about mundane things, all helped her regain her footing.
And wonder exactly how far she’d be able to take this.
* * * *
“Fuck,” Kyle muttered as he paced the length of the pool.
Trent sat back and let him storm about. That was Kyle’s way. Daniel was the sort to see a problem and try to fix it immediately. Kyle liked to talk it through until he all but killed it. Trent? He preferred to sit back and examine it until he had what he saw as a great idea.
So after Alison had gone upstairs after breakfast, ready to shower and get prepared for the day, the three of them had gone to the indoor pool.
Best place to talk without being overheard.
“She’s clearly lying about a past,” Kyle said.
“Maybe.” Daniel sat in one of the lounge chairs, at the foot so he was still upright. “Maybe it’s just a reaction to being around alphas for the first time?”
Kyle gave Daniel the sort of look that said he thought he was an idiot. “No. Nerves, those are one thing. I know what nerves look like. Her? That’s fucking panic.” He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back.
Kyle so often looked like the go-with-the-flow sort of person, and he was in a lot of ways, but give that man something he couldn’t fix, and he lost his shit.
“I walked into that kitchen and she was totally frozen, thinking we were expecting her to wake up early and cook us all breakfast.”
Trent snorted softly. When the other two turned their gazes to him, he continued. “She’s fucking difficult. She doesn’t want to talk, but look what happens she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do. Girl has herself a panic attack. Clearly we fucked up and need to actually give her our expectations.”
Daniel rubbed his hands against each other, staring at them as though they’d make the whole situation easier. “I’m going to be honest here and say… I’m not feeling entirely professional about her.”
I sure as hell get that.
Kyle huffed. “Who could? Girl looks way too tempting in a collar and cuffs.”
“We’re talking about giving her expectations, but that feels way too much like getting close to a line I’m not sure we can walk.”
“So what? We throw in the towel?” Kyle crossed his arms, pausing only long enough to send Daniel a withering look.
“No. We just need to be aware of it. Treat her like we would a sub we were watching for someone else.”
Sure, in a perfect world that would work. If she had a Dom of her own, if they were only supposed to be taking care of her, they’d have clear boundaries. In reality, he didn’t lie to himself well, and he knew she didn’t belong to anyone. I want her to belong to me.
Which was exactly the wrong thought to have.
“Ground rules for us,” Daniel said, listing them while lifting a finger for each, counting them off. “No kissing. Nothing sexual. Even if she offers, we don’t take her up on it.”
“Do you really think you’ll be able to say no if that girl offers anything?” Kyle asked.
Daniel pressed his lips together, then sighed. “I’m trying to keep us all from getting fucked over here. You’ve seen her react already. Do you really think she’s going to be in any state of mind to decide anything in the moment?”
Trent wanted to argue that point, but it was fair.
Subs who got a taste of something they liked, who had never experienced it before, often craved it. Normally that wasn’t a bad thing. Hell, how many had he shared with Daniel and Kyle over the years? Women who had begged for a little more, ones who Trent had been able to watch as they experienced it for the first time?
Too many to count.
Still, Daniel wasn’t wrong.
When Alison had her pupils blown wide, when she smelled like delectable arousal, that wasn’t the time for her to make any decisions.
“Anything sexual has to be agreed on by us all,” Trent offered as a compromise. At their looks, he shrugged. “I’m not an idiot. If that girl decides she actually wants any of us, we aren’t going to be able to just turn her down forever. But if we all agree beforehand, it gives her time to rethink it and makes sure it’s all on the up and up. Fuck, maybe dealing with all three of us will help her stay on good behavior, too.”
Daniel and Kyle exchanged looks, the closeness of the two grating on Trent’s nerves. Hell, it pissed him off. After everything, he was the outsider. He was the one cut off from the trio they’d been.
He pushed that hurt from his mind—now wasn’t the time to deal with it—as he waited for them to make up their minds.
Finally, both other alphas nodded.
“Sounds like as good a plan as any other,” Kyle said.
Even as they agreed, as Trent’s idea seemed to please everyone, he winced as he thought about just how appealing the stubborn, surprisingly fragile omega was turning out to be. If she did want to try anything with them, if they explored that together, how the fuck would they walk away at the end of the case?
He only had to hope she had more sense than it seemed he did, because he doubted there was any fucking way he could resist her.
* * * *
Daniel went over the list with the other two alphas a few times until they’d all agreed, which wasn’t something that was always easy for alphas.
They tended to like to get their own way, and even when they were a group, even when they didn’t get jealous, when they were closer than brothers, they still wanted to win.
However, after some push and pull, they’d come up with a general idea of expectations for Alison.
They’d decided to give it to Daniel to deliver.
Probably because I look the least threatening.
Which was funny, because anyone who got to know him realized that wasn’t an entirely accurate description. After spending some time with him, most women realized he was the one to be the most nervous around.
Alison was on the swing in the small outside area, the one hidden from prying eyes. Her hair was still damp, and it made it seem longer and darker, the curls lengthening beneath the weight of the water. She wore a pair of leggings and a long-sleeved shirt—both black. If that wasn’t a ‘stay away’ statement, he had no idea what was.
He closed the door louder than needed to signal his arrival without startling her.
Sure enough, her eyes popped open, and the look she gave him was chilling. Well, it was probably supposed to be, but his body warmed beneath the unhappy glare.
“If you’re here to talk about earlier—”
“I’m not. Not exactly, at least.” He pulled a chair from the table over toward the swing, then sat in it so he was facing her and their knees brushed. He could have picked the seat beside her, but he wanted her to look at him, and he needed to read her expression.
She was a difficult woman to pin down.
Don’t think about pinning her down.
“I had a talk with the others, and we figured you struggled this morning because you don’t have clear expectations. You don’t know what we want, and you don’t care for doing things blind.”
She sat up straighter but didn’t respond. A tightening in her jaw was set off by relief in her eyes.
This was why he wanted to be in front of her. The girl was a constant contradiction. She didn’t want to admit she needed boundaries, yet she did need them.
Difficult omega.
Still, Daniel kept on, figuring they didn’t need to call her out for each little tell of hers. “I printed up a list for you, so you know exactly what we want. Anything on that list you don’t agree with, speak up and we’ll discuss it.” He handed a paper to her, then tapped at the first line. “Which brings us to the first one. Honesty.”
And that didn’t go over to well. The paper crinkled slightly in her hands even though she didn’t voice a complaint.
Daniel kept going. “You don’t have to tell us everything, but if you’re bothered by something, upset, uncomfortable, you speak up. If you’re not feeling well one day, you tell us. If your knees are hurting, and we want you to kneel, you tell us you’re in pain.”
She opened her mouth, those full pink lips forcing him to focus on the topic and not how pretty they’d look stretched around his cock. As quickly as she was going to say something, though, she closed them again, as though she’d thought better of it.
He let it stand. They had a list to go over, and perhaps as they worked through it, she’d feel better about voicing her concerns.
He went through it, one item at a time. They’d included things they expected of her and things they didn’t.
She didn’t need to use any special address for them, didn’t need to wait until they spoke to speak, didn’t need to kneel unless requested.
They weren’t difficult, didn’t want high protocol. The only real chores they insisted on were all self-care-based. He didn’t need a housekeeper, after all.
One of the items further down hit a sore spot, and Daniel took a moment to address it. “You don’t care for losing your room?”
She gave him a withering look. “I don’t see why I need to sleep in any of your beds.”
“Because it’ll help you get comfortable. Not a lot of things create that sort of comfort more than spending eight hours asleep beside someone.”
“And how do I know you aren’t just trying to see what you can get out of this? Maybe you’re just enjoying however far you can push this? ‘Yeah, sweet, you need to take your pants off so we can really sell the ruse.’”
Daniel grinned at her tone, at her attempts to pull him in to some sort of argument.
She could rile Trent up, even Kyle, but not Daniel. He was too level-headed. “Don’t rush me, sweet. If you keep looking, we address sex and nudity further down.”
That got her to snap her lips shut with a loud pop. She scanned down, and he could tell when she reached it. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered.
“Not at all. What are you opposed to?”
“How about you taking my clothes?”
He offered her a smile—probably patronizing, but she was being purposely difficult. “Read it again. I’m not expecting you to be naked. However, again, when we have the visit, when we show up at the auction, you have to be convincing as a woman who has been living with us, being trained as a slave by us. How exactly will you do that if you’re so nervous about the tiniest bit of contact? How will we sell that if you don’t carry any of our scent?”
Alison’s gaze lifted at that, and damn if it didn’t spring up his own ideas.
Omegas could carry an alpha’s scent in a few ways. Being around one could cause it to cling to the omega the way smoke would, but it was a shallow scent that dissipated with ease. Contact—the sort Daniel had already mentioned—would make it hang on to the omega more readily, but it would also sit only skin-deep.
The real scenting, however, the way to truly claim an omega, would be with an exchange of fluids. Kisses could do it and so could oral sex, but the deepest sort, the kind that caused an omega to carry the scent of her alphas no matter what, was sex.
And that made him think about how it would feel to bury his nose in her throat and breathe her in, to smell that way their scents integrated and become something new.
A flame in her eyes, the reddish hue on her cheeks, all said her mind had gone to the same place, and that she liked it.
She’s never been with an alpha. She’s never carried one’s scent before.
His groan was deep and he had no hope of holding it in.
She took her bottom lip between her teeth, pressing into that plumpness there, making Daniel want to do it, too. He wanted to nip at her, to draw out a whimper and leave a mark.
Alison inhaled sharply, then dropped her gaze back to the page.
“So how little clothing are we talking?” Was that a quiver in her voice?
“We’ll go slowly. How about we start with not having every inch of you covered? The point is not to hide.” He nodded down at the list. “Anything else strike you as unacceptable?”
She shook her head, even as her gaze stayed locked on a single point.
Daniel could guess where it was even without her admitting it. “Really? Because you look pretty worried about something.”
She let out a hard breath, blown out slowly before narrowing her eyes at him. “If you know what I’m looking at, why do you ask?”
“Because you need to get better at asking for things. You don’t like to do it, you know? Even when it’s gnawing at you, you don’t like to admit you need something.” He didn’t bother to ask her why—she wouldn’t answer, and it wasn’t the time to press his luck—so he just left that statement and waited for her.
Finally, she huffed and sat backward, the paper resting on her thighs. “You know what it is. The last one.”
Daniel curled his lip into a smile. He’d known that one would stick. “Punishment?”
She gave him one curt nod. Ah, but there those shadows were again in her green eyes, ones that hinted at a past that wasn’t so far away to her.
Daniel reached out and set a hand on her knee. He wished he understood what she had going on in her head, that he could figure out what it was that haunted her. “Breathe, sweet.”
She did as he said, the beautiful way she obeyed as though out of instinct something to be treasured. Sure, the moment she realized she’d done as he said, her face hardened, but he only shrugged.
That first instinct always tells me the most.
“We’re not going to hurt you. I don’t care what you do, what rule you break, you will always be safe with us, and you always have your safe word.”
“Then why do we have to do all this? Why do we have to have rules and punishments?”
Daniel kept his hand on her knee. “Because even if this is all a ploy, what happens if the person evaluating us comes and asks a question—one any actual slave and trainer would know—but we haven’t worked this out? We haven’t been living like this? They’ll see right through it.”
“But somehow you think having safe words and rewards and punishments makes sense? You are naive.”
Daniel chuckled, his thumb rubbing along her knee, through the leggings. “I can’t say I’ve ever been called that before.”
“Slaves don’t have those things. They’re told what to do, and they do it or they pay the price, and let me tell you, the price isn’t some pre-arranged and worked out thing they agree to.”
Again, proof that she’d seen slavery up close and personal before.
“You’re so sure you know everything, but you never stop to think maybe, just maybe, we have some information. Trust me—”
“Why? Why would I trust you? I don’t know you.”
“And you haven’t tried to get to know me, either.”
She sat straight at the admonishment. She can’t argue with me on that one, can she?
“Do you want me to sign in blood?” The curt questions dripped sarcasm and Daniel’s cock perked up. Why was it that he loved sassy women? Women who enjoyed being brats were always a bit of fun, always pushing the limits, always letting him push back.
Trent had preferred tough women, yet he’d always wanted to spoil them rotten. He loved to praise them, to experience how sweet they could be, how they could melt. Kyle? He’d been the one to enjoy naturally submissive women, as if the way they gave in pleased him.
Which, Daniel wondered, might be one of the reasons they’d never found a woman for the long term. Finding one who fitted the wants of three such different alphas was a tall order.
We aren’t looking for that now, either. Trent isn’t part of the equation anymore and Kyle and I don’t need that.
Even as he told himself it didn’t matter, that they didn’t need or want a submissive, his gaze locked on where Alison took the pen and signed her name at the bottom of the list of rules.
It sure feels like it matters…