“Do you think you were?”
No. But Hanna’s desires weren’t the issue here. Brady’s were.
“If I wasn’t, and Hanna is a switch, and is into this, what would you think?”
Brady shifted beside her. “If I said yes, what would you want?”
“Specifically?”
He nodded. What did she want?
“I want both of you touching me. Having both your pleasure at my domain.” Her breathing went fast. She swallowed. “I’d want your praise. Your admiration. Your worship.”
Brady’s cheeks went pink. And his breathing had sped up, too. He seemed as into this as she was, but they were getting ahead of themselves.
“Let’s not get carried away with details,” Sam said. “I still haven’t talked to Hanna.”
Or thought out the implications. Sleeping with someone from work was not a good idea. That shit never stayed private. The too-close-for-comfort aspect was why she’d opted out in Washington. But it was too late now. Even if she and Brady hadn’t talked, she and Hanna couldn’t ignore what happened.
“Can we table this?” she asked. It was all feeling too crazy, too out of control.
“Sure.”
Sam smiled and sat up. “Come on.”
He got up without a word and followed her into the bathroom. Turning on the shower, she pulled him inside, rinsed them both off until their fingers went pruney and the water had run cold. When they were both clean, dry and in pajamas, she dug fresh sheets out of the linen closet. He helped her strip the soaked ones off the bed and remake it, then they crawled under the covers.
“Love you,” she said again quietly. He tightened his arms around her.
Breathing in his scent, Sam drifted off to sleep.
23
At work on Monday, Sam was struggling to focus—half because she was on edge waiting to talk to Hanna. The rest was the fact that her clothes weren’t fitting. A month out of her workout routine and her body was already rebelling.
She’d hoped to get to the gym but spent the rest of the weekend triple-checking Hope for signs of a concussion, and then spoiling both her daughters with a trip to the mall.
Because shopping was a great way to apologize for being a shit mother.
Maybe a shit daughter, too, since she hadn’t gotten over to her parents’ place. Then again, they were leaving soon and had hired a professional move management service to help organize their stuff. Not being needed saddened her almost as much as their impending move, but their absence would open her world a bit more, make time for things like her own groceries, which she hadn’t had time to get to either. She’d have asked Brady, but he’d always buy the wrong thing or spend half the time calling to ask what brand of toilet paper or cheese or tuna she wanted, so they’d gotten takeout. Again. She could almost feel the grease coming out of her pores.
Fussing with the waistband on her skirt until she was comfortable, Sam forced herself to concentrate. She’d closed out several months of the Choate file bills, checking the statements in the digital file against the trust’s online bank account. Mildred had no children, and trusted Pierce with every cent of her fortune—a large amount that would go to a few charities after she passed. Right now it was going toward paying her homecare providers, as well as her medical, electric and cable bills, all of which checked out. But Sam kept finding those extra checks, made out to cash and signed by Pierce. She could view images of checks for the last three years online, and the amounts on each one kept getting bigger.
Was Pierce skimming a bit off the top? He seemed slimy, but was it enough to do something like that? And if he was committing a crime, why would he ask Sam to double-check things? That didn’t make any sense.
When lunchtime came, Sam grabbed her purse and light spring jacket and swung by Lilly’s office. The young blonde’s desk was covered in paperwork.
Sam knocked once on the open door. “Bad time?”
“Define bad.”
“Bad as in you’re drowning in work?”
“Then definitely bad. But I like it. What’s up?”
Sam closed the door behind her. “Total hypothetical, but if someone were stealing from one of the firm’s clients, what would happen?”
Lilly’s eyes went the size of saucers. “Unless we’re talking stealing paper clips, they’d probably get arrested.”
Sam didn’t like the feeling in her gut. It was the same hunch she’d had when she’d worked for Dawes and had figured out the shady dealings of that donor. “And how would someone go about proving that? Hypothetically, of course.”
“Well.” Lilly dragged out the word, like she wasn’t sure this was hypothetical at all. “Someone should be one hundred percent sure they’re right first. And then talk to HR or the managing partners.” Lilly frowned. “Am I missing something, or has working here made you start watching those legal dramas on cable?”
Sam smiled. “You caught me. I’m an addict.”
“Those shows will make you paranoid.”
“I know. I’ll let you get back to work.”
Sam closed Lilly’s door behind her. She wasn’t one hundred percent sure, and it wasn’t a fair judgment call. Pierce might’ve been slimy, but that didn’t mean he was extorting an old lady. She’d ask Hanna, but he’d specifically asked Sam not to talk about the project, and things with her were already dicey.
She had a feeling her friend was trying to avoid her.
Hanna was here today—Sam had seen her line light up on the switchboard, but they hadn’t spoken or passed in the hallway.
Time to change that.
She walked around the office until she found Hanna by the copier. Her hair loose and curly, her lips a taupe color that matched her dress, she was talking to another secretary and laughing. The sight caused a spark of something Sam hadn’t expected. Not jealousy. More like annoyance at being avoided. But if she’d figured this situation right, there was one surefire way to get Hanna’s attention.
“Hannaleen.”
Hanna froze and looked up. Sam smiled sweetly. Yup, that worked.
“Grab a cup of coffee with me?”
Hanna’s mouth opened and closed, and she blinked, like she had at the club. A flare went off in Sam’s gut—enjoyment at having gotten Hanna flustered again.
“Coffee sounds great,” Hanna said. “Let me get my coat.”
“Great, I’ll meet you out front.”
When Hanna joined Sam on the steps outside, her friend’s gaze quickly dropped. There was a buzzing tension between the two of them.
“Let’s find someplace to talk.”
Sam led the way this time, heading around the green surrounding the Old State House, The Boston Massacre site she’d taken the girls to once to learn their history. Nothing had bloomed yet, but at least most of the snow had melted, the air filled with that crisp, clean scent of early spring. When they reached a little coffeehouse, Sam grabbed herself a muffin—bran, ’cause hey, at least she’d get some fiber this way—and found a table by the window.
Sam peeled the wrapper off the muffin. “Are we going to talk about it?”
“I guess it wouldn’t work if I said talk about what.”
“No. It wouldn’t.”
“Didn’t think so.” Hanna was quiet for a long moment. “I didn’t expect to see you on Friday. It caught me off guard.”
“And why is that?”
“I’m a Domme like I told you. And I’m bi. Well, I guess I’m more a chameleon. My inclination shifts depending on what gender I’m with. I bottom for women, top for men. With guys I’m less docile, more pushy. It’s the real reason why Wash left, I think—he liked that I was into girls, but not so much when I took charge of him.”
“And what does that have to do with me?”
Hanna clasped her hands together and twisted her thumbs, one over the other. A nervous habit, like Brady with his wedding ring, or Sam’s tendency to reach for her necklace. “I’m attracted to you.”
It wasn’t g
ood to be this turned on in public. Sam ate her muffin. Oh, the irony.
“But, you’re married, and we’re friends. There’s zero chance of anything happening, so on Friday I was out hoping to scratch the itch with somebody else. And then there you were, in that outfit I helped you find. Kinda fucked up my night.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. How could you have known?”
They didn’t speak for a full minute. All around them, the city spun, people walking, cars and taxis chasing through town like normal, like nothing was different, like Sam’s life wasn’t about to change. She was on a precipice, her life hanging in the balance between what she’d lived and what she wanted to live.
“I wouldn’t say there’s zero chance,” Sam said.
Hanna’s head turned so quickly in Sam’s direction her curls bounced. “What does that mean?”
“It means you’re not the only one feeling the attraction here.”
Hanna blinked again. Several times. “So, you’re bi, too?”
Sam wasn’t sure what she was. How could she be, without ever trying anything? “I guess I’m more curious.”
“About what?”
Time to put her cards on the table. “Having a threesome. Thought about it a lot more since Friday night.”
“Does your husband know?” Hanna asked.
“About me being curious, or what happened with us?”
“Either. Both.”
“Yes. To both.”
“Damn, girl. That kind of honesty takes balls.” Hanna crossed her arms on the table. “So, what does this mean?”
This conversation was like crossing a minefield. “I don’t know. We work together. People gossip. I mean, this could be number one on the firm’s ‘do not attempt at home’ list on the sexual-harassment policy.”
Hanna laughed. “Seriously. Reg would have a field day if he found out. Or ask for pictures.”
“Right. This is dangerous.” And Sam did not want Gabe or Lilly finding out.
“I get it, but I’m very private. No one at work knows about my sex life.” Hanna paused. “Except you.”
“No one but my husband knows about my sex life. Aside from you,” Sam said. “But why did you tell me about it when we were shopping?”
“I guess you felt like a kindred spirit. Like we had something in common.”
Sam had certainly felt that all along.
“I think we can trust each other,” Hanna continued. “You already know how much I spend on concealer. That’s an epic amount of trust.”
Sam did not, in fact, know how much she’d spent, but she laughed at the joke.
“I have a feeling your skin is beautiful, even without expensive makeup,” she said, and a lovely rose color appeared on Hanna’s cheeks. “But what could happen if things went badly? If feelings got hurt?”
“Don’t worry about that. I don’t get my emotions involved. That’s why I said what I did about my relationship status.”
“What do you mean?”
Hanna pointed at herself. “Biracial, queer, immigrant, kinky, single mom? Couldn’t get more complicated. But all my energy goes into my girls. I need to get mine when I go out, but when I’m home, my life belongs to them.”
Now it was Sam’s turn to be caught off guard. She’d been bitter about her role, and here Hanna was, living the kind of life Sam had wanted and still managing to put her family first.
“I respect the hell out of you, you know?”
“The feeling is mutual,” Hanna said. “Listen, I’m not looking for love, or to ruin anyone’s marriage, but I’d love to be the first woman you’re with, if there’s room in your bed for me.”
Sam’s body tingled, from her chest to her clit. “We have a very large bed,” she said. “I think we could make room.”
That coy smile returned to Hanna’s face. It was incredible, how she could shift gears like that. “I think we should all meet, first. The three of us.”
They were doing this. Holy shit, they were doing this.
“Okay. I’ll have to check with Brady.” She checked the time. “Shit, I’ve gotta get back.”
“Same here. Reg is breaking my balls today.”
They stood and walked the few blocks back to the office.
“Let me know when you guys are ready to meet up,” Hanna said.
Sam was already planning, eager to get home to Brady. This was going to be incredible. Or the biggest mistake of her life.
“I will.”
24
Brady drove to his in-laws’ apartment with his stomach in knots.
His in-laws’ soon-to-be ex-apartment, actually. Sam’s parents were moving in less than a day. It was weird to think he wouldn’t come here anymore—he’d gone this way so many times the drive required zero concentration. Which was good, because he was mentally fucking shot.
The workweek had been grueling. That client they’d been creating the custom application for had decided they wanted a complete overhaul one week before launch. If that hadn’t been bad enough, one database crashed and needed a total rebuild. Two sites migrated from the test server to live, he had three management meetings, and four new hires needed training.
And a partridge in a freaking pear tree.
He was exhausted, but he’d done his best to compartmentalize and things were stable at work, for the most part. But now on Friday night, in the driver’s seat of his car, his wife beside him looking like a goddess, his children who still didn’t seem to trust him in the backseat, and a plan to meet the woman they might invite into their bed, Brady felt like an old-school mainframe shutting down.
Last weekend had been the emotional equivalent of a rubber band—first drawn out too far with the pegging, then whipped back into Sam’s care. Snapped back out again with her surprise admission, then yanked in the other direction when she’d said she loved him. He hadn’t realized how much he needed it until she’d said it, but even in the face of her words, he couldn’t help being blown away at these new, or, he guessed, old desires of hers.
His wife was into girls.
It had shocked the ever-loving shit out of him. Yeah it was hot, and basically every guy’s dream. But the life he’d once thought was simple had blown into epic levels of complicated, and this new information made him worry that he didn’t know her at all.
“I still don’t get why we’re having dinner with Nana and Pop by ourselves.”
Brady glanced in the rearview mirror. Allegra was pouting, her arms crossed. Sam had explained this to her several times, but it seemed she hadn’t absorbed it. Seeing himself once again in his child, Brady tightened his hands on the steering wheel, anticipating Sam’s irritation. But she only smiled.
“You and Hope are having a special granddaughter goodbye dinner while Daddy and I run errands. Then we’re all going out for ice cream.”
It was the truth, and also a lie. The girls were having a private dinner with Sam’s parents, so he and Sam could go to a bar and meet Hanna.
They hadn’t found a sitter, but they’d found time to work out a threesome.
It was weird, too. He would’ve thought Sam would want to spend her parents’ last night here together, but he wasn’t the authority on what his wife wanted at the moment.
“Where are we getting ice cream?” Allegra asked, already on to the next thing.
Clearly she didn’t mind being shipped off again to yet another family member. Brady minded, though. Weren’t kids supposed to want to be with their parents?
Maybe other parents didn’t accidentally hit their kids in the head or forget to sign off on homework or buy the wrong kind of yogurt. He’d grabbed some at Sam’s request after work midweek when they’d run out and had ignored his instinct to call her and ask if it was the Yo-Kids or the Go-Gurt or the GoGo Kids SqueeZ Allegra liked more, afraid Sam would snap at him. Of course, he’d gotten the wrong thing. Allegra’s meltdown had been epic.
Sam hadn’t been thrilled, either, but she’d let it go.
“We’ll go wherever you want,” Sam said happily. “You and Hope decide.”
Allegra rattled off places, and Brady tuned it all out.
Sam had come home from work on Monday buzzing with energy. She’d talked to Hanna, and things were a go, as long as Brady was still cool with it after they met. She insisted that it was his call. If he wasn’t on board, she was out. Her arms around him, she’d said she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, and the intimacy they’d discovered was more important than her desire for wild experimentation.
He wasn’t one hundred percent sure how he felt, but it puffed him up, knowing Sam would only be able to fulfill this fantasy because of him. It made him feel like he was taking care of her. And making her happy was an addiction, a drug he could never get enough of.
It wasn’t just the old “happy wife, happy life” line. It was some kind of crazy chase, looking for ways to please her. To have her smiling at him instead of aggravated. To have her wanting him instead of that cold distance they’d felt for so long. He needed it like oxygen.
Brady pulled over across from Sam’s parents’ building. She turned to him and smiled.
“I’ll take them up,” she said.
“Okay.”
Her hair was curly tonight, her eyes shaded in the sexiest way, and what she had on underneath her jacket was orange and white and flowy, cut in that way that left one shoulder bare. She’d said she wore it because it covered her belly now that she’d put a few pounds back on, but he sure as hell hadn’t noticed. She could be heavy again, could be old and gray and wrinkled, and he’d still feel this way looking at her.
The girls climbed out of the car, and Brady’s phone beeped with a text. He watched them go inside, then pulled it from his pocket.
Jack. He thumbed over the screen to unlock it and read the message.
“Everything okay?”
Geez. Did his brother have radar for the times Brady didn’t want to talk?
Brady typed a quick reply. “Yeah, why?”
“You’re not at Barrel ’n’ Flask. Thought we were all meeting up tonight.”
Crap, he’d blanked on that. Jack had left a voicemail about that midway through the week. So had Patrick. Nick had texted, too. He’d blown them off, too focused on Sam and work. He’d figured she’d be the one to tell Lilly, Cassie and Gabe they were doing their own thing tonight. Strange that she hadn’t.
Their Discovery (Legally Bound Book 3) Page 23
