STRIKE.

KICK.

SLAM.

RUCK.

Club El Diablo Series.

ONE DOM AT A TIME.

PIERCING A DOM'S HEART TOUCHED BY A DOM.

DOMINATION IN PINK.

TWO DOMS FOR ANGEL.

CAUGHT BY TWO DOMS.

BAD BOY DOM.

LOVING TWO DOMS.

TEMPORARY DOM.

Yes, Sir by.

By Jenika Snow.

Brittin.

When my brother and his problems had me coming back to Stales, my hometown, I was scared not just for my twin's health, but also because I knew I'd run into Law, my bear-shifting ex, and the Sheriff of Stales.

Our breakup hadn't been grisly, but after nearly two years, the thought of seeing him again had everything tightening in me because ... I still loved him.

But that was the past, and I knew I had to move on, right?

Law.

Brittin was the only woman I would ever love. She was it for me, even if she broke it off because of my domineering ways. I screwed up when I lost her, and I spent the next two years regretting it. But she'd wanted space, and when she left for the city, I let her.

But now she's back, and it's my chance to show her I can give her everything she wants. It's my chance to show her I can be the man she deserves.

I just hope I haven't let too much time pass, because not having Brittin in my life is a fate worse than death.

1.

Brittin.

I knew coming back to Stales was a bad idea, but I also didn't have any other option.

He needs my help.

I thought of my brother, Blaine, my twin, the one person I've always wanted to shelter. He has issues, as does everyone, but at just three minutes older than Blaine, I always felt like I had to protect him ... even from himself.

I tightened my hands on the steering wheel and focused on the road. I left the city as soon as Blaine called saying he needed my help and that he'd really messed up this time. He had an anger problem when he was drunk and people started shit with him, even if said shit was harmless. Blaine also had a drinking problem, the same destructive one our father had.

That's how our father died. He'd gotten into yet another fight at the local bar-the same one Blaine frequented. Our father got his skull smashed in by a tire iron because he'd fucked with the wrong drunken asshole.

And if he continues down this path, Blaine will end up dead, his head cracked open, and his blood alcohol to the point it would be surprising he even can be conscious. Just look at how that ended up for our father.

The only good thing our father ever did for us was die, and as morbid and awful as that was to say, it was the truth. He'd been drunk more often than not, living off disability checks, using that money to pay the bare minimum of bills so he had a place to live, but the rest going toward booze. Hell, we had managed to survive off Ramen noodles, boxes of spaghetti and pasta sauce, and if we were lucky, some fresh fruit.

And the only reason we'd had money while growing up was because Blaine had stolen some out of our father's wallet when he'd been too passed out to notice.

God, we'd both been through a lot, but Blaine had taken after our father, and I hated that he hated himself because of it.

I know he did, because he'd told me more than once.

I should have never left. He might not have relapsed if I had been here.

I couldn't think like that, though, because statistically speaking, with the amount of relapses Blaine had already experienced while I was living in Stales, he probably would have done it anyway.

I blinked past the tears.

God, I hated this.

I increased my speed, the darkness around me nothing but a blur. I'd be in Stales soon, bail Blaine out, and then get him in a rehab program. It might be for the fifth time, but I wasn't leaving Stales until I knew he was healthy.

Can I even leave again?

Truth was Blaine and I had gotten a small sum of money after our father's death over ten years ago.

I'd invested my portion and, at twenty-nine, had a sizeable bank account because of it.

Blaine, on the other hand, had drunk all of his.

I can't leave him again. He's all alone. He needs me, and shouldn't be by himself. His disease will end up eating him up and spitting him out until nothing is left.

And that's why I'd left, because I couldn't take the shit anymore. Blaine had been on the road to recovery when I'd moved to the city, had even been sober for the previous six months. But I was a fool to leave him, to think I could escape this town and my life.

That had been nearly two years ago, and although I visited with Blaine during that time, I'd clearly been blind to how my brother really was.

And then I thought about him, another catalyst to my leaving.

My ex.

The man I still loved more than anything.

A bear shifter.

Lawson "Law" Blackwater.

God, just thinking of his name had chills racing up my spine. I shifted on my seat, remembering his touches, the way he was so possessive, and the flash of his animal behind his eyes.

I saw the town sign come in my view, and my heart started pounding. Blaine had called me from the police station, which meant I'd have to bail his ass out and see Law. There was no getting around that fact: Law was the Sheriff, and he had his hands in every little thing that went down in town.

It has been nearly two years since I've seen him, since I let him touch me.

Law, the grizzly bear shifter that now ran Stales.

Law, the man that had a name to match what he kept in line.

I tightened my hand on the steering wheel; driving through the center of town had the memories of growing up here assaulting me. When I didn't think about my drunken father, the motherless home life, the broken relationship with Law, or the fact my brother was digging his own grave, I'd loved this town. I had wonderful memories of it, but the bad outweighed the good, for sure.

And then I made the last turn that would take me to the police station, and I felt like I was entering an alternate dimension, like I was about to jump into the very pits of hell.

Okay, so that was a gross exaggeration, but right now, that's certainly what it felt like.

Law I smelled the lemony, sugary scent of her before I ever caught sight of Brittin. My entire body stiffened, my cock hardened, and my bear rose up. I didn't move, though, and stayed in the corner, sitting behind my desk, watching as she finally walked in. She spoke with Doris, the receptionist, and I had to grip the edge of the table to keep myself from going to her.

It had been nearly two years since I'd seen Brittin, and no matter how much I'd wanted to go to her, throw her over my shoulder, and drag her fine ass back home-because I knew where the fuck she'd been-I stayed away.

She'd ended things, and I wasn't about to grovel for her love again.

I'd screwed up, but she'd told me to let her go, and as hard as that had been, I'd let her go.

But fuck, it had been hard.

I curled my nails into the desk, my claws digging into the wood. I watched her speak with Doris, the worried look on her face. I knew when I'd brought Blaine in he'd call her. I knew she'd come for him.

Even though I had legitimate reasons for bringing him in, I could have said I'd done it just because I'd known she would come.

Blaine had a drinking problem, got in far too many fights, and he needed to get his shit together.

Doris stood, glanced at me, and gave me this sympathetic look. The whole fucking town knew everything about everyone, and that included the relationship Brittin and I had back in the day.

When Doris took Brittin back to the cells, knowing she'd want to make sure her brother was okay, I wanted to get up and go to her. She turned her head in my direction right before she disappeared down the hall that led to where the prisoners were kept.

I saw the changes in her when our eyes locked. I saw the way she stiffened, smelled the scent of her pleasure for me, and sensed how she wanted me but fought it.

She still wanted me, but the past rose up like a fucking wall.

I should have done so many things differently. I shouldn't have told her I wanted her to stay home, give up her career and dream, and run the house. She was a strong, independent woman, and because of my stubbornness, because I wanted things done my way, we'd drifted apart. And because I wouldn't budge from what I wanted, because I kept pushing her to submit to me, I'd lost the best damn thing in my life.