Page 32 of Their Reluctant Catch

Todd

Home safe. Savannah is with us. We’ll keep her here tonight.

I get a winking face emoji back.

* * *

Colton

Now we have her in our home for the second time this week, I know exactly what I want, but I don’t know how to get there. It’s time to give up the fight and do what Todd has been suggesting for days on end—give in to our attraction and act on it.

I want to strip her bare, put her in the shower, and wash the cold and dirt from her skin, but that wouldn’t be right. She isn’t in a state to object or consent.

For a few seconds, I struggle with my pride before I turn to Todd. “What do we do now?”

He strokes his chin, and his gaze softens as he watches our golden girl. “I don’t think we should leave her alone, but she needs sleep. Let’s take her to your room and tuck her in.”

I have no clue what we’ll do after we tuck her in, but I like the idea of her in my bed. “Okay.”

I stand and pull back her chair.

Savannah blinks but doesn’t speak.

Her catatonic state doesn’t sit right with me, but I don’t know how to reach her. Sleep might help.

I lift her in my arms, and she snuggles into my chest like she did before. I like holding her.

Todd exhales and rubs the back of his neck. “We need to get to the bottom of this. We can’t help her unless she’s open with us.”

“True.” I tuck her head under my chin. I could stand here all night with her in my arms.

Todd must be the rational and reasonable one. “Let’s get her upstairs. We won’t pressure her for answers tonight, but tomorrow she’ll talk…”

I start for the stairs with her in my arms.

“Even if we have to tie her to the bed.”

My cock jerks at the image—her wrists bound, her body pliant, the trust in her eyes as she gives in to me—to us.

The image is way too appealing for my peace of mind.

I scowl and shove away the thought. Not the time. It is not the damn time for kink play. She’s a woman in need, and we’re here to help.

When we reach the second floor, Todd passes me to open my bedroom door.

I cross the room in a few strides and lower her to the edge of the bed. Crouching in front of her, I rest my hands on her knees. “Come on, starling. Let’s get you in bed.”

She doesn’t resist as I pull off her jacket, then her sweater. She’s still damp and chilled from outside, so leaving her in wet clothes isn’t an option. I unbutton her jeans and pull the heavy denim from her. I leave on her bra and panties—we’re already walking a fine line.

Todd tosses me one of my shirts. “Good thinking,” I mutter, quickly slipping my soft cotton tee over her head. It swallows her frame and falls to mid-thigh.

I peel back the blankets and ease her under them, tucking them around her. She shivers and pulls the covers up to her chin. She looks small and vulnerable in a way that hits me in the chest.

We take turns in the bathroom, dumping our dirty clothes in the hamper. When I step back into the bedroom, Todd emerges from his own, dressed in sweatpants and a clean shirt. He tosses me a pair of loose pants with a drawstring.

“It should fit you,” he says. “I know you don’t have any loungewear.”

He’s right. Usually, I sleep in the buff.

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