by Avery Gale
It took several attempts to get her calmed back down and in the back of his mind, Sage kept wondering what on earth they’d missed. Could she still be reeling in the emotional undertow of what she’d experienced? It didn’t seem likely knowing how strong she was. Sure, she’d had a scare in Costa Rica last year but it hadn’t been anything that would have prompted a reaction even remotely like what they’d just witnessed. All of them were trained to deal with a variety of possible victim reactions and in his peripheral vision, Sage could see the other three seemed just as baffled by Jen’s over the top reaction as he was. Personally, he thought it was much more likely she’d been having some kind of trouble more recently and had failed to mention it to anyone. Thinking about her coping with the kind of threats that would have initiated the reaction they’d just seen had his gut clenching. Oh, baby, Jax is going to pop a vessel if you haven’t kept him apprised of what’s happening. And Sam and I are going to set your ass on fire again if that’s the case. Once her breathing appeared to have calmed, he brushed his thumbs over her high cheekbones before speaking to her softly, “Want to tell us what we’re missing, sweetness? Because your reaction was totally out of synch with the information we’ve been given.”
Sage watched as her eyes darted to the left before lowering in a classic “I’m going to lie my ass off” move. Hell, the woman was a well-respected expert in the field of body language interpretation so she had to be shaken to her core to make a mistake like that, especially when she was sitting in a room with four Doms, a fact he was sure she hadn’t missed. “I don’t need to remind you there are serious consequences for lying, sweet cheeks. But I will remind you that editing and omitting facts will have the same consequences as lying. Now, out with it.”
When her narrow shoulders sagged in resignation, Sage knew that at least she planned to tell the truth. He seriously doubted they’d get it all, but he was hopeful she’d spill enough of the beans they’d have some ideas about how to help. Jen took a couple of deep breaths and then started relaying what she had initially considered random events over the past few months. The longer she spoke, the more the hair on the back of Sage’s neck stood on end. Sam’s wrinkled brow indicated he was experiencing the same concerns. Thankfully whoever had decided Jen Keating was fair game hadn’t taken into account the fact she was whip smart and had evidently been born under a lucky star. Jesus, how on earth has she lucked out so many times?
Sage made a silent vow to himself that from this point forward she wouldn’t be facing the threats alone. Even the luckiest people had to go toe-to-toe with a demon eventually and Sage worried that face-off was coming sooner rather than later. Jen’s luck was most likely precariously close to running out.
Chapter Four
Listening to Jen describe what she’d so inadequately described as “the numerous incidents” of the past few months set every warning bell in Sam McCall’s head clanging as if they were weathering hurricane force winds. How does one tiny bundle of gorgeous manage to attract so much trouble? It’s absolutely baffling. The woman was a magnet for trouble and seemed completely oblivious to that fact. Hell, he and his brother were highly trained operatives—among the world’s most elite soldiers as a matter of fact, and he didn’t doubt for a minute that she’d keep them on their toes for the rest of their lives. Holy shit! I have to chill out or I’m going to blow this before we’ve even had a chance to explore it. Even though they had discussed their hopes that Jen might be the one woman they’d be able to build their future with, Sam knew that plan wasn’t even close to being a certainty. Any thoughts to that end were a setup for heartbreak at this point.
Where on earth had his assumption that she would even consider belonging to them forever come from? He and Sage had shared women in scenes for years, but the possibility of them sharing one forever had been little more than a dream before meeting Jen. No one had been surprised when their friends, Kyle and Kent West, settled into a polyamorous relationship because that was how they’d been raised. But Jax McDonald and Micah Drake’s recent marriage to Latin beauty, Gracie Santos, had been the first time Sam had seriously entertained the idea that something similar might work out for he and his brother, Sage, as well.
Refocusing his attention on Jen, Sam thought back over various things she’d mentioned happening over the past couple of months. “What was the very first odd thing you remember, doll?”
The disapproving glare she shot him for the pet name made him smile. Keep it up, little subbie, my palm has been itching to reconnect with your curvy backside for months. “Honestly, weird shit happens to me all the time so it’s hard to say. But the first thing I can remember was the mail in my box being all topsy-turvy.” They must have all looked puzzled because she laughed. “The man who delivers mail to my apartment building is absolutely over-the-top OCD. Every piece of mail is always facing the same direction and leaning the same way so when I open the box I know I’m going to be able to grab it with one hand.” Shrugging at their open-mouth stares, she just waited.
Sage leaned forward and asked the question Sam was willing to bet all four of them were struggling to figure out. “How the hell did you notice this? I mean, really that is a pretty strange observation.”
Sam knew Sage hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings, but it was glaringly obvious he had. “Well, some of us are just odd like that, Sage. I noticed it not long after I moved in, so I hung out in the lobby one day to meet the mail carrier. It turns out he is an older man who takes a lot of pride in what he does. He told me that many of his customers are busy professionals and he knows they are usually carrying laptops, bags, kids, and any number of things when they open their mail boxes. His way of helping them out is to make it easy for them to grab the mail and go. And he is religious about making sure things are just perfect.” Sam watched as her cheeks turned pink and he’d be willing to bet she’d befriended the elderly man she obviously respected.
“Jen, I don’t think Sage meant any disrespect to you or your mailman. But for guys like us, that kind of observation is so unlikely it’s almost funny. We’re not as tuned in to that sort of thing unless we’re working.” Truer words had never been spoken, because that sort of detail wasn’t anything he’d have probably ever noticed, let alone recognized so quickly.
Sage leaned back, obviously surprised by Sam’s words. “Damn, I wasn’t trying to be rude, Jen. But holy fucking cat tracks, noticing that kind of detail really is a testament to how bright you are.” He grinned at her and Sam could see some of the tension ease from her posture. “Now, go on—what happened that caught your attention with the mail?”
Jen looked at each of them in turn as if gauging whether or not they were really interested. Evidently satisfied with what she’d seen, she explained, “Well, like I said, I opened my box and everything was messed up. You know, upside down, the front of envelopes facing the back of the stack. Stuff like that, so I asked the security guy at the desk if Tommy was sick. Because Tommy always let me know if he was going to be off work.” Her cheeks flamed bright red and she added quietly, “He’s a nice man and lonely so I made friends with him. He is supposed to retire in a few weeks and then he’s moving to Florida to be near his sister, the lucky dog. I’m planning a little surprise party for him before he leaves though.”
Fluttering her hand to the side as if she’d realized how off track she’d gone, she quickly went on. “Anyway, he had been the one to deliver the mail that day, so that told me someone had gone through my mail. It’s not like I ever get anything interesting in the mail, but it was still odd and kind of creepy.” Odd indeed, and mighty fucking careless of whoever had done it. One of the cardinal rules of Intel gathering was to leave no trace behind, so whoever had gone through Jen’s things had either been sloppy or they’d purposely let her know they’d been there.
“Then a few days later I was crossing the street outside my apartment and I was almost run over by a black SUV. If my neighbor, Betty, hadn’t waved me over to see the outfit she’d ju
st bought for her new grandson I’d have been the guys new hood ornament. It was the cutest little thing, a sailor sleeper with an anchor on the chest and the little hat, just adorable.” Sam looked over at Carl and Peter just as they both covered their laughter with phony fits of coughing. Jen frowned in their direction before shrugging her shoulders. She has no clue how amazing she is. Her mind works at warp speed on so many different levels simultaneously it has to be utterly exhausting. CeCe’s words rang through his mind with an entirely new level of clarity and truth.
“Everything seemed to be back to normal, or at least my normal, for a while…” Watching as Jen pulled her bottom lip between her teeth chewing on it nervously, Sam just waited, letting her work through what she wanted to say. She took a deep breath and then said, “Then…well, I just had this feeling I was being watched. I never could really see anyone out of place, but you know what it’s like in D.C. There is craziness and chaos everywhere in that city, so something has to be pretty out there to stand out. Anyway, it just gave me the creeps and I started going out less and less. I still traveled for work, but most of those trips have been to much more stable locations than this trip.”
Like all good interrogators, Sam knew how to use silence to his advantage so he just waited to see what else she might share. He’d almost decided to call it a night when he noticed her start to fidget in her seat. Pay dirt. “And…well, there is the thing with the flowers. That was a little weird.”
“Flowers?” Thankfully Peter had asked because Sam had serious doubts about his ability to contain his frustration. Flowers? Really, Jen? Flowers are the Hallmark greeting of every card-carrying crazy bastard out there, and you mention it last? Almost as an afterthought? Dol,l you are racking up so many punishments I’m going to have to start a tally.
“Well, yeah. At first it was kind of sweet, you know? Like a secret admirer or something. But then the notes started to get a little too personal and…” When she turned to him, Sam realized both of his hands were clenched into fists and he evidently hadn’t fully succeeded in suppressing the growl of rage that had rolled through him. How fucking dare someone threaten her? Jen stopped talking and Sam wanted to kick himself. Way to scare our only source of information into silence, McCall. And the hell of it was he, of all people, should know better. He was the team leader, a highly trained interviewer and negotiator, as well as an experienced Dom. Where the hell had his self-control gone? Had it simply evaporated into steam when his body had enflamed with a need to shield her from harm that was burning from his soul outward until his skin was even starting to tingle? What was it about this woman that flipped every one of his switches? Why did his instincts scream shelter and protect every time he so much as thought about her? Because she belongs to me and to my brother.
*****
Fuck, fuck, fuckidy fuck. When will I ever learn to keep my damned runaway mouth closed? Jen could practically feel the anger pouring off Sam and it took everything in her not to cringe away from his touch when he took her much smaller hand in his. She’d known the flowers were going to be a huge issue, but she’d hoped to soften the impact a bit by building up to it. Yeah right, Fred. That worked out great. Whatcha’ gonna do for your next trick, Mensa Girl? Taking a deep breath, she tried to smile, “Sorry, probably should have led with that, huh?”
This time both McCalls growled at her, but when their buddies laughed out loud Jen couldn’t hold back her giggle. Peter leaned forward and patted the back of her hand, “Honey, you are fucking perfect. I’d been dreading this last mission with Mr. Large and In Charge over there,” he nodded toward Sam, “but you just made it totally worth every bit of melancholy that had surrounded it. But right now, Carl and I are going to do a perimeter sweep and let you guys have some privacy. Then we’ll be next door should you need us.” When she looked up nervously at them, he leaned down and whispered against her ear, “You got this, girl. No worries.”
Sage’s snarled, “Out. Get your own woman,” made both men laugh out loud again as they gathered their gear and moved to the small hallway. Once they were alone, Jen felt the atmosphere between them switch up like a west Texas wind change before a storm. Looking from Sam to Sage, she noticed their thunderous expressions and knew her storm analogy had probably been all too prophetic.
Since eating seemed preferable to being paddled, Jen grabbed up a new fork and focused on the very cold plate of food in front of her. Once she’d finished the dinner that had lost its appeal she set her fork down and looked up. Sam simply raised a brow, “Finished, doll?”
“Umm…yes, thanks for asking though.” Stretching her arms over her head, she tried to pull up a yawn but her racing pulse seemed to be hell bent on denying her the ruse. “Boy, I’m beat. I think I’ll turn in early. Good night, gentlemen.”
Just as she started to stand, Sam leaned forward and snapped, “Sit. Down.” When she dropped back onto the chair as if someone had cut the strings on a marionette, he nodded once before continuing, “We’ll be covering the notes and flowers issue later, doll. Don’t think you’ve gotten away with trying to soften the impact of that particular piece of information with the big round about you took by mentioning everything else first.” She must have seemed surprised because she heard Sage’s chuckle from her left. “You aren’t the only bright person in the room, pet.” Jen knew the SEALs were America’s best and brightest on a lot of levels so she didn’t doubt for a minute what Sam had said was true. “And as it happens we’re all very experienced Doms as well. And do you know what that means?” She felt like a deer caught in the blinding beams of oncoming headlights—powerless to look away, and even less capable of fleeing the obvious danger barreling toward her. Fortunately he must not have been expecting an answer to his question because he just continued on, “That means we know when we’re being played. In BDSM circles, that stunt you just pulled is known as topping from the bottom.”
“And just so you know, sweet cheeks, there isn’t a Dom worth his salt that will allow a sub to get away with that kind of behavior. Do you know why?” Sage’s words might have sounded soft, but his tone had been laced with an unmistakable steel. This time she managed to shake her head, but he just waited. Their lack of response confused her until she remembered the last time they’d been together they had insisted she use words to answer questions. They had explained verbal responses were required to insure there wouldn’t be any misunderstandings between them.
“No, I don’t know why. But I’m too tired to worry about it this evening. Perhaps another day? This has been interesting, but I’m exhausted.” This time, when she stood, they were on their feet so quickly it startled her.
Sam reached for her wrist and pulled her close enough that she could feel the heat of his body washing over her, setting off tiny sparks of awareness over her skin. “What’s your safe word, Jen?” Suddenly her entire body began to tingle in anticipation. Traitor. “If you haven’t thought up one by now we’ll use the same stoplight system we used last time. Tell me what that means so I know you haven’t forgotten.” She recited the textbook version of the most common safety protocol used in BDSM play as if she were reading it from an invisible book in her head, because that was basically what was happening. She’d done plenty of research into the lifestyle, but knowing and doing were two very different things. When she’d finished he simply nodded before stepping back from her. He crossed his arms over his chest and just watched her for several seconds. She met his eyes and was surprised to see them dilated with arousal. She could feel the flush from her chest was snaking its way up her throat and her heart was beating so wildly she was worried it was going to pound right out of her chest.
*****
Letting his gaze move slowly over her, Sam was fighting two different battles. First, he needed to ensure he and Sage gave Jen exactly what she needed in this moment. Wild monkey sex was unquestionably one of the best ways he knew to burn off excess adrenaline, but that wasn’t what was best for her tonight. The second battle was purely
internal. Keeping a lid on his own desire to throw her on to the bed and sink as deep in her sweet heat as he could was going to require a level of control he wasn’t sure he had in his arsenal right now.
“Strip.” Her eyes had flashed with rebellion so quickly he probably would have missed it if he hadn’t been focused solely on her eyes. The woman was trained to read the non-verbal communication of others and that made her keenly aware of her own, and she was damned good at staging it, no denying that fact. But what everyone always seemed to forget was the eyes are the windows to the soul. He’d never understood other Doms’ restrictions on letting a sub meet their gaze because there were many ways to mask facial expressions, but the eyes still told the truth—even if it was but for a fraction of a heartbeat. And Jen’s blue beauties had just shouted “You want my submission? Earn it.” Well, my lovely pet…game on.
Chapter Five
Sage hadn’t missed the fire that danced in Jen’s eyes when Sam had ordered her to strip, and he knew full well Sam hadn’t either. In the future those couple seconds of hesitation before following an order would earn her a few extra swats. But right now, watching her pull his over-sized shirt over her head had been well worth the wait. The air conditioning in their room was barely keeping up so he knew the shiver that raced over her ivory exquisiteness wasn’t from being cold. The woman standing naked in front of him was as close to physical perfection as Sage had ever seen. Her long blonde hair hung in soft waves down her back, and it seemed to have been woven from a hundred different shades of yellow silk. The dim amber bulbs in the hotel’s ancient fixtures highlighting each one of the distinct hues, and he wondered if the gods always conspired to make a woman appear perfect to the men who were destined to fall in love with them.