by Lila Dubois
Preston had never been with another man, but there was a first time for everything.
“When you joined the Trinity Masters, you made a vow. You pledged your lives to our cause and our traditions. The time has come for you to meet your partners, your lovers, your spouses.”
The words rang, echoing off the walls. He thought he heard a small sound of distress from the woman, hidden in her virginal white robe.
“When I call your name, stand and remove your robe.”
Preston’s belly lurched. This was it.
*****
Lance Glassco’s fingers tightened on the arms of the chair. The wood groaned as his knuckles turned white. He wanted to jump up and pull down everyone’s hoods. He hated the secrecy, hated not knowing what was going on.
Hated not having control.
Joining the Trinity Masters had been a blessing when he was younger. Without them stepping in at several key points during his career, he would probably be dead, another fallen Marine in some desert. As it was, he was a proud United States Marine Corps Reserve Officer, and a mathematician for DARPA, the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency, research and development arm of the United States Armed Forces.
Personal relationships weren’t his strong suit. He needed rules and guidelines, and relationships—or more accurately women—didn’t come with either. Knowing the Trinity Masters would someday step in and tell him whom to marry had relieved him of the burden of worrying about it.
It wasn’t until he’d gotten the letter from the Grand Master he realized exactly how much control he’d given up. He had no say about what was happening right now. He hadn’t even gotten to pick if his partners would be men or women. Seeing another man in the circle left him feeling more than a little uneasy.
Since receiving his letter, his frustration had grown to the point that he could now feel it boiling under his skin.
“When I call your name, stand and remove your robe.”
Lance froze, his shoulders cramping from the tension in his arms and back.
“Carlene Kenan.”
The figure in the white robe rose from her chair. Her hands were slim with painted nails.
He was glad at least one of them was a woman.
She threw back her hood and Lance jerked in his seat. She was beautiful with creamy pale skin and dark hair. Reaching back, she did something so her hair fell down around her shoulders in pretty waves. He wanted to bury his hands in those long tresses, taste those pink lips. Her gaze met his, though he doubted she could see his face under the hood. Then she looked at the other man before facing at the Grand Master once more.
The Grand Master raised a hand, and Lance noticed he wore gray gloves. The Grand Master motioned to her, the twitch of his fingers impatient.
The woman…what was her name? Carlene, that was it.
Her fingers moved down the front of her robe, undoing the small hook and eye catches that held it closed. As she did, the robe fell apart a bit, giving him teasing glimpses of flesh.
When the robe was open, she grasped the edges. There was an expression on her face Lance couldn’t read.
He sat forward, anxious to see what she hid under the enveloping material. Her gaze focused on him, as she raised her chin and dropped the robe.
Lance was sure he’d break the chair, he gripped it so hard. She had long legs and full breasts. She wore some lacy corset thing and a tiny pair of panties covered her sex. Garters held up dark stockings. Her face was beautiful in a way that made him think of the porcelain dolls his mother collected, but her body was lush and soft, made to be touched and stroked.
Lance sat back, his frustration gone, replaced by a need to have her. He’d never felt an attraction this strong, this instantaneous.
He grinned.
She was his.
“Preston Kim.”
Lance had been so wrapped up in imagining what he’d do to Carlene he’d forgotten this wasn’t just about the two of them. He looked where the other figure in black now stood. The hood fell back to reveal a tall man with a lean, handsome face. He had dark hair and slanted eyes that probably meant he was at least part Asian.
Preston’s gaze focused on him, and Lance felt the challenge.
Black velvet dropped to the floor. The man wore a pair of dark boxers. He was trim and muscled. Lance was sure he could take him in a fight, but it wouldn’t be easy. Preston reminded him of some jungle cat, maybe a black panther.
“Lance Glassco.”
Finally, it was his turn to stand. Lance rose to his feet. Impatient, he stripped off his robe, tossing it to the floor. He looked at Carlene, saw her brows go up as she caught sight of him. He’d kept up with his physical training while in the reserves. He wasn’t vain, but he knew that physically he was a good specimen. And his mama always said he was handsome.
“You now belong to one another. Come forward.”
Barefoot, they approached the Grand Master, stopping when they stood on the medallion. He grasped each of their right hands, bringing them into the center. Taking the chain from around his shoulders, he bound their wrists with it. Lance saw Carlene shiver as the cold metal touched her.
Lance’s hand was on top of hers. He squeezed her fingers. She looked at him, and Lance smiled. She tentatively returned the friendly gesture.
“Preston,” the Grand Master said.
The other man stepped closer and his hand, which lay atop Lance’s, tightened. Lance tensed. Reaching out with his free hand, Preston cupped Carlene’s face. Her eyes widened as Preston pulled her to him.
He kissed her long and deep, their cheeks only inches from Lance’s face. Desire warred with jealousy. Lance wanted to be the one kissing her, and yet he liked seeing Preston touch her. It didn’t make any sense to him.
Lance hated things he couldn’t understand.
The instant Preston pulled back, Lance jerked Carlene to him. Burying his hand in her hair, he nipped her lower lip, demanding she let him in. When she took a breath, he pressed his tongue into her mouth, tasting her sweet flavor.
Preston touched his bare back, his hand sliding over skin and muscle. Startled, Lance ended the kiss when Preston reached for him.
Lance knocked his hand away. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Dark eyes examined him. “The same thing we just did with Carlene.”
They stared at each other, right arms held awkwardly, their hands still bound together by the chain.
“Don’t touch me,” Lance snarled. It wasn’t that he had a problem with men touching each other, but he’d never had one try to kiss him. He hadn’t signed on for that. Had he?
Preston raised one brow. “You must have known there was a chance you’d be placed with another man.”
“I did, but we have a woman.”
“Oh, you must be fucking kidding.”
They both jerked, then looked at Carlene. Her lip was curled. Lance wasn’t good at reading people, but he was pretty sure the look on her face was one of disgust and anger.
“You have a woman? I really hope you don’t mean me.”
Lance frowned. “You are our woman.”
“I’m not your fuck toy or some baton you’re going to pass back and forth.” She jerked her wrist free of the chain and took a step back, rubbing the marks it left.
“Carlene.” The Grand Master’s voice was menacing and dark, dripping with warning.
She stopped in her tracks.
“You are incorrect. You are theirs…and they are yours.”
The Grand Master reached out and undid the chain from their wrists. Preston and Lance both stepped away.
“Your relationship is yours. You will choose how to live your lives, but there are rules. No one must know about the trinity and you may never stray outside your marriage.”
The Grand Master focused on Lance. “You have one month. At that time you will return here and be formally bound in the marriage of the Trinity Masters.”
The words echoed in the suddenly hu
shed space.
“Now, go.”
~~~~
Chapter Two
Carly let herself into the hotel room, braced to find one or both of the men there. Instead, she found fairly standard accommodations, empty except for her.
When she’d returned to her dressing room, she’d discovered the keycard to her room at a luxury boutique hotel gone, replaced by a key to this one, in a larger, more elegant hotel. She was on the top floor and only mildly surprised to see her bags waiting for her.
Bone-tired, she dropped into a chair, tossing her scarf and purse on the bed.
Lance Glassco and Preston Kim.
What in the hell had she gotten herself into?
Separately both men were gorgeous. Preston had a bit of an Asian James Bond thing going, while Lance was rock hard muscle with melting brown eyes. Their kisses had been different, unique. The whole thing had been a little surreal—the ceremony, the robes, the chain and then the kisses.
What were they going to do? Preston and Lance had jumped on each other and, in the process, acted like she was some bone they were fighting over. Of all the things she’d imagined for her ménage, this wasn’t one of them. She might not exactly be thrilled, but she’d been prepared to follow through and be with whomever the Grand Master matched her. Apparently the gentlemen didn’t feel the same. One thing she had not signed on for was a life as a referee or buffer.
She heard something and lifted her head. There was a connecting door in the side wall. Rising, she stripped off her jacket and tiptoed over, listening for the sound that had roused her. She heard a clink, like glasses touching.
She bit her lower lip, considering her next move. Cowardice would get her nowhere.
Reaching out, she opened the connecting door. Stepping through, she realized her bedroom was part of a larger suite. This must be the living room. There was a sunken sitting area, a baby grand piano and a bar.
“Well, hello.”
Preston stood behind the bar, putting ice into a glass. He held up a bottle of whiskey. “Would you like some?”
Smoothing her skirt against her hips, Carly made her way over and perched on a stool. “No, thank you, but if you have some wine or champagne, I wouldn’t say no.”
He ducked down, then straightened to present the half bottle of bubbly. “For the lady.” He popped the cork and poured it into a glass.
They raised their glasses and toasted. Preston’s gaze remained focused on her as he sipped. When he lowered the drink, he smiled. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. I’m Dr. Preston Kim.”
“Carlene Kenan. Call me Carly.”
“Carly.” He raised his glass to her again.
“Dr. Kim.” She took a sip, feeling more like herself than she had since receiving the summons. After the craziness of the rest of the day, she was grateful for normal, polite conversation.
“That doctorate is in Chemistry, so I don’t use the title too often. Call me Preston. Wouldn’t want someone expecting me to deliver a baby in an airplane or something like that.”
Carly nodded, though her lips twitched. “Of course, that makes total sense. So you’re a chemist?”
“Specializing in nanotechnology. I live in San Francisco.”
“Then we’re neighbors. I live in Menlo Park.”
“Silicon Valley? Do you work in the industry?”
“Nexus Six.”
“The video game company? Very cool.”
“Do you play?”
“I do. Their games are off the chart, very cutting edge. I’d love to know how they’re running the living gameplay. It’s closer to artificial intelligence than any designated A.I. technology.”
She laughed. “Thank you. That’s great to hear. People thought I was crazy focusing on game play, but it allows for the greatest data input. It’s basically human experimentation. Plus, I love to game.”
His eyebrows rose. “Carly Kenan. You’re the owner of Nexus Six.”
She nodded and giggled when he pretended to stagger.
“Well, holy shit. I never would have guessed from looking at you, but then again, didn’t GeekWire do some sexy photo shoot with you?”
“They did. It was fun, though it didn’t exactly help change the way the world sees women and games. But it’s getting there.”
They lapsed into silence for a moment. As Carly looked Preston up and down, the thought that she should take him home, enjoy his kisses and his touch, flashed across her brain. She enjoyed sex, recognized the definite chemistry sparking between them.
Then reality intruded.
He was, for all intents and purposes, her husband. She would be taking this stranger home. Forever.
’Til death do them part.
She set her glass down harder than she meant to.
Preston must have read her anxious expression because he came around the bar and took her elbow. “Why don’t we sit?”
He led her to the sunken couch, seating himself next to her.
“This is all so bizarre.” She glanced out the window. It was still only afternoon. The sun was going strong, providing copious amounts of bright light in the room. How was that possible? It felt like it had been days since her plane landed rather than just this morning. Surely it should be midnight by now.
Preston took another sip of his drink. “How did you become a member of the Trinity Masters?”
“In college, at Harvard. An older girl in my sorority introduced me to people. I thought it was so they could hear my business pitch. Even at nineteen I knew what I wanted; all I needed was the money.”
“But you agreed to join, once you understood what would be expected of you.”
“I suppose.” She rubbed her palms on her thighs. “They offered me what I needed, but until today I didn’t really understand what they were asking.”
There was a moment of silence before Preston put his drink on the coffee table. “You don’t want this.”
She got only a glimpse of his face as he rose, but it was enough to see that she’d hurt him. She stood too. “Preston.”
He didn’t turn.
“Preston, I’m sorry. It has nothing to do with you.”
“It seems I am the only one who truly embraced what this is, what we are meant to be.”
When he did turn, his face was a hard mask. ”You’ll excuse me?”
Without waiting for an answer, he walked away, disappearing into one of the connecting bedrooms. The door closed with a snap.
“Carly, you dumbass,” she muttered to herself. Preston seemed genuinely hurt that she wasn’t enthusiastic about their new relationship. But how could she be after that interlude between him and Lance?
As if her thought summoned him, another door opened. Lance emerged, looking around. His gaze swept the room before settling on her. Carly went back to the bar and picked up her glass of champagne, draining it, then reaching for the bottle to refill it.
“Carlene.”
His voice was warm and low, carrying a note of command that had her turning before she knew what she was doing.
Lance literally marched across the room. The word warrior drifted through her mind. Lance Glassco had to be military. She’d created enough soldiers for her games that she recognized the posture, the self-assurance, the take no prisoners look.
“Carly, call me Carly.” She sat on the barstool, feeling safer that way, though she realized her error when he boxed her in, one hand on the back of her chair, the other on the counter.
“Carly.” His gaze moved over her face. “It suits you.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re gorgeous. I was angry about all of this until I saw you.”
“Angry about what? Aren’t you a part of the Trinity Masters?”
“I am. I have been since the Academy.”
“Then why were you angry?” She ignored the fact that she wasn’t exactly gung-ho about the whole thing either.
“I don’t like losing control.”
“And that�
�s what this is?”
“Isn’t it? We had no say in who we were going to be partnered with.”
“That’s the way it works. You knew that going in.”
Lance shrugged. “I’m not as young and impressionable as I was when I joined the Trinity Masters. Years of experience have taught me to ask questions rather than follow blindly.”
“It sounds like you’re not happy about your vow.”
He shook his head. “I told you. I wasn’t. Past tense.”
“Oh, that’s right. That changed when you met me.” Carly stood, her breasts brushing his chest. She expected him to move, but he didn’t. Instead he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tight to him. It was a power play, pure and simple. And as much as Carly hated to admit it, the strength of his hold was the equivalent of throwing gasoline on smoldering embers. She’d felt an instant physical attraction to Lance the second he removed his hood in the ceremony room. Now…in his arms…that attraction was turning into an ache, a desire for more.
“What do you think you’re doing?” She wished her words sounded more insulted. Instead, her voice had gone husky and even she couldn’t mistake the flirty dare she’d just issued.
Lance studied her face, looking far too pleased. Damn, she was clearly failing to hide the lust being in his arms inspired. “Right now? I’m going to take advantage of my favorite part of the situation.”
His eyes were like warm chocolate, and his chest and arms seemed to radiate heat.
She licked her lips in blatant invitation, loving the way his deep voice seemed to vibrate along her skin, stroking her without touch. “Let me guess, the part you want to take advantage of is…me.”
He grinned, showing off straight, white teeth. Lance obviously treated his body like a temple. No coffee in his mornings, no late night runs for fast food while the game was on pause. She’d bet her majority ownership of Nexus Six that he started his day with one of those vile protein shakes and a seven-hundred mile run.
One of Lance’s hands moved down to her ass, as the other moved up until he cupped the back of her head. Carly took a breath, waiting, wondering what he’d do next. And wishing he’d hurry up.
