Masterful Truth

by Mari Carr

“She was,” Caden agreed.

  “Are you two…?”

  “I no longer have a relationship with her.”

  Donal grunted. “I’m sorry. You were great together. These are your new subs or are you just training them?”

  “They’re mine. Novices to the scene.”

  Donal cleared his throat. “Novices? Anderson, man, don’t take this the wrong way, but maybe you shouldn’t be initiating novices. You’ll scare them away.”

  “You mean you won’t be inviting me to your munch?” Caden asked in a perfectly even tone.

  Donal raised a brow. “No, I won’t. My firm relocated me here, and there isn’t much of a scene, at least not like what we have at Las Palmas, so I’m trying to get something started. Pat’s Pub is an institution. I thought people might be more comfortable coming to a munch if it was here. But it would be better if you weren’t here. You’d scare them.”

  “I’m just passing through,” Caden said. “My new pets aren’t aware of my…reputation. Perhaps you’d care to enlighten them?”

  It was obvious Isaiah took great offense to the term “pet.” Tess wasn’t crazy about it either, but her mother didn’t raise a fool. Caden clearly wanted her and Isaiah to listen and learn. She subtly shook her head at Isaiah when he started to speak, and he closed his mouth in a hard, angry line that said he would definitely get his say later.

  Donal reached across the table, as if he was going to touch Tess’ chin.

  “Do not touch my sub,” Caden all but snarled.

  Donal’s eyes flashed with challenge, and he stared at Caden. Finally, he looked at Isaiah and said, “If you’d like a gentler introduction to the lifestyle, I’d be happy to show you. Both of you. Anderson is not a good first Dom. When a sub is misbehaving, you threaten to give her to Anderson for a night. Watching him and Darling could make even the most jaded of us nervous.”

  Tess swallowed hard. She’d seen only brief flashes of the man Donal described and none of those had felt threatening. Looking back, she wondered if that was how she should have felt when Caden gripped her wrists, or if she should have heard it in the timbre of his voice.

  “We’re happy with him,” Isaiah said quietly. His anger at Caden seemed to fade when Donal issued what Tess assumed was an insult. Finally, Isaiah seemed to understand Caden’s game. And in typical Isaiah fashion, he was quick to defend his partner. “You don’t need to warn us.”

  Donal stared at Isaiah, who met his gaze levelly. Then he shook his head. “I still don’t think this is a good idea, but I won’t stand in the way of two consenting adults. I mean, three consenting adults.”

  “I haven’t shown them my party trick,” Caden said.

  Donal frowned for a moment, then smiled. “Ah, the woman with the braid?”

  Caden nodded.

  “What are you talking about?” Tess asked.

  “Sir,” Caden snapped.

  “What?”

  “You address me as Sir or Master. Repeat your question and mind your manners.”

  Was he serious?

  Caden grabbed her chin, forcing her to turn and look at him, his touch just tight enough to make her suck in air. His gaze bored into hers, and Tess felt like a mouse looking into the eyes of a snake. This man was a stranger to her. She didn’t like it.

  Isaiah lunged across the table, but Donal grabbed his arm. “He’s within his rights to correct her for failing to address him properly. If you want to be with Anderson, you need to accept this.”

  “No. I don’t.”

  “Excuse me?” Donal asked in a voice almost as deep and hard as Caden’s.

  Caden shot Isaiah a look, and for a moment, the confident man she’d come to know Isaiah to be looked like he didn’t know what to do.

  “Look at me,” Caden commanded Tess. “And address me properly.”

  Tess’ voice shook with nerves. “Sir. What are you talking about, Sir?” Wow. That tasted like mud.

  Caden released her as if nothing had happened.

  Donal was watching them carefully. “Are you comfortable with what just happened?” he asked her.

  Hell no.

  But Tess wasn’t going to tell a stranger that. She nodded, then looked at Isaiah, whose eyes glittered with anger and perhaps a bit of fear.

  “I have a gift,” Caden said smoothly. “I can tell what a sub needs, what will help tear down her—or his—defenses so they can truly submit. It’s human nature to hide what we want most, what scares us, and what we desire, if that desire isn’t socially acceptable.”

  “And you have some magical ability to figure out what people are hiding?” Isaiah snapped.

  “I do,” Caden confirmed. “The woman sitting at the bar, the one with her hair in a braid, is a submissive.”

  “You can’t tell that just by looking at someone,” Isaiah insisted.

  “Normally I would agree,” Donal said, “but in Anderson’s case, I’ve seen it happen one too many times. Plus, she knew what a munch was.”

  Caden shook his head. “She’s heard the term, nothing more. She’s a…virgin.” Caden’s gaze slipped to Tess.

  Donal was looking at the woman with a predatory light in his eyes. “What does she need?”

  “Peace,” Caden said, surprising Tess. From the look on his face, Caden’s response surprised Isaiah too. “She’s being crushed by the weight of her life. Take away her control and her responsibility. Keep her on the edge of orgasm until she can no longer remember her name, then fuck her until she’s sobbing in relief.”

  Tess’ nipples had tightened to hard points inside her bra, and Isaiah’s gaze was hot with desire.

  “Exactly what I thought,” Donal said. “Maybe I don’t need to organize a munch.”

  “No, perhaps not,” Caden said.

  “In that case, I’ll leave you to your meal.” Donal looked at Tess one last time. “Please remember what I said. If you would like to be introduced to the lifestyle in a gentler manner, call me.” He laid a business card on the table, rose, and walked to the bar.

  Padraig hustled over to Donal. “Due to health code, I don’t think we’re going to be able to accommodate your party.”

  Donal nodded, but was looking at the woman with the braid, who was staring at her stack of papers and carefully not looking at Donal. “No BDSM acts would be performed in the bar.”

  Padraig pursed his lips. “Then why would you move the furniture?”

  “I thought I’d bring in a St. Andrew’s cross, as a visual aid only.”

  The woman with the braid dropped her papers again.

  “Yeah, I don’t think so,” Padraig said.

  “I understand,” Donal replied absently as he bent to once more help the woman pick up her papers.

  Padraig peered around the bar, probably checking to see if anyone heard. “Well, this conversation was wildly inappropriate.”

  Isaiah brought Tess’ attention back to their table when he looked at Caden and said, “Don’t ever do that again.”

  Tess felt Caden tense beside her. “That’s who I am.”

  Isaiah didn’t back down. “Then be someone else. You don’t get to treat us like that.”

  “You wanted to know who I was, what I was. This is it. I’m the man who is so brutal that other sadists are scared of him.”

  Sadist. The word hung in the air, heavy and thick, making it hard to breathe.

  “Who is Darling?” Tess asked.

  And that was when Caden shut down. “Just someone I used to know.”

  They were quiet for a few minutes, all of them pretending to look at their menus. Tess figured both men had been as thrown by what just happened as she had.

  Mercifully, Padraig’s aunt Riley came out from the kitchen and drew them into conversation, regaling them with funny stories about her kids and her Pop and some crazy friend of hers named Bubbles, who apparently used to be a ’ho in Vegas.

  Her humor was the distraction they needed and when she returned to the kitchen, conversation resumed mo
re easily, though they were all careful to avoid mentioning what had happened with Donal.

  They chatted quietly about their visit to Monticello and tried to determine if there were any other clues in the poem they could follow if that trip proved fruitless.

  An hour passed by pleasantly.

  “Are you ready to go?” Caden asked after they’d consumed an amazing meal. Both men had raved over the fish and chips and snuck more than a few bites of her shepherd’s pie.

  As they stood to leave, Padraig came over to meet them. “Hey, Isaiah. I’ve been trying to get back to your table for the past hour, but the lunch rush hit. Would you mind signing a couple of books for me? I loaned them to my brother, so they’re just upstairs in the family’s apartment. Won’t take me a minute to grab them.”

  “Sure thing,” Isaiah said, clearly flattered to be asked.

  Padraig walked toward a doorway near the back of the pub and disappeared.

  “You two stay here and I’ll go get the car out of the parking garage.” It didn’t escape her notice that he’d issued a command, not asked a question. At least he was using his normal voice.

  “I can come with you,” Tess offered.

  Caden shook his head. “No. The garage is only a couple blocks away. You stay here and visit with your friends a little longer. I’ll be right back.”

  She and Isaiah drifted over to the bar to wait for Padraig. Tris was there and anxious to talk to Isaiah as well. Tess figured this was a good example of what her future held as the wife of a New York Times best-selling author. Padraig returned and the conversation continued.

  Nearly twenty minutes had passed and yet Caden still hadn’t returned.

  “I wonder what’s keeping him,” Tess mused.

  Isaiah pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket, intent on texting him, when Caden staggered back into the bar. There was a large man walking next to him, offering him support.

  “Caden,” Tess called out, rushing over to him. “What happened?”

  Caden’s hand was on the side of his head and when he lifted it, she spotted the large bump there.

  “Jesus, man,” Isaiah said, pulling a chair over from a nearby table for Caden to sit on.

  “I’ll grab some ice,” Padraig offered.

  “Did you fall?” Tess asked.

  Caden shook his head, but winced as the action clearly caused him a great deal of pain.

  “Some dude bashed him over the head with a crowbar,” the stranger said. “I was standing across the street and saw the whole thing. There was too much traffic flying by, so by the time I got over to your friend here, the other guy was gone.”

  “Were you mugged?” Isaiah asked. “Did he grab your phone? Your wallet?”

  “No,” Caden muttered.

  “Then why would he hit you?” Tess asked.

  Caden shot her and Isaiah a look. “My money wasn’t what he was after.”

  “The journal?” Isaiah whispered.

  Caden nodded, his pained face revealing how much he was suffering. “Took it. Told me to stop looking or someone would get hurt.”

  “We should have left it in the car,” Isaiah murmured.

  Caden gave him a rueful grin that turned into a wince. “Thought it was safer with me.”

  Isaiah looked at the stranger who’d helped Caden to the pub. “Did the guy just run away?”

  “Ran about half a block, then got in some black luxury sedan. Headed away from me and it was too far away for me to see the license plate. I got shit eyesight anyway. Didn’t get a very good look at the guy. Truth is, the car could’a been next to me and I wouldn’t have seen a single letter on the plate.”

  “Thank you so much for stopping to help him,” Tess said.

  The guy shrugged his shoulders, embarrassed by her gratitude. “No big deal. Didn’t help much. Just got him to his feet and back here. He didn’t want me to call the cops or a squad.”

  Isaiah thanked the man, who said he had to get back to work.

  Padraig handed Caden the ice, shaking his head. “I’m afraid it’s stuff like this that gives Baltimore a bad name. You sure you don’t want to go to the hospital? We’re not too far away from Johns Hopkins.”

  “I’m sure,” Caden said. “My pride hurts worse than my head.”

  Padraig grinned. “I get that. Let me know if you need anything else.” He headed back to the bar.

  Tess placed the ice gently on his head. “It’s a hell of a bump. You might have a concussion. Maybe we should—”

  “I’m fine,” Caden insisted. “I’m more pissed off than anything.”

  “Did you get a look at the guy?” Isaiah asked.

  “No. Son of a bitch came at me from behind. Knocked me over the head and I went down. Think I might have lost consciousness for a few seconds. All I know is when I came to, everything was gray and hazy. The guy already had the journal. He warned me to stay away and then he was gone.”

  “The man who helped you saw a black town car,” Tess said.

  “Yeah, I heard that.”

  “You think it’s the Hancocks’ driver?” she asked.

  Caden nodded, and she noticed the movement didn’t seem as painful as before. “I’d bet my family’s fortune on it. So now they have your family’s copy of the poem and the journal.”

  “They’re a step behind us,” Isaiah said.

  “Which means we need to get that fan to the Smithsonian immediately. It’ll be safe there.” One of the things that most impressed Tess about the Smithsonian was their security system. Fort Knox would be easier to penetrate.

  “I’ll go get the car,” Isaiah said, but Caden shook his head as he stood up.

  “Safety in numbers. We’re all going together.”

  “You sure you’re up for the walk?” Tess asked, concerned about him. He was slightly pale and not completely steady on his feet.

  “I can do it.”

  They made their way back to the car. Tess couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was following them, but she chalked it up to paranoia when she couldn’t see a single car that matched the description of a black town car.

  Tess was able to get Caden and Isaiah into the Smithsonian with her badge and the three of them made their way to her office. Her boss had agreed to meet them there and take possession of the fan. While she didn’t give specifics, she did warn her boss that the fan was of great importance to the Trinity Masters, and that there was a possibility someone would try to get it. Her boss left, assuring them it would be locked up in the vault until the threat had passed.

  “What’s next?” Isaiah asked.

  Tess grinned sheepishly. “You guys up for meeting the parents?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was nearly midnight before they pulled into their hotel in Charlottesville. Isaiah had called ahead and booked them a suite at Keswick Hall. He’d stayed at the resort a couple of times during research trips to Monticello.

  It had been a very long day and, considering the sleepy expressions on Tess and Caden’s faces, a tiring one.

  The meeting with Tess’ parents and aunt Liz had gone splendidly. Isaiah had taken to her family immediately. They were quiet, intelligent, well-spoken people with generous natures. It was no wonder they’d raised such an amazing woman like Tess.

  Caden had been slower to warm up, his inability to trust people at face value rearing its head. However, by the time dessert had been served, he’d loosened up, talking about a tech start-up company Caden had invested in that Tess’ father had done some of the research on prior to development. A good two-thirds of the conversation flew over Isaiah’s head—math was not his strong suit—but it didn’t matter, as Tess’ mom and aunt Liz had a million and three questions about his books and writing career.

  Isaiah had called one of his connections at Monticello, the senior historian, Gail Miller, and arranged for the three of them to take an after-hours tour of the place tomorrow evening, which meant they could all sleep in tomorrow.

  Whic
h was a good thing, considering his plans for tonight.

  “I’m hitting that bed and not moving until noon,” Caden said wearily.

  Tess seconded that emotion. “Amen.”

  Isaiah didn’t reply. He agreed. They were all going to bed, but he didn’t intend to let either of them sleep for a while. Not yet.

  Caden lost no time pulling off his shirt and pants, drawing down the covers and climbing into bed. He propped himself up against the pillows, apparently expecting them to follow suit.

  Tess took a step toward the bed, but Isaiah caught her, wrapping his arm around her waist. Tess glanced over her shoulder at him, pleasantly surprised by his sudden hug. Her smile faded when she saw his expression.

  “Isaiah?” she asked, her voice drawing Caden’s attention to the two of them.

  “I think it’s time to discuss that little show you put on for us at the pub.” Isaiah knew he was throwing open the lid to Pandora’s box. He didn’t care. They’d let that whole episode slide by too easily.

  “It wasn’t a show.” Caden’s voice had deepened. Isaiah wondered if he was aware of it happening, if it was something he had learned to control and use, or if the sound was merely instinctual at this point.

  Tess tried to pull away from Isaiah, but he tightened his grip, wrapped his other arm around her, holding her to him and away from Caden.

  Caden’s eyes narrowed. “Come to bed.” Three words had never sounded more menacing. There was no denying what they were—a command.

  Isaiah didn’t take commands. Caden had felt the need to prove something to them in the pub and that was fine. They were all still essentially strangers. He respected Caden for taking the risk and showing them a part of himself that he feared they wouldn’t like.

  It was time Isaiah did the same. He loosened his grip, but didn’t release Tess. He tugged her silk blouse from her dress slacks, then started to unbutton it.

  Tess didn’t move. Hell, he wasn’t sure she was even breathing as she let him slowly undress her.

  Caden’s eyes followed the movement of his hands, his cock beginning to thicken. Whatever exhaustion his lovers had suffered from a few minutes earlier was clearly forgotten.

  Isaiah slid her blouse off, then added her bra to it on the floor.