She's All That: Club 3, Book 3

by Cathryn Cade

  At least she had a home to come and lick her wounds. Trace didn’t. And Kai only had a rented condo. And didn’t it just suck that she was feeling sorry for both of them when she was the one who’d been wronged, and that she couldn’t get the image of them together out of her head?

  She wondered what Trace was doing, and if he was okay or if he was suffering too, and then she remembered he’d cheated on her, and took another sip of sweet, tart wine. When she licked the drops from her lips, they tasted salty.

  “Oh, Trace,” she whispered. “Why did you have to be another cheating asshole?”

  Except she’d known going in that he wasn’t the normal kind of man, and she’d fallen for him anyway. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t known he was a dom, and active at Club 3. She’d just thought she would be enough for him.

  She’d been raised in an alternative home, but even though she’d done her best to become a model adult, living in a condo and teaching for a living, she’d ended up back where she’d started in a way—in an unconventional relationship with an unconventional man.

  How did she find her way back onto the straight and narrow from here? And did she even want to?

  Trace zipped his black leather pants with short, jerky movements. Shit, he’d ruined everything because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. It was just that Kai had caught him by surprise, like the ghost of romance past. He’d been so…angry, and then it had all morphed into heat and need.

  And now he was so confused.

  Twyla appeared in the door Sara had just dashed out of, frowning in concern. Her sharp gaze took in Trace straightening his black silk T-shirt, and Kai, sitting on a chair, head in his hands. She frowned, her brows slashes on her pale face. Like maybe she’d stirred shit just for the hell of it and now realized what she’d done. Not that he could blame her—he was an adult. At least most of the time.

  “Ah, just thought you should know,” she said quietly. “Sara just sprinted out of here like the demons of hell were after her.”

  “My fault,” Trace said through his teeth. “Thanks. Can you—give us a minute here?”

  “No.” Kai was on his feet, his face pale underneath his golden tan. “I’ll leave. I’m—I’m sorry, Trace. So sorry. I didn’t know Sara was— Shit.”

  He bolted out of the office like the athlete he was. Twyla barely had time to step aside, swaying back with one arm on the doorknob, the other arm in the air.

  “Fucking hell,” Trace swore. “Twyla, out of the way, please.”

  The domme ducked back again, and Trace twisted past her. The lobby was empty except for Steve, the new part-time receptionist, who gazed from Trace to the outside door and back, eyes wide and perplexed.

  “She went that-a-way,” he said, stretching out a slender arm. “And so did he. Um, is there a fire or something that I should know about? Do we need to evacuate the building?”

  “No,” Trace snarled. “Just stay at your desk.”

  Steve’s eyes widened. “Yes, sir, master dom.”

  Trace flung open the door, narrowly missing a couple of regulars on the veranda, the man with his arm outstretched to grab the door, the woman thankfully behind him, not in Trace’s path.

  “Sorry.” Trace dashed down the steps into the twilight parking lot and scanned. He saw a dark head bobbing past the bed of a Toyota pickup truck. “Kai,” he roared. “Stop right there.”

  When he reached Kai, the smaller man simply stood, back to Trace, one hand on the door of the truck.

  “So that’s it?” Trace demanded. “You were just going to run? Just like always?”

  Kai turned on him, and Trace’s gut twisted when he saw the tears in his dark eyes, the grief that twisted his beautiful mouth.

  “I shouldn’t have come,” Kai said. “I just—I thought maybe we could—but instead I ruined things with you and Sara. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Trace let out a hard breath. Then he slowly lifted one hand and cupped it around the back of Kai’s neck. He felt so good, the sturdy heft of his neck, the coarse silk of his hair. And he smelled so good, that faint shampoo and aftershave and warm-skin smell. He smelled like furtive, quick encounters in a dorm room with the covers shoved in Kai’s mouth to muffle his cries and Trace’s jaw clenched to swallow his own, like husky laughter as they lay, entwined in the aftermath. Like old love.

  “I didn’t have to stick my dick in your mouth,” he said quietly. “It wasn’t your fault, Kai. This one’s all on me.”

  Kai huffed a humorless laugh. “I always did have shit timing.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” Trace tightened his grip. Their gazes met, clung, heated with memories both long ago and very recent. “You’ve gotten…a lot better.”

  Kai’s lips parted. “You tasted just as good as I remembered. No, also better.”

  Trace shuddered with remembered pleasure. He forced himself to let go of Kai’s neck and step back. “Listen, give me your cell number. We need to talk—really talk.”

  “Are you sure?” Kai asked. “Sara…”

  “Sara,” Trace said. “Yeah, she’s my new sub.”

  “Your sub,” Kai breathed. “Because you’re a dom now.”

  Trace nodded, head high. Kai smiled, a secret smile that curled his lips and shadowed his eyes, but his voice was respectful when he asked, “You have feelings for her?”

  “I do.” But I have feelings for you too, Trace said silently, gazing into Kai’s dark eyes. And now I’m conflicted as hell. “How do you know her anyway?”

  Kai grimaced. “I sublet the condo next door to hers for the summer. We’ve been getting to know each other.” When his gaze skittered away, something pinged Trace’s awareness.

  “Getting to know—” he prodded.

  “Friends, that’s all,” Kai said, but color surged under his cheekbones, dark enough Trace could see it even in the streetlights.

  “You like her,” Trace realized aloud. “Really like her.”

  Kai nodded. “She’s awesome. I don’t wanna hurt her. I hate that I did.”

  “No, I have,” Trace insisted. “Not your fault, ipo.”

  The Hawaiian endearment sprang automatically to his tongue. Kai’s gaze heated as they remembered hot nights and whispered words. They’d always been able to communicate without words too, as they were now. He was shocked at how sweet it was that it was still there.

  He forced his attention back to the present. He had a club to run and a woman to track.

  He keyed in Kai’s number and then pressed it. As soon as Kai’s phone rang, Trace disconnected the call.

  He took another step back, holding Kai’s gaze. “Call me,” he repeated. “Tomorrow at the latest.”

  “I will.” Kai gave him a smile, this one more real. “Now get in your club before I jump you again. Hanging by a thread here.”

  Trace snorted. He knew the feeling.

  With one last look, Trace turned and walked back across the small parking lot and into his club. Everything in him yearned to sweep Kai into his own car and drive off into the night to gather Sara up as well. And force them to stay with him until they figured this thing out.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Daise, can you come in here?”

  Daisy looked up from her laptop, where she’d been checking her e-mail, answering a few but mostly deleting junk. No, she did not need a penis enhancer, thank you. Nor did Dack, thank you Jesus.

  Sunday morning, and she sat at her desk in their home office. It was also a storage room for odds and ends, so right beside her desk stood a red Styrofoam muscle roller. She didn’t plan to be in here long, as it was a gorgeous sunny morning, and she and Dack planned to head down to the Willamette River park to walk, stopping at one of the cafés for lunch.

  Now she rose and walked into the kitchen of the condo she shared with Dack. He stood, hands braced on the big island, while Jake perched on one of the tall stools, arms crossed on the counter before him. Neither of them was smiling.

  “What�
�s going on?” she asked, instantly alarmed. “Is everyone okay?”

  “C’mere, Petal,” Dack said.

  She went to him, wrapping her arms around one of his, and waited.

  “You may as well hear this now,” he said, his gaze grave. “’Cause it affects your girl. You know Sara is with Trace?”

  She nodded. “But everything’s going great… I thought.” The hair stood up on the back of her neck, and she glanced over at Jake, who looked pissed. But then, Jake looked pissed a lot.

  “Was, till yesterday evening,” Dack said. “Then Trace had a visitor. An old, uh, lover. Who was all over him when Sara walked in.”

  “Ow,” she muttered reflexively. “Poor Sara. But there’s more to it than that, or you wouldn’t be so serious. Tell me all of it, Dack.”

  Dack gave Jake a look that Daisy could’ve sworn held pleading, except her dom didn’t do pleading. What the heck?

  “Daisy, the old lover is a guy,” Jake said.

  She froze, then turned her head just enough to stare at him. He moved his head, acknowledging that yes, she’d heard him correctly. And that this information was not a surprise to him, which meant it was not a surprise to Dack either.

  “Trace is…bi?” she whispered. She held on to Dack’s muscular arm more tightly. “And you knew this. But Sara doesn’t know this.” Her heart rate ramped up with anxiety for her friend.

  “She does now,” Dack said. “And she found out the hard way. He should’ve—well, that’s neither here nor there. Now she knows, and since she didn’t call you or Carlie, and she’s not home, I’m a little worried. Where do you think she might be?”

  “Her mom’s place,” Daisy said. “Sadie lives out in Forest Grove. I’m going to go call her. Dack, this is so awful. We just had supper, and she was telling us about being with Trace. She was so…hopeful, like she didn’t quite dare to be happy yet, you know? And now this.”

  Dack leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I know, baby. But just remember, Trace didn’t plan this shit, and he’s hurting too. He’s into Sara, and I mean that.”

  His insistence sent a thrill of alarm through her. “Dack, just what did she see?”

  He winced.

  “She saw Kai sucking Trace off in the club office,” Jake said.

  Daisy gasped. “Oh my God.” That was about as bad as it could get.

  “Daise, Trace was—fuck, feel like I’m gossiping. He was into this guy, a lot, back when they were in college. Then Kai’s family pressured him, and he ran, which broke Trace’s heart. When I met Trace, he was partying a lot, living a life that said he didn’t give a shit.”

  “He’s not like that now,” she noted. “He’s so focused and successful.”

  “Yeah, well, you can thank Jake for that,” Dack said. “The Sergeant straightened him the fuck out.”

  Jake snorted. “He was ready. He’s a good man. And I’m done gutting his secrets.” He gave Daisy a look. “Carlie knows this shit too, so you and she can put your heads together. She had to go to church with her folks this morning, something about checking out the church where her brother’s getting married.”

  Daisy smiled at him, her cheek on Dack’s arm. Despite all this turmoil, he deserved his moment. “Speaking of weddings, congratulations, Jake. Carlie shared that you, um, popped the question.”

  For the first time, he looked pleased. “Yup. She’s mine now. Those other dumbasses let her slip away. I won’t.”

  Daisy giggled quietly, because Carlie had been dead-on with her imitation of her fiancé’s gruff manner. Dack moved, freeing his arm to slide it around her and pull her close.

  Jake tapped the countertop and then slid off his stool. “All right, I gotta get goin’. You two enjoy your day.”

  “Later,” Dack said.

  “Bye, Jake,” Daisy called.

  When the door closed behind Jake, Daisy started to pull away from Dack, but he held her there. She looked up to find an extra sweetness in his gaze.

  “Change of plan,” he said. “We’ll go for our walk, but then how about we go out to dinner, someplace nice?”

  “Sure,” she said. A dinner date with her handsome man sounded great. “I need to call Sara first, though. And I may need to go over to her place. She must be devastated.”

  He nodded. “I figured. All right, gimme a kiss and then go call her.”

  She lifted up on her tiptoes and received a sweet, hot kiss that made her forget she had other things she needed to do. Dack liked this, as he smiled when she grabbed the back of his neck to haul him down for more. But after a long moment, he patted her bottom. “Go call,” he murmured against her lips.

  “Okay.” He was always looking out not only for her but for their friends.

  She wished Trace was as thoughtful. What the hell, how could she and Sara have been so mistaken about him? She understood that some people were drawn to both sexes, and that was fine with her. As long as they were honest about it and didn’t blindside someone she loved.

  How could he cheat on Sara, of all people?

  Sara felt as if someone was trying to drive a steel spike into her forehead, the pain throbbing with each beat of her pulse. She moaned and flopped over onto her back to bring her hands up, clutching her head.

  “Here, baby girl,” her mother’s cheerful voice said. “Brought you a smoothie with extra B-vitamins. Sit up here and sip on it.”

  Wrenching her eyes open, Sara pushed herself up on her elbows and allowed her mother to stuff extra pillows behind her. Then she accepted the tall glass from her mother, wincing when she saw the cartoon logo on the side. “Wonder Woman?” she croaked. “Really, Mom?”

  Sadie smiled, her face creasing in familiar lines under her silver hair. “Thought she might be of some assistance to you.”

  “Some painkillers would be more helpful.” Sara sipped cautiously. Banana, peach and the blandness of protein powder. She swallowed and waited to see if the fluid stayed down. When it did, she drank some more.

  “You know I don’t believe in drugs,” her mother said. “I did include some willow bark extract, though.”

  That sounded promising. Native Americans had used it for its aspirin-like qualities. “Thanks, Mom.”

  Sadie fussed quietly around the room while Sara drank her smoothie, picking up her discarded bustier and skirt and laying them on the small dresser in the corner. Then she gave Sara a sidelong look, saw that her glass was empty and took it away.

  “You have a visitor.”

  Sara sat up, groaning as the motion sent pain shooting through her head. She needed a long, hot shower. She hoped Sadie’s aging water heater would be up to the task.

  “What? Who?”

  Her mother put up a hand to cover the smile that curved up her mouth. “Um, he says his name is Trace.”

  Sara gaped at her, emitting a panicked squeak. “No. No, I don’t want to…see him.” Her words ended on a whisper as the man in question appeared in the narrow doorway to the tiny bedroom.

  “I’ll just leave you two to talk,” Sadie said softly. She slipped past Trace, and Sara was certain she saw her mother pat his arm. Her mother was such a sucker for a sob story, but this time, she was supposed to be on her daughter’s side.

  She glared at Trace, clutching the covers against her chest as if she could cover up the hurt that slammed into her at the sight of him. He was freshly showered, wearing one of his signature golf shirts, this one pale green. His hands were shoved in the pockets of gray shorts. He was tanned, freshly shaven, but he looked awful, his eyes haunted, with dark circles under them as if he hadn’t slept.

  She no doubt looked far worse. Ugh, she’d gone to sleep with eye makeup on, and that was after crying half the night. Forget the fox he’d compared her with; right now she probably looked like a crazed raccoon.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded. “You should have called to see if…if I even wanted to speak to you.”

  He smiled crookedly. “Figured you’d say no. And I
wouldn’t blame you, except I have something to say.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you’re sorry,” she muttered. “And it’ll never happen again, blah, blah, blah. You can go now.”

  Instead, her heart thumped as he walked into the room, closed the door behind him—or tried. It hadn’t hung straight for years and stuck partway shut. Then he walked the three steps to the twin bed and sat on the edge, his thigh pressed against hers, although separated by the covers.

  He braced his hand on the other side of her legs and looked at her. Sara caught her breath at the torment in his gaze.

  “No. That’s not it. I’m bisexual, and I should have told you that before we got involved. I’m sorry for that, more than you can know, honey.”

  “Me too,” she whispered. “Okay, now you can go.” Even though part of her wanted to throw herself into his arms and beg him not to leave her. She squeezed her eyes shut. What the heck was wrong with her?

  “Sorry I’m bi?” He sounded wary, as if he was waiting for her to slash at him.

  “No,” she said. “That’s part of who you are, so fine. But I wish you had been honest with me. It wasn’t very much fun finding out…like that.” And with Kai, of all people. She kept her eyes closed.

  His hand settled on her thigh and squeezed gently. “Not leaving yet, Red. I have more to say, and it’s pretty important, so if you could look at me, I’d appreciate it.”

  Her gaze met his warily. He didn’t look guilty and ashamed, or angry at her for forcing him to face what he’d done, which was how Jason had looked at her when she confronted him with his serial infidelity.

  Trace looked determined. And focused—on her, not himself. That look that melted her insides as always.

  “I didn’t plan what happened, didn’t even know Kai was in town or on the mainland. I would never have subjected you to a surprise like that.

  “I was just…blindsided by someone I was once crazy in love with. My body took over. I didn’t like that feeling, don’t ever want to feel it again. But Kai didn’t do it to be cruel or for anyone else to see. He feels terrible that he hurt you and me with his behavior.