Free Seduced by Three by Sylvia Ryan Page B

a few moments she would have to walk away from him and leave him standing alone in the street.
    “I’m sorry—”
    “Shhh. Our paths will cross again.” Van ran his hands over her shoulders and down her arms.
    “I have to go. I’ve been gone too long.”
    He nodded and let her go.
    When she turned, she caught the dim outline of a form coming toward them.
    “Shit. There is my guardian angel now,” Grace said, nodding to the shadow in front of her.
    “Not a boyfriend.” Van’s tone was wary.
    Grace smiled at him. “No.”
    As Sarge walked up, it was clear that he was fuming mad. He took his hand off the butt of his gun when he got a good look at Van. “What the fuck, Grace? We’ve talked about this. You can’t just take off by yourself like that.”
    “I told her the same thing,” Van said, stretching out his hand to Sarge. “I’m Van.”
    “Sarge.” They shook hands.
    Grace started walking, leaving them behind. “I told you I could take care of myself,” she called over her shoulder, through the tight lump in her throat. She couldn’t bring herself to look back. It felt like crap leaving Van out where it was getting more dangerous by the moment.
    The men followed, pacing themselves about twenty feet behind her. She could hear the murmurs of their conversation, but couldn’t quite make out what they were talking about. And right now, she didn’t really care. She felt like she was leaving a friend to die alone. How ironic, the field trip, her little diversion away from Sarge, had served its purpose, because now she was struggling with other feelings. Remorse had completely overshadowed what she’d been running from. It was the only emotion she was dealing with now. Survivor’s guilt was going to be a bitch.
    Back inside the shelter, Grace stripped down to her thong and switched out her wet tank top. She was about to climb into bed when Sarge returned to the pitch blackness of the shelter with the usual bobbing of his flashlight beam lighting each step before him. He didn’t say a word to her. He didn’t need to. Anger swirled around him, as tangible to her senses as any object that could be seen or touched.
    He moved toward the bed quickly, and before Grace knew what was happening, she was being pulled by the wrist toward the edge of the bed.
    “Let go of me!” she yelled, trying to struggle out of his grasp. Instead, she landed on her belly, the wind partially knocked out of her. “Stop,” she hissed.
    Sarge’s thighs were underneath her.
    “No.” His palm landed firmly on her ass with a crack. “You need…” He smacked again. “To learn a lesson.” Sarge landed two more stinging blows. “You will follow my rules.” Another arc of pain and heat stung her as his palm met her ass again. “Do you understand?” Another blow landed with a slap.
    Sarge released his grip on Grace’s wrist, and she scrambled away from him. It was too dark in the shelter for Grace to see the expression on his face. But she could hear him. They both were breathing hard.
    Grace was blindsided by the lust that tackled her. She was stunned. Moisture pooled onto the narrow strip of fabric between her legs, and words escaped her. She should be enraged, but instead she was incredibly turned on.
    The black void of the shelter was filled only by the sounds of their ragged breathing for several moments.
    “Now come to bed. I’m not going to spank you anymore tonight.”
    She heard him moving on the bed. She stepped forward cautiously until she found the edge of the mattress and slid onto it, facing away from where he lay. Their backs touched.
    Grace’s mind drifted and hovered on the verge of sleep when the pounding started and startled her awake. It came from somewhere upstairs.
    She felt Sarge jerk awake.
    “What—”
    “Shhh,” Sarge whispered. He leaned over her. “Where’s your gun?”
    Another house-vibrating pound sounded.
    “On the table.”
    The pounding continued as he slid off the bed.
    When he