The Wolves Catch Their Attorney [Shape-Shifter Clinic 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
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She couldn’t betray them by taking someone else when they’d trusted her so deeply. She would just have to be strong and determined. Ugh. This was going to be so hard.
Tomorrow was Sunday and she’d need to do all the chores she would normally have done today. She’d meet them early Monday morning and talk to them.
Sierra entered a note into her calendar then texted the men.
Meet you in the clinic parking lot 6:45 a.m. Monday for brief talk. Will bring coffee and bagels.
She dropped her cell phone into her purse. Damn this is going to be difficult!
* * * *
Cam was intrigued to know why Sierra wanted to see them. Obviously she wanted to say something to them, but why just in the parking lot? Why not meet for a proper breakfast somewhere? Okay, they lived quite a distance apart from each other, which was a nuisance, but it wasn’t the end of the world. He’d have been happy to meet her anywhere she suggested and he was sure Fergus would have agreed, too. Oh, well, it was a bright, sunny Monday morning and knowing he’d see Sierra, however briefly, made his day even better.
He smiled as the candy-apple-red car drove into the parking lot. Cam climbed out of his own car and leaned against the trunk, watching her get out of hers. She bent down to the passenger seat and lifted a cardboard container of coffees out and sat them on the roof of her car, then she picked up a bag and put that on the roof, too.
“Coffee and bagels as promised, eh?” he said, grinning at her. She looked so lovely. He could see a jacket hanging up on the hook over the backseat passenger door of her car, but Sierra looked perfect in a moss-green shirt and a slender-line tan skirt. The colors looked great with her brown hair and amber eyes. Her eyes were amazing. He hardly even noticed the color because they were always so bright and full of life.
Fergus drove up and stopped beside them. “Sorry. I was stopped for ages in a construction zone,” he said.
Cam nodded. Yes, everyone knew the joke about the seasons in Ohio. There were two seasons—winter and construction.
Cam watched Sierra. He wouldn’t go so far as to say she seemed worried or even nervous, but her movements weren’t quite as smooth and flowing as usual. That was it. Her actions were more mechanical and less graceful than usual. So whatever she wanted to say to them had upset her. He rather thought that Sierra would be capably going about her daily life when other people would be sitting in a darkened room hiding from the world, so the fact she was nervous made him worried.
Oh fuck! She’s not about to tell us to leave her alone is she? Surely she can’t be. I know she’s really busy and really committed to her job besides being damn good at it, but surely there’s room for us in her life as well.
Cam couldn’t bear the thought that he might not see her again. He looked forward to the time they spent together. He enjoyed talking to her, being with her, and fucking her—that was the best of all. But even if she’d said, “No more sex,” he’d have wanted to spend time with her, because he loved every facet of her personality as well as every inch of her body.
Love? Is this love? Yes, I believe it is. I’m in love with Sierra. She’s beautiful, wonderful, special, and she belongs to Fergus and to me.
Wow! Cam was still coming to terms with his mental revelation when Sierra handed him a bagel and a cup of coffee.
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”
She seemed a little surprised, but she didn’t back away from him, simply handed Fergus his coffee and bagel, too, then leaned her hip against her car and sipped her own coffee.
Fergus raised an eyebrow. “Well, Madam Attorney, it seems this court is now in session. Why have you requested our presence this morning?”
“Not that I wouldn’t be happy to have you request our presence every morning,” interrupted Cam.
She smiled then looked all around her. Apart from themselves and a couple of unattended parked cars, the lot was empty.
“I’m about to tell you something that no one else knows. Absolutely no one. Telling you this gives you both the power to completely destroy my career.”
“I would never hurt you or your career. Never ever,” said Cam. Surely she couldn’t imagine he’d do anything to harm her? He might have only just worked out he loved her, but she must know he cared for her and would protect her with his own life.
“You have my word of honor that I won’t betray your trust,” said Fergus seriously.
Sierra nodded and stood up straight. Cam guessed she was putting her court attitude on as if it were a garment so that she could speak clearly and without emotion. What the fuck is upsetting her? Has someone threatened her? I’ll kill the motherfucker if he has.
“Did you know that John Glover Roberts Jr. was appointed Chief Justice of the United States at age fifty?”
Huh? What the fuck has that to do with anything? “No. If that was taught at school I wasn’t listening that day,” said Cam.
“Me either.”
“That wasn’t a pop test, it was to put a few facts into perspective. Most Supreme Court judges are about age fifty when they’re appointed. In less than two years I’ll be thirty. I’ve set my thirtieth birthday as the deadline for me becoming a partner at Bailey and Bond Attorneys at Law.”
Okay, that made sense. “You’re a damn good lawyer. You’ll do it,” he said.
“I think Sierra means that something has come up that could prevent her from achieving her aim,” said Fergus.
“It’s nothing new, just the whole gender thing. There’s still an entire realm of older white males who think a woman in a career is just using it to fuck her way into the CEO’s bed, so he’ll marry her and she can quit working. That her work isn’t a career in itself, just a means to an end. The glass ceiling is very real in many occupations, and law is one of them.”
Yes, he’d seen that in hospitals, with some of the best female doctors and surgeons being passed over for promotion and the job given to a less able male.
“I have an invitation to a Gala Celebration on Friday. For me, these events are not about eating an exquisite meal, drinking a glass of five-hundred-dollar champagne, and listening to a boring speaker tell me how he wonderful he is. For me it’s about arriving early, leaving late, and not even sipping the fantastic wines, but spending every available minute moving through the crowd, meeting people who can help me advance my career. To stay on top of my job, to get cases that are winnable and will make the company money, I have to see people and be seen. I have to be there where all the rich old men are, meeting them on their own terms.”
“We understand that. We respect your desire to succeed, and we know you’re completely capable of succeeding. But there’s more, isn’t there? You wouldn’t have told us your dream if we weren’t to be involved in it somewhere,” said Fergus.
“That’s right. This gala is one where the most-senior men bring their wives, even their young adult children, and flaunt them as trophies. ‘Look at me. I’m Mr. Big Money Attorney and this is my beautiful wife and my perfect little princess daughter,’” she said in a voice dripping with enough sugar to send an ordinary person into a diabetic coma.
Cam smiled. “So this year you will arrive with two incredibly handsome, well-dressed men, who will treat you like their perfect princess instead? Should we hire tuxedos with black ties or white?”
Fergus nodded. “Or maybe one of each for variety?”
Sierra laughed. “You’re willing to do it? It won’t be easy for you. It’s all about me and my job.”
“Of course. And if you tell us who the most important people there will be, we’ll even Google them so we can have some suitably honeyed words to offer them should we be permitted to speak,” teased Fergus.
“Why don’t we hire a room at the hotel where the gala’s being held so we can all get beautified on the spot, and stay as late as you wish without worrying about having to drive home again,” said Cam. And I can sleep with you for the rest of the night as a bonus.
“That�
��s not a bad idea. I could get my hair and makeup done in the room, too, so there’d be no danger of messing it up on the way to the party.”
“Oh, no. A room full of women doing girl stuff!” groaned Fergus.
Cam laughed. “I’ve never seen that before. As long as I can watch, it’ll all be good.”
Fergus spoke more seriously. “Sierra, send us a list of what we need to wear, what we need to bring, and what we need to know. Cam and I will treat this like an oral nursing examination and make damn sure we don’t let you down.”
“We will.” Cam was serious. He understood this was very important to Sierra and he’d do his bit, including lick the boots of whoever he had to, so that she could fulfill her dreams.
* * * *
Sierra had sent copies of the guest list to Fergus and Cam, and also the name of the formal-clothing hire company where she was planning to choose a dress as well. She simply couldn’t afford a new gown of the highest quality for every event she attended, and preferred to hire a much nicer gown than actually own several lesser dresses. Besides, it meant what she wore was always of the latest fashion, as well as different from the previous time.
She’d also booked them a suite to stay in overnight. If she was getting her hair and makeup done professionally in the hotel room, they’d need a suite not just a single room.
This is going to cost a lot of money, but it’s all tax deductible, and if it gets me my promotion or good new clients it’ll be well worth the price.
She took a picture of herself wearing the dress she’d chosen, then sent it to the men suggesting they buy themselves buttonhole flowers in the correct color to match her outfit, and Fergus texted back asking if he bought flowers for her hair, would that go with what her stylist was planning to do?
It’d been a long time since a man had bought her flowers. None of the people at the gala would have seen her with flowers in her hair, so it was an excellent idea, and she touched at his—their—thoughtfulness.
On Friday evening, by the time she was ready to take the elevator down to the convention floor for the gala, she was much too tense. She stood still, practiced some deep breathing, then closed her eyes and pictured herself as a judge of the Supreme Court. The chances of her ever being one of the nine top judges in the whole of the United States were negligible, but it was the top rung of the career ladder and she needed something to aim for.
When she opened her eyes again, Fergus and Cam were standing in front of her. Their eyes were filled with pleasure, appreciation, and more. Not lust exactly, but something stronger than mere liking. She cast a glance up and down their elegant forms. They both looked totally delightful. Fergus stood out because of his bright red hair as well as his height and long, lean body. Cam’s shiny brown hair and deep brown eyes were the perfect foil for his muscular body that filled the shoulders of his tuxedo. His body was the triangle shape considered perfect by many women, and it certainly looked mighty fine to her, too.
They’d decided to both wear white ties with their tuxedos, and had tiny blue orchids in their lapels. Orchids that were the same as the buds piled into the center of her updo and which matched the frothy pile of lace flowing from her right shoulder down the back of her dress to just touch the floor behind her. Her breasts were barely hinted at in a V-shaped neckline, her hips were defined by the flowing lines of the skirt, and her toes peeked out from the lace in front.
“You look perfect,” said Fergus.
“Thank you.” She’d spent a long time choosing the gown. Blue wasn’t a color she wore often, but that was a good reason to wear it tonight, because the professional makeup and hair styling ensured any fears she might have had about the color not suiting her because of her eye color were erased by their amazing skills. Also choosing a very different color emphasized that this wasn’t a gown anyone might have seen her wear before. Even the cattiest women couldn’t pretend she’d worn blue any time in their memory. Someone would be sure to remember the colors she had worn though, so it was best to be different. Damn, it’s hard work being a female. No one cares if a man only has one tuxedo.
Cam said, “Fergus dances the first dance with you because he’s the best dancer. I dance the second one unless someone cuts in on you. If you don’t want to dance with someone you touch your earrings and I’ll come and say I’d already requested this dance.”
“And if you get me a drink?” she asked.
“It’s only ever sparkling water and we watch the barman pour it and hold it in front of ourselves. Although I can’t imagine anyone trying to spike your drink when we’re both here with you,” said Fergus.
“I find it purely disgusting that people would even try to do these things with any woman. Not just Sierra, but any woman. Whatever happened to good manners?” asked Cam.
“This level of society is just as a much of a jungle as at the bottom. Let’s go. I want to see who’s there early who needs a better attorney.”
Fergus hurried ahead of her to open the door, putting the keycard in the inner pocket of his suit coat. She appreciated that little gesture. It’d be very hard for a pickpocket to get it from there.
She was carrying a miniscule little clutch purse on a chain over her wrist. It held a lipstick with a little mirror and some tissues. Cam had the invitation in his top pocket and if she needed to do any genuine repairs to her makeup or if she spilled something on her dress she’d come back to the room to fix it.
Cam pressed the button for the elevator and both men smiled at her.
As the doors opened she recognized one of the men already in the elevator car and she knew for a fact the buxom blonde hanging on his arm was not his wife. Nevertheless she smiled and said, “Roland, how nice to see you.”
Fergus and Cam moved as one to stand beside her and she slid into work mode. Deep inside she was rejoicing. If one of the men felt he could turn up with his girlfriend instead of his wife, that meant no one would have any justification to be more than usually rude about her arriving with two escorts. This was an event where a partner was a trophy. Roland evidently felt that for this event his girlfriend was a much better trophy than his wife. People would just think that in Sierra’s usual courtroom style she had simply doubled the stakes to bring two handsome men instead of the more traditional one.
Five hours later her feet were killing her, her back hurt, and her face was tired from endlessly smiling at people she would quite often have preferred to ignore. But she’d worked the event from one end of the huge ballroom to the other and back again. She’d spoken to everyone of consequence and a huge number of people who weren’t. She’d made sure to introduce both men to the males who’d harassed her in the past and to those she was eager to impress in the future. She’d made time to talk with people she genuinely liked, and she’d sat at a table with a potential client who’d said he’d send work her way immediately. Since they’d shaken hands on the deal, she was certain she’d been successful. Handshakes were more likely to be kept than contracts at this level of society.
Sierra had danced once with each of her men, and once each with two important clients. She’d danced twice with another man who she hoped would become a client. She’d eaten an extremely expensive meal but had no idea what it was or what it tasted like. Her brain had been too busy noting the people she still needed to speak to, and impressing the new client.
At the end of the evening as people were leaving she was still talking to a woman who might become a client, and then to two friends of hers, some of the few guests she’d been genuinely pleased to catch up with.
Cam held her arm as they returned to the lift, maintaining their work mode all the way into their own suite. As soon as the door was shut behind them she sank down onto a chair and bent to unstrap her sandals. Immediately Cam kneeled at her feet. “Let me do that. Are your feet sore?”
“Hellishly. These shoes looked great with the dress, but I was ready to kick them off a couple hours ago.”
Cam carefully took her sandals off th
en massaged the ball of her foot, the heel, the arch, and each individual toe. Then he did the same to her other foot.
“Thanks. That feels so good.”
“I could do other things to make you feel good, too.”
“You do head massages as well?” she teased, reaching up to take some of the pins out of her hair. Cam remained at her feet, rubbing them and relaxing her. Fergus, who’d already removed his shoes, jacket, and bow tie, stood beside her with his hands outstretched to take the pins and flowers from her as she pulled each one loose. It would have been easier if she was standing in front of the mirror, but she was done standing for the day.
Finally her hair was free, and while Fergus piled all the hairclips and flowers onto the bathroom sink, Cam began massaging her head gently rubbing and soothing her scalp, moving from front to back and side to side.
“Wow. That’s good. You’ve got very talented fingers,” she said.
Fergus pulled her to her feet and unzipped her gown, helping her from it, while Cam went into the other room and brought back the garment bag to hang it in.
The two men removed and hung up their own suits, shirts, and ties, and she took off the rest of her clothes, then joined them in the bedroom.
Fergus pulled her around to face him. “I’ve planned a full-on dungeon scene for tonight. If you’re too tired, that’s fine, you can simply go to sleep. There’s no pressure on you here. You’re free to choose whatever you want. But what I’ve designed is something that’ll take all the stress away from you, and bring you to a perfect, screaming release.”
Sierra looked into his eyes and knew that just as both men had been a wonderful support to her all night, she could trust him to guide her through a genuine BDSM scene. Suddenly she wasn’t tired at all. Her cunt clenched with need and her nipples formed themselves into tight little points. That was exactly what she needed now. Punishment, submission, pain that would bring her to enormous pleasure.