Accidental Trifecta (8 page)

“Baby, you are killing me with that mouth of yours. Holy fuck!” Carl was battling to stay on his feet, hell, his knees were already shaking and he hadn’t even come yet. Looking up at Cam, Carl was shocked to see the man’s focus on him rather than the woman he was thrusting himself into. The lust shining in his friend’s eyes and his own body’s response answered many of the questions Carl had struggled with for years. Why
this
man? Carl had
never
reacted to a man before he’d met Cameron Barnes, nor had he reacted to any man since they parted that fateful night so many years ago. But the feeling that slammed into him felt like being hit in the chest with a sledgehammer, and for a few seconds he didn’t even remember to breathe. How would the two of them be able to resist the temptation to take one another again when they were going to be spending all of their time together? And how would Cam ever explain everything to his sweet wife, because it was obvious he hadn’t told her about him?

Realizing he’d lost focus, Carl ran his hands through CeCe’s hair and praised her wickedly skilled mouth, “Sweetness, you are going to undo me. Your mouth is so hot and your tongue is touching all the right places. Tighten your lips a bit and suck hard as I pull back.” When she did exactly as he asked, Carl’s head fell back as he groaned in satisfaction.
Better get her there quickly or
she's
going to send you sailing and you’re going to leave her standing on the shore.

Leaning forward, Carl cupped her breasts in his hands, lifting the weight of them with a gentle squeeze before zeroing in on her tightly drawn nipples. Rolling them between his fingers, he smiled at her low moan, “Aha, baby likes to have her nipples pinched, I see. I’ll bet your Master has all sorts of beautiful ornamentation for these lovely buds. Personally, I’m particularly fond of pierceless nipple bead rings. Lots of stimulation without putting holes in your lovely breasts.” Carl wasn’t a fan of needles and firmly believed you shouldn’t subject a sub to them. If a submissive was looking for that kind of play, then he wasn’t the right Dominant for her. But he certainly wasn’t above taking advantage of a sub’s piercings if she already had them, there wasn’t much of anything prettier than a woman’s jeweled breasts.

When Carl had first been introduced to the lifestyle of BDSM, he’d approached it like a typical cryptologist—he’d researched it relentlessly and taken each element apart with meticulous detail until he understood exactly how it worked and how each piece fit with the next. As a cryptology expert, he’d learned that almost everything was a puzzle in one form or another, and if you studied it carefully enough—the pattern and therefore the solution would be revealed. The bottom line for success in the lifestyle turned out to be finding a submissive whose needs aligned perfectly with his own. Just as with most precisely machined puzzles, the pieces had to fit together perfectly or nothing worked.

Cam was glaring at Carl and finally growled, “Get there. Right. Fucking. Now.” Carl raised his brow in response.
Maybe he isn’t having any more luck holding out against her
pussy than I’m having with her mouth.

“Okay, sweetness, let’s take a trip over the moon, shall we? Come now, baby.” Carl was sure CeCe had started coming before he’d even taken a breath. His cock was pushed all the way to the back of her throat and her muffled scream sent rippling vibrations up the entire length of his cock. He felt the electric charge of his release burn a path up and back down his spine then settle in his balls, turning his cum molten. The shockwaves of pleasure that radiated through his entire body splintered out making his fingers and toes tingle as he pumped the hot spurts of his seed down CeCe’s throat. Carl couldn’t remember the last time he’d come so hard that he had actually seen sparkles of white light dancing behind his eyelids.

He’d heard Cam’s shout and when Carl’s eyes were finally able to focus, he realized CeCe was still bent at the waist with his fingers twisted in her hair.
Fuck me, I’m an ass.
He gently unwrapped the silken strands of her glossy dark hair from his fingers and pulled her slowly back upright. Wrapping his arms around her, he hugged her against his chest while Cam put himself back together and then walked through a door that Carl assumed led to a washroom. When he returned, Cam knelt behind CeCe and Carl heard his soft murmurs urging her to part her legs. Carl chuckled when he heard her sleepy voice claiming she couldn’t move anything and maybe he could check in with her again sometime next week. Carl lifted her feet from the floor while Cam opened her legs. Once she’d been cleaned and dried, Cam wrapped her in a soft blanket and carried his sweet bundle to the bed.

Carl excused himself to clean up. Returning, he found CeCe sleeping peacefully on the bed and the door to Cam’s office open. Walking through, Carl saw Cameron sitting on the leather sofa with his legs stretched out over the low table in front of him swirling the amber liquid in the glass he held in his hand. There was an empty highball glass setting next to the bottle of Glenfiddich.
Should have known he’d have expensive taste in whiskey
.
Carl made himself comfortable before pouring a generous amount of the wonderfully smooth Scotch, he let it warm his throat as it slid south. Hoping the liquor would work its magic before the conversation started, Carl leaned back against the sofa and tossed back the rest of his drink.

“To answer the question I’ve seen in your eyes a dozen times since you got here—no, I haven’t told her.” Cam’s voice held apprehension, but Carl wasn’t sure what had him so keyed up. Was he worried his lovely slave would bolt? Maybe he was worried Carl was going to spill the beans and wreak havoc in his marriage.
Christ, this thing
may well
be a clusterfuck before it ever even
has a chance to start.

Deciding it was best to walk on the side of caution, Carl simply asked, “And?” It had been twenty-five years, but Carl could still feel the bond between himself and Cam as if it were almost tangible. The connection between them wasn’t as soul stealing as it had been twenty-five years ago, but it was still strong enough Carl had easily heard the enormous unspoken “but” at the end of Cam’s statement.

“Truthfully, it has just never come up.” Even though Cam wasn’t facing him directly, his profile was a study in frustration and tension. Hell, everything in Cam’s body language attested to his struggle to put his feelings into words. Cam's unsettled feeling was probably unfamiliar territory for a man who’d made a career of being unflappable and always in control. Hell, Carl was all too familiar with the fact Cam’s life would have depended on his ability to push emotion back to the point the man often wondered if he’d ever be capable of really
feeling
again.

Carl had been lucky, the last rescue mission he’d done as a Navy SEAL had been for a young woman who had meant the world to a couple of his friends. Jen Keating, now Jen McCall since she’d married Sam and Sage McCall, was a handful of the first order. Her sass, the fire in her eyes, and her ability to call out anyone around her had reawakened Carl’s hibernating soul. Watching his friends with Jen had made him wonder if there might be a woman out there with enough love to look past everything he’d seen and done. When he’d joined the Prairie Winds team, he’d gotten to know the other women his friends had married. Meeting Jen, Tobi, and Gracie had proven to him that his heart was still capable of loving.

There was no doubt about Cam’s love for CeCe, it was written all over his face. Carl understood how hard it must have been to conceal the truth from her. Anytime you hide a large part of yourself from the one person you are supposed to trust the most, it divides your attention and saps your energy. He didn’t know Cameron Barnes well enough anymore to anticipate what he might be planning, so he’d just wait the man out. One thing was certain, Cam’s lifestyle and his club would have provided him plenty of opportunities to replicate what they’d shared, so if CeCe didn’t know about their relationship, Carl had to wonder if Cam had abstained—just as he had.
Interesting.

They sat at opposite ends of the same sofa, drinking glasses of Cam’s expensive Scotch until the bottle was empty.
Thank God it hadn’t been a full bottle or we’d both be out cold
before one of us gave in and spoke
.
Cam finally set his empty glass on the table and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He took a deep breath and Carl could practically feel the man’s frustration fading away. “I’ve had a million and one opportunities to tell her. But I managed to find an excuse each and every time. It isn’t that she is judgmental, but she’s always seen me in a very specific role and I never wanted to risk damaging her view. God knows I’m terrified of losing her.”

When he finally shifted in his seat, turning to look at Carl, for the first time he saw fear in the man’s eyes. “Cecelia is a strong woman professionally. She is an excellent mother even though she doesn’t get to spend nearly as much time with Chloe as she would like to. She is a loyal friend and an understanding partner. Her submission to me is the greatest gift I’ve ever been given. But there is a layer of vulnerability that runs so deep even I only see brief glimpses of it on rare occasions.”

“And you think she’d feel like she had never really been enough for you if she found out? Is that it?” Carl had spoken softly because he didn’t want to wake CeCe, but he hadn’t tried to keep the disbelief out of his voice either. “You aren’t giving her much credit if you ask me.” When he saw Cam winch, he added, “Funny, I wouldn’t have ever taken you for a coward. But hell, what do I know—I’ve never told anyone either.” Although he didn’t have a woman in his life to tell, he’d never told anyone.

“Told anyone what?” CeCe’s soft voice sounded from the doorway.
Hell.
Carl wanted to groan out loud. How had two former Special Forces operatives both failed to see the very beautiful and very naked woman standing across the room from them? She didn’t move, nor did she ask anything else—she just waited patiently for an answer. Cam recovered first and simply held out his hand to her. Her feet seemed to move before her mind had a chance to register the gesture—she was obviously a very well trained submissive. Even though Carl wasn’t a stickler for every nuance of the lifestyle, he was always impressed when he met subs who were so in tune with their Dom that their trained responses appeared almost effortless.

As CeCe sat on Cam’s lap, Carl noticed her skin seemed to have a light blue tinge, he reached over and wrapped his hand around one of her small feet and shook his head, “Christ, baby, your feet are like ice. Hang on a minute.” He walked quickly into the room where they’d left her sleeping earlier, pulled the blanket from the bed, and returned. Once she’d been wrapped up and resettled on Cam’s lap, he sat back down next to them. Looking up, he found her dark eyes staring at him, clearly not intending to let her earlier question be forgotten.

*****

Cam looked at the woman sitting on his lap as she turned her gaze to him and hoped like hell it wasn’t the last time he saw such love and devotion reflected in her dark eyes. “Carl was talking about the fact neither of us have told anyone why we haven’t seen one another in so long.” He glanced at the empty bottle of Glenfiddich and wished like hell he’d brought out a bigger bottle. “The last time we saw each other, things didn’t go well.” Realizing his words would probably be misunderstood, Cam clarified, “The problem wasn’t between the two of us, but the school officials who were none too happy with us.” His chuckle sounded hollow, even to his own ears and he let it die quickly.

“I don’t think I’m following this. Why would the school officials being angry with you keep you apart for so long?” Cam leaned forward and kissed Cecelia’s cheek, grateful color was returning to her sweet face.

“Pet, Carl and I were very close at that time in our lives. We both came from families that were extremely wealthy, wealthy enough to ship off the wild sons they didn’t have the time or desire to manage. Sons who the school officials promised to tame.” Cam thought back on how betrayed he’d felt when his family had first sent him to St. Andrew’s. The school’s reputation for strict discipline had been well earned. He’d endured beatings with wooden paddles so severe he hadn’t been able to sit comfortably for weeks. When those punishments failed to turn him into the robot the dean had promised to produce, the Headmaster and his lackeys stepped up their game with caning.

The night they’d had to take him to the infirmary for stitches had been the final straw as far as his friend, Carl, had been concerned. By then, he and Carl Phillips had become extremely close, although their relationship had yet to take that final step. When Carl snuck into the infirmary to see him, he’d been horrified at what he’d found. It was the only time Cam ever remembered seeing Carl Phillips cry. His friend had never shed a tear during any of the punishments he’d endured, but that night Carl sat beside Cam’s bed and cried for his friend.

Cam had tried unsuccessfully to convince his friend that getting himself into trouble wasn’t going to help, but Carl had been beyond the point where he would listen to reason. Cam still remembered the wild look in Carl’s eyes as he’d vowed he would “take care of it”. And take care of it he had. The Headmaster was beaten so badly late that night he’d resigned and left the school the next morning. The two men who had pressed their obese bodies against Cam’s as they handcuffed him to the large rings set in the rock walls of the subbasement had suffered similar fates. All three men had been gone before noon the next day. None had identified their attacker, convinced of the promises of further retribution if they talked to anyone about what had happened.

Carl had never admitted being responsible, but there had never been any doubt in Cam’s mind who had evened the score for him. He’d spent the last two weeks of that school term in the infirmary battling a series of infections. Most of the time he’d been too delirious with fever to complete the schoolwork his teachers had delivered each afternoon, and the nurses always marveled that despite the fact he was so ill, Cam’s work had always been completed by the next morning. Most days Cameron hadn’t even remembered Carl sneaking into his room and working all night to complete both sets of homework, but his friend’s handwriting had been unmistakable. He would have been forced to repeat his freshman year if it hadn’t been for Carl Phillips’ unwavering friendship.

Realizing he’d been lost in his memories, Cam smiled, “I’m sorry, pet, I was thinking back to our freshman year. I was even more stubborn then if you can imagine that.” Her smile warmed his heart as he went on to tell her some of the antics he been involved in and how those had been handled by the staff at St. Andrew’s. Between Cam and Carl, they’d remembered so many stories he’d found himself laughing right along with her when she’d shaken her head and said she hoped their daughter didn’t inherit her father’s lack of respect for authority. But she’d shed several tears when they’d told her about the caning that had landed him in the school’s infirmary.

“We didn’t see each other during that first summer, but when we returned to school in September our friendship was even stronger than it had been when we’d parted the previous June,” Cameron paused because this was the point of the story when everything changed. One touch had changed both of their lives forever.

When Cam felt like his throat was closing, Carl continued the story. “CeCe, things had already started to change at the end of our freshman year. Cam doesn’t remember a lot from those last two weeks because the fever he battled often made him so delirious he barely knew his own name. He’s forgotten so much of that time, but it really never mattered because after we came back as sophomores our relationship changed very quickly.”

Cameron watched as understanding dawned in Cecelia’s dark eyes. He hadn’t even known he was holding his breath until he realized her expression was one of compassion, not condemnation. He saw her reach for Carl’s hand at the same time she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “You two had a physical relationship, didn’t you? Is that what you have been so worried about telling me?” When Cam nodded, she shook her head indicating his worry had been unnecessary. “I don’t know whether to tell you how hot the idea is or to pout because you thought I’d condemn you.”

Carl leaned his head back and laughed out loud before pulling her hand up to press kisses against her knuckles. “You are absolutely enchanting, CeCe. It’s no wonder Tobi and Gracie speak so highly of you.” She blushed a deep crimson as he pulled her forward, kissing her chastely on the lips. “Your reaction doesn’t particularly surprise me though, hell, I don’t know you well enough to know
what
to expect, but you intrigue me. I’ll admit I also feel like a giant cement block has been lifted from my chest, and I’m sure Cam is going to say the same thing once he finds his tongue again.” Carl’s words seemed to kick Cam’s brain back into gear and he pulled his beautiful wife in for a plundering kiss that was meant as a promise as much as it was an expression of gratitude. Her unconditional love and acceptance were gifts straight from heaven, and he promised himself he’d make sure she knew just how grateful he was.

Cam didn’t pull back from her lips until his brain was screaming for oxygen. Once he’d finally caught his breath, he said, “You never cease to amaze me, pet. Your capacity for love and understanding are most likely going to get you nominated for sainthood one day.” When she laughed he nodded once before setting her on her feet. “I need to make a couple of phone calls and then we need to head to the airport. We aren’t flying commercial, but that doesn’t mean I want to keep the pilot waiting. Your luggage is already onboard the jet, love, so all you need to do is head back to the locker room and dress. Carl will accompany you.” When she looked surprised, he smiled, “Let’s not forget we’re dealing with a security issue and you will not be out of sight until we’re convinced you are no longer in danger. I agree that Dark Desires should be a safe haven for you, but I’m not willing to bet your life on it.” He knew she had changed in the smaller staff lounge rather than the larger locker room members used, but that still didn’t mean she would be safe from harm if someone really was intent on hurting her.

As soon as he was alone, Cam braced his hands along the edge of his desk, and tried to calm his racing heart. She knew. She knew the truth and she hadn’t called him a freak or a pervert like the school officials and his parents had done. His parents had allowed him to stay in their home long enough for him to join the military and ship out. The night before he left for boot camp was the last time he’d slept under their roof. In fact, he hadn’t seen either of them personally in years. They’d sent their regrets when he and Cecelia had gotten married, and they had conveniently been out of the country when Chloe was born.

Picking up the phone, Cam called Fischer asking him to make the appropriate arrangements to move Lara into the penthouse and gave the man a head’s up about the harassment she’d endured at the employment agency. He could have sworn he’d heard the man growl. Fischer assured him
they
would make sure she was moved in immediately
and
that he’d address the issue of transparency with her. Cam wasn’t surprised to hear that his second in command and his brother would both be accompanying her. His team had deliberately put the word out that he and Cecelia would be enjoying an extended vacation and their daughter was in the care of family members. Anyone doing even a minimal amount of research would discover Cam’s favorite escape, and that was exactly what they were hoping for.

Cam had known Fischer was interested in the young woman he’d hired, but he’d said he needed to wait for his brother to arrive before acting on it. One night after the club closed, he and Fischer had shared a few drinks and Cam had confessed his envy of Fischer’s gift. His friend had rotated his bottle of Utopia in slow circles making a design in the condensation that reminded Cam of a game he’d had as a kid, but he couldn’t remember the name.

“Spirograph,” Fischer’s tone hadn’t been mocking, but it was easy to read his expression. “See? It isn’t just about
hearing
what people are thinking, often the biggest challenge is not completing their sentences for them or answering the questions floating around in their minds. And the quickest way to scare off a woman is to let her know you can hear her thoughts.” Cam had been stunned as the truth of Fischer’s words sank in. He had never considered how difficult life might be when you could hear what people were thinking, he’d only seen the advantages. After that night, he’d had a sincere appreciation for how challenging working at Dark Desires had to have been for the man he’d grown to respect and considered more of a friend than an employee.

Remembering Fischer explaining his grandmother’s prediction that the right woman’s thoughts wouldn’t be an open door, Cam couldn’t help but wonder if Lara was the one. Now that he thought back, Fischer had always taken a keen interest in the beautiful young sub. He’d warned off several Doms who had expressed an interest in her even though he’d never topped her himself that Cam was aware of. The fact Fischer had waited for Peter, and they were both going to be spending time with her, made Cam smile.
I hope it works out, even if it costs me a nanny. Fischer deserves the happiness I’ve found with Cecelia.

His second call was to his contact on the island. Juan answered on the first ring and Cam had to hold back his chuckle. He’d discovered that one of the unseen perks of having money was that people tended to answer your phone calls—God he hated voice mail and swore it had been invented by Satan himself.
Fuck me, I’m starting to sound like my dad.
His father’s hatred for all things electronic had earned the old man many eye rolls from those around him—behind his back of course because crossing the man who signed the checks wasn’t ever smart.
Makes me wonder how many times
I
’ve been on the receiving end of those
same
looks of impatience
.