Scorching Desire (22 page)

Marco met Damon’s gaze and something passed between them—it would take a while for him to fully process what had almost happened to them, but for now what was important was that Tasha loved them, even if she didn’t use that word. Marco loved her, and if the look on Damon’s face was any indication, he loved her too.

*****

A few hours later, Tasha slipped out of bed. Despite their conversation last night, she had no intention of dropping this. Her assignment had been to deal with the blackmailer and to keep the Trinity Masters’ secret from getting out. She’d done that—both women involved were effectively neutralized. Sandra was dead and Jennie was so addled from drugs that Tasha doubted she remembered what she’d done. It also meant she wasn’t going to be of any help in identifying the person who’d paid five thousand dollars a pop to keep her on payroll at the BDSM club. It was entirely possible that once Jennie went to prison she’d be killed.

Unable to send the video of photos to anyone, and without the women who could testify as to the authenticity of the video, the person who’d orchestrated this was out of options. He could mail jump drives or CDs with the files, but that was risky—physical storage mediums were like tags in clothing. They said a lot.

The issue of Damon and Mark wearing matching rings on the video was moot. Whoever was behind this already knew about the Trinity Masters. Already knew far more about the secret society than Tasha was comfortable with. That’s why she had to go. If she was going to track this person down, she had to do it now.

A square of white rested on the carpet just inside the door.

Tasha backed into the kitchen, took some gloves out of her bag, pulled the neck of her shirt up over her nose and mouth and inched down the hall.

Crouching, she picked up the envelope. It was greeting-card size and made of thick ivory paper. Tasha frowned. She’d seen this type of envelope before—in the Grand Master’s office.

Tugging down her shirt, she shifted to sit on the floor, turning the envelope over in her hands. Sliding her thumb under the flap, she opened it and removed the plain card inside. The front was blank, and the inside contained a brief handwritten message.

Be happy, Tasha. This is my fight.

Harrison

Tasha pressed her fingers over her lips as the first tears fell. After a minute, a small laugh escaped her. She tipped her head back against the wall and hugged the
letter to her chest. Sitting on the floor in the dark, Tasha let go. Her husbands were safe, and for her that was enough. She could, and would, leave the rest of this battle to others.

She went back to the bedroom, stripped out of her clothes and slid in beside Marco, who pulled her against his chest. Tasha laid her cheek against his warm skin, closed her eyes and went back to sleep.

~~~~

Chapter
Fourteen

The Grand Master had given them a month to return and be formally married. They didn’t wait that long.

A week after Tasha had thwarted the blackmail attempt and stopped Marco from being framed for murder, when they were sure the police weren’t looking for Marco, they met in Boston.

Damon still didn’t understand who’d been behind all this—Tasha didn’t know or wouldn’t say, but with each day that passed he grew less and less concerned. He was relieved that his stupidity hadn’t nearly led to the outing of the Trinity Masters, and frustrated that he and Marco had been used as pawns in a larger scheme. But those were things he and his soon-to-be spouses couldn’t and shouldn’t have to deal with.

He’d flown to Boston on his own, meeting them there. Tasha had stayed in Chicago the past week, attending some of Marco’s additional rehearsals as Natasha the Russian girlfriend.

It had been lonely in L.A. by himself, but he spoke with them often. Tonight he would see them, touch them again.

They gathered in the ceremony room, each anonymous in their robes until the Grand Master appeared and ordered them to push back their hoods. Tasha smiled when she saw him and Damon couldn’t help the answering smile from curving his lips. Her hair was silvery gold in the cool lights that surrounded the altar. She made him feel young and untried when in reality he was jaded and hard. After the ceremony, they’d go to the honeymoon suite of a hotel, where, for the first time, they’d fully engage each other sexually. Damon’s cock twitched. He transferred his attention to Marco.

Marco looked like an alchemist or some dark sorcerer. The black hood pooled on his shoulders and his hair brushed his forehead. Damon had to look away before his erection got out of control.

“Join me,” the Grand Master said.

Together they made their vows. The ceremony held no legal standing, and yet was far more binding than anything the outside world had. There was no divorce among the Trinity Masters. They were bound for life.

*****

Tasha crossed her arms and then uncrossed them. She started to take a seat on the couch and then sprang up again. She’d been taught and trained how to handle any situation, but for the first time in her adult life, she had no idea what to do.

They were in a suite in a hotel not far from the Boston Library. The Grand Master had offered them each a separate room connected by a living area, but they’d
declined, opting to take only the large honeymoon suite. Marco and Damon were bringing their things up from the car, and, she suspected, going over their plan.

She’d caught snippets of conversation over the past week, and knew they’d been planning their seduction of her. It was sweet and thoughtful—something men did for women who baked pies and wore floral prints. Not women who had knife fights.

The wound in her side had started to heal and the bruise on her face was gone. Faint purple lines still marked her ass, but she hoped it wouldn’t derail them.

Hugging herself, she went to the bar in the living area. It was fully stocked. Wanting something to do, she made vodka martinis. The door opened just as she was pouring.

The guys left the bags by the door. Marco wore black slacks and a dove-gray shirt. Damon had on a black suit, white shirt and black tie. It was almost a tux, as if he’d dressed for a wedding. The effort was wasted since the ceremony demanded they wear robes, but Tasha understood the impulse. She was wearing a tea-length white dress with a collarbone-bearing neckline. There was tulle in the skirt, giving it body and accentuating the retro style. The dress wasn’t practical—it would be hard to fight in and wasn’t overtly sexual enough to help her manipulate anyone.

She’d stood in the store for an hour before buying it, terrified. No amount of explanation would be able to make Marco and Damon understand that in this pretty dress she felt unarmed and vulnerable. She wouldn’t have worn it for anyone but them.

Marco sauntered over, accepting the martini she handed him. He kissed her softly before taking a sip.

“What a good little wife we have, Damon. She has our drinks waiting for us.”

Damon laid a hand on her back and kissed her cheek before accepting his drink. “You would deserve it if she kicked your ass.”

“I can’t help it. She looks wifely in that dress.”

“Wifely.” Tasha had a bad feeling she was blushing. She could control her reaction if she wanted to, but she didn’t—she didn’t have to. “Well, you both look husbandly.”

They raised their glasses in a silent toast. Tasha took a sip and then set her glass down. Her fingers were shaking. They were standing close to her, crowding her against the bar.

She wanted to grab and kiss them, to move past this nervous anticipation and have their hands on her, but at the same time she was terrified.

Committing to this trinity was the most dangerous thing she’d ever done. It was a lifetime commitment, when previously she hadn’t let herself think about the future. Why would she? Eventually one of her ops would have killed her.

She took a seat at the baby grand piano in the corner. Unlike Marco’s natural-wood-toned one, it was shiny black lacquer. She caught sight of her reflection and almost didn’t recognize herself. Her hair was in a bun and the dress made her look soft and feminine. Is this who she was now?

She touched the keys, not pressing any of them. She’d always wanted to learn to play, but an instrument required regular practice and she’d never managed it.

Marco slid onto the bench beside her. She started to get up but he urged her to stay.

“Give me your hands.”

Tasha let him position her fingers on the keys. He leaned close as he whispered in her ear. “This is middle C. Use your thumb.”

She tentatively pressed down. A clear note sounded from the belly of the piano.

“Now your middle finger. And your pinky.”

Following his instructions she played one note at a time.

“Good,” he said. “Keep going in that pattern.” Marco put his own hands on the keys and started to play.

A smile curved her lips. “It’s ‘
Heart and Soul
’.”

“It is.” He answered her smile, still playing.

“
Heart and Soul
?” Damon came up behind them, laying a hand on each of their shoulders. “That sounds right. You’re now my heart and soul.”

Tasha’s fingers slipped from the piano keys. Damon tipped her head back, bent and kissed her. It was firm, bordering on demanding. As his tongue swept into her mouth, Marco took her hands from her lap and kissed her palms.

“Are you ready to move to the bedroom?” Marco asked.

Damon offered Tasha his arm, escorting them to the large, lush bedroom. The bed was huge, and it was a good thing because they’d need the space.

“Tonight we have a plan,” Marco told her.

She nodded once, clinging to Damon’s arm.

“If you get scared, don’t lock yourself away. Tell us.”

“I will,” she whispered.

Then they were both there, hands roaming her body, lips on hers. They took turns kissing her. She was breathless as Damon unzipped her dress. She wasn’t wearing a bra, but she heard him chuckle when he saw her panties.

“It’s stupid I know,” she whispered, embarrassed.

“I like it,” Damon said, turning her so that Marco could see her white lace panties with the word bride spelled out in rhinestones on the ass.

“Hmm, I’m not sure.” Marco’s hand slid down her belly. “Let me check.” He rubbed his fingers over the lace covering her mound and then pressed between her legs. “Oh yes,” he said as Tasha’s head fell back. “They’re very nice.”

Damon carried her to the bed. She pulled the pins from her hair, watching as they undressed. Marco’s movements were smooth and quick, while Damon was more deliberate, each button and zip given careful attention.

Marco’s cock was hard, jutting up from the nest of dark hair. He joined her on the bed, urging her to lie down. Tasha reached for her panties but he stopped her.

“Leave them on.”

He settled beside her, his left hand roaming over her chest. He was gentle to start, thumbing her nipples and cupping her breasts, but his touch quickly became more intense. He took a nipple between thumb and finger and pinched it hard enough to have her gasp, then he tugged.

Damon was finally naked—his cock was shorter but thicker than Marco’s. He spread her legs, settling between them on his belly. He traced the seam in the center of her lace panties, pushing the fabric into her pussy until she was lifting her hips.

“Wait,” she begged. “Let me touch you.”

“Not this time. Let us do this for you.”

“But I won’t be able to hold on. I’m already close. You make me…you make me…” Tasha couldn’t finish the sentence, didn’t even remember what she’d wanted to say. Damon’s mouth was on her pussy, his teeth scraping her clit through the lace. Marco bit and suckled her nipples as he slid a hand under her head and took a fistful of her hair.

Tasha clung to the sheets, but then grabbed her husbands, her nails in Marco’s chest, her fingers pressing Damon’s head tighter against her.

Damon pulled the panties to the side, his tongue making contact with her clit.

Tasha screamed, her whole body arching as she came. Pleasure tingled along all her nerves and she was only vaguely aware of Damon tugging her panties off.

“Tasha, look at him, look at Damon,” Marco urged.

She opened her eyes to see that Damon was positioned between her thighs, his cock hard and glistening. She licked her lips and looked between them.

“If you need more time.”
Damon’s teeth were gritted, garbling the words.

“I…I’m ready,” she whispered.

Damon guided the head of his cock to the entrance of her body. Marco hooked an arm under her left knee, pulling it up and opening her further. Damon slid in another inch.

It was glorious. Part of Tasha had been afraid that after all this waiting, penetration by a penis would not be any different than the dildos or vibrators she’d used and had been used on her before.

It was different, gloriously different.

She’d already come and her body was tight from the orgasm. She acutely felt his cock opening her, pressing against her internal walls. Marco was watching them, his gaze roaming their naked bodies before fixing on the point where Damon’s cock disappeared inside her. Having him watch, feeling his cock rubbing her hip, added another layer to her arousal.