Mastered By The Mavericks

by Angel Payne

  “Wow.” Her ex stood back and raked an admiring glance over her trendy romper and knee-high boots. “And you’re doing the living and breathing thing quite well.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re so full of shit. But I guess that’s what it takes to be the world’s hottest CEO. What’s it really like, on the dark side?”

  He took a swing at the eye rolling thing. “A lot of work.” His tone was heavy with that truth. “But hell, it’s never a dull day—and Tess is grateful I’m not running through burning buildings and dodging bullets anymore.”

  “CIA’s loss; Colton Steel’s gain.” She winked to finish off the jibe, knowing that part of him would always pine a little for his days with the Agency, feeling like he’d made a real difference in the world. One day, he’d hopefully see that creating jobs in a fair, positive atmosphere was an equally awesome way to give back to his world.

  But she wasn’t here to play shrink on the man. God knew, she’d already attempted to do that too much already—and had psychoanalyzed all the magic out of their relationship. Or perhaps had tried too hard to inject some in…

  “First things first. How are Zoe, Shay, and the baby?”

  Her smile grew. “Mommy, Daddy, and little Selene are awesome. She’s so beautiful. Truly the best baby in the world.”

  “Says her favorite auntie?”

  “Mmmm…perhaps. I can show you pictures at lunch. I think I have a few saved.”

  “Just a few?” He laughed deeply, showcasing the dimples in his jaw, before tucking her hand beneath his elbow. “I’ve made a reservation at the Lakeside.” He proffered his elbow. “Shall we?”

  After they were seated at a table on the patio overlooking the hotel’s impressive manmade lake, they each picked an item from the specials of the day as recited by the waiter, making it possible to set aside the menus and refocus on the conversation. That was a good thing. Dan fidgeted like a kid about to face shots at the doctor’s office.

  “Okay, big guy.” Brynn leaned back in her chair a little. “Out with it. What’s up?”

  Dan loosened his tie. Pulled in a deep breath. “I need to know…that we’re okay.” He groaned and scrubbed his face. “No. Wait. That sucked. Scratch that. Do-over?”

  A giggle spilled out. It was one of their little private jokes, and it brought back some nice memories. Despite the downfall of their romantic relationship, they’d always been rock-solid friends. “Granted,” she offered, taking a sip of sparkling water. “Besides, it’s kind of fun to watch you squirm.”

  He scowled. “I deserved that.”

  She copied the look. “Bullshit.”

  “I’m sorry. For everything.”

  Well, that diffused her remaining sarcasm. With a weighted breath of her own, she reached for his hand. “Don’t be.”

  He pressed his other hand atop hers. His gaze darkened to the indigo of the lake’s waters. “You put up with a lot of grief from me, Brynn. After the fire, during my rehab, dealing with this,”—he lifted his hand to smack at his scars, once an area he’d treated like a patch of leprosy—“I was a messed-up fuck.”

  Brynn tilted her head. The move accomplished its goal: getting him to look directly at her again. “And I was an advanced-level psych student who should’ve known that.” She lifted a soft smile. “Both of us used the relationship to escape our shit. I guess it beat booze and drugs, yeah?”

  Dan flashed a grin that deserved its own trademark. “Sure,” he murmured. “I guess.”

  She shifted back as the food arrived. Dan had ordered pistachio-encrusted salmon, and she was damn glad she’d decided to splurge on an Italian picnic plate, with gourmet cheeses, olives, and bread next to a rustic salad layered with berries and nuts. After the waiter left, Dan angled back toward small talk, questioning, “I’ve heard that you’re opting for full-time school come next month. I couldn’t be prouder of you.”

  She nodded while spearing an olive then a slice of soft cheese. The salt and cream were perfect together. “I’m finally getting a little bit of state aid for Enya, so financially, it’s possible.”

  “She’s still struggling?”

  She spread some of the cheese onto a slice of bread, glad for the chance to twist her lips in private. “Yeah. She is. But in some ways…this is going to sound weird, but…I think I understand it a little better.”

  She raised her head, suddenly emboldened. She’d been wanting to talk to someone about all this so badly, and maybe Dan was the perfect person. Who said she had to mention names?

  “You see, a…friend of mine…was just involved in a brief D/s thing, too. I mean, she’s the last person you’d expect to do something like that—and she wasn’t looking for it or anything—”

  “Of course not.” Dan returned her stare with one of friendly interest. Whew. She was really capable of this—and felt like a genie suddenly freed from a bottle for it.

  “Like I said, it just happened.” Okay, that part was probably rushed, but Dan still didn’t even quirk an brow of suspicion. “She wasn’t at a club, or anything like that.”

  Dan’s lips twitched. “It happens outside clubs all the time, Brynna.”

  “Right? And she’s not somebody who would identify herself as a submissive, or anything close to it—except for how these guys affected her, when they were together. It just…felt good. It felt right. It felt…” She frantically fought the sting at the backs of her eyes. “Perfect.” The salad at the end of her fork was suddenly as appetizing as cat barf. “And now, nothing feels right or good or perfect at all.” She swallowed hard. Gritted her teeth, forcing emotional bleach through the aching heat in her blood. “For my friend, I mean.”

  Dan’s stillness compelled her head back up. She found him with a bite of neglected food on his own fork, training that stare on her. The one that never failed to read her mind, even when their relationship had started to falter. “Right.” One side of his mouth jerked up. “Your ‘friend’.”

  As he went for the onehanded air-quote, a blush crawled up her face. “Smart-ass.” She wadded her napkin and threw it at him.

  “Yep.” He grinned. “That would be me.” The expression turned sheepish as he returned the napkin, having gallantly refolded it. “The smart-ass…who’s been thinking about taking some more major steps in his life soon.”

  She seized the chance to do a little mindreading of her own. “As in…things that involve collars, rings, or both?”

  He chewed his salmon with a teasing smirk. “Perhaps.”

  Brynn let out a little squee. “I’m so happy for you, ya big dork. So that’s why you’re mysteriously in Vegas.”

  He nodded. “I met with Tess’s dad this this morning, to ask for her hand and shit.”

  “And shit.” She snorted out a laugh. “You do have a way with poetry, Colton.”

  “Guess you’re glad she’s taking me off your hands for good.”

  Back in her seat, Brynn playfully booted his knee. “She’s a lucky lady. I’m sure she knows it, too.”

  “Hopefully.” He shrugged. “I fly back tomorrow—but need to stop at her favorite jewelry boutique in town for a special order.”

  “She’s going to be thrilled.”

  “She thinks I’m just here schmoozing clients—but she also knows I wanted to meet with you. She’s been worried about us clearing the air with each other.”

  “Well, you can ease her mind now. We’re clear.” She pushed around the rest of her food, her appetite still not restored. Maybe she’d hit the gym on the way home. She belonged to a barre studio with a busy class schedule, and exhausting her body instead of her mind felt like a great idea, especially now. “And I’m…grateful.” She pushed up one last smile. “It took guts to reach out like this, Mr. Colton. Thank you.”

  It was the prime opportunity for another charming Colton comeback. Didn’t happen. Dan seemed to turn her words over carefully before squaring his shoulders and leaning forward in his chair. “Mr. Colton? So formal, after just declaring how ‘c
lear’ we are?”

  She snorted. “You complaining about a little respect now?”

  “Just saying it might be better directed elsewhere. Like at them.”

  She followed the line cast out by his knowing nod.

  Until her gaze locked on two figures, poised on the bottom step of the restaurant’s sweeping staircase.

  A pirate.

  A Viking.

  Both in attire that perfectly fit the red carpet upon which they stood.

  “Holy…shit.” She didn’t know what stunned her more: seeing both of them here to begin with, or seeing them here in cutaway tuxedoes.

  And did it matter?

  It didn’t.

  They were here.

  They were here.

  She pushed to her feet, yearning to just keep going, to throw herself into their arms and desperately beg them never to let her go again. But their faces were so stark, so tight, so unreadable. Was this just a coincidence? Were they in town for some fancy military awards thing, and had just come by to say hello to their buddy before the festivities? Okay, even that sounded beyond weird. If that was the case, why weren’t they in the dark blues of mess dress, with medal fruit salads across their chests? And why were they dressed like this in the middle of the damn day?

  No algorithm computed this. At all.

  She forced her mouth to close. Snapped a disbelieving gawk back at Dan. The handsome hotshot dared to answer with a grin she could only call coy. “Hawk and Z filled me in on the gang’s latest off-books adventure—in detailed splendor.”

  Now the algorithms lined up. “Oh.”

  “Oh?” The coy disappeared. In its place was the squared stance and folded arms of a man extremely comfortable with his dominant side. “That’s all you’re going to give me, girl, when I had to move the river to Moses in order to contact them in the field, just to get their blessing to speak to you today? When they moved the damn river back in order fly here no more than two hours after returning from that mission?”

  A gulp thudded down her throat. A mission. They’d been out on a mission for the last four months, likely humping it through the middle of nowhere. Was that the only reason she hadn’t heard from them since Austin? And now they’d flown straight here to see her…what the hell did that mean?

  Wait. Back the wicker basket way back up the Nile. Dan had pulled major strings to contact them during that mission…to ask for their “blessing”?

  Clearly, the three of them needed to talk.

  Not a hardship she was complaining about.

  She grabbed Dan by the hand again. Smiled up into his face with all the warmth that now filled her heart. As he curled up that movie idol grin in return, she murmured, “Thank you again. Tess really is a lucky woman.”

  “No more lucky than those bastards waiting on you. Now go. I’ll settle up here.”

  After she made it—somehow—to the space in front of Rhett and Rebel, she simply let herself revel in the perfection of them once more. Their scents, sage and cinnamon. Their eyes, North Sea and South Caribbean. Their faces, rugged and chiseled. They would never stop taking her breath away. No matter what happened right now—hell, even if they were here to invite her up the wedding salon to witness them take their vows—there were parts of them both that would always, always belong solely to her. Her heart knew it. Her spirit resounded with it.

  She finally molded her mouth around a word. “Hi.”

  Rhett stepped down first. Curled a strand of hair around the back of her ear. “Hey, sweet peach.”

  Rebel came down and did the same thing. “Bonjour, ma chatte.”

  Their greetings, like cream mixed into Creole coffee, zapped her adrenalin into all the best—and worst—parts of her body. Her nerves sizzled. Her blood tingled. And God, did her sex pulse back to life.

  Rhett trailed a hand to the back of her shoulder. Looked around the room like James Bond, checking the corners for shifty enemies. “We need to talk to you.”

  She didn’t hide the shiver his touch sent all the way down past her ass. “Yes, Sir.”

  “But not here.” Rebel did the secret spy glance too—completely not preparing her for his little bombshell of a follow-up. “We have a room. Let’s go.”

  By the time she recovered from the shock that they’d actually sprung for a room here, instead of bunking out at Nellis or in one of the less expensive properties in the city, they were ten floors into a thirty-floor ascent. The lovely string orchestra lilting over the speakers didn’t accomplish its goal of Zen tranquility—not in this tiny space, situated between her golden, brawny Viking and her dark, burnished pirate. Not when all she could think about was—

  Exactly what they did to her.

  “Fuck.” Rebel spun around, smashing her body between the car’s wall and his demanding form. He locked her head with his hands, holding her in place to receive the heat of his snarled command across her panting mouth. “No more waiting, goddammit. Not another second more.”

  And then, thank God, his lips were slanting over hers. Slamming into hers. Possessing her ruthlessly, his tongue stabbing, his teeth invading. His fingers knifed into her hair, pulling until she moaned, long and hard and needy.

  Oh God, the pain was so good.

  She didn’t hold back on telling him so. She couldn’t. Every minute of her bottled-up need, every second of her restrained lust…it all exploded in wonderful, bountiful new ways. The pressure in her breasts fanned along her arms, making her grab him as violently as he did her. The throbs in her pussy echoed down her thighs, compelling her to lift one and lock it around his ass. She gave in to wanton desire, pulling the core of his body against the aching slit of hers.

  Just when she was certain she’d splinter apart from the illicit joy of his embrace, he yanked away, only to look on with heated eyes as Rhett stepped in, claiming her lips and body in much the same way.

  He tasted like desire and decadence. He felt like six and a half feet of raw, raging lust—especially after hiking her ass onto the lift’s inner rail, using the extra leverage to slide the bulge in his pants along the crux of her sex. As their kiss deepened, Rebel circled around them, guiding her legs higher around Rhett’s waist.

  “Fuck, that’s good. Yeah…grip him tighter, mon chou. Grind your sweet body up against his. Let me see—”

  As the elevator dinged, he bit out a string of French profanity.

  When the doors slid open, he extended a hand into the opening.

  “I’ll take care of the door, Double-Oh. Make sure our girl makes it in safe.”

  Rhett’s growl vibrated against her lips. “Roger that, my love. Loud and fucking clear.” He dipped his head back toward her, only brushing his mouth over hers this time. “Hang on tight, peach. I’m going to handle this as fast as I possibly can.”

  She nodded—before clamping her thighs around his broad, hard torso.

  Every step to the room was a mix of agony and ecstasy. While she couldn’t wait to finally be alone with both of them, she cherished the feeling of being watched over once again…just letting Rhett take every step and think about every move. She tucked her face against his neck, and tangled her hands against the back of his head. He moved with effortless grace beneath her, his wide steps eating up the hallway between the elevator and their room.

  Finally, they were there.

  He set her down on the massive bed in the middle of the room, illuminated only by one bedside lamp and the glow of the city lights, thirty floors below. A world below. Up here, ensconced in this space just for them, there was no more traffic or music or dinging, crazy casino sounds. Not the din of a thousand conversations or the blare from a million points of light. All that existed, all that mattered, was the heat of their mingled breaths…the energy of their rising passions.

  At least she hoped.

  Oh God, please…

  She finally gathered up her girl balls, and opened her eyes.

  There she was, still positioned on the end of the bed—

&nb
sp; Now gaping at the two men in tuxedoes, on their knees in front of her.

  She didn’t know whether to sigh or cry. Maybe both. They were both adorably rumpled now, thanks to how they’d all attacked each other in the elevator. Rebel’s bow tie was unraveled. Rhett’s shirt had a smudge of her lipstick down the front. While her libido jumped and her heart swelled at observing the marks of her passion on them, she was still cautious, inwardly clutching the keys to her soul.

  So they still wanted her…at least physically. She’d be completely down with that. Didn’t mean they got to see the keys—or anything in the spaces she kept safe. Keeping it all hidden from herself was hard enough as it was, let alone breaking it open then having to shove it all away once they left again.

  And they would leave again.

  Not just because they had to.

  Because Vikings and pirates were meant to explore, to conquer. They didn’t have roots or commitments or permanent addresses. That was why these two suited each other…and clearly still saw that for themselves as well. Their connection practically formed visible ropes on the air. She could feel good for helping to make that happen, at least.

  After a huge inhalation, Rhett finally spoke. “We’ve just completed the east Asian jungle tour.”

  She studied their faces for clues about an appropriate response. “Ummm…congratulations?”

  Rebel’s face clouded over. “We would’ve brought you a souvenir, but we suspected you didn’t want us to bring back malaria or dysentery.”

  “You were right.” She laughed it out. “Thank you.” Then in a softer murmur, “You brought back the only two things that really matter, anyhow.”

  He reached to take her hand. “It’s damn good to hear you say that, minette.”

  Rhett repeated the action with her other hand. “What he’s trying to say is, all those miles of bogs, mud, and sludge didn’t compare to the hell we knew…without you.”