THE PLAYERS: a MFM Menage Romance (Bad Romance Book 4)

by Shanna Bell

  She woke up, bathed in a cold sweat.

  I’m safe.

  She repeated that a dozen times until it changed into all but a chant. She took in her new room, reminding herself she didn’t live under Franco’s roof anymore. So far, Vince had kept his promise—he hadn’t touched her with a single finger, not counting the spanking. Now Sy was a whole different story.

  She found him on the couch in the rec room. It seemed he was a bit of an insomniac like her. He had on sweatpants and a black tee that showed his bandage from where she’d patched him up. His bulging biceps almost diverted her from the fact he’d gotten hurt while protecting her.

  “Couldn’t sleep either?” she asked as she walked up to him.

  “I’m more of a night owl.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her on top of him.

  Before she knew it, she was plastered all over his chest, watching another episode of Our Earth. It still baffled her how easy it was to be around him. There was no fear, no stress.

  Over the past couple of days, Carmen and the guys had fallen into a certain daily rhythm. To her, this was the “post-spanking” period; one of the most confusing experiences in her life. Part of her had been all too familiar with the pain part. Franco had loved using her as a punching bag every now and then. But with the guys, it had been different. Yes, every hit by Vince had hurt, but being enclosed by them had also made her feel oddly safe and protected.

  Half an hour into the episode with the migrating flamingos, her stomach growled. Sy’s fingers were lazily drawing circles on her back. Her head was tucked under his chin and as she drew in his scent, she’d never felt so relaxed.

  “How is your arm?” A grunt followed. He sure liked to make that sound. “Do you need me to take another look at it?”

  “No, but there’s another part that would love your attention.”

  Since that part was poking at her stomach, she didn’t need to ask. But that was Sy, always saying what was on his mind. Saying it and making her want it at the same time. She could feel her body heat up. She slowly pushed away from him and got off the couch.

  “Since we’re both awake anyway, how about I meet you in the gym in ten?” Sy had promised to teach her self-defense.

  “Sure, doll. Just don’t forget to put on something tight.”

  She rolled her eyes at him, but couldn’t help answering his grin. It was all too easy to be around him. The man was a huge flirt, but always said what he felt, and honestly, she liked that about him.

  As she walked back into her room, she tried to come to grips with how her life changed over the course of a couple of weeks.

  With the war still going on, and retaliation from both sides, Carmen was holed up in the apartment. Apparently, Keegan had gone underground, and no one knew where Morelli had disappeared to.

  The situation with Vince was as tense as always. Despite her barely talking to him, he sure spoke with his eyes. He was a more than willing voyeur when Sy had his hands on her. It shamed her to admit she had grown used to seeing Vince watch Sy have his way with her.

  She wondered if the two of them were in cahoots somehow. Sy hadn’t made love to her yet. It was as if he was punishing both her and Vince by bringing her to the brink of an orgasm and then simply stopping. The slow burn was killing her, but she was too much of a coward to simply ask him to get on with it. Like her, Vince didn’t ask for what he obviously desired either.

  Every night, he would be leaning against the doorframe as she cried out. Or sometimes, he’d just sit on the sofa in the corner, his eyes burning with desire. Not once though did he take a step toward her. And damn, if that didn’t hurt her pride. Which didn’t make any sense. He was even interfering with her dreams. Each and every one of them ended with her in between the two men. She also blamed Sy for her condition of permanent arousal. How many times more would he make her come without finally fucking her?

  Something had to give.

  Luckily for her, as of today, she had another way to burn off energy.

  She put on a tank top and black tights. The day after she’d moved in, she’d discovered her walk-in closet was stuffed to the brim with clothes in her size. Vince obviously hadn’t stopped with that one satin dress. She doubted Sy gave a crap about what she dressed in. If it were up to him, he’d rather see her naked.

  After putting on her sneakers, she walked into the gym, where Sy was already waiting for her. In the middle was a big mat and judging by his grin, he couldn’t wait to get her on it.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she warned.

  “About what?”

  His innocent tone didn’t fool her one bit. “You are here to teach me self-defense. Not how to roll in the gym and do other stuff.”

  “Define other stuff.”

  Her throat went dry as he flexed his bulging biceps. He knew exactly what he was doing to her. She wasn’t ashamed to admit that his deliciously ripped body turned her on. Even made her mouth water.

  Not ashamed to admit it? Really?

  Fine, I’ll never admit it out loud.

  Right… like he can’t tell by your drool.

  Her hand almost went up to the corner of her mouth. Dammit, she had to stop lusting over the man. It messed with her head.

  “I’ll teach you to fight, but strength isn’t just about knowing how to beat someone up. It’s about controlling yourself.” He gave her a knowing look. “About controlling your fear.”

  Was he serious? “Are we going to do this or is this going to turn into a session?” She’d expected that from Vince, but not from Sy. He was supposed to be the careless, fun one, who only lived for today.

  “The little doll has claws,” he drawled.

  He gestured her to come over to him. The second she did, he made a move, and she landed right on her butt.

  “Mistake number one,” he explained as she got back on her feet. “You came when I asked. Never let your opponent determine how something’s gonna play out.”

  They sized each other up. He gestured once more, but this time, she wasn’t so stupid to fall for it. They circled each other, each looking for an opening. Her heart beat in her throat at the constant tension holding her body captive, not knowing where the attack would come from.

  “It’s not about who is the strongest or fittest. There are no rules in a one-on-one brawl. You just gotta be smart and tactical,” he explained. “You’re a tiny woman, so when you’re up against someone my size, you gotta hit where it hurts.” He gestured to his knee. “One well-placed kick and you can break a kneecap.”

  As Sy talked, his face turned into that of Franco’s. His light hair was suddenly a dark black. His body stockier, a few feet shorter. Right up until the moment he had completely transformed into her ex-husband.

  She felt sick as fear slowly took control over her body.

  What if Sy was never real? What if Franco was still alive?

  Little electric shocks shot through her veins, making her skin sizzle. Any second, a hit would follow, and no one would be there to help her. No one would be there to get her out of the closet he’d stuffed her in.

  “Carmen.”

  The world slowly turned darker and darker. The only glimpse of light filtered through the tiny crack in the closet door, taunting her with what was outside. A world filled with joy and laughter, if only she could reach out and touch it. If only she wasn’t caught in this nightmare. If only she could move her cold, stiff fingers.

  “Carmen, look at me.”

  Why did he do this to her? Why her? What did he get out of it? What had she done wrong?

  “Carmen!”

  When the clouds before her eyes faded, she sat cradled on Sy’s lap. Her hand flew to his cheek.

  “You’re real…”

  He looked lost for words, but then nodded. “I’m damn real. Gonna tell me what just happened there?”

  “No.”

  “Excuse me? You want another spanking?”

  She relaxed into his arms. He was so big, she felt like
she disappeared in them. It was as if the world couldn’t see, or touch her from this position.

  “You’re not going to lay a finger on me, big guy.”

  “And how would you know that?”

  “Because you don’t have it in you to hurt me. Not really.” She had his number. Judging by his scowl, he didn’t like that one bit, but she did. Sy wasn’t capable of hurting a woman.

  Um… isn’t this the same man who threatened to shoot his brother’s ex-girlfriend?

  Apples and pears.

  Not really.

  Odd and twisted as it may seem, a man like Sy wouldn’t consider putting a bullet in someone as an act of violence. No, she had seen true violence and cruelty. No matter what he said, he didn’t have a cruel bone in his body when it came to women.

  Her eye fell onto one of the little gray dots on his chest. She kissed it. A sharp breath of air followed from Sy.

  “It was him, wasn’t it?” he guessed.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He let it go, which she was grateful for. If anyone would understand, it would be him. They lay there for a while, and time lost all meaning. They were just two broken pieces holding on to each other, hoping to mend each other in this crazy little thing called life.

  “Get up.”

  Her head turned toward Vince’s voice. He was standing in the doorway, taking them in. A wordless conversation was held between the men.

  Carmen slowly rose to her feet and Sy followed her.

  Vince took off his dress jacket and draped it over a bench. His tie followed.

  “Let’s do this again,” he said.

  “Actually, I’ve had enough for today.”

  There was an odd look in his eyes, like something ready to explode and she wasn’t ready yet to have a fallout with him. Not while she was still nauseous from Franco’s phantom breath on her skin.

  “Don’t care. You think your enemy will? Next time, when someone wants to take you down, will they do it on your schedule?”

  “I know what you’re trying to do.” She wasn’t going to get suckered into a fight with him.

  “Really? And what do you think that is?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Piss me off so I will take you up on your challenge. I’m not falling for it.”

  He slowly walked up to her. Once again, she noticed how different he was from Sy, but not any less lethal. While Sy was all muscle, Vince was more lean. He had a tendency for tailored Italian suits that gave him a sharp look but to her, couldn’t hide the predator underneath.

  She sucked in a breath when he towered over her. A muscle was ticking in his left jaw. She got mesmerized by his pull.

  You hate him.

  Remember, you hate him!

  Sure…

  How was it possible to want two men at the same time? How could her body have been dormant for a man’s touch, until these two?

  He put his fingers on her chest and gave a push. Her body was propelled backward a few feet.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Dead serious, doll,” Sy answered for Vince. “You better think of our session if you want to save your hide.”

  She gawked at him. “Our session? We barely trained for an hour!” Did he really think he was such a good teacher that he’d suddenly turned her into Bruce Lee?

  Sy had the audacity to sit on a bench and start lifting weights. It was as if he turned into a neon sign that stated, “Deal with your own shit.”

  And that she had to deal with it was a given. Vince kept coming at her. She ducked away, walked circles around him, but knew it would only be a matter of time before he would engage.

  “When will you stop running away, cara?”

  They both knew he meant so much more with that than running away from him in the dojo.

  “Don’t you think it’s time to hold your ground?” he further taunted. “Or do you want to spend your life being a scared little girl?”

  Rage clouded her vision, nearly turning the room into black once again. With a battle cry she hadn’t known she possessed, she stormed toward Vince. She hit and kicked wherever she could. Maybe he let her, or maybe she’d truly learned something from that one session with Vince, because a dozen kicks in and she was still standing.

  Right up until the moment she wasn’t and landed face down on the mat. She spun around and jumped back on her feet, afraid he would pounce on her. Vince still stood over her though, in his perfectly tailored slacks and white shirt.

  “See what just happened there?” he said calmly. “You lost control. Physical strength alone isn’t being strong. If that were all it took, bodybuilders would be ruling the world. You need to focus. But most of all, you need to face your fear. Are you ready to face your fear, Carmen?”

  Was she?

  “And how do you expect me to do exactly that?”

  “It’s been a week. You haven’t left the apartment yet. Why?”

  “You know why.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Because it’s dangerous outside, that’s why.”

  “Why, Carmen?” He walked up to her, asking the same question over and over again.

  Unwillingly, her eyes went toward the front door. Her mind went to the elevator in the hall. And what hid behind it. On the floor below.

  His hand grabbed her chin. “Why, Carmen?”

  He wanted the truth? She’d give it to him. “Because I hate your club. Because just thinking of passing it on my way down makes me sick.”

  A thud on the floor turned her back to Sy. He had dropped his weights and cursed, a combination of surprise and anger on his face. She looked down, feeling oddly guilty, as if she’d disappointed him somehow.

  Vince didn’t look so much surprised as relieved. The bastard had known all along. Why that still surprised her was beyond her. Even as kids, he’d always been able to read her. Sadly, she never mastered that skill when it came to him.

  Feeling deflated, she pushed at his chest, but he didn’t budge. “Are you happy now?”

  “This isn’t about my happiness. I want you to face your demons instead of pretending they don’t exist.”

  He was right. She had tried to block the knowledge she was living above a BDSM club from her memory. And why wouldn’t she? Places like that were where horrors existed. Where women lived for one purpose only—to serve the men who had brought them there. To do as they were told, when they were told, without dare opening their mouths or there would be severe consequences.

  Rope burns to never leave my body.

  Candle wax so hot that it felt as if it burned through my bones.

  Knives that used my skin as their canvas, turning it into a horrible picture.

  Still, he was right. She had ignored the calls of her friends and sister for over a week now. Had refused to acknowledge a world existed outside these walls, telling herself she just needed time to gather her courage and face it.

  I’ve turned into a human ostrich.

  She raised her chin. “What do you want from me?”

  “I call in my first IOU.”

  From the moment she accepted Vince’s proposition, she had waited in dreaded anticipation of when he’d put his IOU cards in play. By now, she had at least expected him to order her to submit to him on her bare knees in his club, for everyone to witness her humiliation. Honestly, waiting for the ax to drop had been tiresome.

  When he returned, holding a leather corset and tiny red panties, she knew she was in trouble.

  CHAPTER 16

  CARMEN

  Walking back into a BDSM club was like going through a gauntlet. The dark, cherry wood floors, and charcoal walls felt eerily familiar, confining even. Her heart was pounding, close to exploding out of her chest as she took in the space. The first time she’d entered Club Obsidian was weeks ago, to meet with a man claiming to have dirt on her. She’d put on a latex suit and pretended to be a regular. She’d barely taken the time, or effort, to take in her surroundings. After all, once you’d seen a
BDSM club up close, surely, you’d seen them all?

  As it appeared, that was not the case. For starters, she didn’t have to wear a blindfold as she entered the place. Unlike when Franco had taken her to Red Velvet, which had been the first red flag the place was off the map. Also, this time, she had Sy and Vince at her side. They flanked her going in, greeting the security guard.

  “On the left are the female changing rooms,” Sy explained.

  “You need a minute to yourself, go in there.”

  This time, it was Vince trying to reassure her. Did she appear so spineless, they had to explain safety protocol to her? Did she look like a deer staring into headlights? She sure felt like it, and part of her hated herself for showing weakness. It was a sure way to get them to take advantage of that.

  That’s what Franco would do.

  They are not Franco.

  But what if…

  “I’m fine.” She was better than fine. She was standing in a club she hated, and hadn’t thrown up yet. That on its own was a win.

  A hand massaged her neck. “Breathe.”

  She intertwined her fingers with Sy’s, not caring what it told him about her state of mind. He was her rock, whether he wanted to be or not.

  “Remember, you’re just here to observe, not participate,” Vince said.

  It was time to get a grip. This place didn’t look anything like that seedy place where Franco had taken her. Yes, shadows were cast in every corner, where couples sat on large, leather chairs, or richly decorated ottomans, but there was a bouncy, breath of fresh air to the place. There were women dressed in all colors of the rainbow, some chatting in corners, others having a drink at the bar. Her eyes grew wide when one of them laughed out loud to a guy dressed in leathers. He slapped her butt, and pulled on the leash she had around her neck.

  A mini explosion happened in her brain, taking her back to years ago.

  Ropes chafing her skin, making it raw.

  A paddle hitting her flesh, bruising it.

  The merciless pull of a leash forcing her up from the floor.

  “No…”

  She jumped forward, ready to pounce on that man, when Vince grabbed her arm.