Get Off Easy

by Sara Brookes

  The desire to know, to see, his reaction was strong, but she kept her gaze focused on a point just beyond her knees. This was something she hadn’t done in the month they’d played. Hadn’t showed them just how much she wanted—and needed—this kind of exchange to be a part of their everyday life. Adopting the position was a risk, considering how deeply she’d hurt them, but it was the quickest way she could think of to get their attention and allow her to explain.

  Her heart thudded harder as Saint crouched and slipped a finger under her chin to lift her face. She didn’t resist and was glad she didn’t when she spotted the warmth dancing in his gaze, even though she detected a hint of skepticism.

  She deserved it.

  Her apology sat on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t unleash it. Not yet. Because she wasn’t certain if he would allow her to stay.

  “Why are you kneeling?”

  “To ask forgiveness.”

  “Last I checked, that is done with your mouth. And at eye level.”

  Despite the teasing note to his statement, fear stabbed her gut. Determined to make this all right, she remained in place knowing it was time she held nothing back. She was not fucking this all up again. “This is how a submissive asks forgiveness from her Master.”

  Saint was quiet, but he flexed and released his fingers, a sign he was thinking. Evaluating. Calculating. Waiting.

  “I see.” He paused again, as though he was measuring his words. “Since you’re willing to ask for forgiveness this way, does that mean you’ll accept the punishment your Master feels is necessary for leaving him?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Very well. We’ll visit this again later tonight. As much as I enjoy seeing this, seeing you like this, there are some things we need to clear up before you go to your knees again.” As he stood, he offered her his hand. “Understood?”

  He was going to give her a chance. Tears wet the corners of her eyes as she nodded. His skin was warm, as though he’d had his hands in his pockets before he’d opened the door. He backed into the hallway, and shut the door behind her.

  At least she couldn’t make a quick exit now.

  He tugged on her hand, encouraging her to follow him to the living room. When he sat on the couch, she did as well, but maintained a distance so they could talk. The fabric cupped her, welcoming her as though she’d never left. A reminder of when she’d fallen asleep in this very spot the night she’d shown up on their doorstep.

  It seemed like so long ago.

  “Thank you for giving me an opportunity to say what I need.”

  “We never said we wouldn’t. Or that you couldn’t. Boyce told you we would wait.”

  Though her heart soared, she felt awkward. They’d known she was going to come to them eventually. They’d given her more credit than she’d given herself. “Is he around?”

  “He’s at Noble House.”

  Grae’s head shot up. “You’re not with him?” The idea of Boyce playing without Saint struck her in the gut harder than expected. That wasn’t right. The men belonged together. Needed one another.

  “Panic just as clear as day.” Saint smoothed his hand down the side of her face. “He’s installing a new set of photographs in Kochran’s gallery. Replacing the old black and whites with something a bit more...modern.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’ll call him in a minute. I have something I need to say first.” Saint withdrew his touch. “We never wanted you to leave, Grae.”

  A hot flash of shame and mortification speared Grae in the gut, replacing the thoughts she’d had that Boyce was at the club playing without Saint. “What I did was wrong. I know. Even if I didn’t see it clearly then, I do now.”

  “You waltz back in here, and we’re supposed to welcome you with open arms?”

  “No. But I would like the opportunity to talk things over. Even if we can’t come to some kind of middle ground...at least I know I tried.”

  Saint’s phone rang. He stared at her through the first few rings before withdrawing it from his pocket and answering.

  Grae didn’t know what to do while he talked to the caller. But she knew she wasn’t going to be swayed. An explanation, however much it hurt to admit, needed to be laid out on the table. She wasn’t leaving here without giving one.

  Saint set his phone on the couch between them, and picked up a nearby tablet. “Someone would like to be in on this conversation.”

  A quick glance down showed Boyce’s name on the phone’s display. Seconds later, his handsome face came into view on the flat-screen television across the room. Though he appeared relaxed, it felt as though his eyes were boring through her.

  She immediately cast her gaze downward. “Hello, Boyce.”

  “Hey there, angel.”

  Angel.

  Maybe there was hope.

  Given the glimmer of opportunity, she didn’t wait for him to say anything else. “I know I screwed up with you both. That when I chose to walk away, I irrevocably damaged what we had between the three of us. I can’t do anything to take it all back. I would if I could, believe me.” Both men remained quiet, as though they understood she needed to rid herself of the emotions marking her so deeply. “It was selfish of me to think the way I did. To say what I did to you both without giving you a chance.”

  “You wrote us off before we ever really began,” Boyce stated calmly.

  “I know.” Grae sighed, knowing what she was about to say scared the hell out of her. “And you have every right to tell me to get out of your lives forever.” When the men remained silent, she pressed on, grateful they hadn’t taken her up on the offer. “I spent the past two weeks doing a lot of thinking. A lot of soul-searching. Getting a new perspective on things. I still have a long way to go, but I’m trying.”

  “Nothing wrong with a work in progress.”

  “I was afraid.”

  Saint touched the back of her hand. “Of losing us?”

  “As crazy as it sounds, I was afraid of getting exactly what I wanted. That I really could have the life I’d always dreamed about.”

  Boyce glanced at something offscreen and indicated he would be one minute. “Doesn’t sound crazy to me. You were scared. We understood that. You just didn’t let us love you. Give us all a chance to work things out.”

  “I wrote us off.” And nothing she could say would ever, ever make up for it. “But all those things I was afraid of? I’m still afraid. Petrified, really. But the fear of not having the two of you in my life anymore overrides everything else.” Heat pricked at her eyes. Overwhelmed with emotion, she let the tears stream down her cheeks. “Whatever issues we have, we can work through them. But I want to work them out with you. Both.”

  Boyce sighed. “I’m not sure it’s enough, Grae.”

  Her heart sank even as her gaze shifted to Saint, looking for a different answer. Seeking some kind of forgiveness. “Do you feel the same?”

  Saint nodded slowly. “As a couple, Boyce and I make a lot of decisions together. Choices that affect both our lives. Adding you, wanting you between us, in our relationship, wasn’t something we went into wearing blinders. We knew in order to allow you with us, even just for play, we were going to have to open our hearts.”

  “And we did, Grae. We knew the danger—both individually and together—we faced with our choice. We accepted that,” Boyce added.

  “But you couldn’t accept us. Couldn’t give us a chance. That kind of pain isn’t something we can easily get over.”

  Saint’s admission stung. Grae rose, wiping tears from her eyes.

  “Please understand that I had to try. Had to come to apologize, at least. Even if my effort didn’t make it all right between us, at least I had to have the chance to say I was sorry.” Her voice broke on the last word. She cleared her throat, lifted h
er chin, and inhaled deeply. “I love you both. So much. I’m sorry I screwed it all up for us. And thank you for giving me the chance to have my say.”

  She couldn’t take it anymore.

  Couldn’t be in the same room pouring her heart out like this.

  As she turned, she felt her heart fracturing, the pieces stripping away the closer she got to the door.

  The hope Saint would stop her, come after her, faded as she set her hand on the latch and spun it. Tory had it all wrong. Grae wasn’t a superhero. But she sure possessed the power to fuck up three lives in a single swoop.

  Grae Burrows: Fuckup extraordinaire.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  No.

  This wasn’t right.

  Wasn’t the way things were supposed to go.

  Grae paused in the doorway, her heart racing. Steady in the resolve that she wouldn’t end things this way, she slammed the door shut and spun around. As determination flowed through her, she balled her hands into fists at her sides. She couldn’t possibly make this any worse than she already had.

  So, she went for it.

  “I’m not leaving. At least not that easily. You’re going to have to throw me out, physically put me out on my ass, if you want to get rid of me. I belong here. In your home. I belong with you both. It’s not wrong to love you. To want a life, a family with you. I can find new clients. I can find another job if I have to, but I can’t find either of you. I can’t...can’t bear the thought of watching you two share another submissive. And, yes, I know I could just join another club and never have to worry about seeing you with someone else. But that’s the point. I want to worry. About you both. I...want to be the woman...the submissive you turn to. The woman you let take care of you. What I said at the ball? Yeah, I’m petrified. But I don’t want to give my heart to anyone else. I don’t want...”

  She trailed off, lifting her face. Though she was scared that she would lose everything, she knew she needed to press forward. This time, she would expel the darkness swirling inside her. Hold nothing back. It was the only way she could live with herself.

  Even if she failed.

  “I don’t want to lose either of you. And if you don’t want me, that’s fine. I’ll accept it. But you’re going to have to say it. You’re going to have to tell me that I don’t have a place here with you. I won’t leave without hearing you say you don’t want me. Both of you. Please. Say something. Anything.”

  Saint rose off the couch, face angled toward the television. “You coming home?”

  “Yeah,” Boyce answered coolly. “Have a bit to finish up here, though. So take your time.”

  Grae nearly growled. “Don’t pretend I’m not here. I’m not leaving.” Not this time. Not ever. “Goddammit, would you at least look at me, Ford Templar?”

  The screen went black, and Saint tucked the phone in his pocket as he drew near. Fear, anger, hope, love, and other emotions she couldn’t put a name to swirled inside her. Had she made it all worse by ordering their acknowledgement?

  So. The. Fuck. What.

  Her dignity was already in tatters. What she’d said couldn’t possibly make things any worse.

  “I’m not leaving,” she repeated, this time with more power behind her words. She had to make Saint understand. Make him grasp just how much she loved and cared for them. How much she knew she’d screwed it all up. If they would just listen to her.

  “My mother would use my full name when I was in trouble. That’s when I knew I needed to find the best hiding spot possible and fear for my life. ’Cause if she found me? I was in for a world of hurt.” Saint lifted his hands, smoothing the contours of her jaw as he swept his thumbs over her cheeks. “We didn’t say we wanted you to leave, did we? And we never stopped loving you. I’m proud of you, baby. So fucking proud.”

  He swooped in, closing his mouth over hers. Demanding. Taking. Possessing. Branding her with a powerful need. Everything she’d been feeling vanished, replaced with the desperate need for Saint to continue kissing her. The contact meant she had a chance. That a sliver of hope existed where this relationship could be repaired.

  He broke away slowly, his bottle-green eyes sparking.

  “I don’t...I don’t understand. You’re...proud of me?” For what? For being a dumbass?

  “You stayed.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “You didn’t run. You dug deep and found the determination we knew you had inside you all along. You fought for yourself. For us. For our present. And our future. For our family. For the new life we’re going to build together.” He kissed both cheeks. “You had to be the one to realize what you wanted, Grae. You had to get there on your own. No amount of badgering, cajoling, persuading, or even ordering would help. In fact it would have just made you blame us. Or worse, resent us. We couldn’t force you to accept anything. No matter how much we told you that we loved you.”

  “And the best way to get me to understand was—”

  “To let you go.” He smiled slyly. “Though I will admit, I nearly had to tie Boyce down on three separate occasions during the past two weeks because he wanted to storm down your door.”

  “What about you?”

  “My temper wasn’t without its own difficulties. I nearly landed myself in the stockade at Noble House for a whipping doled out by Kochran and Boyce.”

  “I would’ve liked to have seen that.”

  “You and every other member of the club.” He touched his forehead to hers. “It’s our life now.”

  “I thought I couldn’t have everything I wanted. My career. You. Boyce. Kids. The utterly mind-blowing sex. Submission. Noble House. It all was...”

  “Too much?”

  Heat flushed her cheeks. “I thought I was being greedy.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, wanting all those things doesn’t make you greedy. They make you, Grae. And we both love you very much for every single one of those things. And, yes, you can have all of those things. With us. I thought you would have figured it out as soon as you realized we knew you wanted both of us together without anything between us. I knew from the very beginning what you wanted. No one has ever pushed you, have they? Truly.”

  She didn’t need to answer. The tone of Saint’s voice signaled he already knew.

  He stood back, distancing himself from her as he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. Intimidating her with just the power of his stare. Her fear was back, swirling dark and foreboding in her gut, but it was different this time. A potent distress as he pinned her with his gaze.

  In the blink of an eye, the air had become charged.

  “You were so gorgeous in the hall, on your knees. I need that truth, Grae. Right now. That honesty as you’re submitting to me. This won’t be play at the club. A scene staged for thousands of members to watch. This is real. This is us. No shields. No barriers. No cameras. Us. Surrender. Right now. As I see fit.”

  She nodded, her heart soaring.

  “There you go. My good, sweet girl. My angel. Our angel.” Saint kissed her again, his gaze on hers as he pulled away. “Strip and kneel.”

  * * *

  Darkness blanketed her vision as Saint slipped the blindfold in place. A surge of panic caused her heart to leap into her throat.

  “Shh, angel, relax.” He pressed his lips against her forehead, a comforting gesture in the dark. Being blindfolded wasn’t a hard limit, but she liked being able to see. Liked knowing what was coming.

  The bindings holding her in place tightened the more she struggled.

  “Breathe, angel.”

  She inhaled as Saint instructed, counting in her head each passing second. When she reached thirty and could take in no more air, she began releasing. Her bindings relaxed as well. Robbed of sight and held immobile, she listened to something heavy scrape across the hardwood floor.

  Su
ddenly, Saint cupped her heat. She sighed and pushed against his hand. His touch firmed, pushing her pelvis back into position. He scissored his fingers, parting her. Something clicked, and she felt a touch against her opening. The item pushed further, spreading her as it slipped inside. Another click sounded and the item stopped its progress.

  So full. She squirmed and was immediately rewarded with a sharp slap against her thigh. She cried out, but stopped moving.

  “Good girl.” A hard, smooth object brushed against her lips. “Open your mouth for me.”

  As she did, Saint pushed the item between her lips, slipping it into place so the ball gag muffled her cries.

  Damn, he really means business.

  And she loved it.

  She swallowed as best as she could with the gag in place, waiting patiently while he fixed the straps against her neck. Something cool and wet smoothed over her anus seconds before one of Saint’s fingers slipped through the opening.

  “Bear down on my finger.” As she did, his finger slipped deeper and the bright spot of pain shimmering through her changed to a pleasurable burn. More cool slickness and another finger. She relaxed by the second, her pussy filled, and Saint playing in her back passage.

  When he withdrew his fingers, she moaned around the gag.

  He kissed the round curve of her ass as something probed against her tight bud. Not his fingers this time. Something thicker. She accepted the item easily and figured it was another dildo, only much thinner than what he’d placed inside her already. When the click sounded this time, the item pushed forward at a much slower rate. The dildo inside her pussy and the addition of the other in her ass made her feel as though she would burst. But she trusted Saint enough to know he would never do anything to harm her.