Breathless (The Game Series Book 3)

by Cara Dee

  The topic change sobered Shay, and he straightened in his chair and nodded with a dip of his chin. “I understand, Sir.”

  I side-eyed the legal pad next to our private laptop. River and I had drafted the terms of Shay’s punishment there, and I started with the first one.

  “You’ll be on probation for six months. Which means you won’t be allowed at events and parties without a chaperone.”

  “That would be me or Reese,” River clarified.

  I slid the notepad closer and read the next item. “During these six months, you will partake in at least twelve scenes, where you will follow—and initiate—protocol and negotiate terms, limits, and aftercare.”

  “Before each one? Even though you already know everything?” Shay asked, seemingly to make sure. He wasn’t questioning our method.

  “Before each one,” I confirmed. “It’s important to establish a new habit.”

  He nodded. “Okay.”

  River cleared his throat and sat forward a bit. “You won’t do all these scenes with us, though.”

  Shay slid me a look with some wariness in it.

  “We won’t get you involved with people you don’t know.” I wanted him to know that, so he didn’t walk around thinking we’d order him to bend over for someone he’d never met before. “At this point, we only have two scenes in mind. Kit has asked Colt about waterboarding, but the boy’s not ready to try it out. So we volunteered you for a nonsexual, private waterboarding scene in a few weeks. How does that sound?”

  He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Will you two be there?”

  “Absolutely.” In fact, there was something else I could add. “I can tell you right now that you’ll never participate in a scene with anyone else without River or me overseeing.”

  That appeared to relax him. “Okay, thank you.” He smiled a little. “Then I’m game. It sounds like a rush.”

  He was fucking perfect. With or without fears, he was the type of man who at least wanted to try things, and he did it eagerly.

  “Kit doesn’t strike me as that kind of masochist,” Shay mused.

  The kind that was into waterboarding? Christ no. “I think his curiosity will be satisfied pretty quickly.” I shook my head, the thought of Kit even attempting a scene like that amusing. But his interest was adorable, and most fantasies—big or small—were worth exploring. “Moving on to the second scene in mind—our group play in a couple months. You need to think about whether or not other limits will apply. Riv and I will do the same.”

  It felt strange to want to limit my own play, but I had to admit I did. While I’d never view monogamy the way others regularly did, I still wanted boundaries with Shay and River. I wanted our triad to be sacred and exclusive to some extent.

  Shay shifted in his seat and pinched his bottom lip. “Is it, um, okay if I also feel possessive? You said you felt that way…”

  I smiled and shook my head, unable to describe what he did to me. “Nothing wrong with that at all.”

  “It just puts us on the same page.” River linked his fingers together with Shay’s and squeezed his hand. “All of this is new to Reese and me too, pup. We’ll negotiate and renegotiate until we find our happy medium. Okay?”

  “Yes, Owner.” Shay bit his lip as if that would hide his grin. It didn’t. He was too goddamn sweet.

  It was easy to forget we were discussing his punishment.

  I straightened in my seat and sighed. Forty-one years old, and I was acting like a love-sick idiot.

  A love-sick idiot who was fairly certain that something smelled like garlic in the house.

  “In addition to probation and your tasks before those twelve scenes, we want you to log some community hours in the names of the two Sadists you approached for unsafe play,” I told him. “August, for instance, often contributes by handling online administration. You’ll offer your assistance.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Shay nodded firmly.

  “Good. We have one more thing, and it’ll be between us three,” I said. “As your Doms, we have the privilege of being able to punish you further.”

  “How fun for you,” he joked. “What is it?”

  I shut my mouth when I saw Riv sitting forward. He wanted to take this.

  “Once a week, you’re going to write a short journal entry about something you’ve done for your brothers since your parents and sister passed away.”

  Shay’s expression faltered, and he swallowed uneasily.

  “For two years, you’ve felt like you’ve deserved punishment for not saving your family,” I murmured. “We believe it’s made you blind to the shoes you’ve filled as a new parent to your brothers.”

  He made a sound of protest at that. “I’m just their brother. Aunt Mel has filled those shoes, if anything. She gave us a home.”

  I tilted my head. “And you’re a cage fighter to, what, make rent?”

  River and I weren’t stupid. We knew how much money could be earned at those fights.

  Shay withdrew his hand from River’s and folded his arms over his chest. “Since when is it bad to save for your brothers’ college funds?”

  Well, that was the point. “It’s not,” I replied. “That’s what we’re getting at, sweetheart. What you’re doing for TJ and Levi is wonderful, and we want you to see it too. And you can’t say it’s something brothers normally do for one another.”

  As Shay dropped his gaze to his lap and started biting at his thumbnail, I became convinced this homework was necessary for him. Breaking bad habits was difficult, and he wasn’t going to stop warring against guilt overnight.

  “Do we have an agreement, boy?” I asked.

  He sighed heavily and muttered a quiet, “Sure.”

  River cupped his ear. “What was that?”

  Shay lost the attitude, though anyone could still see his annoyance. “Yes, Sir. We have an agreement.”

  Better.

  “Good boy. You’re excused for now,” I said. “Get some downtime with Ivy and Tate while I prepare a meal before you get on the road.”

  That made him hesitate for some reason. “Ivy and I bought fixings for Greek salad and garlic bread.”

  That explained the garlic smell. Ivy must be in the kitchen.

  “I can help with that.” River stood up from his seat. “We generally don’t let Ivy cook alone, because then we just get rabbit food.”

  He wasn’t wrong.

  Shay’s mouth twitched with humor, but I supposed he wasn’t ready to let go of his mood quite yet. That was fine with me.

  River walked out first, visibly eager to do damage control in the kitchen and find some meat we could throw on the grill.

  Shay paused in the doorway. “I know what you’re doing, by the way. You can be the meanest drill sergeant when we run together or we’re in the pool, but you won’t fight me.”

  I smirked. “Hard to fight when we don’t have the cages ready.”

  He scoffed. “We can fight on the damn lawn, Daddy.”

  “Oh, you’re right. How come I hadn’t thought of that before?”

  He scowled. “You’re not fooling me. You just don’t wanna fight me until Saturday, admit it.”

  “I assure you, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You assure me,” he mocked. Then he stuck out his tongue at me and closed the door.

  I grinned to myself.

  This weekend was going to be fun.

  “Fucking hell, I’m getting old.” I gritted my teeth and gripped the bars as tightly as I could while Colt jammed the platform under the fighting cage. The utility gloves I wore were uncomfortable too, considering I was filling them with sweat. But I wouldn’t be able to hold on to the bars without the rubber lining of the gloves.

  I preferred vampire gloves, to be frank.

  “You and me both,” Colt grunted. “Okay, I think you can let go.”

  I looked down to make sure the corners of the platform and cage lined up, then slowly let go. Jesus Christ. The triple-d
igit heat wasn’t helping. I drew my arm over my forehead and squinted up the lawn. River was heading our way with two electric screwdrivers. One more cage to go, and then we were planting our asses in the pool.

  Colt sat back on his heels and removed his gloves. “I won’t say no to a dip in the pool after this.”

  “Count on it,” I replied. “You stayin’ the night? We got a case of beer in the fridge.”

  He inclined his head, reaching for his water bottle in the grass. “Yeah, Luke and Kit are comin’ down first thing in the mornin’ anyway. No use in drivin’ back.”

  Perfect. We could go over some of the plans for Saturday.

  It was going to be a busy event. Fourteen couples had signed up to participate in the Game, and a total of sixty-eight people would be here. Around the same number of people had shown up for the last Game, though only nine couples had participated. Seven of them would compete this Saturday too.

  It took us another hour to get the second platform in place, and then River and I attached the screws as Colt took measurements for the rubber strips we were putting into place tomorrow. The floor of each cage already consisted of a thick rubber mat, but this wouldn’t be the kind of cage fight Shay was used to. The bars needed some padding too.

  “Summoning the Sadisty Sunshine Squad!” Ivy yelled from the patio.

  I exchanged a look with Colt. “Sunshine?”

  He laughed and wiped his forehead.

  I straightened and hollered back to Ivy. “What’s up, sassafras slut?”

  She giggled. “Tate and I made snacks!”

  Yeah, there was no way we could resist that.

  We told her we’d be done in about ten minutes, which was the time it took for her and Tate to fill a table in the shade with…I didn’t know what, but there were platters, beer, and condiments. I was ready. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and it was past noon now.

  “We’ve earned a break.” I took a step back and inspected the cages. This was gonna be good. All we had left for today was elevating the south ends of the platforms to make the cages level.

  “I don’t see us moving these anytime soon,” River muttered.

  “Fuck no,” I chuckled.

  “Some see just a fighting cage,” Colt mused. “We see a subbie prison.”

  Exactly. We’d find multiple uses for the cages, and they weren’t in the way. The lawn was huge.

  As we made our way up toward the patio, I told Colt to pass on to Lucas that I’d read his online article in our forum this morning. It was a good one. He’d written about the changes people make in new relationships, and how it further strengthened our collective agreement on not brushing kinks aside before you knew the person behind the kink. Because, as River and I were balls deep in experiencing for ourselves, we evolved with others, and it altered our outlooks on certain things.

  “Do you think Luke will mind speaking at the next munch?” I asked. “We’re gonna have nine new members by then, mostly bottoms, and Luke’s a good first face to see.” We didn’t generally get on any soapboxes during munches, but it’d been a while since we’d had this sort of influx of members. Ivy had invited three of them.

  “I’ll ask him, but I’m sure he won’t mind,” Colt answered. “Nine new subbies. Fantastic.”

  Seriously.

  We actually needed new members. Our goal was to stay at around a hundred and fifty, but relationships ended and sent some ex-partners fleeing, some moved…some, uh, infatuations weren’t reciprocated, so they left too. New jobs, lost interest, kids, school, money—there were countless reasons to terminate a membership, and we weren’t great at recruiting new ones. Mainly because we didn’t want to. But bills had to be paid, and our single kinksters wanted fresh meat.

  “Santiago’s joining us too,” I said.

  “Great. He belongs with us.” Colt nodded. “Luke wants to set him up with Cam.”

  I lifted my brows.

  He smirked. “Let’s just say my man is sick of Lucian draggin’ his feet.”

  Now it made much more sense. “According to Tate, Lucian tried to play with Cam during the orgy Macklin hosted here the other week, but the boy was havin’ none of it.”

  “Good for him. I gotta be honest, I feel for the kid.”

  Yeah, me too.

  River said he was gonna change into trunks first and headed toward our cabin. Colt and I passed the pool instead and aimed straight for the only table on the patio that the sun wasn’t burning to a crisp.

  “Are we turnin’ into saps?” Colt asked me. “It’s Kit’s fault, if that’s the case.”

  I chuckled and sat down on the cushy three-seater. “Lord knows I blame Shay.”

  He just smiled at that.

  Ivy and Tate arrived with the last of what they’d prepared, and my stomach grumbled with approval. Together, they made an excellent team in the kitchen. Tate had whipped up wings, barbecue chicken skewers, and little meatball sandwiches, and Ivy had gone overboard with salads, mozzarella sticks, guacamole, chips, homemade salsa, and grilled tomato halves.

  “Did you use that shitty little grill on the front porch?” I asked.

  Tate took a seat across from me, next to Colt, and nodded at Ivy.

  “It’s the only one I can use without your very loud suggestions.” Ivy bit into a cucumber stick and sat down next to me.

  I patted her on the head. “I’m glad you’ve picked up on that.”

  She batted my hand away and smoothed down her hair. I was fairly certain the pink streaks were new. She liked to dye her hair, and it was impossible to keep up.

  “This looks fantastic, sugar.” Colt started filling a plate with food. “Are you fightin’ someone this weekend?”

  Ivy shook her head and pouted. “I asked August, but he has to work.”

  That wasn’t technically true. August and Ivy had played a lot recently, and it was why he was keeping his distance now and taking on more work. Whether River and I wanted to or not, we got to hear a lot of gossip about our members, usually because much of it took place out here. He and I could be chilling by the pool when some chatty Cathy or five shared everything they’d found out online or at lunch with someone in the city.

  In this case, however, the gossip came straight from our favorite Texan, Colt.

  The short story was that August had his eyes set on a triad that included Ivy and a switchy boy named Ev, with whom Colt had served in the Air Force. But Ev was stationed elsewhere, and Ivy wasn’t interested in a relationship.

  Just like I’d rather not get involved in the drama including Cam and Lucian, I was sitting this one out too.

  River appeared around the same time I was cramming barbecue chicken into my mouth, and he tossed me his phone before sitting down on the other side of Ivy.

  Wait, it was his phone, right? I had mine in—yeah, my jeans. Right here.

  “Text from Shay,” was all he said.

  I didn’t like that tone.

  Furrowing my brow, I brought the phone to life; it recognized my face as River’s, and I opened the text messages.

  There was a picture of a swimming pool and Shay showing a thumbs-up.

  Dropped Levi off at a friend’s place across the river, and this is their apartment complex’s pool. It just became my dream home. When I leave Weasel’s house, I’m gonna find a place like this. See you soon, kiss Daddy from me.

  Across the river… I reckoned he’d been in Arlington or Alexandria, then.

  I knew it was way too early for Riv and me to worry about the fact that Shay’s dream home might always be in DC. Much, much too soon for us to think about that. In fact, it was ludicrous. And yet… Motherfucker.

  This relationship nonsense with all its irrational thinking and feeling was horseshit.

  After a cancelation on a guest room booking, today became the first in a while that we didn’t have any members staying over. Not in the main house anyway. Even Tate and Ivy had returned to the city.

  Shay showed up around four, and we spent
a few hours in and around the pool, taking it easy, hashing out Saturday plans, and I did my best to just enjoy the moment. When I failed miserably because our boy happened to be fucking amazing, I headed back to our cabin for a cold shower.

  Focusing on our kink dynamic wasn’t the easiest when he insisted on being so goddamn sweet and funny.

  It was a noticeable change whenever he came back from spending time with his brothers. Shay was coming into his own and relaxing in our relationship. He wasn’t reserved whatsoever anymore, and he was cuddly and…just imperfectly perfect.

  I’d thought Riv and I were supposed to bring the mindfucks into our dynamic, but Shay had his way of making our brains spin too.

  As I stood between our bed and the dresser, stepping into a pair of boxer briefs, I heard the door open downstairs.

  “Daddy?” Shay called.

  “Just getting dressed, sweetheart. What’s up?”

  “Colt said that you and he play guitar together sometimes. Can y’all do that after dinner?”

  Oh. It’d been a while. I’d have to tune mine. “We can give it a go, but I might be rusty.” I pulled on a white tee, then reached for a pair of River’s cargo shorts to borrow.

  “Colt says you’re awesome at it!” Shay responded in triumph. “I’ll go tell the others!”

  I smiled at his enthusiasm and buttoned up my shorts. Time to give the newborn head case in me a damn rest. Shay hadn’t given me any reason to actually worry. The opposite.

  Fourteen

  Shay Acton

  I wanted to save this evening and play it on repeat for the rest of my life.

  I didn’t even mind that it was country music Daddy and Colt were playing. If anything, it was the perfect genre to let their whiskey voices and Southern drawls shine.

  With only some candles lit between us—except for a dimmed-down porch light—it was as close as I’d gotten to experiencing a bonfire on the beach. Reese and Colt occupied the chairs across from River and me, and they were seriously amazing on guitar, both of them. Not to mention their singing. There was nothing amateur about it.