Her shift at the hospital had been tougher than usual. She'd lost a hit-and-run victim who never regained consciousness, and had to forcibly restrain a belligerent drunk who didn't understand that she needed him to lie still so the doctor could stitch up a six-inch cut to his forehead--the result of a bar fight.

She killed the engine, shoved her car door open, got out, and--

"Hey there, bad girl."

Startled by the sudden comment, she screamed and spun toward the voice. Her purse fell to the floor, its contents strewn.

Tyrone ... Alex.

She recognized who the men were, but her heart raced with adrenaline at their surprise appearance. Fear battled with relief. Questions bombarded her mind.

"Wha--"

Tyrone cut her off by grabbing her upper arms, pulling her against his chest, and covering her mouth with his own. His tongue stabbed into her mouth, muffling the whimper that rumbled from her throat.

He'd never taken her this way, never even kissed her, so the surprise she'd felt seconds earlier evolved into shock that overwhelmed her into stunned silence. For the briefest moment, she let herself feel. Experience his big hands holding her with firm gentleness. His musky scent surrounded her, calmed her, yet spiked excitement through her. When he leaned back from the kiss, she couldn't help but blink at him, confused by his actions, confounded by their presence.

"I--" she tried once more only to be spun around and kissed again, this time by Alex. He cradled her face while Tyrone continued to hold her arms in a strong but painless grip. Alex was just as talented with his tongue as Tyrone, stroking into her mouth in a sensual, languid heat that stirred her blood. His scent was subtly different than Tyrone's. A little sweeter, spicier.

"Don't talk," Tyrone murmured in her ear while Alex continued to kiss her. "Listen and submit, and all your questions will be answered ... your desires met."

As his words sank in, she began to squirm, but they both held fast. She wanted to tell them she couldn't risk it. She was too afraid to let go again, but he and his cousin refused to give her the chance. The instant Alex stopped kissing her, he placed one hand over mouth and the other behind her head. Her eyes widened, and her arousal spiked.

"Mmm, sweet as sugar," Alex whispered, and then he licked his lips as if savoring her taste.

A war raged inside her mind--alarm at knowing she had no control over her situation--excitement at having these two men she'd known as friends take the decision ... and the guilt ... from her.

Instinctively, she knew they wouldn't harm her, although she silently hoped they weren't here just for a quick fuck. Would they be willing to give her all she needed? She had no doubt that Ty knew her preference for pain as a physical stimulus, but she'd never seen him spank a woman, much less fulfill anyone's more masochistic fantasies. And Alex was a complete mystery, an acquaintance she found physically attractive, but an unknown nonetheless.

Those uncertainties made her body zing with anticipation as the men gagged her with one handkerchief and bound her wrists with a second Ty produced from his pocket.

For a split second, at the final jerk of the knots, panic hardened her muscles. She shivered.

"Don't worry, Con," Ty whispered as he gazed into her eyes. "We've got ya." His reassuring words and earnest, honest gaze were a salve to her damaged soul. A sense of peace slowly settled throughout her body. The knowledge that both cousins were present--two men instead of one--helped alleviate her irrational fears. If something happened to one of them, she wouldn't be alone, bound, immobilized by physical restraints and unable to help.

She grunted when Ty lifted her over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing. Alex got the door, and Ty carried her into her own home. The setting mellowed her desires a bit, and she stiffened. She'd never brought any master to her home before. It had always been easier to meet up with them at the club, thus keeping that part of her life separate from the rest.

Ty swatted her butt, making her jolt, and she realized he'd noticed her sudden tension. His abrupt and brief spanking had a cathartic effect, and her muscles began to relax.

He was in control. He chose the location. It wasn't her decision or her responsibility. Her mind started to let go.

Tears of relief stung her eyes, but she blinked them away.

He carried her through the condo, turning this way and that, apparently familiarizing himself with the layout. After a circuit of the utility room, dining and living areas, he dumped her on the plush loveseat. She had to toss her head back to clear her hair from her eyes.

She didn't try to struggle with her bonds or get up and run, even though they'd left her feet free. Instead, she stared at them and waited with baited breath.

Alex flicked on a nearby light, so she had no trouble seeing their faces. Dressed in dark clothing, they appeared big, dangerous ... and alluring. Their skin was almost as dark as the night itself. Their appearances so similar, yet significantly different. Both were tall, fit, and so ... dominant. She'd often wondered what it would feel like to rub her hands over Tyrone's shaved head, across his broad chest. Now there were two men to watch, to touch. She licked her lips in anticipation.

Damn, she loved bad boys. It was why she loved it when club Doms called her a bad girl.

She knew good and well that she was far from truly bad. She'd never so much as had a traffic ticket. But she'd once thought she might be bad, when she was just a teenager and fantasized about being spanked. Some so-called experts claimed such tendencies came from troubled pasts, but that wasn't the case with her. Her childhood had been rather uneventful.

The fantasies didn't appear until her high school boyfriend playfully swatted her on the butt once when he'd shown up unexpectedly at her after-school cheerleading practice. The sting of that one strike was an electric jolt that made her pussy throb and heart pound.

From then on she knew she was different, and when she joined Incognito, she discovered ... acceptance.

Alex moved about the room, stepped around a padded footstool, and closed the window blinds.

Tyrone stood over her, motionless and imposing with his arms crossed, his muscled biceps bulging. His expression, usually so open and friendly, was serious and hard to read.

"You're in serious trouble, my sub."

Her heart tripped. Had Ty just called her his? She'd been called sub, slut, bitch, slave, among a host of other names, but never had anyone dared to call her my anything.

"You might think you've lost yourself, but I'm here to tell you that we don't intend to lose you." He looked her straight in the eye when he spoke, the determination evident in both his words and on his face.

Alex added, "And we're not going to permit you to hide or run away anymore."