by Mari Carr
“Why is that?” Grant asked.
Elyse tucked her legs under her. Sebastian hadn’t resumed his place on the couch. Instead, he’d opted to maintain a safer distance, plopping down on the chair across from them.
“My dad is very interested in politics. He gives unbelievably large donations to candidates who support his causes.”
Grant took a sip of his wine. “His causes or his bank account?”
Elyse lifted her glass in a silent cheer. “That’s what I say to him. He’s very good at playing the injured party whenever my mothers and I make that observation. And our tiny digs worked…to an extent. In the last gubernatorial race, he broke party lines and supported a democrat. I’m pretty sure it was simply so he could point to that one example from now until the end of time as a way of proving us wrong. It also helped that the republican candidate was an absolute tool.”
Sebastian tried to wrap his head around their conversation. Grant and Elyse were both legacies. And yet the actions of their families seemed counterproductive to the society’s mission. He’d never heard anyone within the organization express the conservative leanings that seemed prevalent in Elyse’s and Grant’s families.
“I take it no one else in your family has pursued a career in politics since your great-grandfather?” Sebastian asked.
Grant shook his head. “No. My grandfather’s ambitions lay in the medical field. Before he retired, he was one of the leading brain surgeons in the country. And as I said, my dad’s dreams were smaller. He’s a community college professor.”
Sebastian wasn’t sure how to work an inquiry about Jessica in. After all, when people spoke about their families, it was typically the immediate members. Driving the conversation to a great-aunt who had been dead for decades would be tough.
Sebastian’s stomach growled. Loudly. “Have you guys eaten today?”
“Yes,” Elyse replied. “We walked down the street for coffee and bagels this morning. You were dead to the world.”
“We skipped lunch though. We were waiting for you to wake up. Should we run out for food?” Grant asked.
Sebastian was too comfortable, too content in the suite. “How would you feel about room service?”
Elyse jumped up to grab the menu from the kitchen counter. “It’s my favorite thing on earth.”
Sebastian chuckled and the three of them took turns deciding what they wanted from the menu. Grant called to place the order.
Elyse and Grant were still sitting beside each other on the couch, though Sebastian noticed they’d moved closer. It reminded him of their earlier confession and though he knew better than to step into the fire, his willpower was weak.
“So you kissed her?” he asked Grant.
Grant didn’t hesitate to respond and there was no guilt in the man’s tone. “That’s right. I did.”
“What kind of kiss are we talking about?” Sebastian attempted to play it cool, though his cock was beginning to stiffen.
Everything he was doing right now was stupid.
He did it anyway.
“The best kind,” Grant joked as Elyse narrowed her eyes.
She put her wineglass on the coffee table. “I think now might be a good time to lay down some ground rules. I refuse to spend the rest of my life being outnumbered.”
Grant grinned, but Sebastian couldn’t do the same.
The rest of her life as far as this relationship was concerned had an expiration date. Thirty days. Sebastian needed to make some sort of progress on his investigation. Instead, he was hung up on that damn kiss he hadn’t seen.
“Kiss her again,” Sebastian demanded. “I want to see it.”
Elyse rolled her eyes. “Oh my God. What part of ground rules do you not—”
Grant had proven himself to be a man of action yesterday. That streak continued today. Before Elyse could finish her complaint, he’d taken her face in his hands and his lips were on hers.
Sebastian had grown up with three parents who genuinely loved each other. Kissing was a common thing—his father kissed both his wives. And Sebastian’s mom and “aunt” kissed as well. Their relationship was open and loving and—in his mind—perfect.
However, this kiss was different, powerful. Overwhelmingly passionate.
The two people sitting across from him were virtual strangers. And though they believed themselves to be pledged to each other in a lifelong commitment, Sebastian knew better. They weren’t his to keep.
He didn’t care. It had been too long since he’d felt this sort of desire, this need to hold a woman, to put her beneath him and thrust deep and hard as she screamed in the throes of pleasure. What’s more, he wanted Grant there with him, doing the same thing.
Sebastian had never indulged in a threesome. No doubt his reasons for resisting would cause Elyse to say “I told you so” about his too-honorable personality. He’d always believed that type of affair should be saved for his trinity, that it should be special, sacred.
These two people weren’t his. And yet he wanted them. Too much.
As Grant continued to kiss Elyse, Sebastian stared in wonder. Their mouths were open, their tongues touching, stroking, tasting. The temperature in the suite had risen; the air thick and heavy and hot. So damn hot.
Grant was seducing Elyse with his kiss and taking Sebastian along for the ride. Sebastian kept a white-knuckled grip on the arms of the chair. If he could just stay in his seat, keep away from them, he could resist the lure, the need to join them.
While Grant had weakened his resolve, it was Elyse who delivered the knockout punch. She pulled away from Grant to look over at him.
“Seb,” she whispered, holding her hand out in invitation.
He rose without thought, without considering the consequences. Resuming his place on the couch, she twisted to face him and suddenly it was his lips on hers.
Elyse’s hand tangled in his hair as if she was afraid he’d let go. There was no power on the planet that could compel him to release her. Her breath was sweet from the wine they’d been drinking. There was no hesitance or reserve in her kiss.
Their lips parted briefly when Elyse gasped. Sebastian glanced down to see Grant had shifted closer. His arms were wrapped around her, cupping her breasts firmly. She was well endowed, so much so Sebastian wondered if they were real. That rumor had gone around school about every member of the bitch squad. Probably because all four girls in the clique were rich and Barbie-doll perfect.
However, while the other girls put a lot of money, time and effort into acquiring that look, Elyse came by it naturally.
Sebastian caught her gaze and raised his eyebrows, enjoying the opportunity to tease her. “You know, there was a rumor…”
She rolled her eyes. Then with a sexy grin, she quoted Seinfeld. “They’re real, and they’re spectacular.”
Sebastian laughed, Grant joining him.
“You can say that again.” Grant tightened his grip and Elyse’s head fell back, a soft moan escaping her lips.
There was an aggression to Grant’s touches that Elyse responded to. Sebastian had never indulged in rough play. It wasn’t that the desire to do so wasn’t there. It had more to do with his too-deeply ingrained “gentleman” nature. He’d been raised to treat women gently, with respect. He had two mothers who made sure their sons opened doors, pulled out chairs, and made liberal use of the pedestal when it came to girlfriends.
Grant lifted Elyse’s shirt above her bra and tugged one breast loose, above the lace. His quick, sure moves had Elyse gasping for air, but her lowered eyelids, the flush on her face and her soft mews told Sebastian everything he needed to know.
Especially when Grant took one of her nipples between his fingers and pinched. Hard.
There was no question the pinch hurt. And no denying Elyse loved that pain. Responded to it.
Sebastian was torn between watching and participating. He’d never considered himself a voyeur, but he couldn’t have looked away from Grant’s hands on Elyse if his life
depended on it.
“Kiss her, Seb.”
Grant was taking control of the situation, and as it just so happened, Sebastian was very good at taking commands.
He cupped Elyse’s face in his hands, drawing her lips back to his, as Grant continued to squeeze her breast. Elyse gyrated between them, her arousal reaching critical mass. She grabbed Sebastian’s hand and guided it to her pussy. He rubbed her mons through the soft cotton of her lounge pants, offering her the pressure she needed. She thrust against his hand even as their mouths consumed each other in a scorching kiss.
Sebastian had just reached for the elastic of her pants, intent on stripping her out of the damn things, when they were interrupted by a knock at the door.
Room service.
Sebastian pulled away reluctantly. “Forgot about the food.”
Elyse’s face was bright pink, her breath coming and going in quick pants. “Shit,” she whispered.
Grant was struggling to recover as well. He rose, clearly intent on answering the door. Sebastian couldn’t help chuckling at the very obvious evidence of his desire straining against his jeans.
Grant shot him a dirty look with little anger behind it, and then he pointed to Sebastian’s crotch. “You’re not doing much better, my friend.”
Sebastian wondered which of them would manage to get their dicks under control first.
Another knock at the door.
“Coming,” Elyse called out. She was still disheveled, her eyes foggy with unrequited desire.
Five minutes longer and Sebastian suspected they would have had the rest of their clothing off and one of them would have been inside Elyse.
That realization crashed over him like ice-cold water. He’d almost had sex with them. Both of them.
He still wanted to.
Jesus. He couldn’t want that.
Sebastian rose quickly, his erection fading fast as regret and guilt overwhelmed him. “I’ll get it.”
Elyse fixed her bra, pulling her shirt down, and Grant resumed his seat on the couch, readjusting his pants to hide his hard-on. The two of them sat a proper distance apart as Sebastian opened the door for the waiter. None of them spoke as the man set the tray on the dining table. Sebastian signed the check, and then leaned against the door he’d just closed behind the server, hesitant to return to the couch.
“Smells good,” Sebastian said at last.
His words broke the tension and made a decision regarding the question none of them asked. Food or sex?
Sebastian wasn’t sure he could stop himself if things heated up like that again. Elyse and Grant rose and claimed chairs at the table, both of them oohing and ahhing over the food. It did smell delicious, yet Sebastian’s appetite had deserted him. His stomach was twisted in knots.
“I have to run out,” he said, not leaving his position by the door.
“What?” Elyse was clearly surprised by his abrupt comment.
“Can’t it wait until afterwards?” Grant asked, not specifying whether he meant after they ate or after they fucked.
Sebastian shook his head. He couldn’t stay here. The air was heavy with unfulfilled lust. If he sat down at that table, he wouldn’t be able to resist touching her…touching them.
He needed to speak to Juliette, to tell her what he’d learned and to see if it was enough. Enough to get him out of this hotel room, out of this trinity.
“It can’t wait.” Before either of them could convince him otherwise, Sebastian grabbed his wallet from the end table and left.
As he stepped out of the hotel and onto the sidewalk, he realized it was already getting harder to walk away from them. A lot harder.
Chapter Five
Sebastian was relieved to find Juliette at the legacy house. Part of him expected her to be at her office in the Trinity Masters headquarters. He’d been willing to go there if he had to, but he much preferred to see as few people as possible right now and the public library was usually filled with tourists at this time of day.
He unlocked the door and entered his home, surprised when he was met in the foyer by a man he didn’t know. Then he realized exactly who the guy had to be.
“Franco?”
The dark-haired man smiled, his face friendly and relaxed. “You must be Seb.”
Franco used his nickname. Not that that was unusual. It was the only thing Juliette ever called him. With the exception of Bastian—the nickname he hated—which she reserved for times when she was pissed off at him.
They shook hands. “It’s nice to finally meet Jules’ new husband. Good luck with that, by the way,” Sebastian joked.
Franco had a deep laugh that filled the room. “Yeah. Something tells me I’ll need it. Juliette has said a lot of nice things about you. If I wasn’t so secure in my manhood, I’d probably be jealous.”
Sebastian chuckled. “You’re safe there. And while I appreciate the compliment, I’m not an idiot. I assume she’s also said some equally un-nice things about me too.”
Franco winked. “You were in the doghouse there for a little while when she found out you’d hidden your association with the CIA from her. Just be glad you weren’t Devon.”
Seb winced. While his past with Elle was a secret, the fact that Juliette had been stupidly in love with Devon, whom she’d been essentially betrothed to at birth, had been common knowledge. Juliette’s rebellion included refusing to work for the CIA, FBI or any other acronym organization. But Devon and Seb had both gone into intelligence work—and hidden that from Juliette. He would not have wanted to be Devon when Juliette found out the truth about what he did for a living.
“How bad was it?”
“Angry sex. Angst-filled conversations in the middle of the night.” Franco looked bemused. “It’s like the two of them can’t have a conversation when it’s light outside.”
Seb liked Franco, and he was a good third for Juliette and Devon, who were both a bit on the dramatic side.
Franco smiled. “Good news for you is that all appears to be forgiven now. She said you’re helping us discover if the purists—who I think need a more ominous code name—are still operating within the society.”
Sebastian nodded. “That’s actually why I’m here. Is she around?”
Franco gestured toward the living room. “She and Devon are in there. The three of us have been going through member files, trying to see what information we can dig up on these lost legacies. It’s slow going. A lot of the files were handwritten a long time ago. The penmanship sucks and the ink has faded.”
Though the work sounded painful, Franco’s tone suggested he loved every minute of it.
“Juliette said you’re an archivist.”
Franco nodded as he led Sebastian toward the living room. “Yep. While Jules and Dev are groaning about what we’re doing, I’m like a kid in a candy store. I think my happiness is starting to get on their nerves.”
Sebastian understood Juliette’s attraction to this man. He was laid back, honest to a fault and genuine—the polar opposite of most people in their acquaintance.
As they entered the room, Juliette looked up, frowning at him. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be hate-fucking Elyse Hunt.”
“Good to see you too.” Sebastian picked up a couple of folders in order to make himself a spot on the couch. “You’re trashing our house.”
Juliette was sitting on the floor, surrounded by stacks of paper. The place looked like it had been hit by a tornado.
“Sorry to offend your delicate sensibilities.”
Sebastian snorted. “Is there anyone else here?”
“Do you think I’d have a bunch of top-secret files all over the living room floor if there were?”
“I don’t know, would you?”
“No. I wouldn’t.” Juliette looked up and glared. “Jerk.”
Sebastian snorted. “You’re the jerk.”
Juliette’s eyes narrowed. “Eshek oglu eshek.”
Sebastian sucked in a breath. She did not
just say that. “Amcik agizli.”
Devon, seated in an armchair with papers mounded on his lap, rubbed the back of his neck. “Children, please.”
“What are they doing?” Franco sounded only mildly curious.
“Insulting each other in grammatically incorrect Turkish.”
Sebastian was trying to think of another insult—he was going to have to switch to Farsi soon, he knew more curse words in that language. Then Juliette used the wrong word and they both paused.
“Did you just say you were going to turn into a tree and eat me?”
Juliette pursed her lips. “Damn it, I did.”
They looked at one another and then broke into gales of laughter. Franco peered at them over the top of his glasses. “Are they always like this?”
“Yes,” Devon groaned.
It felt good to laugh. Sebastian rubbed his forehead, and when he looked up, Juliette was staring at him. She must have seen something in his face because she asked, “Is everything okay?”
He nodded slowly. Nothing was okay, but he didn’t really want to go into the personal details with Franco and Devon—a stranger and Sebastian’s CIA handler respectively—in the room.
“What do you know about Richard Breton?” he asked.
Juliette picked up the folder she had been perusing and waved it. “I’ve just been reading about him. He’s Grant’s great-grandfather. He was a senator from California and part of the McCarthy movement. Which seems weird to me, considering we think his daughter might have been a Nazi sympathizer.”
Dammit. Juliette already had the same information he had. Which meant he had nothing to offer, no reason for being here. Except that he’d needed to get away from Grant and Elyse before he made the biggest mistake of his life.
“I thought it was odd as well.”
Juliette gave him a curious look. “Did Grant tell you about Richard?”
Sebastian nodded. “Yeah. He’s a pretty upfront guy.”
Franco grinned. “In that case, why don’t you just ask him if he knows about the purists and whether or not they’re still operating?”
Juliette rolled her eyes as Devon shook his head. “You’d make a shitty spy, Franco.”
