Get Off Easy

by Sara Brookes

  She found herself caught up in his strong embrace, cradled by his muscular arms. He felt good. Smelled wonderful. A luscious mixture of soap, coffee, and sin.

  Saint set her down and held her arm’s length. Examining. Assessing. The creases on his face softened as he took all of her in. “And you filled out very well. Damn. Curves in all the right places. You certainly fill out a shirt now after all that complaining you did about resembling a surfboard. Been too fucking long. How have you been?” He pulled her through the doorway, and planted a kiss on each of her cheeks before she could answer. “What in the hell are you doing standing outside of our door looking like a skittish cat?”

  He hadn’t told her to leave. Or slammed the door in her face. That was a good sign. “Wine delivery?”

  Saint snorted and snagged the bottle from her. His eyebrows lifted as he read the label. “Good vintage. Very good. Or so I hear. Our wine snob neighbor across the hall, and probably Boyce too, would give you the stamp of approval.”

  A warmth glowed inside her. Saint’s endorsement wasn’t something she should covet, but damn if she didn’t. What was wrong with her? It wasn’t as though they were strangers. She’d spent four years living it up in college with them. They’d shared a suite during junior year. An apartment off campus senior year. She’d seen them naked. More than a few times. Both in person and on the computer screen.

  Because you know they’re Doms now.

  Things were different.

  This was turning out to be a really bad idea.

  “Why is that?”

  “What?”

  “You muttered something about a bad idea. Not every situation can be solved with alcohol, but it can be enhanced with a few glasses of wine.” Saint moved quickly down the hall. Grae found herself staring at his ass. At the way the muscles moved under the fleece pants he’d pulled on.

  Jesus. When did I become such a horndog?

  As hard as it was to do, she focused on the apartment instead of Saint’s ass. She also noted how empty the rooms were as they moved through them. How sparsely furnished the place was. So utilitarian.

  Stark.

  No Boyce in sight. In fact, no sign that two men lived here at all. The place certainly didn’t look as though a long-term couple lived here. Had the article in the newspaper gotten it wrong?

  “Your place is gorgeous.”

  “Honey, we may have been apart for a number of years, but I can still tell when you’re lying.” Saint popped the cork. “They were going to raze the building to make way for a new shopping center. Last thing this city needs. But we saved it from the wrecking ball by convincing the city to declare it a historic landmark last year. We’ve both been too busy to do much with it. At least out here.”

  We.

  “Delicious wine, by the way.” He handed her a glass, slipped his arm around her waist, and guided her to a seating area.

  As she sank onto an overstuffed couch, she sighed. “You’ll have to excuse me for a minute. I had to peel my ass out of my shitty car seat. So I’m going to have a torrid affair with your couch.”

  Saint threw back his head and laughed. “Boyce said the same thing when he found it at the thrift store.”

  “Where is he?”

  Saint grimaced, absently running his hand against a shadow on his jaw. Over a patch of discoloration that wasn’t a day’s growth of stubble. “In his darkroom.” He cut his gaze to the wall beyond the kitchen. “That was the great thing about this space. We could set it up so our businesses and our living area were the same. Never have to leave unless it’s necessary. Boyce has most of the suite back there for his studio. I just need a corner for my equipment.”

  “Most people aren’t fortunate enough to work together, let alone live together.”

  Saint’s eyes widened in mock horror. “Good God, no. I love Boyce, but I could never run a company with him. I need organization. Some semblance of order. He just tosses something at the wall and hopes it sticks.” Saint motioned with his glass. “Lucky bastard usually succeeds.”

  The amused tone told her there wasn’t any kind of animosity between the two men over what had happened. Like her, they probably accepted the ups and downs that came along with power exchanges. Knew the minefield they had to maneuver through when such a thing took place. No telling what underlying problems a Dom would encounter when they started to peel back the layers.

  Grae wanted to know more. “What do you do?”

  “Network and computer security. Building security, too. Most of my work is strictly on-site.”

  “Which is why you only need the corner.” She sipped her wine, feeling some of her trepidation dull thanks to the high alcohol content of the expensive wine. “Same with me.”

  “You do computer security, too?”

  “Ah. No.” Grae laughed at the thought. “I do CGI work for movies.”

  “No shit. All right, now that you’ve shown up on our doorstep after years of silence, which we’re going to discuss later, it’s time to fill me in. Especially because it sounds exciting as hell.”

  Grae smiled at the admiration in his tone. At the genuine surprise. She was used to people being completely disinterested in her work. When they heard she worked in the movie industry, they immediately assumed actress. When they learned the truth, they were usually disappointed and dismissed her.

  “Don’t sound so impressed. It’s boring work. Just me sitting around my office plugging images into an animation program all day and painting pretty pictures.”

  Saint refilled her glass. “Better than being tied to an office chair all day for corporate America.”

  “And how.” They clinked their glasses together. She drank slowly this time, especially once she’d realized she’d blown through the first glass so quickly. “You know, I’m not surprised the two of you are still together. Even though both of you adamantly denied your attraction for years all throughout college. We all knew it. But you guys sure as hell fought it.”

  “I know. It was...a very long route to get where we are now. A twisty road that is paved with concrete instead of gold, and filled in with grass and rocks in some places. Still have a few scars to show for it.”

  Tough roads weren’t a bad thing in relationships. Sometimes those who had the most treacherous path had the strongest bonds. From everything she knew about the men, they were rock solid. Granted most of her knowledge of them recently was all about sex. And sex didn’t need love. But boy, she sure as hell could tell when it was more than just sex, lust, and domination.

  She wanted that even though she argued with herself how wrong it was to want such a thing.

  “How long have you two been together now?”

  “Nearly thirteen years. We made it official right after graduation. You didn’t stick around to help us celebrate.”

  A hot spiral of desire wound through her. One she wouldn’t think about. Being reminded of that night wasn’t something she needed to deal with right now. She felt bad enough as it was about her shortcomings. No need to exacerbate the problem.

  “Wow. Congratulations. That’s fabulous.” And quite the feat in today’s society. She held out her glass to toast their achievement, but Saint’s mouth twisted into a frown.

  “Not always.”

  “Everything all right?”

  Saint’s gaze focused briefly on the far wall again. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but Boyce enlisted in the military shortly after graduation.”

  The alumni newsletter certainly hadn’t mentioned Boyce’s service. But the news didn’t surprise Grae. “He talked about it enough.”

  “Yeah, he did.” Saint grew quiet for a moment before continuing. “Took him a while to find his groove, but when he did—hoo boy. To say his job was his passion was an understatement.” Pride rang true in Saint’s voice.


  “A little too much, perhaps?”

  “You always were perceptive.” Saint rose and returned from the kitchen with a fresh bottle of wine. One of those conversations. She’d have to slow down on the drink consumption if she wanted to maintain coherency. “Boyce was blowing shit up and taking names. He was never on the front lines—”

  “But you still worried.”

  “Who wouldn’t? I never worried about him until...” Saint cleared his throat. “I’m babbling about the two of us. I said I wanted to hear about what you’ve been up to since graduation and I meant it. Besides your high-powered movie job. You had to do some living in there.”

  Grae snorted. “Moved around a lot. Couldn’t seem to get comfortable in any one spot for long. Never really set down stakes long enough to make more than passing friendships. No romantic attachments.”

  “That’s navy brat in you talking. You get used to that nomadic pattern, and it becomes your way of life. Whether you like it or not.”

  Wasn’t that the truth? Her childhood had been a parade of navy towns. Each one more depressing than the last. Different cities. Different drunk sailors decorating the lawn each morning. Same boring life. “As much as I hated it as a kid, I never thought I’d crave it as an adult. Been in Los Angeles for a few years now.” And probably the longest she’d lived in one area since she’d been at college.

  “Know any famous movie stars?”

  “Oh, sure. George and Amal are at my house all the time. Just last weekend we had Julia over too.” Grae rolled her eyes. “I wish that was my life. I’m more likely to hear from the studios than from the actors. Studios worried about their investment. Or how I’m making the actors look. Good or bad. Usually bad. Can’t have a hair out of place. Or an eyebrow not arched seamlessly.” She still hadn’t gotten those abs perfected enough for her taste. Though her fingers were itching to get back to her work, she knew this was more important.

  “There’s a lot of work for you then?”

  “Computer graphics can make or break a movie in today’s market. Audiences are savvy enough to know when corners are cut for the sake of budget. And thanks to social media, they’re very vocal about sharing their thoughts.”

  “That is a lot of stress riding on your shoulders.”

  “Grae?”

  She looked over to find Boyce standing on the far side of the room. Like Saint, Boyce wore sweatpants that were slung low around his hips, no shirt, and bare feet. Dark rings shadowed the skin under his blue eyes, highlighting a redness that could be from crying or lack of sleep.

  Emotion socked Grae in the gut, stealing her breath. Saint had been downplaying Boyce’s emotional state. But with Boyce in the room, there was no way to mistake something was wrong. She set her glass on the table, rose, and crossed to him. A fierce need to cradle him, comfort him, spread through her chest. She touched his cheek, before fitting her hand against his jaw. He visibly jerked, surprise registered in his clouded eyes.

  “Oh my God. I didn’t think you were real.” He swooped in to gather her close. She immediately tucked her face against his neck. His body shuddered against hers, a quiet sob splitting the air as he tightened his arms around her waist. “I was just thinking about you the other day. Wondering how you were doing. I have no idea why I did or why you’re here, but I’m glad you came, Grae.”

  Even though she was pleased to know he’d been thinking about her, Grae could hear the strain in his voice. This wasn’t someone upset or having a bad day. Boyce’s problems ran deeper. And if Boyce was still anything like he was in college, he wanted to handle his problems in silence. No matter how many people offered to help. But one thing stood out in her mind the most—the men needed to deal with whatever was happening on their own.

  Without her interference.

  “I should get going. I just thought I’d—”

  Boyce set his hand on her shoulder, his eyes flashing clear in the blink of an eye. The haggard and worn expression was gone, replaced with the clear radiance of command. “Sit.”

  Holy shit.

  The charged note to the single word left no doubt that these guys really had grown up. In all the right ways. Nothing she hadn’t already known, but seeing it live in person, experiencing it, was an entirely different story.

  “I didn’t mean to intrude on your weekend, or wake you up—” She snapped her mouth shut when Boyce brought his face level with hers.

  The iciness of his blue eyes sharpened, homing in on her. “We’re only tired because Saint felt the need to remind me his smart mouth is also pretty damn skilled. And I, of course, couldn’t be outdone.”

  Grae felt her cheeks flush from the look the two men exchanged, both in embarrassment and arousal. Boyce was tired all right. Tired for all the right reasons. Damn. She’d read every single one of Saint’s signals incorrectly. The two men had obviously dealt with the incident and moved on.

  Stupid.

  She really had been a fool to throw her life into a tailspin simply because of what she’d seen on the video. Tracking them down. Coming here. It had all been a mistake. A total, utter fail. Just stamp loser on her forehead. They were perfectly fine without her. No reason to complicate things. To confess the true motive that brought her to their doorstep. The one she couldn’t work out in her head.

  “I really should be going.”

  Boyce captured her chin, forcing her to look at him again. “You can’t pop out of the woodwork and expect to leave so soon. I can’t speak for Saint, but I sure as hell am not about to let you walk about of here without filling us in on all the juicy details of your life.”

  Saint came to stand next to her. A warm shimmer spread through her when he set his chin on her shoulder. “I’m looking forward to hearing it as well. As soon as we break out the tequila and order pizza for dinner. Mushroom and anchovies, right?”

  They really weren’t going to take no for an answer. In a way it warmed her through and through. Made her feel as though she hadn’t wasted her time. But it also pained her. She missed this. Missed them. Missed the easy byplay they’d shared in college. How they’d counted on one another through the good and bad. The feelings warring deep inside her, reminded her she spent far too much time in front of the computer working and not enough time living. She was here to spend some time with them, so why not do just that?

  “I’ll stay on one condition.”

  “Name it,” Boyce stated easily.

  “Only if you guys have Killer Amazons from Mars.”

  Saint grinned. “In hi-def glory.”

  Five hours later, Grae’s belly was full, and her entire body was warm. As though she’d been coated with a layer of caramel. Then dipped in melted chocolate. She’d forgotten how tequila always gave her a nice, warm, gooey feeling. Especially when she’d had just enough to find that perfect state where she was buzzed, but still capable of clear, rational thought.

  She was curled up on the couch, nestled comfortably between Saint and Boyce. It was as though the lapse in years hadn’t occurred. She’d spent many a Washington winter night cuddled between them on the couch in just this manner, watching bad movies while munching on pizza they’d scraped money together for.

  Her head rested against Boyce’s strong shoulder, while Saint had pulled her legs across his lap. For the past ten minutes, he’d been idly sweeping his thumb over her ankle. Each time he did, she felt a slow throb between her legs. An anchoring of her soul.

  A side effect of the tequila.

  Right?

  A few minutes later, Boyce began playing with her hair. Slow, soft strokes that were mesmerizing. Drawing her under while lifting her higher. She coasted up, floating and free. Drifting. Her senses dulled so each slow draw of Boyce’s fingers through her hair sent her deeper.

  The screen in front of her began to blur. The heat kindling inside her grew, expa
nding out and collecting where the two men touched her as the movie continued. The air around her felt thick as her world fragmented. The only thing that existed for her was the cloud of sensation Boyce was dragging her along.

  Where she was warm and safe.

  Where she lived in a place where this type of arrangement was perfectly acceptable.

  The way they touched her, caressed her was the sort of connection she’d always longed for. The kind she’d thought only happened in fairy tales. The happily ever after she wanted was complicated and tangled. A maze of feelings where there was no end.

  These men were the first ones to make her believe anything was possible.

  Too bad that world didn’t truly exist.

  * * *

  Saint stretched his neck as the credits began to roll. It had been a while since they’d done a bad movie marathon, but it was nice to sit idle for a few hours. The company was fabulous too. A great ending to a day that had started out so shitty.

  As he tended to do, Saint was worried about Boyce. The moments of happiness were coming few and far between lately. It was as though Boyce was there, but not fully. Like Boyce felt he needed to maintain his distance because he didn’t want to worry those who cared for him.

  When Saint glanced over at Boyce, emotion caught in his throat. Grae’s head nested in Boyce’s lap, her eyes closed, and she wore an expression of sheer bliss on her pretty, heart-shaped face. The lines of worry Saint had noticed when he’d found her at the front door had smoothed. He still wasn’t sure why she’d shown up so unexpectedly, but he’d learned a long time ago that sometimes it was better not to question.

  Going with the flow wasn’t always his way, but he was adaptable when it came to Grae. The girl with the name typically associated with drab and ashen things. Neutral. She was anything but gray.

  Boyce trailed his fingers over her temple, occasionally sweeping her hair back. They were both settled deep, and the state had nothing to do with alcohol.