Touch: The Complete Series

by Cara Dee

  Down to chuckles myself, I wipe my cheeks and beam at my friend. "Seriously, Evangeline. I'm really happy for you guys. I'd ask you all kinds of questions at the dinner table, but I'm pretty sure Master will have me kneeling at his feet. Mouth shut." I smile ruefully, zip my mouth, and throw away the key. "I'll definitely listen in to the rest of you, though."

  She scrunches her nose at that. "You seem to be under the impression I'm telling Master and Brayden before dinner."

  "Duh." I narrow my eyes. "When else were you gonna do it?"

  "Umm…." She bites her lip. "I was thinking tomorrow morning when we get home."

  "That’s funny." Only, I'm not laughing. "I know you well enough to know you're a smart chick. This is just overwhelming for you and obviously causing you not to think clearly. So, lemme help." I place my hands on my hips. "What does RACK stand for?"

  She frowns, confused. "Risk-Aware Consensual Kink."

  "Mmhmm." I raise a brow and fold my arms across my chest. "And how aware of risks can your Dom be if he doesn’t know you're carrying a baby?"

  "Oh, shit." She pales.

  I feel for her. I do. But there's no way I'm going down to Master's dungeon with her, knowing she's pregnant. Knowing that her men don’t know. It wouldn’t be safe.

  "I'm horrible." Her bottom lip trembles and she looks down. "Oh my God, I'm horrible—"

  "Hey." I cut her off gently but firmly, placing a hand on her shoulder for comfort. "None'a that shit. Chin up, buttercup." I nudge hers up. "You're amazing, Evangeline. You're smart and loving. You're also human. You're overwhelmed and nervous. You forgot. Simple as that."

  She wipes away her tears and hiccups. "An emotional mess is what I am."

  Sounds like me the past couple of weeks. "See? Another reason you're not thinking clearly," I say, lightening the mood. "You're too busy crying."

  She snorts at that but offers me a small smile. "Thanks, Chelsea. Really." Then she sighs, her shoulders drooping. "Guess I should tell them, huh?"

  "No time like the present." I smirk, and then cup my hands around my mouth and holler out. "Master Cooper! Brayden!"

  "Jesus," Evangeline hisses, shoots me a quick scowl, and then she's busy straightening her hair, wiping her cheeks some more, and adjusting her clothes.

  Her men appear in the doorway seconds later, and Master's right behind.

  I point to Evangeline. "She's got news."

  Not wanting to crowd the lovely trio, I walk over to Master in the doorway while Brayden and Master Cooper stalk over to Evangeline, lookin' confused and worried.

  "What's up, kitten?" Master Cooper asks, concerned.

  That’s the last I hear from them. They stand close and speak in hushed tones.

  "Something wrong?" Master asks quietly.

  I shake my head no and hug his middle. "Everything's perfect, Owner." I smile at Evangeline and her two men. "She's pregnant."

  That oughta make their playtime interesting the coming months. I've been in the lifestyle long enough to know BDSM can be perfectly safe for a pregnant woman, as long as they stay away from…well, most of Evangeline's favorite activities. Pain, predicament bondage, being squished between the men she loves…but I have a feeling it'll be hella worth it.

  "Well, I'll be damned." Master holds me a little tighter, and I watch as both Brayden and Master Cooper move in to hug their girl. There are tears, beaming smiles, two proud daddies-to-be, kisses, and more murmurs between them. "I take it this is…good news?"

  "Of course." I grin and tilt up my face to look him in the eye. "Look how happy they are."

  He stares at me intently, seeming to debate something internally. "Yes, but…but what I mean is…do you think it's good news only for them, or…in general?"

  My brows knit together, and I stare at him confused before it slowly dawns on me. Had I not understood, I know he'd be more direct, 'cause my Master has no issues being straightforward. But I do get it, and I'm pretty damn sure he's basically wondering if I want kids.

  "Personally—" Master clears his throat, appearing uncharacteristically nervous. "I've barely dared to dream of what Mark and Brayden are feeling right now."

  Holy shit. My heart jumps up in my throat.

  I peer up at him and refuse to cry. "I mean it's good news in the sense that I'm happy for them and hope you'll do more than dream about it one day."

  The look he gives me is one of wonder and amazement, as if he almost can't believe it.

  "Just when I thought I couldn’t possibly get any happier." He palms my cheeks and kisses me on the forehead. Then a kiss to my nose. My chin. My cheeks, and traitorous emotions threaten to surface. "Christ, I love you."

  He draws me impossibly closer, and I smile widely as he finally captures my mouth with his. Standing on my toes, I kiss him back with everything I am and bask in the warmth he provides.

  Like I said earlier. Everything is perfect. In Master, I have found everything I've ever wanted and never had. Someone to submit to completely, all-consuming love, someone I can grow and share dreams with. Someone who gives me both pain and comfort.

  So fucking perfect.

  Behind the Scenes

  Touching Truth, Part IV

  Greg Cooper

  "Daddy, look!" Abby points excitedly down the beach where two flamingoes land gracefully in the shallow water. "They're so pretty."

  "Not as pretty as you." I smile and sit down in the sand with a juice box for her, knees pulled up a bit so I can rest my forearms on them.

  She blushes and flashes me a simpering smile before returning to chasing waves. Or perhaps they're chasing her. Peals of laughter fill the air whenever a wave splashes water on her sun-kissed body.

  "That was a big one!" She grins and runs over to plop down next to me. "How come the sand is so white here?"

  "You know, I haven't the slightest idea. We can look it up when we get back to the hotel." I dig out a small bottle of sun block from the pocket of my cargo shorts and pour a generous amount into my hand. "You don't want to try out the pool?"

  After ten days in tropical Aruba, she's barely glanced at the massive pool at the hotel. She absolutely loves the beach and its white sand and turquoise waters.

  "Nuh-uh." She turns her back to me so I can apply some more lotion. "Where's Mom?"

  "Resting a bit." Our hotel is a five-minute golf-cart drive inland, so we've rented a cabana for our lazy days on the beach. Blinding sun, heat, and salt water make us grownups sleepy here and there. "I remember when you used to take naps with me on the couch at home."

  "But I'm a big girl now, Daddy," she states, almost scolding me. "Napping is for babies."

  I smirk, making sure to get her neck, too. "There, all done."

  "Thank you," she sings. She adjusts the straps of her purple bathing suit. "I'm thirsty. Can I—"

  "Ah, sorry. Almost forgot." I brush some sand off the juice box I brought her and hand it over. "Should be cold, still."

  "Yummm. Thank you." The tip of her tongue pokes out when she concentrates on punching a hole in the little circle of foil with her straw. Too adorable. "Are you all better now from the accident so we can swim in the deeper water?"

  "I am, darling. I thought I could take you snorkeling tomorrow. How's that?" It's been a couple days since I removed the bandages around my head, and the bruise under my eye has mostly faded. I have to keep Ryan's mark hidden from the sun, so I dress it or leave a T-shirt on. Based on the story Tess gave Abby, the concealed wound on the inside of my bicep is related to the "accident."

  My jaw is certainly still sore, but not enough to keep me away from more physical activities. I'm doing a decent job stalling and postponing the inevitable, and for some very unknown reason, I'd like to try some outdoorsy things—to see if I have what it takes.

  "Yeah, can we snorkel all day?" Abby asks, and then she makes her funny face. Eyes crossed, brows furrowed hard, head cocked, and mouth pinched like she's bit into a lemon.

  I chuckle and mimic her, earnin
g myself a loud giggle from her. "We can snorkel until Daddy gets tired."

  "Okay, don't get tired," she replies frankly. "I want to send a picture of a turtle to Evie."

  Hmm, I'm unfamiliar with that name, and I thought I knew all her friends. "Is that a friend from school?"

  "Silly!" she laughs. "She watched me after school!"

  Ah. Evangeline. I do recall Abby struggled to pronounce her name. "Right, of course." I manage a stiff smile.

  "Mom says she is together with Uncle Mark," she goes on happily. "She gots two boyfriends now also. But, Daddy? Why won't she watch me anymore?"

  Because I had her fired.

  I didn’t personally speak to Evangeline; I was busy freaking out over the failure of my personal life. Tess took care of that call.

  "Let me ask you something else first." I do my utmost to sound upbeat, probably failing miserably. "What do you think about someone having two boyfriends or girlfriends?"

  She squints in the sun and scrunches her nose. "I dunno. Nana has two boyfriends and a Pop-Pop. I don’t want that. So gross!"

  I feel oddly stricken by her words, and my face falls slightly before I snap out of it, because I agree with her. Oh, you lousy liar. Well, I used to believe the very same. Polyamory isn't normal yet, therefore not accepted.

  "Why—" I clear my throat as my stomach knots uncomfortably. "Why would it be gross?"

  "Because boys are yucky."

  I stare at her blankly, only to let out a breathy laugh of sheer relief. Good Christ, I should be smarter than that. It's not the number of boyfriends she's bothered with; it's the fact that it's boys. The truth of the matter is, polyamory is normal to her. She's been around my parents' strange family structure since birth.

  Mark has joined the same ranks now. I'm hardly surprised by that. If anything he's done has surprised me, it was when he married Alexa. Although she was as open about her kinky lifestyle as my little brother is, her passion for BDSM was skin-deep. Naturally submissive, no doubt, but not into the high protocol like Mark. I'm fairly untrained where that terminology is concerned, but I do believe that means he's very strict and demanding. Which means my daughter's former babysitter is a submissive, and what of her boyfriend? Brayden, was it? Perhaps another sub.

  I tug on my ear, scratching it, and think of the miles-long list of epic screw-ups I need to tend to.

  Tess is waiting on the top of that list.

  *

  "I'm so full," Abby complains.

  And visibly exhausted, I note. The hotel we're staying at is a golf and spa resort. There are only a handful other children present in the restaurant on the terrace by the pool, and I don’t think the other guests are too keen on having a seven-year-old getting fussy during their dinner. Scooting out my chair a bit, I pat my lap, and Abby bounces right over to me. If she's declining dessert, she is ready to pass out.

  She blinks sleepily and settles in for a cuddle.

  "She is such a daddy's girl." Tess smiles indulgently and takes a sip of her wine.

  I wink at her, knowing very well our daughter has a special bond with Tess that I'll most likely never experience. Thick as thieves, best friends, that’s what they are.

  "You look like you're feeling better," she comments.

  I nod slowly. "I'm getting there."

  "Does that mean you can face your own firing squad soon? Your family keeps calling me, you know."

  I wave a hand, dismissive, and reach for my beer. "Ignore them."

  "That might work for you."

  It does, indeed. Over the years, Tess has become my middleman. I don’t attend all family functions; she does. If she's available, she's there.

  "Greg…" Tess leans forward a little and smiles knowingly, softly. "The other week, you all but pleaded with me to go away with you. You needed time to think, and you wanted to talk. And now…time is sort of running out, honey. We're going home in four days. There's no room for ignoring any longer."

  Goddammit. She's been far too patient with me.

  Alerting a waiter, I press a kiss to Abby's head and smile ruefully at Tess. "Why is the truth so hard?"

  She shrugs lightly and finishes her wine. "Because it kills?"

  Good grief. "Only you can reference a philosopher to me and get away with it."

  "If the truth shall kill them, let them die."

  Tess blows me a quick kiss, and I chuckle. In many ways, she's much the same as when we met in college. Quietly accepting, never one to make a fuss. She has a great inner peace one can only admire. She certainly fit in when we ended up taking the same course in philosophy—for me, a part of political science. For her, an interest. We argued endlessly, long enough for me to forget everyone at home. She became my reprieve.

  After requesting to have the check added to our room, we make our way through the gardens toward our apartment complex.

  "Drinks on the balcony?" she suggests.

  I nod, knowing I'll need a drink or two. "I'll put Abby to bed."

  Ten minutes later, we meet up on the balcony where Tess has dug out the bottle of Amaretto we bought the other day. A candle flickers on the low table in front of the love seat, and the expansive view of the golf course reveals nothing but darkness at this hour.

  I sit down with a sigh and breathe in the scents of the ocean, after-sun lotions—that somehow insist on being coconut-flavored—and freshly cut grass.

  "Thank you." I accept a glass of the amber liquid and let my eyes adjust to the dark. "I'm…I'm not sure where to begin."

  She takes a sip, then rests her head on my shoulder. "Whatever it is, I hope it leads to you coming out of hiding. It's time the rest of the world sees the real you, Greg."

  My brow furrows, and I look at the drink, swirling it slowly. The knot in my stomach has returned with a vengeance, because I know the truth will kill. Namely, our marriage. Our illusions and our façade.

  "I've met someone." Two someones. Two beautiful someones I can't forget or move on from. Two beloved Sadists who are my complete opposites and would turn my world upside down more than they already have if I let go of everything I know.

  Tess lets out a soft, ragged breath but doesn’t move from her position. "I know," she whispers. "It's been months since you started pulling away from me."

  I blink past the sudden sting in my eyes and take a long swig from the bittersweet liqueur. "I'm sorry," I cough. I'm fucking sorry, my dear. "I thought—I thought I could get past it."

  "God, Greg. You think everything is an itch you can scratch away." Releasing another breath, Tess straightens and sets her drink on the table. Then she stands up. "If the truths are spilling out—at long last—here's one of mine. I smoke on occasion, so now I'm going to get the pack I keep hidden in my makeup case."

  I frown deeply, too anxious to reprimand her for putting herself at risk, but that doesn’t mean I won't bring it up later. Later. I feel too awful now. People with educated guesses and fair assumptions can call me a cheater all day, and it won't hurt as much as my betraying the one vow Tess and I made to each other when we married. To always be truthful. We knew what we were getting ourselves into. Two different souls aiming for a box that never fit us. But normal is easy. Or, it's supposed to be.

  In more ways than one, I have cheated. Just not in the conventional way most believe. When I told my brother it's not what it looks like, I wasn’t lying.

  Tess returns, lighting up a cigarette on the way, and takes a drag from it before leaning against the balcony railing.

  "So what's wrong with this person you've met?" she wonders, facing the night. "They must be different for you to think it would pass as a phase."

  She knows me well. Knows my need for normal well. "Emphasis on they," I admit. "It's a married couple."

  She lets out a wry chuckle. "The irony. Or maybe it's karma. Your family will be mind-blown."

  It's none of their fucking business. I only care about making things right with Tess at this point. She's been my shield for almost twenty years w
hile I've been her safe port. Her background isn't alternative as much as it's abusive. With me, she found a place to heal—with a man who wouldn’t take advantage or carry a secret agenda. We've been amazing companions, up until I met Ryan and Angel and I stopped sharing the truth with the one person I promised to always give it to.

  "You love them, don't you? This couple you've met." Tess studies me with an open, curious expression. "I don’t see you walking away from everything you've built with me otherwise."

  I hesitate, then nod once and finish my drink. Jesus, I think I actually do love Ryan and Angel. How else can it physically hurt to be away from them?

  "Abby still comes first, Tess," I tell her quietly. "I'm not walking away from anything she's not okay with."

  "Oh, Greg." She sighs heavily and stubs out her cigarette. "Under normal circumstances, no child is okay with their parents divorcing. She'll be far from alone, though. Half the children in her class have two homes." She sits down next to me again and refills our glasses. "You've rebelled against this long enough, honey. Perhaps you're not polyamorous by nature, but here you are. You're falling for two people. So maybe it's time to realize you've been fighting the wrong war."

  "What do you mean?"

  She quirks a weary smile. "You've been so set on fighting everything your parents do and say by doing the opposite. Nothing good comes of it." Clearly. Look where I am. "They hurt you by not being there for you, but that doesn’t mean their nature is wrong. It just means they went about it the wrong way. You can correct that. You can learn from their mistakes and create a healthy environment for our girl—all while getting what you want."

  That’s much like what Ryan told me.

  I squint down at my drink, ever so reluctant to admit I'm wrong. Dead wrong, in this case. I've been so angry and resentful that I've pushed away people rather than speak my mind.

  "What about you?" I side-eye her, concerned. Abby's not my only priority. I won't leave Tess behind, either. "Have you been…I don’t know, seeing anyone?" It's unlikely, given her history, but…

  "My biggest offense was keeping my smoking from you." She snorts into her drink. "I haven't changed. I'm the happiest when I'm alone."