DALE

“DO YOU THINK she is going to be okay here, Kid?” I huffed from behind a stack of boxes taller than I am. It was the last week of April and fucking hot.

“Amber will be fine,” Sal declared, setting his stack down and assessing the mess we have made. “We are going to go get her animals in a couple weeks, and she will calm down, I promise. I know her, Hoss. How many more are in your truck?”

“I think four,” I said, thumping his shoulder. “Two and two?”

“Ya, one more round,” Sal agreed as sweat dripped down his forearms. His wrist covered in leather bands, beaded bands, strings, and more adornments than I would ever consider. On the other one, he wore his black sports watch, courtesy of Sibyl—we all had one. They gave all the agents two: one black and one silver both engraved with the talete, the mark of our silent work.

Having finished the majority of the main renovations—kitchen, living room, nursery, master bed and bath, we had spent the better part of the morning moving out of the storage facility. It’s a damn mess. With three houses shoved into one storage unit, the boxes serve as a reminder that it is no longer just Mae and I. Some of Amber’s things were shipped via my clean-up crew, and mom’s stuff is in there, too. Amber and mom are at her property, packing and cleaning for the real estate agent.

Her tiny house was well under way, mostly due to Raniero and his diligence, but it was still several weeks from completion. He knew the right people to get the job done. Thankfully, he outsourced most of the tiny house and barn construction, so he could help me finish the main house. He has worked his tail off for two weeks now, and I intended on wiring a hefty sum to his bank account when all is said and done.

As excited as I am, the fear is also real. Everything has happened so fast. I am terrified I may fuck this up. The only thing I was certain about—baby Mae. She was with Amber and the light of my whole fucking life.

I watched the Kid hop up in the back of the truck. He had been awesome. Not only did he work tirelessly, but stayed as my rock of stability in the change of tides. I just wished he could have slapped me sane before I went too far. But what was he gonna do? Really? I got major years on him. He knew I was making mistake after mistake. And I wouldn’t have listened to a damn word he said.

It all started with a little phone call.

I remember it so vividly. My phone vibrated my hip, and I lifted a finger at Sal to wait. He pulled off his ball cap, shaking out his damp curls and pushing his shades up into his hair. I was still trying to ignore the man crush I was feeling for my partner and best friend. Everything worked better that way—smoother. Ignorance was better than acceptance because acceptance led to a whole slew of trivial and some not so trivial issues. I had watched him grow through loss and change into a man. The only thing I knew was I didn’t want to lose him—anymore than I wanted to lose Mae.

And when I had that thought—that I valued Sal more than Amber—I knew I had a fuckin’ problem.

“Nice headband,” I chimed off to Sal as I answered the phone, “H—ello?”

“Yes, Serene, I would,” I said as Sal mocked a salute. My sister was actually inviting us to Juliet for a cocktail mingle this weekend. They were celebrating Cinco de Mayo. Some girl named Lyssa was hosting it. “We would love to attend. What time?”

A truck—almost identical to his—came rumbling past the drive and backed up slow as Raniero waved. He jumped off the tailgate, ran over, and hopped up on the running bars, hanging his body inside of the vehicle. I finished talking to Serene and headed up the slight hill to see what all the commotion is about.

“Dale, meet Zoe,” Sal said, beaming, “Zoe, this is D.”

“Hi, D,” she said with a smile. She was young with long curls, bright green eyes, and screamed fuckin’ trouble. She was gorgeous and smelled heaven sent as my johnson took note. I wished I could curtail that. By the thick collar on her neck, I already knew what she was, and I couldn’t help my interest. “You boys need some help?”

Sal looked at me and I to him. We didn’t really need her help. “Sure!” I encouraged with a welcome smile. “Come on up.”

As it turned out, Zoe was a force to be reckoned with. She hoisted boxes and moved furniture like she’d been doing it her whole life. And honestly, it was damn sexy. A couple hours later, we cracked a cold one out on the back deck and sat around bullshitting.

“How long have you been…” I motioned to the collar, unsure of what to say to not offend.

“I belonged to Mistress Serene since I was seventeen. She sent me for a contract six months ago.”

“My sister…” I rambled off, and she nodded.

“She sold you off to fucking Cristos,” Sal tossed in his two cents.

“She didn’t sell me,” Zoe argued, sipping her beer. “I wanted to go.”

“Ya, right,” Sal rebuked, brushing the notions off and swigging his beer. I worried he might decide to escalate the issue, and I cringed as my predictions came true. “Bullshit, Zoe. You and I both know she sold your ass. You are only here for a one week break.”

“Perhaps she did,” Zoe said, peeling the label off her beer. “But it doesn’t change the fact you will always be my bro.”

“Ya, well your bro wants to kill that mofo,” Sal snarled, his true colors showing. No one else I had ever worked with could chameleon himself like Sal. He could go from one extreme to the next on a dime. One minute, he would be charming his way with the ladies, and the next he would be popping his jaw, preparing for war. Not only could he flip the switch, but he could assimilate into any crowd, anywhere.

The banter between the two continued on as I heard the familiar rumble of Sal’s truck pull up. “That’s my lady!” I said, shooting up and running around front just as she was getting my baby out of her car seat. “Hi, angel! Where’s mom?”

Amber sighed, handing Mae to me. “She insisted on staying at the house one more night.”

“Damn lady is as stubborn as they come,” I grumbled. “I told her the movers would be there tomorrow at seven in the morning.”

“She assures me she will be awake and ready to go,” Amber said, grabbing her bag and a couple pizza boxes. “But we finished packing her house. She is worried about everything though. Worried she will be an inconvenience here while her house is finished. Worried she won’t have enough room in the tiny house. Worried all this back and forth is bad for Mae. I am exhausted,” she said, giving me a kiss. “You are a sight for sore eyes, Mr. Archer.”

“You know I owe you for dealing with her,” I offered up, knowing full well how taxing my mother can be.

“You are going to owe me a vacation to Hawaii,” Amber boasted cheerfully.

“Yes, ma’am,” I teased, making notes for future reference. I really did owe her some time away after everything was square. I followed her through the house, watching as she shucked the bag and her shoes and headed out to the deck.

“Honey, I am home!” she yelled and tossed the keys at Raniero. He caught them without even a blink. She stole his beer and sat on his lap. And while it might seem weird—to us—this was normal.

“I need you to go check on her, she’s been there alone for several weeks,” Sal whispered with a serious look of concern on his face. “I haven’t heard from her, and typically we communicate on social media.”

“Why don’t you go?” Zoe asked.

“Because I am forbidden to see her,” Sal replied quickly. He blinked at me, knowing it wasn’t true. He had been sneaking over to Jack’s since Iris signed the contract in January, but we kept secrets tight.

“By who? Jack?” she asked, stunned by the notions of anyone telling Sal no.

“No, Serene. She wanted Iris to have the full experience and once I get involved, I break her immersion…at least that is her argument.”

Pulling up her long dirty blonde hair, Zoe secured it with a clip as she questioned, “And how many times have you seen her?”

“Way too many,” Amber answered, privy to Sal’s private life. Laughing, Zoe smiled. “Amber Rosen, nice to meet you finally.”

“Pleasure, you have a lovely home here,” Zoe’s sky blue eyes sparkled. Her flat nose and porcelain skin led my eyes to her mouth, a simply divine invitation. I envisioned her drooling as I pounded into her from behind, screaming and sweating and aching with orgasm after orgasm. My fiancé was sitting on Raniero’s lap while I took quite a fancy to the young submissive. I had a feeling she might be the one Raniero would kill me over.

Zoe was too pretty, too perfect. It was clear why he protected her and eagerly took on the role of her “bro”. And it was also quite apparent that he wasn’t the least bit happy about her contract with Delarte Cristos. I knew the man well enough. He was a little weird, but overall, he wasn’t a bad guy. Admittedly, he could be a bit extreme, and from where I sat I guess that makes him a lot a bit extreme because I wasn’t a cakewalk. I liked it rough and dirty. I guess you could say Delarte liked his kink—rough, dirty, and weird.

The events that proceeded to happen were like dominoes, one leading to the next, and I don’t think I could have stopped any of them if I tried. I questioned if maybe I could have done something, but at that point I really just wanted us all settled—Mae, Amber, and my mom. I thought by moving us all together, I could’ve eliminated the stress. I never imagined that by the end of the month, the fissures would turn into mammoth craters and one of us would end up dead.

* * *

AMBER

On Raniero’s lap, I felt a strange sense of change shifting in the wind. I knew D was checking out Zoe. I cannot say as though I blamed him, she was a hot little number. Unfortunately, her over-perfection was the downfall in my eyes. Sal’s hand drifted onto my knee, and I immediately wished it was on my ass, making me forget about the hell of the witch-in-law. She still doesn’t like me, and that left me feeling depleted and sad.

How can this wonderful man have such a tyrannical beast for a mother?

“Can you please just go check on her?” Sal begged Zoe.

“I’ll do it,” I whispered, taking his ball cap off and touching his curls. I have loved this guy for many years, and by god, heaven, or hell if I wouldn’t have done whatever he wanted. If going and checking on Iris was what he needed to have a sense of calm, then I would do it. Sal showed me the way to freedom, gave me money when I needed it, and answered my calls at all hours—it is the least I could do for him.

With a distant look, Sal asked, “Would you mind?”

“Nah, not at all,” I offered, “I’ll go check in on her.”

Zoe gave me a slight look of contempt and walked to check out the pool. Sal flexed his jaw and mumbled, “I don’t care if she doesn’t understand or not. I need to know Iris is okay.”

“I understand. You need the reassurance. Let me give you that,” I said, rubbing his back. I could feel the stress coming off of him. He rarely acted this way with women—almost nervous. Concealing my concern for him, I brushed it off, “I mean it wasn’t like I didn’t lip-lock with the girl less than a month ago. I will go check in on her tomorrow.”

No one needed to know my motivation was sitting underneath my ass.

After another round of beer and some pizza, Sal and our new friend Zoe left. I was picking up the kitchen and noticed D outside, gazing at the sky. I grabbed my glass of wine and headed out to him. He looked so strong that night. Like the gods dropped down and chiseled him in their honor. He gave me a side glance, and I grabbed his hand.

“I know you were thinking about fucking that girl,” I blurted out, staring up at the moon.

He turned to me with a stunned expression. “And you were rocking on Raniero’s comfort rod.”

Raising an eyebrow, I laughed, “Interesting way to put it.”

His philosophical stance continued with a more somber note. “Do you think we are ever going to be whole with just us?”

“Have we ever really been monogamous?” I questioned, taking a generous sip of my wine. “I mean maybe briefly when we started, but our kinks took hold as soon as we could trust one another.”

Furrowing his brow, he asked, “Is it just a kink, or are you unhappy?”

“Dale Lee Archer, I am more in love with you than I have ever been. I know you enjoy watching Master Raniero have a go at me. And I can’t say I didn’t enjoy you with Iris. The look of ecstasy on your face was so incredible. I cannot imagine not experiencing that moment again.”

Pulling my somewhat tipsy body into his arms, D sniffed my hair and mumbled, “You’re not jealous?”

“Should I be?” I asked with a kiss to his forearm wrapped around my chest. “I mean—I am the one wearing your ring.”

“I have never wanted anything more than I want to marry you, Amber, but I need to know you are okay with this. I have to know I am not sending us into a dark tunnel that we lose each other in,” Dale confided, laying his chin on my shoulder.

“The only way you would ever lose me was if I didn’t know. If you have some hot thing wrapped around your dick and I don’t know beforehand,” I paused, carefully considering my words. “Then yeah… We will have a problem. I would expect the same in return. If you take a case and I am here rocking the rafters with some punk, I figure we are done. But I would never do that,” I said, spinning in his arms. “And neither would you.”

“I know you’re exhausted from my mother, but I really need you tonight,” he requested, almost begging.

“Meet me in our room in ten minutes,” I said, sealing the deal with a kiss to his fuzzy lips. I loved his beard—soft, full, and strong enough for me to pull when we were fucking. I worried at first that I was genuinely hurting him, but he assured me that he enjoyed the tug of his ginger curls.

Rushing back into the house, I clicked off the lights and ran up the stairs. I tip-toed past Mae’s nursery, fearing any additional noise would awaken her and blow our planned escapade in-two. I stripped down the second I hit our room, tossing clothes in a line to the bathroom door. I showered my body quick, brushed through my hair, and knotted it up into a bun. He always liked to start a session with my hair up.

Opening the bathroom drawer, I picked up my thick, silver collar. The metal brushed cold against my skin as I locked it shut and tossed the key into the drawer. I grabbed the leash—a matching, shiny, elegant piece—and hooked it to the collar, draping the rings between my breasts. I lit a few candles and turned some music on—a mixed playlist with seductive, thumping rhythms—and I headed to his side of the bed where I lowered myself to my knees and awaited his arrival.

The bedroom offered such a luxurious and tranquil place. I found it difficult to get into the submissive headspace the first few rounds. It was opulent and pampering, neither of which D ever was during the hardcore sessions. He asked if I would prefer to rent a dungeon room at Juliet, but the logistics couldn’t accommodate our intense, frequent needs. We had Mae, and finding a sitter every night while her Daddy whipped the shit out of me just didn’t seem right or fair. So, we made due until the dungeon was completed.

The door cracked open, and I tilted my head as I whispered, “Good evening, Master.”

* * *

DALE

I knew the routine like the back of my hand. We had been having sessions since we first moved in. She’d be on her knees, waiting for me like a good little girl. The anticipation was enough to give me a fucking hard on like a damned teenage boy. It’s always the same for me and sub females. Add thoughts of Raniero into it, and I’d be staining my jeans before I even crack the door.

But I don’t want to think about that.

My newly discovered man crush stays in my head. Anything else and I risked losing Amber. How did I know? Because I knew her. I know she would agree to many things. Bringing Raniero into our bedroom was one thing; feeling Raniero in my heart was quite another. So, I kept my mouth shut and kept my distance. Amber had an idea. Hell, even Sal might have known. But we never put it out there. We ignored its existence entirely. It was just easier that way.

Pulling off my shirt on the way up the stairs, I got a text from the devil himself. He’s got a special text sound and while I don’t want to look, I have to. He was my partner after all. The message unexpectedly left me unsettled.

“We got a lead on Pock. I am getting a flight to Omaha.”

Without thinking, I typed back quick, “Nebraska?”

“Trafficking hub. They think he wasn’t really taken. He paid off Scuz and got away. They think he is running stock on a new circuit. I am going to check it out.”

I stopped midway up the staircase and felt my chest tighten. “Alone?”

“Hoss, I have been doing this for almost five years. See ya in a few.”

His words—see ya in a few—latched into my veins as I closed my eyes tight. I hated the idea of him going alone. I leaned against the wall and fretted with the possibilities. In five years, I’d seen him shot more than once. I knew what he was saying. But when you’ve seen your partner go down, it haunted every thought when they say—see ya in a few.

My first notion was to drop everything and go running after him. I understood he was his own man at twenty-four. A hundred or more perps taken down and countless victims saved. He was risky, and it showed. His resume read like a god damned super hero. Or a psychotic kid with a death wish. Despite my initial need to run be by his side, I breathed through it, knowing he was just going to do a roundup of interviews. Pock wasn’t there. No way. Too fucking easy.

Pock was a hands-on motherfucker, down in the trenches, and picking out his pieces of meat firsthand. He liked to touch and taste his merch before he sold it. He was a real scumbag—Amber’s daddy. And she didn’t even know the half of it.

In my hand, the phone lit up with another even more ominous text. “Keep an eye on Jaid.”

Fuck me.

God damned Agent Pris Grace served undercover as Jaidlyn Lovell Chambers, a fresh submissive enrolled in Juliet, trying to smoke out the big guns. While Sal running off to Omaha seemed dangerous, it was a walk in the park compared to what Pris was doing. She was going after the money behind the manipulation, and anytime you hit people in the pocket you risked a bullet in the brain.

I hated the idea of putting her in. Jack—arrogant son-of-a-bitch that he is—thought the scheme was brilliant, using Jaid and Sal to uncover the dough. Someone funded the stock drives in the Southwest, and these two yahoos were determined to earn a stripe. I liked Jack, don’t get me wrong, but he used the young ones—Sal, Pris, hell even Kaci—more than he should.

And following like a good, eager puppy, Madeline Grace — who just so happened to be Pris’ older sister. The whole thing reeked of insanity, and I knew it was going to blow up in our faces at some point. The only answer I needed was whose mug I would be scraping up off the cement.

My early military training tended me to being more calculating than the reckless guns ablazin routine. I upheld stringent rules of how cases should go down, and they all started with research before the rumble. I liked a game plan, a strategic set of if this, then that’s. These new kids didn’t play that way. They were fast, on their feet, and could multitask like no one’s business. I had seen Sal chatting up some fat madam on one end while planning the night with Jaid, texting Iris, and looking at snaps of Madi’s latest heist from overseas. Add in their photographic memories and quick steps, and it was utter madness at the command center.

I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to watch over her—anyone but Jaid-fucking-Chambers. If Zoe could make my johnson flench, damn hot ass Jaid could make it wink. She distracted me from the beginning. I hated to admit that, but I had been watching over her training for years. And that girl was nothing but trouble with a capital T.

Trouble.

When Sal informed me he had been messing with her since he met her at Kaci’s, I had to spend the night in a secluded room to calm everything down. The thought of Raniero + Jaid together sent shockwaves through my skin. He was hot. She was hot. By the end of that night, my fucking hand was hot.

Blinking at our bedroom door, I thought of Amber, waiting for me on her knees. I loved that girl more than life itself, but loving her didn’t equate to my being unaware of others. If anything, her kinks pushed me to doing things I never would have. She enhanced my Dominance, made me better. By design, in a perfectly balanced D/s relationship—that was how it should be. The problem resided in crossing a line, and the truly difficult part was the line was never, ever straight.

* * *

AMBER

“Good Evening, Master,” I said, listening to his footsteps coming closer to me.

His moves held a methodical pace as he tucked his finger under the crook of my arm and instructed, “Up, slut. It’s time.”

Pushing my shoulder down to the bed, he barreled his open palm against my ass. I gasped at the intense strike as my body catapulted forward. Immediately, I could tell it was going to be a rough session. He didn’t always start off rough, but the nights he had would render me bruised and breathless.

In some ways, I loved the nights like this, when he would just let go and take me. Sparking my mind, he enlivened my senses as he had his way with me. It was painful and honest and his truest self—his finest times of Dominance—little talking, no mind games, just straight to the core of us.

His hand fired against my ass again even harder than the first. Surprisingly, he walked away and sat in an overstuffed alabaster lounge chair. I liked to work in that chair, and D loved to spank me there.

His next words threw me off and sent a shiver of nervousness through me. “Crawl over here and stretch out on Daddy’s lap.”

“Yes, Master.”

Lowering to my knees, I noticed he unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock. Gripping it tight, he stroked up the length of it, rubbed his palm over the head, and worked his way back down. The plush and well-padded carpet softened against my knees as I couldn’t take my eyes away from him.

He never did this.

His breathing heavy, he grumbled, “Bend over the arm of the chair and suck me, bitch.”

Doing as he requested, I felt his fingers spread my lips and pinch my clit as I swallowed his cock down. His career in the porn industry was well-deserved as he was well endowed, thick, and veiny. At six four, he was a big man, and the trunk in his pants did not disappoint. I had given thousands of blow jobs and rarely had trouble deep throating. Dale’s rod posed difficult with not only length, but girth.

Taking a fistful of my hair with his left hand, he pushed my head down, making my eyes water and mouth gag until I relaxed enough to open for him. With his trunk in my mouth, I slobbered everywhere, coating my face and his balls in my drool.

Shoving three fingers deep into my hole, he groaned as we found our rhythm. He moved in and out as I bobbed up and down. Swiftly, he moved from my pussy to my ass, pushing one finger inside as his thumb jetted up into my swollen folds. The tears swept over my cheeks as he made haste with my body and forced my first orgasm from me. During the ripple, I hadn’t realized he removed his hand until it smacked against my ass cheek.

He pushed my head down even further. “Squeeze my balls, tight. Use your fucking nails.”

Glancing at my hand, I brought it into the playing field. I first noticed the shaking and trembling then before I clutched his jewels. Unable to disobey, I did as he requested, clawing at his sack and digging my nails in. Thank heavens I had just gotten rid of my stiletto shaped nails two days prior or I would have drawn blood.

“More, bitch. More. Hurt me like you mean it.”

The session had taken an unexpected turn, going down an unknown road. He never requested I hurt him. It felt off, and I feared backlash. I couldn’t do anything more than I already was. Sure, I could play the role of Lady Mae for many people—but not my teachers, not my Masters.

“Get over here, whore.”

His hand gripped my arm tight as I noticed the bottle of lube on the table. He coated his dick quick and pulled me onto the edge of his knees. “Fucking dance on me. Give me a lap dance like I am one of the johns in the bar.”

With my tears on free flow, I wanted to call my safe, but I couldn’t disappoint him. For whatever his reasons, he wanted me to serve him in this capacity and while I didn’t understand why, I provided his wish. I needed to be his sanctuary. I needed to be his holy escape. This man. This bastard asshole. I bit my tongue, refusing to spar with him despite how he continued to poke and prod.

“Give me your little love cup, hussy. Let me fill it up.”

I moved just so, rolling my ass and hips and taunting and teasing his dick. I had no clue where we were headed, all I knew was I trusted him to get us to the end—safely. I understood early on that part of being a submissive was in the submitting and trusting the D with his mysterious motivations and naughty navigations. My sole job was to function in meeting his needs. I was the vessel; he was the captain.

His hands dropped to my hips, moving me closer to his dick. I slid around him, careful to not allow his entry. He didn’t want to fuck me yet. Desiring the extended foreplay, he let the thump of the beat guide our movements. Taking his dick in his hand, he rubbed it over my ass cheek. My want blossomed open, slicking the inside of my thighs and bringing my nipples up to stiff peaks.

With a determined snarl, he growled, “You like this, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sir,” I whispered.

“I want you to think about someone else while I fuck you,” he groaned, grinding my flesh against his trunk. “I want you to imagine your fantasy.”

Biting my lip, I contemplated my answer before muttering, “What if you are my fantasy?”

He snorted, “Are we alone?”

I didn’t have to answer, he already knew as I sassed, “What do you think?”

I detected the smirk on his face as he said, “I think you are a very kinky little bitch who needs to be punished.”

I followed along and played his game. “Yes, punish me, Daddy. Punish me hard.”

With one rapid pull, he rammed his cock up into my ass as I let out a whimper. I hadn’t expected his taking of my ass. He had only done it one time before. The night before he asked me to marry him. As I remembered this, I accepted that a change was imminent.

He bucked into me hard as his fingers twisted and pulled at my nipples, sending a fiery surge through to my core. He knew my secrets, he used them to get to me. “Do what I said, Amber. Think about your fantasy and ride that fucking monster.”

My mind rushed with the fear of letting go as he requested. Finding the fantasy would be so easy, but showing him that truth…

Master D. And me. And Master Raniero.

Moving faster, I let my mind take over my body as I followed the fantasy, giving D his wish. My ass rocked on his rod, tightening more and more until I felt I might rip his trunk up by the root. His hands dropped from my nipples and clenched around my hips hard. I would have bruises by morning. Holding my body onto the rail with his forearms, he refused to let me fall as the fingers of both hands strummed at my ripened clit and glory hole.

I wanted them both to Dominate my body and mind. One in my mouth, one in my puss. Both wielding whips, lashing my back and ass with alternating strokes. One in my puss, one in my ass. Four hands slapping, pinching, and torturing me. Both in my puss, fucking me into the oblivion.

With thoughts of being sandwiched between the Italian and Ginger stallions, my body succumbed to D, coming hard on his dick and hands. I screamed loud—too loud. Loud enough to have woken the baby. But he didn’t stop forcing his dick further into my cinching ass. He wrapped his arms around my body and hoisted us both up, careful to not slip from my ass.

“Down,” he commanded as we fell in unison to the bed. His hand welted my ass cheek as he unapologetically fucked me doggie style in the ass.

And then I dared to ask the question, plaguing my thoughts. “What are you fantasizing about?”

I didn’t need to ask. I already knew. I flicked my marble, nailing him right between the eyes, and damn if it didn’t piss him off beyond recognition. Before I could mutter another word, his hand covered my mouth as he continued to hump into me with the intensity of a savage. “Not another word, cunt.”

* * *

DALE

Words couldn’t begin to describe how mortifyingly embarrassed and heinously angry I was. I wanted to hurt her. I wanted her to scream bloody murder and cry endless tears and beg me for forgiveness. But still, I didn’t stop fucking her tight little hole as my hand trapped her mouth from any further sound.

“You think you fucking know,” I roared, smacking her already bluing skin. “You don’t know shit.”

Lost in the feel of her ass, I wanted more. I needed to come—Hard. I dropped my hand from her lips but not before she bit me good enough to draw up some blood. In removing my hand, I mistakenly believed she would hush and keep her thoughts to herself.

“I know you are thinking about him,” she whispered, beneath a veil of tears. She didn’t stop there, pushing forward with a declaration of unedited truth. “But this isn’t going to get you what you want, D.”

Pulling out, I let her go and watched her crawl away as I stayed on my knees on the bed. She ran to the bathroom, upset beyond comfort. There was no aftercare for the Dom-drop. I was the asshole here. I dropped the ball. I pushed too fast. I pushed too far.

Hearing the toilet flush and the water turn on, I expected her to be hidden away in the safety of the bathroom for hours. I sighed heavily and shook my head, unable to comprehend the magnitude of the damage I had caused. I swallowed my pride long enough to hear the voice inside of me that said—she is going to dump your ass, fucker.

The emotions couldn’t be held back as salty tears trickled over my cheeks. The fear of pushing too far always existed in D/s relationships and was the primary reason I avoided them until Amber showed up. She proved unavoidable.

“You better get on all fours, you fucking bastard,” she warned from the bathroom door. Wearing thigh high black boots, black leather bodice and tight black shorts, she paraded the strap-on in front of my face. “Shut your damn eyes, you motherfucker.”

Stunned and shocked, I did as she asked. I don’t know why I was acting this way. I had solely played the top-dog role for years. Something about Lady Mae’s presence dropped me to my knees. This woman, who had given up and trusted me so much, commanded a control over my mind and body that I didn’t know even existed. I was a fucking alpha dog for chrissakes. What the fuck was I doing?

And yet, it felt so right.

“Let me explain something to you, M—ister Archer, you do not have the same sexual fluidity as the one you covet,” she assessed, leaning low and whispering in my ear. I didn’t think my johnson could get any harder, but fuck me if it didn’t turn to cement when she demanded we discuss the massive Italian elephant in-between us. “You have been smacking your meat to thoughts of that man for weeks. You think I can’t hear you; you think I don’t know. But that is where you are wrong. I do know. I see the way you look at him. I notice how you light up when he walks in the room. You’ve got a fucking craving for a dirty player, and I am telling you right now, you cannot handle him.”

Blood pumped rapid through my veins as I found myself admitting, “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

Her long whip grazed against my hide as I feared what speaking the truth would bring. I didn’t want to be her bottom bitch boy. But she was right—oh so right. I could not get Sal Raniero out of my fucking mind. I knew if I kept on, I would end up destroying us. I was fucking jealous of her—my girl, my fiancé—and the relationship she had with him. And the whole thing was my fucking fault to begin with. Mine. I owned that one. No one was to blame but me.

“You want me to what?” Sal asked, swigging on his beer and smoking a cigarette. A couple doors down from Gina’s in New Orleans, the bar was decorated up for Mardi Gras. Kaci had just passed, and Sal returned from several week’s worth of sabbatical with Hennessey Bindel and Karissa Banks. He looked better than ever.

“I want you to keep Amber trained. Keep her in line. Watch over her,” I said casually. “And I am going to pay you a small fortune to do it.”

Running his hand through his raven curls, Sal fired off a look of disbelief at me. “You realize I am going to fuck her, right?”

I shot him a gaze and smirk that said I knew. “I’d kill any other brother who laid a hand on my girl. But yeah, I know what you are going to do. And I need you to do it often. I need you to keep her safe for me until I am ready.”

And damn if he didn’t do exactly as I asked.

I never knew the damage I would cause to myself. I never understood that not only would I still be madly in love with the girl I pushed away, but hearing about their escapades from my partner caused such a deep divot in my soul, even I didn’t want to accept it.

My memories rushed back to our first night here with Iris and Sal. He looked so broken, so torn up beyond repair. In that moment, I understood the effect that girl—Iris—had on him. I only wanted to help him, or maybe… Maybe I was fishing for more, and his need for pain was just a good excuse to get closer to him.

“You need a good hit of a drug no one has in stock… Who is better, Jack or Serene?”

“I am hoping you,” Sal muttered, beautifully despondent as his eyes flared with a blinding fury.

“He ached, and I had to help him,” I said loud and clear.

“You bottomed out, and Sal fucking played you,” Amber declared, her voice booming with authority. “You are weak for him.”

Feeling the tears stinging my cheeks, I couldn’t deny my feelings any longer. I wanted to make Amber cry, but I wanted to bend for Sal. I was a fucked-up mess. And I fucking never saw it coming. Blinking up at Amber, I pleaded, “I am a fucking guy, babe… I can’t…”

“No shit, D. I know what you are. Me, better than anyone else, knows the kind of man Dale Archer is. You are six-four, two-hundred-twenty pounds of pure male, and that little devil has knocked you off your game. Have you seen how small he is compared to you? Have you seen how stealthy and quick and roguish he is?” Her breath brushed against my lip. “Sal played you to see if he could because that is what he is trained to do.”

“Do you not think I fucking know that?” I said, storming up and resting back on my heels. “Do you not think I know that little shit marked me as his target and took me out with one fell swoop? Because I do. But that isn’t on him. It’s on me. I am the one with the issue. Not him.”

“You don’t have a fucking issue, D,” she coddled, rubbing her hand on my cheek. “But if you don’t get back down, I swear I will walk out of this house and you will never see me again. You don’t want to talk about it, and I get that. You aren’t comfortable discussing the deviation of your normal hostile sexual takeover stance, but we are getting it out in the open now because I am tired of watching you destroy yourself. You have been beating yourself up since that night in the garage.”

My embarrassment flushed my cheeks a bright crimson red as I fell back to my hands. I glanced up at the woman I loved and whispered, “How did you know, Amber?”

“I know because I know you,” she informed, petting my red tangles like an animal. “And Raniero knows because your soft spot for him is downright squishy now.”

“I never meant to hurt anyone,” I implored, crumbling into a mess in front of her.

“You haven’t hurt anyone but yourself…yet.”

* * *

AMBER

Being fluent and experienced in the use of Raniero body language, I knew the night in the garage that my future husband and father of my children developed a pesky crush on his partner. Over the past few weeks, I secretly spied on him, using my own street smart stealth maneuvers. It wasn’t hard to tell.

He would go from a good session with me and two hours later, I’d spot him palming his dick in the shower, in the bed, in the living room. One night, I quietly watched as he flipped through pictures on the computer and whacked his dick off to a man I’d slept with more than I care to mention.

The triangle was complicated and twisted.

And expected.

At least I anticipated the outcome, and I imagine even Sal had some notions. He is too aware to not notice. Now that we crossed the bridge into truth, the only thing that remained was to figure out how we—the three of us—would handle it. I had no problems with the obvious—let Dale kneel for Sal and get it out of his system. But I knew the kind of web Sal liked to weave, giving me some insight I might have not otherwise had. And D was nowhere near ready for that.

“I think you should tell him,” I whispered, pacing around and lubing up my dildo. “I think you should let him know exactly how you feel before one of you ends up hurt.”

He sighed, bowing his head low and clasping his hands together. He didn’t want to deal with this, but I was forcing this issue. If I didn’t push Dale, his demons would end up eating him alive. I had seen the look of guilt in his eyes for days, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I would have rather had it out in the open than tucked away like a secret addiction, gnawing his soul to bits.

I needed D whole.

Sal needed his Hoss whole.

I had fucked hundreds of girls with a strap-on before, but never a man. “Come down off the bed, keep your eyes closed, and stay bent.”

Sliding the rubber over his ass, I watched his whole body tense up. I carefully inserted just the tip and waited for a moment. I gripped his hips and behind me, I felt the warm moves of the catalyst in our quandary. He moved my body just so, showing me the rhythm until I could play it solo. Dale started breathing heavy, but nothing could have prepared either of us for the performance which we were about to be granted.

Walking around the bed, Sal stripped off his white t-shirt and tossed it on the ground. He undid the button on his jeans, showing off the suggestion of what lay beneath the black denim. “This may be the strangest intervention ever…”

Dale’s head shot up as he opened his eyes to Sal moving across the bed. “Raniero, what the fuck are you doing here?”

Sal smirked brazen and bold. “Did you really think I was going to Omaha at one in the morning, Hoss?”

“Amber…” Dale muttered with a panicked tone.

“Trust us, just go with it,” Sal encouraged as he laid on his side and propped his hand under his head. He looked dreamily good, the fantasy licking at reality. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know what I want. That’s the problem.”

“You know you want Amber,” Sal informed with a warm persuasion.

Moving slow into Dale, I was envious of how seductively beautiful Sal could be. I understood D’s crush even better than him because I too had been afflicted with the curse of the Master long ago. He was magically enthralling, capturing every ounce of energy in the room and tossing it back out into the world with dizzying delight. He had a rare gift and knew how to use it to his advantage.

“I fucking hate you both sometimes,” Dale grumbled anxious from being intercepted by our play. I had no idea our session would end up so rough, and I texted Sal with an urgent message the second I walked into the bathroom.

I need him—now.

And as always, he came to save me and our relationship from utter damnation.

Unzipping his jeans, Sal bit his wine-stained pout. “Hate lives next to love.”

“How can you do this, man?” Dale asked, his jaw popping and his body hard as steel. He was immovable and could easily have taken us both out if he wanted. “I mean seriously, how can you be so fucking free?”

“It’s easy for me,” Sal assured with a confidence as he pulled out his flaccid cock and stroked it slow. “Not so much for everyone else, I know that. I get that. You have a certain set of built in standards you feel the need to conform to. I don’t have that. There are no limits, no boundaries.”

“I’ve heard you say a million times though—no men.”

Grinning sexy as fuck, Sal cackled mischievously as I watched his erection grow from behind Dale. With his dick getting harder with every passing stroke, I imagined how high D could be if he would just let go. If he would release his death grip just a little so Sal could weasel his way inside his mind. Not only would he benefit, but I would as well.

“It’s a blurry edge for me,” Sal said, easing his jeans down. “Lots of gray. Depends on the encounter really. Depends on the person. There are a lot of women I won’t mess with either. It’s a hell of a lot easier for me to say no men when I am going out on a call than to have to explain the exceptions to the rule.”

“More philosophical sex lessons with Nero,” Dale bantered, attempting to brush off the intensity of the moment. “You don’t have a good history with menage.”

“Nah, but what feels good…feels good,” Sal said, easy in his own arrogance. “So, what do you want to do me, Hoss?”

“I don’t know, man,” Dale fretted, his blue eyes conflicted like a ship lost on the sea. “If I understood what was going on, this would be easy.”

Spreading out flat on the bed and acting like he owned the joint, Sal parked one gloriously muscled arm under his head. “Do you want me to spank you?”

“No, I don’t want you to spank me,” Dale replied with an outlandish tone, the suggestion seemed almost unthinkable. When I least expected it, he confessed the unimaginable, “But you can spank my monkey, anytime.”

I gasped slightly at his sudden, brief moment of honesty.

“You want me to call you a dirty slut while I do it?” Sal teased, lightening up the perilous adventure.

“I swear to fuck I am going to beat your beautiful ass, Raniero.”

Dale laughed, and Sal smiled. I felt like a third-wheel buried in his ass. “Maybe I should go…” I mumbled from beneath a curtain of blonde hair.

“Maybe you should come ride my dick,” Sal eagerly suggested. “Get that fucking dick out of his ass and come get on mine.”

Immediately, I fell back into old habits, listening to Master Raniero. I dropped the shorts, and the dildo hit the ground with a thud. Taking Sal’s hand, I eased onto his shaft. His cock was so different from D’s—the perfect pink-tipped thing to send a shiver through my spine. He wasn’t as long as my fiancé’s trunk, but Sal possessed a generous width and ability to rocket my being to the moon. He was all-encompassing and a helluva ride, going from deviant kinks to making love within a blink.

The expression on Dale’s face changed from broken to pissed off as he watched me rock upon Sal. “You’ve got some nerve, you little punk!”

“Get over here, you big oaf,” Sal urged, offering Dale his hand. “Don’t you dare go all pansy on me now.”

He plopped flat on the bed next to us, despondent and aloof until he gave me a side-glance. Sal grabbed onto my hips, refusing to let me go.

“God, I love watching you fuck my girl, Sal,” D mumbled as he palmed his dick. Rolling onto his side, he lifted up and kissed my nipples and then he settled down next to Sal. “She is so damned gorgeous. And you are so beautiful it should be a sin,” Dale whispered, fussing with Sal’s curls. “I realize what a lucky bastard I am when she is on you.”

Sal turned ever so slight, and Dale kissed him. A genuine tongue-lashing of lust and longing, desperation and desire. “Go,” Sal said, holding my hands and encouraging me to go to him. Settling down on Dale, I stared as the two men I loved more than life itself made out in front of me. My puss soaked and my mind soared as Sal sat up to kiss me, loving and passionate.

I realized during that kiss that Sal was more than just my Master and Dale’s partner, he was the training wheels for our relationship. With his help, we would learn to ride without his assistance. While the day would come when we would no longer need or want him with us, right now, he bridged the distance between what we could do and what we could not say. It would have been foolish to believe that we could come off our five-year affair and not still crave one another—but neither one of us expected D to need Sal the way he did.

With his arm around me and my hands on his chest, I glanced down only to see D with his lips dangerously close to Sal’s dick. I gasped, unable to breathe. My gargantuan alpha male was about to be blessed with the sweet goodness as Sal touched himself in earnest.

“You want this D, Hoss?”

“Yeah…I do, Nero.”

“Go slow, don’t bite,” Sal warned, rubbing his piercing on D’s fuzzy lips.

Curious, I whispered, “How different is it?”

“It can be good—really good,” Sal whispered as I stared in awe. “Not just the whole taboo of it, but you don’t have a beard. So, the whole thing has a different feel.”

Dale wrapped his hand around the base of Sal’s cock and worked his mouth up and down, slicking it up with his desire. It was a gorgeous hot mess of want and need.

“That’s fucking insane… Jesus, I could come just watching you two.”

“I think that feeling goes all three ways. I love how you two are with one another,” Sal moaned, bucking his hips to Dale’s mouth as my body ached for release, striding atop his mammoth erection. “You gonna swallow my come, D?”

“If you have to ask,” Dale rebuked, continuing to pump Sal with his hand. “You don’t know me. I’d bathe in that shit if you’d let me.”

“I told you he had it bad for you,” I whispered to Sal, grabbing his cheeks and kissing his lips ever so slowly. Sal and I found our rhythm—my undulations and his thrusting—and together we catapulted Dale into the stratosphere. Somewhere in the coalescence of our newfound holy trinity, there was a peaceful moment of absolution, promise, and hope.

And I knew… it wouldn’t last.