Page 62 of Lesson In Honesty
Mirror scene, Sierra remembered numbly. Whatever Mack did to her, Grit was doing to Tabitha.
Shifting from her comfortable position, she reached out with both hands. The makeshift benches were close enough to touch without stretching too far. “Tabby, look at me. Over here, lovely. Look at me.”
Haunted blue eyes ticked toward her in increments, lost and eerily blank. There was no recognition in them.
“Yellow.” Sierra shot a glance over her shoulder to Mack. “Yellow, Sir.”
Instantly, his hands lifted and he stepped back. Grit was already bending over his sub, stroking her back and talking quietly as the scene paused.
What he couldn’t see was how Tabitha sank deeper with every word, as though each one was a knife to the heart. Was shehearing Grit’s voice or someone else’s? Did she even realize it was his hands on her?
He must’ve picked up on it because he closed his eyes and cursed softly. “We’re done. When she disassociates, she needs to fight. I don’t think this is a fight she wants to win.”
It was one sheneededto win, Sierra thought. She remembered the first time Liam touched her, when she’d been afraid because anything pushing between her legs was usually forced in dry. His patience and determination, his absolute resolve that shewouldbe wet before anything penetrated her, was why they were here today.
How many obstacles had she overcome since then? Christ, she’d pegged a man, enjoyed threesomes, become a total anal fiend, and most importantly of all, found a love that survived the worst pain anyone could live through—all because she trusted Liam to guide her over that first hurdle.
She’d be damned if she let Tabitha fall.
Squirming forward to attain an extra couple inches, Sierra snagged her friend’s hands and linked their fingers together, being extra gentle with Tabby’s sore appendage. “Tabitha, snap out of it. You don’t get to hide from this. Trust me, you don’twantto hide from it. Sometimes we need to suffer through what scares us to get to the really good stuff.”
The briefest flicker in the blue.
“I don’t know Mack, not well anyway. I haven’t seen him naked, I have no idea what his cock looks like or how big it is. It might be a teeny-tiny pencil,” she muttered, trying not to offend him, “or y’know, like a donkey dick.”
When he snorted in amused affirmation, her belly twisted. Shit, was that confirmation of the pencil or the donkey? Knowing her luck, he was donkey through and through.
“Grit thinks you need to fight him. Fighting is better than hiding, right?” Squeezing Tabby’s chilled fingers, Sierra loweredher voice. “We can fight together, Tabby. You know we’re in this together anyway, so we might as well make the Doms work for it.”
Another flicker, a slow blink. Tabitha’s tongue flicked over her dry lips.
Offering Mack a silent apology, Sierra kicked out with her left foot, connecting lightly with bare, firm flesh. His thigh, maybe? Shit, was he naked already?
The soft, masculine grunt sparked something in Tabitha’s eyes. The dull expression began to fade, interest kindling and replacing the haunted look with something more like a predator.
“There we go. Fight, Tabitha. Make the bastards pay for taking what they want.” Where the hell were these words coming from? Sierra felt her own fire rising, feeding off the stress and pain she’d been repressing for months. Hell,years. “Kick his ass.”
Liam laughed. “Prepare yourself, Mack. I haven’t seen her like this before.”
Behind Tabitha, Grit was stripping off his clothes in record time. From the rustling sounds behind Sierra, Mack was following suit. Tension shimmered in the air, fueling the unfamiliar sensations coursing under her skin, transferring from Tabitha.
The rage she’d seen in her friend earlier was back. No longer dead and detached, her eyes were alive with the same fire inside Sierra.
Two women, one entity.
Grit pounced on his sub, his hand clamping on her neck a heartbeat before heavy weight covered Sierra’s back. Hot skin against hot skin, a fucking baseball bat pressing against her ass.
That wasn’t a fucking pencil dick, she thought as her eyes widened. Fuck, she wasn’t sure it was even in the donkey-sized range.
Mack’s cock was a motherfucking Macktruck.
Now she had a reason to fight. If he wanted to put that monster in her ass, he was damn well going to earn the privilege. She wasn’t a fighter, not even a little bit—she’d surrendered to Wyatt again and again because confrontation wasn’t how she did things—but she had to admit there was a thrill in making Mack’s goal more difficult.
With a battle cry that sounded more like an angry mouse squished between a rock and a hard place, Sierra gathered her strength and bucked. Her butt simply ground itself against Mack’s erection, wrenching a dark groan from him.
Well, that didn’t work.
Meanwhile, Tabitha was giving Grit one hell of a run for his money.