by Mari Carr
“Us, Tess. Remember?” he asked, throwing her word from their first night together back at her. As he did so, Isaiah tossed the tube of lubrication toward her. She caught it in midair, grinning widely when he turned his back to her and bent over, lifting his ass.
“Me? Um…”
Isaiah looked over his shoulder, watched Caden give her a very sweet, encouraging kiss on the cheek. Tess never gave them half measures. She’d been all in since the beginning, giving them everything she had to offer, including her virginity. This was no different.
She opened the tube, pressing the tip of it to his ass. Isaiah shivered slightly when the cool lubrication filled him.
“Use your fingers to coat him with it,” Caden instructed.
Tess must have sensed Isaiah’s need because she started with two fingers rather than one. He groaned and forced himself to concentrate on maintaining control.
She pressed in and out for several minutes, stretching him, adding a third on Caden’s command.
Isaiah rested his forehead on the mattress and sucked in some much-needed air. Caden thought he was in control…but he was about to learn otherwise.
“Add a little more lube,” Caden commanded. “Then give him four of your fingers. Stretch him good.”
Isaiah glanced over his shoulder when he heard a small squeak from Tess. Caden was kneeling behind her, his arms wrapped around her, both hands stroking her pussy—one toying with her clit while he penetrated her with a few fingers of his own—as he watched her work with Isaiah’s ass.
“Fuck,” Isaiah muttered. The image of his lovers and the feeling of Tess’ fingers were too much. Maybe he wasn’t as in control as he thought. Time to grab the upper hand back. He pushed himself up, dislodging her fingers as he did so.
Caden started to order him back down, but Isaiah cut him off. “That’s enough. I’m ready.”
Then he pressed on his lover’s shoulders, pushing Caden to his back and coming over him. He could see Caden’s confusion, and he understood it. Caden had obviously spent the previous few minutes building the scene in a different direction. Isaiah wasn’t going to let him take the easy way out, let him pretend this was anything other than what it was.
Lovers. Fucking.
Tess moved next to Caden, laying on her side. She reached between them, to where Isaiah’s erection was pressed against Caden’s. She took turns stroking their hard lengths.
Isaiah tried to prolong the moment, but he couldn’t wait. Not another fucking second.
He pushed up, crouching over Caden’s hips.
“What the fuck?” Caden said.
Isaiah ignored him, lining his lover’s cock up with his anus.
“Isaiah—” Whatever argument he might have made was cut off, and Caden lay motionless as Isaiah slowly pressed down, taking in every thick inch.
No one in the room breathed until Caden was fully lodged inside his ass.
“Oh,” Tess breathed as she watched. “Wow.”
Caden frowned, his head shaking just once. “This is too intense, Isaiah. Too…real. The other way. From behind.” His short, choppy phrases proved just how much Caden was struggling to catch his breath.
Isaiah would have smiled if he’d had the ability, but his feelings echoed Caden’s words. He’d never been with a man this way—face-to-face.
Then he forced himself to admit the truth—even if it was only to himself—about the way he’d really felt when Caden had gone all Dom on them in the pub. It had touched some very small, deeply buried place inside that liked the idea of submitting to the other man.
“Ever heard the term power bottom?” Isaiah asked.
“Fuck.”
“Just a few thrusts, Cade. Let me just…” Rather than continue to barter, Isaiah moved on autopilot, a slave to his darkest desires. He pressed upwards until Caden’s cock was almost out and let go of all restraints. His thigh muscles bunched and clenched as he gave them one hell of a workout, pressing down with all the strength he could muster.
Caden remained motionless, fighting to accept it. Isaiah needed this. Needed to take this man, show him what he wanted them to be, but more than that, he needed to show Caden he wouldn’t be a pet.
That was the word. The one feeling that had remained from Caden’s actions in the pub. Isaiah wouldn’t be kept.
Wouldn’t be a slave.
He pressed down harder. Faster. He had no idea what Caden saw on his face, but he’d clearly given something away.
“I’m sorry,” Caden said, his eyes soft, sad.
Isaiah faltered for a second, then realized he must have spoken aloud.
Tess was kneeling next to him, her hand stroking up and down his back. “You aren’t a pet. Aren’t a slave.”
Isaiah’s legs failed him. And that was when Caden read the rest, realized what else was going on inside his head. He gave him what he needed. He tightened his grip on Isaiah’s hips and lifted up, pushed to the hilt.
Isaiah found his rhythm again and this time, Caden met him thrust for thrust, driving his hips up, using his hands on Isaiah to add more force to the pounding fuck. A trickle of sweat rolled down Caden’s cheek, his muscles bunching as he gripped Isaiah roughly. He grunted on one particularly deep thrust.
“Fuck. Jesus,” Caden cursed and Isaiah could tell he was close.
Caden’s came first, but only by mere seconds, his come filling Isaiah’s ass.
Isaiah fell forward, moving to the right at the last minute, claiming Caden’s left side.
“I’m sorry,” Caden repeated. “I didn’t mean—”
Isaiah rose up and cut off the apology he didn’t need or want with a kiss. “I know you didn’t.”
The three of them lay side by side for several quiet moments, letting the intensity of what had just occurred sink in, the dust settle.
Tess, as always, knew exactly what to say. “Well,” she said, in her adorably sardonic way. “That was enlightening.”
The three of them cracked up, laughing as Caden remarked, “You can say that again.”
Then he glanced over at Isaiah, Caden’s smile—so often absent—taking his breath away.
“Can we go to sleep now, ’Saiah, or do you have any other kinky urges you need fulfilled immediately?”
Isaiah loved the way Caden said his name, shortening it. Tess giggled, but the sound was cut short by a yawn.
“I think I’m good for a few hours,” he said, certain he wasn’t going to roll over until noon tomorrow. He had aches in muscles he wasn’t sure he’d ever used before.
“Good,” Caden mumbled sleepily, his eyes already closed.
“Night,” Tess whispered, reaching out to hold Isaiah’s hand, both of them linking fingers on Caden’s chest.
Isaiah closed his eyes, thinking the words he desperately wanted to say aloud.
I love you.
Chapter Fourteen
Caden listened as Gail continued to “talk shop” with Isaiah about all the improvements in the works as far as renovations to Monticello were going. Apparently, Isaiah was a prominent member of the Thomas Jefferson Foundation, and a great deal of his research regarding the third president and his affair with Sally Hemings was being used as part of the information shared with visitors to the famous estate.
Gail had mentioned more than a few times that she was convinced their sharp increase in visitors was directly a result of Isaiah’s books. Tourism was at an all-time high, and she remarked that it was rare to not have someone mention his fictional detective during one of the guided tours.
Isaiah had managed to secure the private after-hours tour by claiming he needed a bit of time to study the parlor in order to get the description right in the book he was currently writing. Gail had nearly had an apoplexy when she heard Monticello was actually going to be part of the setting of the next story. Caden knew it was a lie because Isaiah had alluded to having a bit of writer’s block.
They’d arrived an hour or so early, wandering through the gift shop and gra
bbing some homemade soup from the sandwich shop at the visitor’s center.
The problem with Gail’s outright fan worship was that she wouldn’t leave them alone during the private tour. Isaiah had dropped no less than half a dozen subtle hints about needing to take notes, but the woman had missed every single one, constantly lobbing question after question at him.
Mercifully, after a mind-numbing hour, Gail’s phone rang. “Oh my. It’s my husband. I put him in charge of dinner and the kids. I should have known better.” She excused herself to take the call, stepping out of the room.
“Move fast,” Caden said. “I don’t think she’s going to leave you alone for long.”
“Jealous?” Isaiah teased.
Caden rolled his eyes, patting Isaiah’s ass with enough force to make it sting. “Behave.”
Isaiah laughed, ignoring Caden’s warning. Tess reacted the same way whenever he tried to correct her.
After so many years as a Dom to be feared, Caden couldn’t decide if he was relieved or annoyed by their complete obliviousness to his commands. Everything he said just bounced off them.
“I’ll keep watch at the door. If Gail comes back, I’ll ask her to show me to the restroom.” Tess moved into position as lookout as Caden and Isaiah stepped over the belt held in place by two stanchion posts.
“This one is ‘Hope with Cupid.’ Jefferson gave it to his daughter, Martha. It’s one of the few original pieces that managed to remain in the Jefferson family’s possession.”
“Sort of like the poem that’s remained in Tess’ family.”
Isaiah nodded. “There’s definitely been some serious effort expended in keeping these artifacts accessible to the right people.”
They leaned close to the statue, studying it. Caden pulled out his cell and flashed his Droid light on it. “Seems to me if there’s a clue, it’s not going to be visible to the naked eye. This place has thousands of visitors through here every year.”
Isaiah agreed. “Yeah.” Tess had picked up a black light among other things when they were at the Smithsonian, figuring they should be prepared to try anything.
The black light revealed nothing, so Caden reached out, intent on turning the statue around.
“What are you doing?” Isaiah asked, aghast. A quick glance toward Tess proved she was just as horrified.
Caden snorted. “You freaking history buffs are all alike. It’s a porcelain statue without a speck of dust on it. You think there’s not someone in the place touching it at least every few weeks or so to clean it? I’m not going to break the damn thing.”
He turned the statue around carefully and they flashed the lights on the back as well. Still nothing.
Caden gave Isaiah a shit-eating grin. “You gonna lose your shit if I lift the thing up?”
Isaiah shot him a dirty look. “Don’t drop it.”
They tilted it over, revealing the bottom. Tess apparently figured out she was missing all the good stuff and left her post, leaning in close as well.
“It’s made of biscuit,” she said.
When Caden gave her a curious look, she explained, “Unglazed soft paste porcelain.”
Caden turned his attention back to the statue. “Not sure how anyone could write something in porcelain that wouldn’t have already been seen.”
“I know, but maybe we can feel—” Tess stopped, moving closer to the statue. “What’s that…crack?” She ran her fingernail over the bottom and several paint chips fell away.
They all exchanged glances of surprise, but said nothing as Tess continued to chip away at the paint.
“No one ever explored this?” Caden murmured aloud.
Isaiah didn’t find that fact particularly shocking. “No historian is going to set out to destroy an artifact. At a glance, that paint matched the porcelain perfectly and that just looked like a hairline crack in the glaze. Besides, this statue isn’t valuable monetarily, just historically. If it were, it would be under glass in an art museum. These biscuit statues were very popular in Jefferson’s time, mass produced even. I doubt anyone’s really paid it much attention other than to keep it here to add to the authenticity of the historical period.”
“Whoa,” Tess whispered.
“What is it?” Caden asked, trying to peer over her shoulder.
“A series of letters. Scratched lightly into the porcelain. Six of them.” She nodded toward the phone in Caden’s hand. “Write these down as I call them out.”
He opened up notes and started to type in the letters.
“MCEXDX.”
“What the hell is that?” Caden asked.
Isaiah carefully dusted the paint chips into his palm, tucking them into his pocket to hide the evidence of what they’d done. “I don’t know, but the clue on the fan seemed to point to both statues. We’re running out of time. Let’s see if there are letters on the bottom of the Venus statue as well. Maybe we need both sets to make sense of them.”
They crossed the parlor and waited with growing impatience as Tess scraped away the paint. There, scratched on the bottom, were six more letters. Caden added them to the others as she called them out. “PEOPPC.”
Isaiah had just cleaned up their second mess, the three of them climbing back over the stanchion belt, when Gail returned to the room.
“Well,” Isaiah said, “I think I’ve got all I need.”
Gail looked disappointed to hear they were finished. She walked with them toward the exit. They’d parked their car in the lower lot, so they said their goodbyes at the door to Monticello and walked the half mile back to the visitors’ center.
As they walked, they tried to puzzle out the letters. “The first six could be Roman numerals,” Tess suggested. “Except for the E, of course.”
“I thought the second set was going to spell out the word people when you were calling them out,” Isaiah said. “You think it’s an anagram?”
“Possibly.” Caden had considered the same thing as well.
“When we get back to the hotel, we’ll play around with them. See if we can come up with something that makes sense,” Tess suggested.
Dusk was just setting in as they reached the bottom of the hill, so they headed through the lighted visitors’ center courtyard toward the dark parking lot. The place was deserted at this hour, their car the only one in the lot. Isaiah had stopped at the entrance to grab a map of the park from a brochure rack, claiming the letters could possibly point to another place on the grounds.
Caden paused on the sidewalk to turn on the flashlight on his phone when he was briefly blinded by a sudden light.
A car he hadn’t seen turned on its high beams at the same time it peeled tires and headed toward them. Tess was a few steps ahead of him, starting across the road to the parking lot.
Caden started toward her, intent on pushing her out of the way, but the car was already there.
His life passed before his eyes as he heard Tess scream.
She tried to move out of the way, but wasn’t quick enough. At the last minute, she jumped, but the corner of the vehicle struck her left thigh and she went flying along the hood, slamming into the left windshield before sliding to the pavement.
The car never hit the brakes—and that was when Caden realized it was a black town car, just like the one he’d seen in New York.
He started to chase after it, hoping to get the license plate number, but the car was moving too fast, and it was too dark.
When he turned around, Isaiah was kneeling next to Tess, who was trying to sit up.
“Stay down,” Caden said, as he rushed to her side. “I’m calling for an ambulance.”
“No,” she winced as she sat up. “I’m fine.”
Isaiah wrapped his arm around her shoulders to hold her up. “We’re going to let a doctor tell us that, Tess.”
She gave him a pained grin and pushed herself up, standing on unsteady legs. She shifted her weight a few times and wiggled her arms and fingers as if doing a personal inventory. “Caden didn’t hav
e to go to the hospital when that guy bashed him over the head.” She looked at Caden. “You said you were fine. You’re going to have to trust me to know the same thing. I’m sore and I’m probably going to be black and blue tomorrow, but nothing is broken. Couple of Advil, some ice, and a bed. I can deal with it. Honest.”
“Tess—” Caden started.
“Never been hit by a car,” she said, her voice weak even as she tried to joke away what had just happened. “Kind of cool, when you think of it. And the way I jumped up and slid along the hood. Makes me sort of badass, right? It was like something you’d see in a movie.” She looked at Isaiah. “You should write that into your next book. Nerdy Evie could get hit by a car. It would up her coolness factor.”
“Jesus, Tess,” Isaiah muttered. “I just lost twenty years off my life. Too soon on the jokes.”
Caden watched as Isaiah placed a supportive arm around her waist, the two of them slowly making their way toward the car. Isaiah was still pushing for her to let them drive her to the emergency room, but Tess refused.
Caden remained in place, his blood turning to ice as he replayed the car striking her over and over.
The Hancocks. This was their doing.
A murderous rage filled him as he plotted exactly how he would kill the senator and his wife. They wouldn’t get the privilege of dying fast. He’d regretted the lack of suffering he’d allowed Elroy and Barton. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
He forced himself to walk to the car and somehow, he managed to contain the red-hot fury pulsing through him.
Isaiah and Tess, as always, seemed in tune with his current frame of mind. As such, they remained silent on the ride back to the hotel.
Isaiah drove, while Caden sat in the back with Tess. She was putting up a brave front, but he knew she hurt all over. He never took his gaze off her as he forced himself to breathe, concentrating on every inhale and exhale until they finally made it back to the resort.
Several hours later, Caden still paced the floor of the suite, trying to push down the anxiety that had plagued him since they’d returned from Monticello.
