Clean sheets.
It’s the little things, sometimes. Right now, with our lives a whirlwind, sometimes they’re the only pleasures we get.
But this is what we signed up for, so I can’t bitch too much.
Especially since it was what I wanted in the first place.
I finish pulling back the duvet cover, to the end of the bed, until it’s spilling off of it like a blue and white cotton waterfall.
I miss our bed in Tampa, the king-sized mattress we spent weeks shopping for, the three of us raising eyebrows when we’d all climb onto the floor models, giggling and laughing like little kids as we tested them out.
But how else were we to know if someone rolling over would make it dip? Or jostle someone? Sometimes, Carter has nightmares that only Owen can really soothe him through.
And that was before Owen’s first election. On a third-party ticket.
You can bet I playfully rub my father’s face in that.
Every damn chance I get.
He smiles and takes it, too, because it’s not bragging if you’ve actually done it. As Daddy always taught me, there’s only one winner, and it’s not second place.
I know he’s proud of me, proud of what we’ve done, and what we’re going to do next, even if he does hate Carter’s guts and wishes I’d married Owen.
I saw the pride in his gaze tonight. I did what he couldn’t do.
One last thing before I can really decide to call it quits, and then we can just be people, and that’s run for governor myself.
As exhausted as I am, it still takes me a little while to fall asleep. It’s weird being totally alone in bed, and I realize how much I don’t like that feeling.
But I do finally fall asleep. At some point, the feel of someone climbing under the covers with me awakens me. I don’t need to see him to know it’s Carter from the way he moves.
He spoons his body around mine and I wiggle against him, getting comfy.
“It’s only four,” he says, brushing his lips against my shoulder. “Go back to sleep, pet.”
“Is he okay?”
“He’ll be okay.” He nuzzles the back of my neck. “I gave him your kiss. And a little more.”
“Did you fuck him or blow him?”
I feel him smile against the nape of my neck. “Both. He was a good boy tonight. He earned it.”
“Yes, he did.”
I pull Carter’s arm more tightly around me, our hands pressed against my flat belly, and send up the closest thing I have to prayers that we get what we want and what Owen so desperately needs, because there’s only so much our love and our shared past can do to heal him.
Chapter Ten
Then
That first week of classes, Carter and I get very little time alone together.
Neither do Owen and I. That’s simply how this works—it’s the three of us. That’s not a complaint, though, because if I was ever forced to choose between the two men, there’s no way in hell I could.
Am I lusting after Carter in my fantasies when alone?
Absolutely. Especially because when we’re at my house in the evenings, every time Owen leaves the room, Carter’s either kissing me, or grinding against me, or shoving a hand between my legs to tease me, or shoving my hand between his legs to show me how hard—and hung—he is.
I love every second of it.
And the things he texts me are even filthier.
I lust after Owen, too, only for different reasons.
I would love to see the man naked on his knees for me, serving me, taking care of me.
Just like I’d love to be naked and kneeling in front of Carter and serving him.
Yes, I’d love to be wedged between them in bed. I know it would be hot, because it’s a fantasy that Carter relishes teasing me with, and promises me he can and will make happen.
As long as I follow his plan.
It’s filthy and selfish to wish for both of them, though, no matter what romance novels might insist.
Isn’t it?
Besides, the public face of Susannah Evans recoils in horror at the thought of getting on my knees for anyone, even though the part of me that’s been strong for as long as I can remember longs to let go and just be for once in my life.
With someone I trust.
I trust both men, but it’s Carter I’m quickly coming to trust in a different way, the way I damn well know Owen already trusts him. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like everything between Carter and I has to do with sexy teasing. The man’s wicked smart and quickly grasps even the most convoluted of political situations with a spooky and enviable ease.
I lust after the man’s brain as much as I do his cock.
And even with his scars, his body is hotter than hell. Maybe the scars make him even hotter, I don’t know.
But watching the way he can move, even just walking through a room, can make me weak.
Finally, the next Monday, Carter privately arranges for the two of us to meet for lunch at my house. I arrive first and leave the door unlocked for him. When I hear a noise, I turn, startled to find he’s standing right there behind me, not even feet away.
He shoves me against the wall and takes my mouth in a bruising kiss that leaves me whimpering and wet and ready to be fucked. I know I have a safeword with him—saying his full name, Carter Edward Wilson.
But I don’t want to say it.
I know if I don’t say it, he won’t stop until he’s ready to.
That was the deal.
A deal I really want.
A deal I need.
“Ask me like a good pet,” he mumbles against my lips.
“Please, Sir,” I beg.
We’ve already agreed to this in text, even though I didn’t know the specifics of when or how or what would happen.
I didn’t want to know.
That makes it even hotter.
He grabs me by the hair with one hand and forces me to my knees, another fantasy made real. With his other hand, he yanks open his shorts and shoves them down far enough he can pull his cock out. My first look at it up close and in person. He’s hard, ready, and even though I’ve already opened my mouth, he smacks my face with it, leaving a trail of pre-cum.
“Say it, pet.”
“I’m yours, Sir. I’m your toy and I belong to you. I promise to put Owen first, and follow your rules about this and him, and keep this a secret, for now.”
His positively evil smile makes me even wetter. “Good girl. Now beg for it.”
“Please give me your cock, Sir!”
He shoves in, hard, deep, choking me on his cock, to the point my eyes are watering and I’m struggling not to gag. Now he’s holding my head with both hands, fucking my face, nothing tender or loving about it.
God, he’s perfect.
When he comes, he holds still deep inside my mouth, forcing me to swallow every drop and christening me as His.
As he catches his breath he finally pulls out, rubbing his softening cock all over my face. The next thing he does shocks me.
He slowly lowers himself to the floor in front of me with a pained grunt, gently cradles my head in his hands, and tenderly kisses me all over my face, including along the tracks of my tears. As he does, he whispers over and over what a good girl I am for him.
I don’t even realize I’m really crying, at first. Not just eyes watering, but crying.
I am not a crier.
Not until he gathers me in his arms and gently rocks me do I realize I’m crying.
“Oh, my god,” I finally manage after about fifteen minutes.
He chuckles. “So how was that?”
I sit up, awestruck. I’m staring into his eyes. This was a test, and I knew it.
I nod. “More,” I beg. “Please?”
He tucks stray strands of hair behind my ears and seems to study my face for a long moment.
“Okay,” he simply says. “We’ll step things up. See how you handle it.”
But for today, for bei
ng a good girl for him, he cuddles me right there on the floor and fingers me until I come twice all over his hand. Then he makes me suck his fingers clean before he tenderly kisses me and calls me his good girl.
I want more.
I want it all.
I want him, and Owen.
Jesus, I’m so fucked.
* * * *
Carter has given me the most important rules—Owen always comes first, no lying to Carter, or cheating, obviously. Also, I don’t tell Owen things Carter hasn’t cleared me to tell him, including the things Carter and I are now doing to each other. And, of course, Carter’s in charge.
Duh.
But the rule I have to focus on first is that I’m not allowed to fall in love with Carter unless I can promise him I will marry him.
Not just marry him, but submit to him. And that I have to admit it to him immediately if I do fall in love with him.
Short of that, Carter has promised to do nearly any- and everything I want to try, as long as I promise to keep my heart on a short damn leash and under control.
That rule’s strict, but I’m cocky and think I know exactly what I’m doing and can handle this.
Carter has a long-range plan that I don’t know all the details of, but he told me it’s a two-part plan. The first part, which is actually the immediate goal, is him seducing Owen and collaring him. He wants to do that before the end of the semester. Carter has made no secret to me that he’s bi, and that he wants Owen to belong to him. It’s one of the things I had to accept and be okay with—which I am—for him to do anything else with me.
Only once that step is completed can he even begin plotting the second part, which is to get Owen, then me, elected governor.
What, exactly, our relationships are to each other when that happens remains to be seen. Because I’m not allowed to fall in love, and I’m damn sure not ready to get married yet.
Except…
It’s tough. Damned tough.
I’ve decided I won’t question Carter’s methods, unless I see him do something that I feel is not ultimately in Owen’s or my best interests. I understand he’s going to use some unconventional and even downright underhanded tactics on Owen. Without telling me everything, he’s indicated that Owen had a rough childhood, and one of the things Carter wants to do is get Owen away from the reach of his abusive mother and help rebuild his self-confidence and trust.
But in the process of doing that, Carter’s first going to have to break Owen down and take control of him from Owen’s mother. And Carter warned me it might look ugly and brutal in some aspects, but to keep the final goal in mind before I judge him.
I’m fine with that—helloooo, my father is king of the ratfucks and political machinations—as long as the goal is to help Owen, to love him and take care of him, not harm him.
Carter has sworn to me that he will never intentionally do anything to harm Owen, but that I have to trust him and follow his lead. Including playing dumb, sometimes.
Fortunately, I’m allowed to masturbate, because I would be an unholy bitch if I wasn’t. I know if I ever decide I want more with Carter, that would be taken off the table, which is another reason I’m trying to keep my heart corralled.
Carter’s not fucking me yet, but we’ve managed to do nearly everything but. He keeps me on my toes and we use a texting app that deletes our messages automatically to help prevent Owen from accidentally seeing anything.
Though as our friendship with Owen deepens, I can see why Carter is doing this. Especially the more I learn about Owen’s mother and the shit she put him through. Having two loving parents, and also being financially secure, I cannot fathom what Owen has endured.
Carter and I get to arguing about this in private one afternoon, when what I really wanted to do was suck his cock. We are both half-naked on my couch, and, in passing, I ask Carter to send me Owen’s car insurance information so I can pay it in advance for him as a surprise gift, giving him one less potential stressor.
Carter shuts me down.
I stare at him, still not believing he’s said no. “But why the hell not? Seriously, Carter, my trust probably earns that much a damn month in interest. I can afford it.”
His expression goes stony. “You agreed to follow my plan, and to not fuck my plan. You also agreed to let me be in charge. Are you backing out?”
It startles me how he can flash from the playful, sexy man he was mere breaths ago to this frigid chill. “Just tell me why,” I beg. “Please?”
He starts to carefully untangle his limbs from mine. “I’m sorry, Suse. I told you my rules. Either you trust me, or you don’t.” He stands and reaches for his T-shirt, where it’d landed on the floor.
Suse is his safeword for me, just like me using his full name is mine.
“Wait, please?”
He stops and looks at me.
I take a deep breath. “Okay, fine. I’m sorry.”
He studies me for a long time, to the point I’m not sure he’s staying.
“I mean it,” he finally says. “I have my reasons. Some of them are because Owen’s placed a trust in me and I can’t share the info with you yet. Some of them are my own that I’m not ready to share yet. Might never be able to share. I have to be in complete control of this, and of Owen. Period.”
“May I please ask for at least a hint of those reasons, then, Sir? Your reasons? Just a hint. Anything. Help me understand. Please?”
His expression gentles a little at my use of Sir. He sighs, then drops his T-shirt on the coffee table and returns to the couch. He sits, pulling me into his arms, but I can see he’s still trying to figure out how or what to say to me.
I wait him out.
Finally, he strokes my hair, plays with it. “I was barely your age. It’s about the woman I got the vasectomy for, shit that happened to me in Germany. I’m fucked up, Suse. As if you couldn’t tell already. I’m massively fucked up, forever, because of what she did to me. Think your darkest, most depraved fantasies, and then go deeper and darker. It made me who I am now.
“But they’re the cards I was dealt, and the hand I’ve got to play today. That’s why my most important rule is Owen comes first, then you, and me last. She always put herself first, even though she made others vulnerable to her and told them they could trust her. I might be a bastard, and evil, and twisted, but I would rather die than harm someone who’s put their trust in me.”
His brown gaze settles on mine. “That’s who I am,” he says. “That’s who I’m always going to be. An evil, fucked up bastard who can sometimes do good things. If you let me do what I need to do, you’ll have Owen to serve you and be your sweet, loving guy, and you’ll have me to be Sir when you need to let go, the bastard who will match you wherever you need to him to, and who will help you in your political career without a second thought as to what has to happen. You can have it all, both of us, but it means you have to take me the way I am now. That means accepting my rules and my control.”
Carter’s a hard person, a strong person, despite how he’s having to rebuild his body.
Even still, I hear whispers of terrified pleas in his words, in his heart.
Someone else might think this was bravado, or bullshit, or that I’d opened myself to a predator.
Uh, yeah, Carter’s a predator. It’s one of the things I love about him. I’m a predator, too, in my own way.
Like calls to like.
It makes me feel better to know I’m not the only fucked up person in the world.
I drape my arms around his neck and ruffle his hair. “Okay, Sir,” I say. “Your rules, your way. But please promise me one thing.”
“I’d need to hear it first.”
“If something happens with his mom, and Owen’s struggling, let me give you the money to take care of him. Please? Let me do this one thing for him. I wouldn’t offer if I couldn’t afford it. And I offer it with no strings attached.”
He sighs, some of the tension leaving his body before he finally no
ds. “Deal, pet. You have my word.”
I feel like I’ve won a huge victory. Not only is Carter trying to win Owen’s trust, I’m trying to win Carter’s.
To convince him that I’m not playing a game.
To get him to understand I don’t want to go anywhere.
Now all I have to do is keep my heart under control.
* * * *
We’ve known each other four weeks when Carter texts me on a Thursday morning. Owen’s freaked out because they have to go over to Orlando that Saturday for dinner at Owen’s mom’s house. Carter and I were supposed to get together today, but he wants to eat lunch with Owen instead.
Owen’s not handling this development well, and Carter wants to spend some additional time alone with him to ease him through it.
I understand and don’t begrudge it. I already know I’m not going to be allowed to go to Orlando with them, because Carter wants to control the situation as much as possible.
I still make the offer when they come over that night for dinner and to do their laundry.
While Owen’s a pretty emotional guy to start with, tonight he’s…well, he’s an absolute wreck. Carter and I exchange secret, knowing glances several times, and I understand now why Carter wants complete control over this situation and over Owen. I get it.
I feel protective of Owen now, too. I’d be too tempted to smack the woman, at least verbally, and possibly make the situation worse for Owen, both with her, as well as upset or stress Owen in the process.
When Saturday arrives, Carter updates me via text throughout the day, going silent during the ride over because he’s driving Owen’s car. I receive a quick update that they’ve arrived, and then…
The wait begins. I know not to text Carter while he’s there, unless I literally have an emergency I need to call 911 for, because he wants his entire focus on Owen tonight.
I consider it personal growth on my part that I’m glad he wants to focus on Owen, and I don’t take it personally.
I take it as further proof Carter is a man of his word, a man I can trust.
A couple of hours later, I receive a quick update.
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