“A twofer,” Liam quietly jokes.
“Yeah.” I walk over and take his hands in mine and hold them against my chest, the way he’s done to me countless times over the years.
And the most physical intimacy I’ve given him since the revelation that rocked my world. “I’d rather not have to resort to ratfucks if we can cleanly separate Ward from all of them through toughening him up. I’d rather not risk him, or you, or me that way. I’d like to save those dirty tricks for a last resort, if we even need them at all.
“But if we break out the big guns early on and the fucker slips free, that might mean more trouble for us further down the road. Plus, something like that could mean more press coverage later when we least want it focused on the three of us. He needs to be single and able to stand up to his father before we have any hope of taking things forward.”
He nods. “I know you’re right, but you’ve seen him now. You see how he is.”
“Yeah, I do.” I squeeze his hands. “And it’s one of the reasons why I didn’t walk out and divorce your dumb ass.” I let my words sink in for a moment. “If I didn’t think he was worth it—or that you’re worth it—I wouldn’t be here right now.”
“He loves you, D.” He slowly strokes my wedding band with his thumb. “He told me he’s in love with you.”
That shouldn’t shock me, but it does. Mostly because I know my feelings are heading that way, too.
But, kudos to Liam, he hasn’t once asked me about sex, or tried to hint, or…anything. I know he’s horny because I’ve seen him sporting wood in his sweats or briefs around the house, but he’s behaving himself.
“I told both of you I’m not discussing my emotions right now. We’re not even two weeks into this. I mean, I’m not. You two are miles ahead of me.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Stop with the apologies. I don’t want apologies. I want to see you two living up to your word and doing what I say. Remember, this is a marathon, not a sprint, and all that bullshit. You two have to trust that I know what I’m doing, and that I’m playing three-dimensional chess while you two dudes are barely managing to keep your heads above water playing checkers.”
Finally, that wins me a playful smirk. “I am the luckiest man on the face of the planet.”
“Because I didn’t immediately castrate both of you? Uh, yeah, you are.”
He laughs and kisses me. “I love you so much, Daniel. Thank you for giving him a chance, and for not killing me.”
“You thank me now, but you both owe me, big time.”
“Yeah, we absolutely do.”
We finish getting ready and call a ride-share to drive us to Ward’s house.
Having already seen it, I’m ready. I’m sure this will be an emotional gut-punch for Liam, though.
I fully expect to have to do psychological triage with Liam later tonight after he sees the signs of his boy having a life he had no part of laid out before him. All the daily detritus and pictures and having to sit at the table with a woman who might be married to Ward, but there’s one thing she hasn’t done and never will do with Ward that Liam and I both have.
We’ve fucked her husband.
We also now own his heart.
Despite what I said about not wanting to discuss my emotions, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit…yeah.
I wish I wasn’t, but I can’t help it—I’m falling for Ward.
Fell, actually.
Okay, I’m in love with the fucker. Happy?
When we arrive, it’s Ward who greets us at the front door. I don’t miss how he shakes my hand first and then waits for me to tip my head toward Liam so he can shake his hand. “Thanks for coming over tonight. Olivia will be right out.” His smile turns tight, tense.
I already hate her, and his nervous reaction means I hate her even more.
I’m also watching Liam as we are given a quick tour. I pretend I haven’t fucked him on their couch already, even though I spot the unasked questions in Liam’s eyes as he takes everything in.
Then, we pause in front of the wedding picture, because Liam stops walking as if he’s hit a wall.
I press a hand to the middle of his lower back. “It’s okay,” I murmur.
Since when did I become the consoler and chief to both of them?
Except then I flinch at the woman’s sharp, grating voice, like sheet metal ripping apart in a strong wind, not softened at all by her clipped Atlanta drawl. “Ward. Why didn’t you tell me they were here? I’m sorry, hey there. Olivia Madison Callahan.”
We both turn and I let Liam shake with her first, just for appearances. “Liam Davis-Walker. This is my husband, Daniel Walker-Davis.” I love him for not simplifying it.
She makes that Karen-wants-to-talk-to-your-manager face. “Well, is it Davis-Walker, or Walker-Davis?”
Liam’s thin smile doesn’t fool me in the slightest. He’s had two weeks of emotional upheaval, no sexual release, an angry husband, and he’s pissed off at himself for being stupid. Add to that he’s upset his boy is married to this woman.
She will get no pardon from him tonight.
“Yes,” he says. “We hyphenated each other’s names when we got married.”
“Well, wouldn’t it just be easier for y’all to have the same order?” Her laugh cracks like hot, brittle glass submerged in ice water. “I mean, that’s just confusing now, isn’t it?”
“We each had careers before we got married. Rather than change everything, we just hyphenated. It doesn’t have to make sense to you.”
Bam.
Moments like this, I remember why I love my husband.
One of those things I love about him is his takes-no-prisoners mode.
Apparently, she’s not used to being talked to like that. Behind her and out of her field of vision, Ward struggles not to laugh. “Well. I didn’t mean to strike a nerve.”
Liam’s smile is replaced by one he usually reserves only for opposing counsel or hostile witnesses he’s cross-examining. “You didn’t, bless your heart. You asked, I answered.”
Her smile grows uneasy and fades as she realizes she’s not going to be able to charm Liam, but Ward steps in. “Dinner’s ready, by the way.”
“Oh, good!” she says. “Let’s eat.”
It’s nearly midnight when we walk through our own front door later. To Liam’s credit, he waits until then to start in.
“That fucking cunt bitch,” he spits. “I wanted to reach out and choke her unconscious for being so hateful.”
She was pretty hateful, including a couple of comments I’m sure she thought would make her seem progressive, but the use of “you people” proved to me she was little more than bigoted trash.
I grab his tie and pull him in for a kiss. He’s so angry still that he actually tries to pull away for a second…until he realizes what I’m doing.
It’s the first kiss I’ve given him since the day of the revelation.
He starts to grab me then immediately eases up. “Baby,” he whispers against my lips.
I look up into his eyes. I love this idiot. With my anger finally fading into something completely different and unexpected for Ward, I can better manage my emotions around all of…this.
“Liam and Daniel tonight,” I tell him before he can swoop in for another kiss. “If you can keep it like that, I wouldn’t mind some make-up sex.”
Yeah, I know how to distract him. His gaze softens and he pulls me in for a tender kiss. “If you only want to cuddle, I under—”
“I’m telling you what I want.” But his response sealed it. I am an absolute slut for this man under normal circumstances. We’ve long had a running joke that I don’t need a safeword, because he could just nip my ear, or tweak my nipple, and have me begging for whatever it is he wants to do to me.
Later, after we’ve made love, my mind can’t help but start working on my latest fledgling plan.
How to best dig up whatever dirt I’m sure there is on Olivia so I can leverage it again
st her without causing any damage to Ward’s life.
Chapter Eleven
Over the next several weeks, the three of us settle into a sneaky, sexy routine.
But Ward still wears my day collar, and I still keep restrictions in place regarding both of their orgasms. As a month passes, then another, and Ward manages to drag Olivia with him to church every third or fourth time he attends with us, one thing becomes clear to me.
I’m still not sure what I’m going to do, or what the ultimate point of this is.
I mean, I know what the point of it is, but there’s no firmly defined…goalpost. Not beyond trying to free Ward from his wife and father. I’m used to seasons being dictated by polling numbers, and election days, and swearings in. Definite…targets.
This ongoing, perpetual charade cannot successfully exist long-term unless I figure out how to extricate Wade from his situation with minimal disturbance to all our lives.
And it’s obvious to me that Ward cannot maintain this nebulous situation without doing serious long-term damage to his psyche. He’s not merely a submissive—he’s a slave at heart, and he needs a loving, full-time Sir or Master to help balance his life. Being a state-level politician is far different than being on the national stage in DC.
It’s also true that I cannot maintain my current nebulous situation with Liam without it eventually biting me on the ass in bad ways emotionally. Yet, I’m not able to release Ward to Liam’s full control, and I still cannot make myself once again take a knee to Liam.
I can’t keep a pet senator.
What do you even feed those things?
I mean, you’d think I’d have a handle on it after almost fifteen years with Liam, but that’s different.
I belong to Him.
Ward now belongs to me. More with every passing week.
I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. I don’t think I quite knew what I was demanding when I came up with this idea, but chalk it up to seemed like a great idea at the time.
Now?
Ward needs me and Liam in ways I honestly wasn’t prepared for. No, I can’t and won’t abandon him. Not just because Liam loves him, and he loves Liam, but because I know Ward now loves me, too.
I don’t want to openly declare my love for Ward until I’m certain this can last for the rest of our lives. There’s a few tiny problems with that, including Olivia.
Man, that woman is horrible. Now that I’ve met her, I feel even more sorry for Ward.
Or, maybe it should be his just desserts for the way he abandoned Liam, but I wouldn’t have Liam if he hadn’t been abandoned.
And I wouldn’t have Ward now, either.
And…
It’s a kinky ouroboros.
Where does it end?
I don’t know. I only know where it started and pray it doesn’t consume all three of us before we learn how to master this crazy roller coaster as we move forward.
I cannot believe those two dumbasses put all of us at so much risk, either. It means I’ll continue keeping them under tight rein until I’m positive I can trust them to behave.
And so, more months pass, with us sneaking encounters here and there, several times a week.
Yes, sometimes in the hideaway, but only when I say it’s safe and I’m there to oversee things. Mostly at our house, though, because that’s safest.
Liam and I return to something passing for a normal sex life between us, but as husbands, not as Master and slave.
One time, Liam accidentally slipped and went into Master mode with me and it yanked me out of my sexy headspace so hard I panicked and spent the night on the couch despite Liam apologizing and begging me to take the bed and he’d take the couch.
I know it wasn’t intentional. He’s gone out of his way to do everything I’ve asked of him. Him and Ward, both.
It was me. It was remembering Mom’s crestfallen expression every time Dad would slam the front door behind him as he left for who knew how long. It was remembering the pain I felt discovering I’d been cheated on by the first guy I fell in love with right after college.
It was the memory of my heart hammering in my chest as I unlocked Liam’s old phone and started reading.
It’s a me problem, at this point, and I know it.
I do let Liam and Ward have sex, sometimes with me, sometimes without, and there is even one memorable night where the stars aligned, Olivia was out of town for two days, and we were able to let Ward spend a whole night with us.
I also let Liam unleash his sadistic side on the boy, usually while I either sit and watch, or while I hold Ward and comfort him as Liam spanks or pummels him.
And during those times I silently envy Ward, even as my soul tells me I am not yet ready to return to full submission yet.
In the eight months since this madness truly started, I’m realizing that, yes, I am enjoying owning Ward. Not just because he feeds me vital information I can use professionally.
That’s a part of our relationship Liam doesn’t and cannot know about. I’m certain he would protest if he did. That info stream, however, helps me in a multitude of ways that makes my job infinitely easier and provides me vital leverage I can judiciously apply to bend previously recalcitrant lawmakers and lobbyists and other political wonks to my will.
I’m also enjoying owning Ward…because I’m in love with him.
Technically, I’m not sharing Liam with him yet. It’s more correct to say that I’m sharing Ward with Liam. Just because I let them do things together doesn’t mean Liam’s in control of them. Everything that happens in person between them is either directed by or approved of by me first.
Even spot-checking their text conversations on either end reveals no discrepancies. I have full access to their phones. They know every text and e-mail they write can be read by me.
Every time I examine the possibility of easing up and returning Ward’s ownership to Liam, and thus allowing Liam to truly own me once more, a nasty little ball of acid-green jealousy rears up inside me.
At first, I thought it was because I didn’t want to give Liam unlimited access to Ward and lose that control over both of them.
The more I thought about it, though, I realized the opposite is true—I don’t want Ward to have unlimited access to Liam.
I want to keep Ward for myself, though, not keep him away from Liam.
The boy is mine and I’d be lying if I said I want to let go of that control now that I have it. Ward still wears my day collar on his wrist and Liam’s not allowed to remove it unless it is a legit emergency. I told both of them when I present Ward with a day collar I buy for him, then we can move that bracelet back to my wrist, because I’d be ready to once again submit to Liam.
Thus, I stall. For now.
When I undertook this insanity, it was supposed to be teaching them both a lesson and getting our freak on. I never dreamed I’d get to know Ward on such a deeply intimate level this quickly.
Or fall as hard for him as I have.
It’s now damned easy for me to understand why Liam fell so hard for Ward and could never get him out of his heart, even after Ward ghosted him.
Ward bears a fragile vulnerability that silently begs for protection from the cruel world. There’s a breathtaking purity to his submission, how he can completely surrender, even when he doesn’t want to do a particular act. He is happy simply by pleasing me, and I take every opportunity to lavish him with praise.
Ward absolutely isn’t a politician at heart. Not really.
I’ve also been quietly looking into his father and the man’s associates, and…yeah. There are some pretty rough individuals sharing the same circles with Mason Rutherford Callahan. They’re asshole-deep in each other’s holdings all over the world, and I suspect quite a bit of back-room political fuckery also happens here and abroad.
Especially considering how many of them are closely associated with people in The Family.
Part of my hesitation is that I’m still in research mode. Hasty ac
tions without proper planning can epically backfire in very bad ways. Meaning I’m constantly playing a long-game in my head. It’s a rotating mix of strictly work, work-adjacent projects…
And people I’ve made my hobby because they’ve run afoul of me in some way.
Ward is the first person who I’ve made my hobby but who I’m also personally vested in the way I currently am. Someone who is now my hobby because…
Well, because I love him.
Usually, when someone becomes my hobby it’s because they’ve done something to Liam—intentionally or not—that’s pissed him off or in some way made his life difficult. Or someone who’s made my job harder because they’re opposing my congressman.
So I make their life difficult. It’s always proportional, though. I don’t toss nukes over a parking violation, that kind of proportional.
Sometimes, my retribution comes in minor, irritating ways. A car gets towed—repeatedly—or the target is suddenly inundated with subscriptions to magazines of questionable content.
At work. Or at their parents’ house.
Or, in one notable occasion, at the guy’s church, because he was one of their trustees and had a desk in the office there.
Little things like that.
Sometimes, I make the subject’s life difficult by absolutely blowing it out of the water in ways that cannot be swept under the rug. I’ve done that a few times. Those times don’t always make the news, or even the gossip circles.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t manufacture the crises that rip their world from its moorings and cast them adrift. I don’t apply false evidence and frame them. I simply utilize the existing fractures they’ve already created all on their own and leverage them to my advantage in a multitude of creatively fun ways.
Hence why I said I am a great believer in the power of information over titles and offices.
Like the congressman from Idaho who’s now sitting in a federal prison for possession of child porn and soliciting a minor for sex. I didn’t plant the evidence on his computer, or participate in the sting that brought him down. I simply kept my ear to the ground and stored away all the years of rumors of him liking his girls very young over his thirty-year career.
Profane (Devout Trilogy Book 2) Page 9