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I barked a laugh because this was fucking ridiculous. “My bed?”

“Yes,” they both said at the same time.

“You’d risk my punishment to defy me?”

“Yes,” the cowboy stated. “If you want to dress me up like a dog or a fucking pony, I don’t care. But we’re not leaving. Not like this. If you truly want us gone, we’ll go. However, that won’t be until you’re acting civilized and under different circumstances. We won’t let you push us away because some dickhead was stupid enough to walk out on you years ago. That’s on him. Not you.”

Rage fizzed in my veins. They were standing up to me and it pissed me off. I preferred the fuck toys who took instruction, not the ones who thought they knew me.

“You feel the same?” I asked the pretty boy.

“I do. I’ve always believed things happen for a reason. We’re here because we were meant to be in your path and you in ours.”

I was too tired to argue about this anymore. Shrugging, I motioned them back into the house. “Whatever you feel you need to do. I don’t give a shit anymore.”

While I wanted that to be true, I knew it wasn’t.

And I suspected they knew it, too.

*

Brax

(The cowboy)

WHILE I WANTED TO PUSH Zeke to his breaking point, I knew it was best to back off. But only a little. And only for tonight.

However, I still wasn’t allowing him to push us away.

When Zeke went upstairs, I followed him. When he went into his bedroom, I was there, too. I waited until he had gone into his closet to change. When he returned, I was standing beside his bed with the chastity device in my hand. He cast a quick look at it, but then ignored me, walking around to the other side of the bed.

I was serious when I told him we weren’t sleeping in the guest room.

So, to prove my point, I got into the bed when he did.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he growled, his black eyes slamming into me.

“Going to sleep.”

Case didn’t seem quite as eager to earn Zeke’s wrath, but he finally complied, climbing into the bed behind me.

Zeke flopped back on the mattress, pretending to ignore us. I knew he couldn’t, because for the four weeks we’d been with him, not once had we slept in his bed. Not like this, anyway. The time he dressed me up like a dog didn’t count as far as I was concerned.

“Get out of my bed,” he said, but there was no conviction in his tone.

“No.” I didn’t care what he did to me at that point, I wasn’t backing down. I knew Zeke would toss us out at the first opportunity and I wasn’t going to let him do it. Not without a fight. He needed to know we wanted more from him than to simply be his playthings when he wanted to entertain himself.

“Fuck toys don’t argue,” Zeke stated, his tone harder.

“We’re not your fuck toys right now,” I clarified.

He bolted upright, then shot out of the bed. “The hell you’re not.”

This was the Zeke I could work with. The man behind the mask. The man who needed more than to beat on people. Beneath that crusty outer later was a man whose heart beat the same as mine did. A man very much like me and Case. A man with feelings. One who needed to know we were there for him. Not because he commanded us to be but because we wanted to be.

Knowing this could backfire on me in a big way, I inched out of the bed on Zeke’s side and came to stand toe to toe with him. I had to look up into his face to do it, but I didn’t care.

“Right now, I’m not your fuck toy,” I told him. “And you’re not my Dom.”

His eyes searched my face as though he was looking for the lie.

“We’re here because we want to be here, Zeke,” I stated, lowering my voice. I reached up and placed my hand on his wrist. “I’m sorry Matt hurt you. And I’m sorry he showed up tonight. But I’m not gonna let him ruin this.”

“There’s nothing for him to ruin,” Zeke said, but his tone had softened. “We all knew this was going to end at some point.”

“No,” I argued. “We didn’t. Perhaps you did, but Case and I … we don’t want this to end.”

I knew I was assuming Case felt the same way I did, but I didn’t care about that, either. I knew Case on a primal level and I knew how he felt about Zeke without him having to tell me.

“What do you want from me?” Zeke asked, his words softer than I’d ever heard them.

At some point between seeing Matt at the club and right this minute, Zeke’s armor had been stripped away. He wasn’t the Sadist and we weren’t his fuck toys.