Soleil

Caitlyn Willows

Soleil
Copyright © August 2010 by Caitlyn Willows
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eISBN 978-1-60737-835-8
Editor: Ann M. Curtis
Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs
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Chapter One

Waiting in breathless anticipation, Mac Jordan stood in what little shadow

existed in the ballroom, trying to hide a trouser-swelling erection he knew had left a

wet spot.

Lori Belcher was the most beautiful woman Mac knew, and he knew a lot of

women. Dated them, fucked them, lived with one or two, even considered marrying

one in an attempt at what the world considered normalcy, which had failed before

he‟d executed the idea. Thank God.

No one compared to Lori. She knew his demons and desires. Knew firsthand

what true horror was. They‟d shared the climatic point of that nightmare years ago.

An event that linked him, her, and Blake Patterson forever and eventually bonded

them body and soul. The heart involved, the love, was never mentioned. Saying it

out loud, admitting it, threatened control—Mac‟s, Blake‟s, especially Lori‟s—and

Lori was very much about maintaining control over her life. And he and Blake loved

her enough to let her have it, no matter how much they‟d grown to resent her

dominatrix persona.

It was probably a mistake to seek her out tonight, but Mac couldn‟t help

himself. He had to be with her one more time while they still had the illusion of

anonymity. That would all change come morning. Maybe even sooner.

Come morning, when the news media started rehashing “the Southland‟s most

shocking murders,” the three of them would be front-page news. Would the

limelight reveal the three were a threesome? Probably not. They had been discreet,

after all. But it would make future liaisons difficult, if not impossible, for a long

time to come. So Mac had to see Lori tonight. Blake wouldn‟t be long in following.

Caitlyn Willows

A private call for her to meet them would have done the trick. Lori wouldn‟t

have hesitated to meet them anywhere. But since she and Mac were both scheduled

to attend Oliver Holbrook‟s fund-raiser for cancer research, why bother with the

facade? The event was packed. Someone here was bound to make the years-old

connection between him, Blake, and Lori in the days to come. A few would even

know Lori as Soleil—one-third of Oliver‟s triumvirate of legendary dommes, a trio

now minus one since Maneater had announced her retirement the month before.

Mac shrugged. People could think what they wanted. They would anyway. Mac

needed Lori in his arms, in his bed. He literally ached to have her, physically and

emotionally. Ached all the more because he couldn‟t do much to protect her from

what was about to happen.

Hell, he couldn‟t protect any of them.

Lori‟s smile brightened when she spied him. How she managed to see him…

Mac smiled back. The woman had excellent radar where he and Blake were

concerned.

She truly did look like sunshine. “You are my sunshine.” The song would

always feel like a knife to the heart in bad ways and in good.

He shook the memories away and watched her thread her way around the

tables toward him, pausing every now and then when a couple on their way to the

dance floor stopped to speak with her. Each time she was gracious, patient, a true

lady.

A goddess.

Her long blonde hair beckoned fingers into its depths and promised gold in

return. Few men knew how soft and thick it felt; only those she truly trusted were

allowed the honor. Mac could count that number on one hand.

Her red silk dress draped her body, hinting at generous curves rather than

broadcasting them to the world. Understated elegance, unmatched beauty. The hem

rippled above her perfectly cut calves; matching red high heels showed her legs to

their full advantage.

Soleil

Lori walked past the last table and picked up her pace. Her smile brightened.

His heart did that little hiccup, liked he‟d driven over a hill too fast. Mac reached for

her at the same time she lifted her arms to embrace him. Then she was flush

against him. Relief flooded his senses at the connection. This wasn‟t a social hug. It

lasted too long, was too tight, too perfect. Anyone paying attention could see the

bond between them. It was all Mac could do not to clamp his hand over her ass and

grind his cock into her belly, kiss those full red lips.

“What a wonderful surprise.” Lori nuzzled against his cheek and inhaled. Mac

loved when she did that, like she was reimprinting his scent on her soul. It made

him feel so male.

Lori drew back but kept her pelvis pressed to his. “Is Blake with you?” Her

brown eyes sparkled with affection.

Mac slipped his hands to her waist, ordering his thumbs not to wander upward

to her breasts. “Soon. Right now he‟s circling the wagons.”

The light in her eyes dimmed. She‟d been frustratingly stubborn over this

whole thing, glaring into space with jaw clenched when they tried to talk about it.

Mac knew doing so resurrected the memories Lori tried to bury.

“I see,” Lori finally said. “And you?”

Mac managed a halfhearted grin. “Circling you.”

She traced the smile line bracketing his mouth. “You worry too much.” With a

glimmer of mischief, she added, “Have you eaten?”

He chuckled and tapped his index finger against the tip of her nose. “Pot,

kettle, black. As for eating, I could fill my answer with all sorts of naughty little

innuendos—”

She feigned a gasp. “Is that what‟s wedged between us? An innuendo?”

“Well, I‟ve never had it called that before,” he said with a laugh.

“And certainly never little either.” Lori winked and put some distance between

them. “So…have you eaten? I can have the kitchen whip you up something.”

Caitlyn Willows

He cupped her elbow, then tickled his fingers down her arm until he could lace

them through hers. “All I want is you. I need you, Lori. Now. Tonight.” Before

everything goes to hell tomorrow.

“I‟ll get my purse.” No question, no hesitation—that was the nature of the

relationship the three of them had. They were always there for one another. She

leaned in as if to kiss him, then whispered, “How do you always know exactly when

I need you?”

The emotion her words churned was almost too much to bear. He drew in the

scent of her, just as she‟d done with him. Words escaped him. Mac gave her another

hug, kissed her cheek, and spied Oliver Holbrook headed their way, her small red

purse clutched in his hand.

“Looks like Oliver‟s anticipated our need.” He kept his arm loosely around her

waist as she turned.

Lori‟s heat shimmered around him. “Ah, he is the best.”

Mac had to agree. Oliver anticipated everyone‟s needs and met them with

unerring accuracy. The man was ageless. It seemed he hadn‟t changed in the fifteen

years they‟d known him. No gray dared to pepper his blond hair. No lines crept over

his tan features. He was as fit and trim as the day Mac and Blake had met him. The

man oozed class, whether in a tux and diamond cuff links or jeans and a T-shirt.

One of the most influential men in California, if not the world. A business nod from

Oliver Holbrook meant success, and he‟d nodded at Mac Jordan and Blake

Patterson years ago when he suggested they open up their own security and

investigation firm. It was by far one of the best moves they‟d ever made.

“I thought you‟d want this.” Oliver handed the purse to Lori. His subtle smile

blessed their need for a private moment.

“Right as usual.” Lori kissed Oliver‟s cheek. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Oliver zeroed in on Mac. “I‟ll have room service send up a little

something. I doubt you‟ve eaten much today.”

Soleil

Two comments in the space of five minutes? Either they knew him too well, or

he was looking emaciated. Mac had a feeling it was the former. He hadn‟t eaten

much. His stomach was too twisted in knots.

Lori pressed her palm to Oliver‟s chest. “I‟ll call down later.”

Oliver grunted a response, then lifted her fingers to his lips. “Have a good

time. If you need anything, don‟t hesitate to call. But then, you both already know

that.” He dropped a quick kiss to her hand, then walked away.

Hand against her lower back, Mac guided her toward the exit. “I understand

Blake finally got you to agree to stay here for the duration?”

“I let Blake book me a suite for a couple of days to appease you both. Plus it

allowed me to enjoy a glass or two of wine tonight without having to worry about

the drive home.”

Oliver would have seen she‟d gotten home. Mac didn‟t call her on what he

suspected was a half-truth. If she‟d caved to Blake‟s demand to lie low, maybe she

was more worried about tomorrow than she let on. Or maybe she‟d done it to shut

them up.

“But I‟m not missing work tomorrow,” she added.

Okay…perhaps not so worried after all.

He and Blake should have taken a direct stand with Lori on this, convinced

her to go somewhere safe with them until the media storm was over. Instead, Mac

and Blake continued the pattern so ingrained in their relationship, giving Lori the

control she needed in her life. There were times when that was the hardest thing to

do. Lonely times. Scary times. Like now. Damn scary. If they fucked this up, he and

Blake would never forgive themselves. How hard could they hold on to her before

they risked losing her completely?

Mac couldn‟t bear the thought. That‟s why he‟d come here now, while Blake

planned a full and aggressive charge for tomorrow.

“Let us at least set you up with a bodyguard to help keep the wolves at bay.”

Caitlyn Willows

Lori turned her head his way as they neared the elevator, where several others

waited. “Don‟t.” Command edged her voice. “If you came here tonight to wear down

my resolve, you can leave. I agreed to the suite. Anything or anyone more is only

going to draw undue attention to me. You know I can‟t have that. You‟re making

entirely too much of this.”

She glared up at him. What was the sense in arguing? He wanted the night in

her arms, not them being at odds…again.

“So what is it?” she asked. “Stay or go? I left a lovely chocolate-raspberry

cheesecake back there begging for my mouth.”

Mac‟s neck hairs bristled. He hated when she used her domme tone with him.

He was one of her men, damn it, not a client, although he more than enjoyed when

she took the lead in the bedroom. There was only so much a man could take.

He drew Lori to a stop far enough away from the elevator to avoid being

overheard. “Is that what I have to do? Beg for your mouth? If Blake and I beg you to

be watchful and have a bodyguard, would you finally agree?” Anger welled up. Mac

couldn‟t fight it. “Wait, I get it. You‟re the domme. It‟s your responsibility to see we

get what we need. Well, we need you to—”

Lori pressed her palms into his chest, her forehead against his chin. “Not

tonight, Mac. Please. I need this. I need you. I don‟t want to argue anymore.”

He closed his eyes, breathing in her scent, absorbing the feel of her body next

to his. “Agreed.” Mac kissed her forehead, fought the urge to pat her ass, then

moved them toward the elevator once more.

“Besides,” she said in a low voice, “if it‟s the domme in me you want, then I’m

the one who decides what you need. Are you willing to give me all the control in the

bedroom?”

Mac managed a chuckle and bent near her ear. “Don‟t I always, sweetheart?”

Her sly smile chased the clouds away, and she picked up her pace, silently

commanding Mac to follow.

Soleil

The doors opened as they neared, and they crowded inside the elevator with

ten other people. Everyone seemed to have the same destination—the twelfth floor.

It made conversation impossible, but the tight quarters wedged Lori against him.

She flexed her ass cheeks, somehow using the exercise to stroke his erection. He

slipped his hand around her waist, splaying it over her belly, and anchored her

against him. Dry humping her where they stood sounded like a damn fine option to

him. Mac didn‟t mind an audience. The more the merrier.

Lori subtly rocked her hips over his erection. Mac braced himself against the

wall and inched his hand higher until his thumb brushed the underside of her

breast. He felt more than heard her gasp and nailed her hip in place with his other

hand. He indulged in a pivot of his own. She turned her face toward his and licked

her lips. By the time the doors opened, her eyes glimmered with the promise of hot

sex. Mac could barely see straight.

Lori led the way to her corner suite with a stride that boasted the confidence

she commanded as Soleil. He‟d be lying if he said she wasn‟t intoxicating. Mac

would never go the discipline route, but he sure as hell loved when Lori took the

reins of pleasure in the bedroom. After all these years, all the times they‟d been

with each other, the want still existed stronger than ever. And when it was the

three of them together…

A shudder down his spine threatened to make him come. Uncaring if anyone

saw, Mac squeezed his cock into submission. He caught Lori‟s I‟m-going-to-fuck-you

smile from the corner of his eye. She fished the key card from her purse and handed

it to him.

“Want to stick it in?”

Another shudder quivered down his spine. “You‟re evil.” He snatched the card

from her.

Lori giggled and squeezed his left butt cheek. Her tongue found its way into

his ear. His steady hand stabbed the key card into the lock, but his insides were

mush.

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She danced by when Mac shoved the door open. “I‟m going to take my makeup

off. I won‟t be long.”

Mac admired the sway of her hips. “I‟ll amuse myself while I wait.”

She spun around and kept walking backward. “Don‟t amuse yourself too

much.” Lori gave him her back. Her husky laughter settled in his gut, then slithered

to his groin.

“Take your time, sweet cheeks,” he called out. He stroked the ridge of hard

cock swelling his trousers, wishing she‟d turn around, fall to her knees before him,

pull his aching erection from its prison, then suck it deep into her hot mouth. Lori

kept walking. He squeezed his cock, gave it a hard stroke, then slid his hand to his

abdomen. “I can diddle fart with the best of them.”

“Whew…don‟t I know it!” she shouted.

Mac laughed at the verbal uppercut, letting Lori win the moment.

He followed her path through the living area and into a bedroom large enough

to fit three king-size beds. Lori had left the bathroom door half-open. Her dress lay

in a pool of red silk on the creamy leather armchair.

Mac scooped the dress up to his face, inhaling Lori‟s essence as he walked to

the closet. The ache grew to a breathtaking intensity. At this rate, he wasn‟t going

to last long tonight.

He hung up the dress, then did the same with his suit, making sure trousers

and jacket flanked the silk and hopefully absorbed Lori‟s scent. Mac was down to

his boxers when a pair of red heels flew out of the bathroom.

“What? Am I your maid now?” he asked.

Lori responded by throwing her red lace bra and satin panties out. Mac had no

choice—he stripped his boxers off and tossed them toward the bathroom. He missed

the shot by a mile. Admitting defeat, he snagged the panties on his way to a bed

made for loving.

Soleil

Gold braid secured black bed curtains to the floor-to-ceiling posts. It was the

only flash of color in the otherwise neutrally decorated suite. Set on a platform, the

king-size bed was the focal point of the room.

Mac yanked the covers down and crawled in. The mattress cradled him in

comfort. His cock pointed skyward, harder than any of the four posts could ever

hope to be. Mac brought Lori‟s panties to his face. The smoky scent of her arousal

slithered through him. He rubbed his cheek into the satin, then brushed the scrap

of red down his chest, over his nipples, and tickled around his navel before twirling

it around his cock.

His balls drew tighter, ready to shoot. Mac fisted satin and cock, squeezing

hard to fight the rush. His hips didn‟t listen. Propelled by lust, they pumped his

erection into his grip. Mac snarled and jerked his hands to his sides. He flexed his

fingers into the sheet, pulling in hard breaths to shore up his resolve while he

counted backward from one thousand. It wasn‟t easy with Lori‟s panties dangling

over his penis, crotch perfectly poised over the head, taunting him to come into

them.

“That‟s the most tempting sight I‟ve seen in a long time.” Lori stalked his way,

naked as the day she was born, long hair pulled over her shoulders so nothing hid

her full breasts. She was fresh faced and damned sexy with curves that personified

her as woman.

“I look at you, and I want to come.” The bed dipped with her weight as she

crawled up between his feet.

“I know the feeling well.” Mac‟s words came out shaky.

Her hair fell forward, tickling his legs. Goose bumps lifted the hairs on his

body. Lori‟s gaze swept over him. She dipped her head lower, draping a curtain of

silky blonde over his calves. Her breasts touched Mac; he gasped. Her hard nipples

dragged up his legs. His balls contracted, hard and ready to burst. Her soft hair

kissed them, then brushed over his cock. She nuzzled her breasts against his thighs

and rubbed upward, capturing his testicles first and then his dick between.

Caitlyn Willows

Mac wanted to fuck her breasts. Wanted the suction of her full lips while he

did so. Wanted to shoot his jism between those beautiful tits, then rub his cum over

them. Then let his semen glue them together while he fucked her again, true and

hard.

“Fuck me, sweetheart.”

Lori licked her lips, gaze measuring his erection. “I decide when you get fucked

and when I allow you to come.” Dipping her head, she blew a hot breath over his

balls. Mac‟s damned hips pushed his cock higher. The panties trickled down. Lori

peeled them away and traced her tongue up the underside of his cock.

Mac groaned and beat his fists against the mattress. “Please. I swear, it‟s

torture tonight.”

Lori twirled the panties on her finger. Mac suspected she was giving him a

chance to rein in some control. He blessed her for it.

“Is it, now? I could bind your limbs to these four posts and show you what real

torture is. Pull a cock ring from my bag of tricks and leave you hard and ready for

my pleasure only, until your balls turn blue from the cum trapped in them. Trapped

like you‟d be…at my mercy.” Her low, husky voice sank into his bones.

“God, honey.” His cock twitched, seeking her attention. A word from him and

Lori would do all that and more. But for him, fantasy was so much more fulfilling

than reality.

Mac snagged a strand of her long blonde hair and curled it loosely around his

finger. “Softer than the finest silk.” He tickled it over her cheek, loving the way she

sighed and closed her eyes.

He tugged gently, urging her nearer until her nipples brushed his chest hair.

Lori moaned and rubbed through it, gasping when Mac cupped her breast and

pinched her nipple.

She braced one hand on his chest and eased away. Mac was torn between

reluctance and anticipation—he wanted her now, but he also knew from that damn

sexy gleam in her eyes that she was planning something good.

Soleil

Satin panties circled his cock. Mac spread his thighs, inviting her to love his

balls with the material. Lori tied the panties around his erection instead. The

double knot lay perched in his pubic hair; the ends fluttered down against his

testicles.

“I can‟t wait either tonight.” Lori swung astride him, aimed, and seated his

penis deep inside her pussy.

Mac gripped her hips to keep her still. Fire pulsed up his cock. Tingles crawled

over his balls—they loved the feel of her ass pressing down on them. Lori braced her

fingers over his forearms, letting Mac have his way. He focused outward, drinking

in the sight of her. How was it possible she got more beautiful with every year?

He slid his fingers upward to her breasts, thumbed her nipples until she

groaned and rolled her hips. Another rush overwhelmed him. “I‟m not coming

without you, sweetheart.”

“Damn right you‟re not. You don‟t come until I’m ready.”

The command in her voice nearly made him a liar.

He brushed his hands under the curves of her breasts, over her ribs, down the

stomach she worked so hard to keep flat, yet which still retained that sweet cushion

of softness he loved.

Lori tensed when he neared the scars below her belly button. After all this

time, she should know they didn‟t matter. They never had. But they still made her

self-conscious and shoved the Soleil part of Lori aside.

Mac fought memories of his own, and with them, the fear that he and Blake

had almost lost her before they‟d gotten the chance to know her, a chance for all

this. Panic made his heart race.

Lori averted her gaze, cheeks pink with embarrassment. The want between

them diminished. Mac refused to let it die.

Caitlyn Willows

Smiling, he brushed his thumbs against her pussy lips. Her clit rested atop the

double knot—a blood ruby on a satin pedestal. Drawing her juices from her folds,

Mac traced his thumbs over the peak, first one and then the other.

“Play with your tits and fuck me, gorgeous.”

“Say please,” she ordered, seizing control once more.

“Please,” he whispered.

She rewarded his obedience by squeezing her cunt around his cock. Mac

groaned and pushed into it. Lori pulled up, away, and shoved him gently but firmly

into the mattress. “Good boy. Now play with my clit…and make it good.”

Mac managed a shaky nod.

Smiling, Lori swooped her hands over her rib cage and around her breasts. The

nipples swelled, then puckered once more. Mac cupped her hip and worked his

thumb over her slippery clit.

“That‟s it, honey. And now I‟m gonna fuck you. Just the way you like.”

Her cunt compressed around his dick, sucking the cum right to the edge of no

return. Mac clamped his jaw to keep control. Her heat and viselike grip conspired

against him. Each pounding thrust ripped at what little control Mac had.

Oh to feel Blake on the other side…

The thought made his balls tighten. Blake riding her, his cock rasping over

Mac‟s…

“Oh!” Lori gasped. Her muscles locked.

Mac stabbed his cock deep and flicked her rock-hard clit under his thumb. Lori

ground into him. With every spastic flex of her fingers into his abs, her short nails

dug into his skin. A tremor heralded her orgasm. Vaginal muscles rippled over his

dick. The sensation crawled over his balls. He couldn‟t hold back.

Lori cried out. Mac plunged into her over and over, wanting the heat and

tightness to last forever. Wanting to lay her out and pound them both into oblivion.

Soleil

He clenched his jaw against the inevitable. Squeezed his eyes tight against the

starburst obliterating his vision. He came in searing jets of sweet pleasure. Again

and again into the cradle of her body.

With a sigh, Lori settled on his chest. Mac slid his hand into her hair, gently

massaging her scalp while the afterglow settled over their gasps for breath.

“I can‟t believe you two started without me.”

Lori and Mac lifted their heads to look at Blake. He‟d arrived at some point

and now stood at the foot of the bed in all his glory, his full erection jutting out from

its nest of coarse dark hair. Judging by his ruffled brown hair, he‟d undressed in a

hurry. Deep blue eyes glimmered with humor and more than a little lust.

“Looks like you‟ve been standing there for a while.” Lori snuggled back onto

Mac‟s chest. He knew they weren‟t going anywhere soon. His penis awakened to the

possibilities and slowly filled her pussy once more. He felt her smile.

“I‟d bet you‟ve been stroking yourself the whole time.” Lori idly flicked Mac‟s

nipple back and forth, back and forth. “I‟m surprised I don‟t have cum splattered

over my back.”

Blake chuckled. “Frankly, so am I. You two looked—”

“Better than porn?” She pinched Mac‟s nipple. Tiny shock waves zinged down

his torso.

“Much better.” The bed sagged with Blake‟s weight. “Because I get to

participate.” He leaned over their bodies, pulled back Lori‟s hair, and nipped at her

shoulder.

Lori sucked in a breath and lifted her hips. Blake closed his eyes on a hard

intake of breath, and Mac knew she‟d hit pay dirt—her butt rubbing Blake‟s cock.

“You‟re determined to have cum on your back, aren‟t you?” Blake licked her

ear, then winked at Mac and eased away. “See that she doesn‟t go anywhere.”

“I‟d like to think she‟s too sated to move,” Mac replied. “But I‟ll do my best to

keep her corralled.”

Caitlyn Willows

Lori‟s soft, husky laugh broke into a little groan when Mac cupped her ass

cheeks and pulled them apart for their partner. She jerked her head up on a sharp

gasp when Blake touched her hole. “Damn, that‟s cold tonight. You‟d think after all

this time, one of us would at least warm it.”

“Yeah, you‟d think.” Blake ripped open a condom packet. Lori‟s shiver fired

Mac up a little more. Fire pooled in his groin. He spread his legs a little farther,

giving Blake as much room as possible. The condom snapped in place—a signal to

Lori he was coming, a tool for Blake to bring himself under control. Mac didn‟t know

how Blake could bear the sting. He‟d tried it once, and the pain had brought him to

his knees—and earned him Lori‟s mouth around his cock.

Mac watched Blake move closer, cock in his grip to guide the way. He had to

admit he loved the wash of pleasure over the man‟s face whenever he entered her.

Loved the feeling of Blake‟s cock sliding over his, the cushion of being balls to balls.

Loved the comfort and security of them being one—and wanted that feeling to last

forever.

Lori‟s warm breath bathed his nipple. Fingers meshed over his ribs as she

waited for Blake to take her. But it was Mac who groaned first; their groans

followed in quick succession.

Blake entered her slowly, just like always. Mac closed his eyes and savored the

sweet crawl of pleasure invading his senses. The grip around his cock increased.

Blake‟s erection edged up Mac‟s dick through the thin membrane separating them.

Blake reached the hilt after what felt like an eternity. No one moved but for the

hard breaths easing them into the moment.

“How is it that you two always put me so quickly on the edge of coming?” Lori

asked softly.

Blake didn‟t answer, and Mac couldn‟t string two coherent words together,

much less a full sentence.

Soleil

Thigh muscles flexed against his, a hint Blake had to move. Mac wiggled his

hand between his and Lori‟s bodies, wanting her to come with them. She rose up to

give him access, tearing a rough groan from Blake in the process.

Mac‟s cock pulsed in sympathy with Blake‟s. Lori squeezed her pussy muscles

around them and wedged Mac‟s hand where she needed it. They‟d done this very act

countless times during their fourteen years together. They‟d learned one another‟s

rhythms long ago, and this never got old. Each time was as good as the last. Maybe

even better.

Blake pulled all the way out to the tip and then eased in again. Mac felt like he

hadn‟t come in days. The warmth, tightness, the love that lay there barely

mentioned, all yanked him taut, to the point it was all he could do to hold on while

Blake fucked Lori and she fucked them both.

Tension balled low in his groin. There was nothing Mac could do to stop it. He

pushed his pelvis up, as deep inside Lori as he could get. Blake‟s balls slapped his.

Mac opened his eyes and saw sweat glistening on their partner, the steely

determination causing him to clench his teeth with the effort he exerted to hang on.

Someone had to go first, and Mac knew it wouldn‟t be Lori. Not tonight. That

control issue again.

Mac let go. Let the momentum blast the cum out of him. Then felt victory of

his own when Blake ground into his orgasm and Lori cried out with hers.

They collapsed seconds later, sated, complete, and panting for air. Mac hooked

the sheet and blanket with his toes and pulled them up until he could grasp them,

then drew the covers over them. Lori spooned between them and drifted off to sleep.

Mac waited until he heard Blake‟s slow, deep breathing, then let himself fall asleep.

* * *

Mac woke up the next morning to an empty bed and the sight of Lori pulling

on a pink cardigan over a matching blouse. Her long hair was secured in a severe

French twist that defied the laws of gravity. Black-rimmed glasses she didn‟t need

Caitlyn Willows

hid half her face. She wore the minimum amount of makeup necessary, a pleated

gray skirt that covered her knees, and flat black loafers.

“Hot damn.” Mac pushed up on his elbows. “I so want to fuck you right now.”

He did too, and not because of his morning hard-on. Lori looked just as hot for

her day job as she did for her after-hours work—even hotter, in his opinion. He‟d

always been amazed at her chameleon-like ability to transform from Soleil to

Teacher Lori to Regular Lori. She truly did manage to look like a different person

each time.

Mac loved them all.

Lori laughed. “Trust me. If it wouldn‟t make me late, I‟d be all over you. But”—

she walked to the bed, leaned over, and gave him a quick kiss—“I gotta go.”

“Leaving me to my own devices?” He tossed the covers back and swung his feet

to the floor.

“You‟ll be in the best of hands and all alone to indulge, since Blake was gone

by the time I woke up.” Lori hauled a huge black canvas tote bag over her shoulder.

“You‟re really going in today?” Mac knew the words might spark an argument,

but he couldn‟t keep quiet.

“I really think you‟re worried for no reason. It happened twenty years ago.

Heinous at the time, yes. But there have been many more horrific crimes since

them. I know you and Blake have your talented fingers on the pulse of everything,

but your judgment this time is clouded by your personal involvement. I fail to see

why the news media would care about that man‟s execution.” A sigh momentarily

dropped her defense shields, like she was capitulating to defeat. “Look, I promise if

anything goes on, I‟ll leave.”

“All right.” What else could he say that wouldn‟t lead to further argument?

She adjusted the tote strap over her shoulder and headed for the door. “I had

room service bring up breakfast. It‟s hot and waiting,” she said as she went.

“Unlike you,” he called to her back.

Soleil

Lori‟s bawdy laughter followed. A second later, the door closed. Panic clawed

Mac‟s gut and deflated his morning erection. Maybe she was right that it wouldn‟t

be so bad, that the day would pass without reporters cornering any of them about

Abe Webster‟s upcoming execution. Mac and Blake knew better. There‟d been

rumblings, and it was part of their job to take those seriously. Maybe that‟s all they

were—rumblings.

Mac made a bathroom run, then grabbed a white terry-cloth robe from the

closet and walked into the living area. His breakfast sat on the coffee table on a

warming tray. Lori had taken the time to pour him a cup of coffee before she‟d

walked out the door. Steam curled above it. He sat, took a blessed sip, and lifted the

dome off his plate—a bowl of cantaloupe, wheat toast, and an egg-white omelet

stuffed with tomatoes and mushrooms.

USA TODAY and the Los Angeles Times were on his left. Mac debated his

options, topped off his coffee, then leaned back with the plate in his lap and the

remote in his hand. One deep breath steeled his nerves. A click brought the flat-

screen TV to life. Dread filled his stomach while a little girl‟s voice sang out, “You

are my sunshine…”

Mac set his plate aside and surged to his feet. He stomped toward the bedroom

and grabbed his cell phone from the dresser. One punch had Blake‟s phone ringing.

His partner picked up right away.

“It‟s started.” Panicked strides carried him back and forth across the room,

while the nightmare being replayed on the morning news lived in his head.

“I know.” Blake‟s gravelly tone indicated he wasn‟t happy about it either.

“There‟s a news truck camped outside Lori‟s house. She should be all—”

“She went to work, Blake.”

A frustrated fuck splintered over the line. Mac could see Blake now, rubbing

his hand over his face or mussing his always-in-need-of-a-trim hair. His jaw would

be locked, blue eyes blazing.

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Another image flashed on the TV. Mac sank onto the edge of the sofa. “There

are reporters at her school.”

“Fuck! I‟m on my way over there.”

Blake had action hero tattooed on his heart. Mac wished he had half the balls

to go in with guns blazing the way Blake did, but one of them had to be the voice of

reason.

“Your charging over there isn‟t going to help. She promised before she left that

if there were problems, she‟d leave. You know she‟s too conscientious to put her

students in an ugly situation.”

“Damn it, I can‟t sit back and do nothing.” More words pushed out through

bared teeth. Mac didn‟t have to see Blake to know that.

“We aren‟t doing nothing. We‟re being here for Lori when she needs us.

Anything else will only make things worse.”

Blake laughed—or rather, barked out what passed for a laugh. “Nothing would

be worse than losing her. I don‟t give a damn what the world thinks of us. I only

care about her feeling safe, being safe.”

Mac rubbed his eyes. It would have been so simple if she‟d stayed here with

him for the duration. “Psychologists would have a field day with the three of us.”

“It‟s not the psychologists I‟m worried about. It‟s reporters about to make chum

out of everything.”

Blake was right. These sharks would stop at nothing to get their story of the

moment. Mac knew them well—he‟d once been one of those predators. They‟d turn

Lori‟s life inside out before this was over. Mac‟s and Blake‟s too. God only knew

what they‟d expose before the turmoil died. He couldn‟t let them ruin the life she‟d

built from the ashes. They had to stand together.

“I‟ll be there soon.”

Soleil

Blake‟s sigh filtered over the phone. “No. She‟ll think we‟re ganging up against

her. Just…just get to the office. If they‟ve tracked her to work, they‟ve tracked us

too. I‟ll…I‟ll keep a low profile at the school.” Resignation weighed Blake‟s words.

“Got it.” Mac ended the call and stared at his untouched breakfast.

That little voice sang out again from the TV. How many times were they going

to replay it before this was all over?

“And where is the little girl whose sweet voice tethered her sister from death‟s

grasp and sang of sunshine amid the bloody tragedy from that night?” the female

reporter asked.

She was his happily oblivious twenty-three-year-old niece—until she stumbled

upon the morning news today and heard her old teddy bear singing that song.

Mac buried his head in his hands. No. Please no.

“We‟ll keep you updated as the clock ticks down on a monster‟s last days. Back

to you, Carlos.”

“Thank you, Anita,” the news anchor replied. “Webster‟s defense counsel, Jack

Cisneros, has revealed possible new evidence that could exonerate—”

“Fuck.” Mac grabbed the remote and hit the Off button. How much more was

this bastard going to destroy before he was finally dead? It was time Mac circled

some wagons of his own.

Caitlyn Willows

Chapter Two

“Damn it to hell.”

Lori slowed down her van on one of the side streets to study the chaos

surrounding the high school where she worked. News trucks dotted the street right

outside the entrance. If it weren‟t for the chain-link fence surrounding the grounds,

reporters would have swarmed the concrete steps. Patrolmen now guarded the gate,

keeping reporters at bay so employees and school buses could get through. The line

down the street grew with every minute. People craned their necks for a look at

what was going on.

Blake and Mac were right. They did this sort of thing for a living—a very

successful living. In order to provide top-notch security and investigative work, they

had to consider all variables and scenarios. Why had she doubted them?

Because believing them would make it real again, and that was something Lori

didn‟t want to endure.

She flexed her fingers around the steering wheel, debating her next move.

Rage bubbled up, so thick, Lori thought she would vomit. If it would have rid her of

this escalating nightmare, she would have stuck her finger down her throat.

“Stop it,” she told herself. “You‟re better than this. Stronger.

“Control. Breathe in, breathe out. You are power. You are calm. Confident,

strong.” The mantra that Oliver had taught her fourteen years before, the one that

helped with her rebirth—with Blake‟s and Mac‟s help.

Terror subsided, but the memories rushed in, as fresh and raw as they‟d been

that night. Abe Webster had painted himself as her mother‟s salvation. Once he had

moved in with them, everything went to hell. Or rather, a deeper hell than before.

Soleil

Physical abuse had been a near-daily event. It had taken him raping Lori to spur

her mother to action. They‟d gotten away, but he‟d found them years later and

followed Lori home from the grocery store.

His pride hadn‟t taken the desertion well, especially when he thought the

three-year-old cowering behind Lori was from Lori‟s mother having screwed another

man.

People talked about being frozen in fear; Lori could have written a book about

it.

Lori pulled in another breath, held it, then let it out.

“This does not rule me. I am in control. I wield the power. No man rules me.”

Oh, but it would be so easy to cede control to someone she trusted. She glanced

at her cell phone tucked in its dash holder. With one phone call, she could bring

Blake or Mac racing to her side. Even thinking about calling them made her feel

like the helpless victim all over again, and that was something Lori simply couldn‟t

allow. She was in control of her life.

No one was going to wrest that from her grasp. Not Abe Webster‟s last-ditch

attempt to save his worthless life. Not the reporters looking to make roadkill of her

life. She was better than all of them combined, confident and strong. She was Soleil!

She flexed her fingers around the steering wheel once more, shoring up the

inner strength that had become ingrained in her bones. Indecision nagged at her.

How in the hell was she going to handle this? A stealthy retreat or a full-on attack?

Then she saw the high school principal charging toward the fray, buttoning his

suit jacket with one hand while he pressed his cell phone to his ear with the other.

Wisps of John Dennison‟s thinning black hair flew about his head, the perfect image

of an absentminded professor. His short stature and lisp didn‟t help. The reporters

would either eat him alive, or the temper he rarely showed would erupt, and he‟d be

fodder on the Internet for weeks to come.

“I don‟t think so,” she muttered.

Caitlyn Willows

Lori hit the gas and aimed her van for the news trucks. Horns blared at her for

the second time that morning, heads turned her way, and the cameras followed.

Behind them, Dennison‟s face turned crimson. He jerked to a stop just shy of his

goal, watching her through those small black eyes that hid little of his distress.

Lori put her vehicle in park, left it running, and exited it. Cameras and

reporters bore down on her. Her heartbeat stuttered. She forced her expression to

remain neutral while the age-old fear of being cornered pumped adrenaline into her

system.

A blonde cut from the pack, so determined to get to Lori first that she

stumbled in a pothole and took out all the reporters trailing her.

At least they helped her up. Lori had half expected them to stampede. It didn‟t

take them long to recover, but their concern for their fellow reporter had

momentarily cleared Lori‟s view. There, on the edge of the crowd, watching from his

black SUV, was Blake. Sunglasses covered his brilliant blue eyes. He wore a navy

blue ball cap and a five-o‟clock shadow that he knew she hated. Worry had brought

him here this morning, just as it had brought Mac to the fund-raiser last night.

Anxiety quickly replaced the relief his presence provided. His appearance

would only make matters worse once reporters recognized him. The last tidbit these

sharks needed was to link Lori, Blake, and Mac. They‟d be crucified for their

relationship. Controversy would swirl. Hints of impropriety, conflicts of interest,

possible witness tampering—the defense would seize on anything to save Webster.

Lori wanted him dead.

Then there was her child—his child—to consider. Nothing would touch her.

Not ever!

The sight of Blake spawned new emotions that were as conflicted as

everything else Lori was feeling. New strength infused her. Lori could face

anything, knowing Blake was a blink away. It‟d be so easy to lean into his

protective bulk, feel that muscled arm around her, and let him take control of the

situation. Doing so would change the whole dynamic of their relationship. The three

Soleil

of them had clearly defined roles. Lori relinquishing control into their hands wasn‟t

one of them.

“Ms. Belcher, Abe Webster claims to have compelling evidence that proves he‟s

innocent. What could he have? Some speculate it might be DNA related. How do you

feel about that?” The blonde was back in Lori‟s face, shoving her microphone so

close, it nearly clipped Lori‟s nose.

She forced a calm she didn‟t feel, leveling a cold, steady gaze at the other

woman. Lori wanted to hear her squeal in submission under her six-inch black

stiletto heels. She wouldn‟t be merciful.

“I feel many things right now,” she replied. “One is shock that all of you would

upset the school‟s routine and subject our students to this circus. I‟m very

disappointed in the media.” A clear shame on you delivered in her best dominatrix

tone. A few reporters eased away.

“And ask yourselves this.” Lori raised her finger to make her point, employing

the teacher in her now. “If Webster‟s so-called evidence was all that compelling, why

did he wait twenty years to reveal it?”

Why indeed? He was only stirring the pot, but his bogus cries of innocence

might be enough to raise other questions, and his death sentence would be

commuted. The moment Lori had lived in fear of these last twenty years was here.

Control had never been more important.

“Have you had any contact with the men who rescued you that night?” The

blonde wasn‟t going to budge.

Lori‟d bet the woman hadn‟t heard a word of what she‟d just said. Contact?

Hell, their heads would explode at the contact she‟d had with Mac and Blake.

“Do you have any idea where your sister is?”

“I do not.” It was better that way.

Lori hadn‟t seen Vicky since that night. It hurt. Hurt more than she could say.

She‟d done everything in her power to protect her “sister”—her daughter. There

Caitlyn Willows

wasn‟t a day that went by that Lori didn‟t pray she‟d made the right decision. She

wanted Vicky happy, content, anonymous, and oblivious to all of this. In reality, she

could be anywhere, anyone—one of Lori‟s former students, someone she passed in

the store, even this demanding reporter.

“If the execution continues, do you plan—”

“Enough.” Lori held up her palms. “You‟re making students late for class.

You‟re making me late for work. Please, no more disruptions. Abe Webster was an

abusive man, drunk or sober. He stabbed my mother to death, then turned on us.

When the policemen tried to help, he killed one of them. He isn‟t worth my time and

thoughts, and he certainly isn‟t worth the attention you‟re giving him. Please leave.”

Lori swung the door open and slid behind the wheel.

“Do you still have the teddy bear?” someone shouted. “A memento of some

kind?”

Lori‟s control snapped. “Scars.” She slammed the door and revved the engine.

If the reporters didn‟t move, she‟d run them all down.

She watched them surge away from the corner of her eye. All her focus was

forward, thoughts locked on what she had to do next rather than all the nightmare

scenarios that might happen—that had happened. Dennison hadn‟t budged from his

position just inside the gate. He looked frantic, at the end of his last nerve, cell

phone still pressed to his ear. She had a feeling she wouldn‟t have a job by the end

of the day. She‟d be considered a risk to school security.

A navy blue ball cap bobbed into view. Her gaze locked on to Blake. Keeping

his back to the reporters, he‟d taken a stance with the patrol officers to urge the

crowd away. Dark sunglasses might hide his eyes, but Lori knew he watched her,

poured his strength her way. Muscles across his chest flexed beneath his navy blue

T-shirt with every wave of his arms. She wanted to cling to him, feel his body deep

inside her, feel protected between him and Mac.

So far, the reporters hadn‟t noticed him. They‟d targeted her and couldn‟t see

beyond that. It was only a matter of time. Although staking out the offices of a high-

Soleil

profile security and investigation firm was a little more daunting than picking on a

high school history teacher.

The thought rankled Lori‟s nerves. She‟d held her own, shown them she

wouldn‟t be bullied.

Blake‟s barely perceptible nod urged her onward. She loved that silent show of

support, loved how it empowered her. No matter what she‟d resolved only seconds

ago, seeing him made her want to melt under the protection of his arm while he

ordered the hordes away.

Dennison waited until she‟d driven through the gate, then marched back into

the building. He was waiting for her in the office when Lori went to pick up her

morning mail.

“You okay?” he asked. Conversation around them halted.

“I‟ve had better days.” She flashed him a false smile and tucked the various

memos into her black canvas tote.

Dennison‟s smile wasn‟t any better than hers. “Yeah, me too.”

“Under the circumstances, I think it would be best if I took some personal time

until this blows over.” She couldn‟t put her students and coworkers through this

turmoil. “With spring break coming up, that shouldn‟t put too much of a strain on

the system. I‟ll finish out the day.”

Dennison stared down at her. She‟d seen this look before—relief, gratitude.

Tension seeped from his frame.

“Thank you, Lori,” he finally said. “We appreciate your consideration, though I

hate the thought of having you gone. Maybe this will all blow over quickly?”

“Maybe so.” Lori added what she hoped was a blinding smile, nodded to her

coworkers, and dashed out the door and into the stream of students and teachers

heading to their respective rooms. And if this wasn‟t resolved quickly, then what?

What would she do? Money wasn‟t an issue. Her alternative lifestyle as Soleil paid

Caitlyn Willows

very well. But teaching satisfied her soul, her need to reach out and be there for the

teenager who had no one. If she lost that…

If circumstances forced her to quit, she‟d deal with it then. There was no sense

worrying about it now.

Lori struggled to maintain that high level of decorum she‟d prided herself on.

It wasn‟t easy when all she wanted to do was scream at the top of her lungs and

tear something to shreds, preferably Webster, although right now, the blonde

reporter was high on her list as well.

Oliver‟s cure for the negative energy boiling in her gut was a stuffed dummy

and whatever implement Lori wanted to use on it. The outlet left her spent and

sobbing afterward, with little left of the dummy. She‟d used it a lot in her earlier

training. Oliver called it great therapy. It‟d helped her purge the evil festering

inside. Lori hadn‟t needed the outlet in years. It would take little to set it up. Oliver

was always amenable to such things. One call, and tonight…

Shit.

Lori had a client tonight—a standing appointment with Reginald, a regular.

“Are you all right?”

Gentle fingers touched her shoulder, yet Lori jerked at the unexpected contact,

her body instinctively geared to fight.

“I‟m sorry. I didn‟t mean to startle you.” Barbara Cardenas maintained the

light hold. The woman was an institution here at the school, having taught Spanish

for longer than Lori had been on this earth. “You stopped so suddenly and looked ill.

It‟s all so much, isn‟t it?” She patted Lori‟s shoulder. “But this too shall pass. You

are better than all this mess.”

Lori felt her chin tremble. She ordered the emotion away. “Thank you,

Barbara.” I am better than this. I am in control. Me—and no one else.

Soleil

Chapter Three

“It was a night that forever linked the two men. Now partners in the city‟s

most successful…”

Blake blocked out the rest of the newscast. He would have turned the radio off,

if not for his incessant need to keep informed on everything the news media was

throwing out there.

Forewarned, forearmed.

That motto did him little good right now. Blake hated feeling helpless. Staring

at the high school where Lori taught, he couldn‟t feel anything else. He and Mac

had spent the last fourteen years making sure Lori had the control she needed over

every facet of her life. They couldn‟t yank that away from her now, no matter how

badly Blake wanted to charge in and take over.

She‟d never know the effort it took for him to hold back. Never know how

many times he longed to shove her up against the nearest wall and pound his body

into hers until they both melted in a pool of cum. How he wanted to tear her clothes

off and suck her tits hard and fuck her—God, fuck her!—like a man did the woman

he loved and couldn‟t live without. Love her without restraint, without fear of

triggering a panic attack, thanks to that bastard Webster. Shout to the world about

how much he and Mac loved her—and finally, have the courage to have Lori really

understand that too. His feelings went far beyond a simple I love you.

But it was all about her, making her feel safe and secure. It‟d always been all

about her.

Not always.

Caitlyn Willows

No, that had come with time. She‟d been a frightened sixteen-year-old when he

and Mac saved her that night. Bleeding to death yet still fighting for the three-year-

old clinging to her. Mother bears didn‟t protect their cubs as fiercely as Lori

protected her daughter.

Lori had saved Blake‟s life that night too. Barely six years older than her, all

Blake could do was stare gap mouthed at the blood gushing from Sergeant

Washington‟s thigh. Webster‟s knife had cut deep. Blake had had his weapon

drawn, aimed at the man who‟d killed his partner, but didn‟t have the goddamn

sense to pull the trigger because he‟d been so shocked—so scared. Webster came at

him, butcher knife raised…

Blake scrubbed his hands over his whisker-roughened face, banishing the

tears memories had dredged up. Blood. So much blood. The rusty stench never

faded, even after all this time.

He tapped his cell phone to check on Mac, then disconnected just as quickly.

Mac knew where he was. If there were any problems, Mac would have called. It

didn‟t take a rocket scientist to know reporters haunted their building. What he

wouldn‟t give for a good old-fashioned, high-speed freeway chase right now to

distract them.

The reporters had had their sights on Lori and paid no attention to much else

around them. The cap, sunglasses, and scruffy whiskers were only going to get him

so far. He‟d been lucky earlier when he‟d jumped out to help the cops push the

crowd back that he‟d gone unnoticed. They‟d been lucky too. Blake had been one

stride away from yanking Lori against him and telling them all to go to hell. It

would have been the last time he saw her, if he‟d done that.

Lori liked to know her fate was in her hands alone, liked control, liked to

believe she was strong. And God, she was strong. He and Mac had never met a

stronger, more confident woman. And brave—hands down the bravest. Beautiful,

soft, sweet…

Soleil

His body tightened and sent a rush of blood right to his cock. Blake let it swell

painfully against his jeans leg rather than adjust it. The pain gave him something

else to focus on instead of his helplessness and the never-ending ache in his heart.

It was all those qualities that had drawn them to Lori over the six-year course

of Webster‟s trial. They‟d been simmering just below the surface, ready for someone

to let them loose. Friendship grew, and with it, the desire to help Lori be all she

could be. With Oliver‟s help, Lori had grown into the woman she was today, but he

and Mac had fallen in love with her long before then.

“In yet another startling report received minutes ago, Webster is now

requesting to meet face-to-face with the victim of his heinous crime.”

“Over my dead body,” Blake snapped at the radio. “I‟ll kill the bastard myself

before that happens.” Like he should have twenty years ago. God, why had he

hesitated?

“No word yet on the whereabouts of the little girl Lori Belcher fought so

valiantly to protect.”

Blake hoped it stayed that way. He and Mac had done their best to make sure

Lori‟s wishes regarding her toddler were carried out. They‟d protected her to the

max. The closed, private adoption had been relatively easy and kept somewhat to

the letter of the law. They‟d kept Lori in the dark as to where Vicky—now Becky—

was, as per Lori‟s wishes. That‟d been a hard secret to keep too.

At this rate, it wasn‟t going to stay secret long, not with that clip of the child

and her teddy bear playing—or with his and Mac‟s names out there. Vicky would

have figured it out by now and confronted her adoptive parents. Hell, for all he

knew, they‟d told her long ago. The young woman was as sensitive and considerate

as she was intelligent and beautiful. Very much like Lori. That‟s why it had been so

hard to keep from sharing.

Blake watched the kids stream from the building. The school buses were

queued up along with the reporters. He‟d been sitting here all day, waiting and

watching, if only to be the face in the crowd that Lori drew strength from.

Caitlyn Willows

Within fifteen minutes, Lori left the building and headed for her van. Her

shoulders were squared, but Blake could tell by the pinched look on her face she

fought like hell to keep the stalwart facade in place. Behind her no-nonsense

glasses, she scanned the area, looking for him. Blake started the engine and flashed

his headlights. Power coursed through him when he watched relief ripple through

her body.

She made him feel like a real man even from a distance. Blake had no choice

this time—his cock hurt like a son of a bitch. After a quick glance around, he shifted

the pike to a more comfortable position. It wanted Lori. He wanted Lori.

He watched one hand dive into her tote while she opened the van door with the

other one. The minute she slipped behind the wheel and shut herself inside, his cell

rang. He tapped the wireless in his ear.

“Hey, baby.” Movement to his left alerted Blake that the reporters had spied

him. His headlights had given him away.

“Hey,” she replied. “Long day. You‟ve been waiting?”

“I have. Ready to do whatever you need.”

Her breath sighed over the line. “I need you.”

“Oh, baby, I need you too.”

“Tell me,” she whispered. “Tell me what you‟ll do when we‟re alone.”

Not nearly everything Blake wanted. “I‟m going to kiss you slow and sweet

while I open those tiny buttons on your sweater and blouse. Then I‟ll run my tongue

down your throat while I unhook your bra. I want your breast surging into my

palm, nipple hard and waiting while your juices flood your white cotton panties.”

“How do you know I‟m wearing white cotton panties?” Her voice was a husky

tease.

“You always wear white cotton panties as Teacher Lori.”

“I could have gone…commando.”

Blake squeezed his thighs to keep himself from shooting. “Are you?”

Soleil

“Nope. White cotton. You may continue.” Humor laced every word. The minute

he got her alone…

“Then I‟ll dive under your skirt headfirst and peel them down with my teeth,

burrow my face—”

“After you shave.” The command was no tease; Blake knew she was dead

serious. Lori hated whiskers—for good reason.

“I was hoping you‟d do that for me.” It‟d give her the control she needed, calm

her, remind her that she was safe.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “It would be my pleasure. Meet you there.”

“Yes.” Oh yes!

“Since you found your way into the bed last night—not to mention my body…”

Her sultry tone sank into his veins, making his cock swell even more.

“That leads me to conclude that, since you booked the room, the alpha male in

you would have gotten a key card for his own peace of mind.”

“I did. Your safety and security were my primary concerns.”

“Always so thorough in everything you do. And here I thought your primary

concern last night was our mutual pleasure.” Her husky lure promised sex.

Blake adjusted his cock once more. This time, there was no comfortable spot.

“It was and always will be.” He‟d tried to sound as sexy as Lori, but the slight

tremor in his voice made it sound like he was beating off. “I‟ll be there in a few,

baby.”

“Sounds—” Lori sucked in a breath. “The hounds have spotted you.”

Blake glanced around. Sure enough, reporters pointed his way now, shouting

instructions to their camera crews.

“Go. I got it covered.” He ended the call and took off into the after-school

traffic, leaving the reporters standing around with their thumbs up their asses. By

the time they got their acts together, Blake would be long gone—and so would the

anonymity of his, Lori‟s, and Mac‟s relationship. The three of them were lucky

Caitlyn Willows

they‟d managed to keep it under wraps this long. When the five-o‟clock news rolled

around, all manner of speculation and rumor would be hitting the airwaves. Shit.

Mac needed a heads-up call.

Blake stabbed one number on the phone keypad.

“I see you‟re on the move.” Mac never wasted time on preliminary greetings.

“I‟ve been monitoring the GPS trackers in both vehicles.”

And doing a thousand other things at the same time. Mac could multitask with

the best of them.

“School‟s out. Heading back to the hotel. I‟ll be with her. She‟s—”

“Beat down,” Mac interrupted. “They just showed her leaving the school. I‟ll

try to join you later on tonight, if I can, but it‟s looking doubtful. I‟ve been on the

phone all day with the prosecutors, trying to pull out of them what this evidence is

Webster‟s talking about.”

“It‟s bullshit. There is no evidence. He‟s just trying to make everyone‟s lives

miserable before he gets the needle.” What Blake didn‟t understand was why

Webster had waited until now.

“Well, he‟s doing a damn fine job of it.” Mac‟s voice was muffled, and Blake

knew he had his head bent while he rubbed the tension from his neck.

“You need her nimble fingers loosening those muscles for you.” They both did.

Lori gave the best massages.

“Boy, don‟t I know it. Can‟t promise I‟ll make it, though. I‟ve got to get over to

my sister‟s house tonight, and I hope to hell the reporters don‟t follow me there.

Gwen says Becky‟s hysterical over this.”

Which meant Becky now knew everything about her conception, her adoption.

With everything going on, Gwen and Rob had probably thought full disclosure was

best. Blake could understand Becky being upset, but hysterics were over the top

and uncharacteristic. Becky had always been stalwart and stubborn. Again, a lot

like Lori.

Soleil

Fuck… Lori.

“It‟s time we told Lori too, before the media does.” They never should have kept

Becky‟s whereabouts from her this long, no matter how much she‟d insisted at the

time that she didn‟t want to know.

“I don‟t know what scares me more,” Mac said. “Lori being pissed, or the

prospect of us losing everything because of what we did back then.”

“Yeah, I know.” All too well. His gut had been in knots for weeks.

“I‟ll bring Becky to the suite,” Mac said.

“I‟m thinking Oliver‟s place in Palm Springs might be a better option for a

face-to-face,” Blake replied. It was private and well secured. Blake and Mac had

designed the security system themselves. “You and I can talk to Lori tonight.”

“I‟ll give him a call. Take care of her, Blake. She‟s got that look in her eyes.”

Blake wanted to tease and ask how in the world Mac had managed to see what

was in her eyes behind her glasses, and from a telephoto camera lens to boot. But he

knew exactly what Mac meant. It wasn‟t in her eyes; it was in the way she carried

herself—tensed for fight or flight. Lori was hanging on by a thin thread.

“I know,” he said. “I saw it too.” And it scared the shit out of him. He couldn‟t

lose her. He wouldn’t lose her. But one wrong move…

There went that feeling of helplessness again.

“It‟s been crazy around here today,” Mac told him.

Guilt burrowed deeper than Blake wanted. Talk about being torn. He should

have been helping Mac. The two of them together were unstoppable. Yet the

thought of Lori facing all this alone had been too much.

“I had to be here.”

“I know,” Mac quietly replied. “And I‟m damn glad you were. I couldn‟t have

functioned otherwise.”

Caitlyn Willows

Tendrils of emotion wrapped around Blake. This was why he and Mac were

best friends. “She has a regular tonight. Since I know she‟ll be safe, I‟ll take the

time to see what I can turn up.”

“Sounds good. Talk to you later.”

Blake tried to make sure Lori had a good lead on him, more to calm himself

and his raging caveman hormones than to give Lori time to settle herself. To give

her control meant his always had to be locked in place. Right now it wasn‟t. Fear

and desperation drove him. He wanted to toss her over his shoulder and take her

far away from all this. Wanted to storm the prison and put a bullet in Webster‟s

head—right after he beat the man to a bloody pulp and watched him choke on his

own blood. Wanted…

“It’s not about what you want; it’s about what Lori needs. If you care for her as

you say, and want to help her, then you will give her what she needs.” Oliver‟s words

all those years ago. Blake and Mac had been living by them ever since.

The reminder calmed him. His mounting road rage at the idiotic drivers

around him lessened. His erection subsided to a manageable level. By the time

Blake reached the parking garage, he was the man Lori needed him to be. His own

needs and feelings didn‟t matter. It had been and always would be all about Lori.

Blake retrieved his laptop case and his ever-present duffel bag of overnight

necessities from the rear seat. Long, easy strides toward the elevator belied his

internal need to rush. He used the key card to access the elevator, then counted the

floors as he ascended. A final deep breath propelled him through the doors once

they parted.

He‟d just reached the corner suite and lifted his fist to knock, when his cell

phone buzzed. Frowning, he tapped the wireless in his ear without bothering to

check the caller ID.

“Patterson,” he snapped.

Soleil

Lori‟s soft laughter drifted his way in stereo from the earpiece and behind the

door in front of him. “You‟re going to knock? I‟d hoped you‟d charge into the room

like you owned the place and everything in it.”

Blake growled, cut the connection, and stabbed the key card into the slot. He

opened the door to a naked woman draped invitingly open on the creamy leather

armchair and wearing a smile as bright as her infamous domme name.

“You test a man‟s patience, baby.” He grinned and secured the door behind

him.

Lori eyed the erection straining his jeans. “Show me how much.” She licked

her lips. “I want a taste.” Lifting her arms, she released her long hair from the

confines of its French twist. Bobby pins plunked to the carpet, and the silky strands

fell, looping around her hard nipples. Blake felt his cum back up to his eyeballs.

“And you expect me to walk after telling me that?” Nevertheless, he set his

bags on the floor, then stripped as he closed the distance between him, his cock

leading him all the way. But instead of admiring his bold display of weeping

erection, Lori glanced at the trail of clothes he‟d left behind.

“How in the world do you do that in less than thirty seconds?” she asked.

“What? Make a mess? I‟m a guy. Guys make messes.” And if he didn‟t get some

personal attention real soon, he was going to make a mess all over the place.

Mischief danced over her face, so much better than the dread and fear that had

weighed her down earlier. Blake would do just about anything to keep it there.

She tilted her head his way. “Mac doesn‟t make a mess. He‟s very neat and

orderly. He always puts things exactly where they belong.”

“Now that‟s a lie, and we both know it.” He motioned to his erection. “Besides,

I have something I‟m trying to put where it belongs, but you aren‟t cooperating.”

Lori giggled. “Aww, poor baby.” She reached for his cock, then drew back at the

last second. “I was actually referring to the rapidity with which you undress. Jeans

and shirt, I can understand. But the boots?”

Caitlyn Willows

“It‟s a skill. Much like the skill involved in not coming all over you right now,

when I‟m clearly horny as hell and oozing testosterone from every pore.”

“So I see.” Her gaze zeroed in on the precum gathering on the tip of his penis.

Her tongue flashed over her lips.

Blake‟s knees nearly buckled. “Come on, Lors. You wanted a taste. Here it is.

You got me all geared up for a blow job. Don‟t make me have to give one to myself.”

Her eyes widened. “You can do that?”

“I don‟t know.” He shrugged. “I never tried.”

“Aww…” More devilment flickered over her face. She wagged her finger at

him. “Now who‟s lying?”

“Okay, I concede that I might have tried once in my younger years. Did you

miss the part where I said guy, mess, horny, testosterone, gonna come any second,

with or without you?”

“I heard.” She said the words on a whispered sigh. “I see.” She raked her short

nails up his inner thighs. Every hair on his body stood on end. “Don‟t worry. I‟ll take

care of everything.” Glistening lips closed over the tip of his cock and sucked the

droplet away.

Blake gasped and clamped one hand over his midriff, flexing his fingers into

his abs in an effort to keep from grabbing her head and sliding his dick deeper. The

other hand stayed fisted at his side. He clenched his ass, trying to not pivot—a

useless effort, since the action thrust his cock forward.

Lori‟s mmmm vibrated down to his balls. She circled her thumbs up his thighs

until they were nestled against his sac. Inhaling, she rubbed her nose down his cock

to the base, then nestled her face lower.

“God, baby!” It was half whimper, half groan—and the sweetest pleasure-pain

Blake could imagine. She‟d never know the restraint he exercised, never know the

real control he placed into her hands. “You‟re killing me,” he rasped out.

“Sorry, love.” Her breath trickled over him, adding to his agony.

Soleil

She cupped his balls and gave a gentle squeeze, then a harder one that ripped

a groan from Blake. His hand snapped over hers. He forced it back to his side and

rolled his pelvis. Lori‟s lips crawled up his cock, nails dug into his ass, fingers

kneaded his balls, and those beautiful breasts caressed his thighs.

He dared to flick his fingers through her hair. She glanced up at him. His

erection was a lick from her lips. Blake traced the edge of her jaw with one finger.

“I want you, Lori.”

“I know,” she replied in that husky tone that would have made a eunuch come.

Then she sucked him in, balls-deep, and milked the jism up from his toes and all

points beyond.

His testicles tightened to the consistency of marble, so heavy now, he knew

they must weigh a ton. Lori pressed her tongue against the underside of his penis

and licked a long, hard line to his cockhead, still sucking all the way. She curled her

lips around the crown, squeezed, then dug her tongue around and around the tip

before swiping through the slit at the end.

Blake groaned and stabbed his fingers through her hair, determined to keep

her head and mouth right where he needed them. Lori released him. The room

temperature felt like ice on his cock when compared to the furnace of her mouth. He

thrust his pelvis toward her lips. She slapped her tongue over his cockhead,

tormenting Blake to the edge of insanity.

Growling in frustration, he squeezed her head and glared down. She stared up

at him through the veil of her lashes. A dare, a threat, or a contest of wills? He was

sure that look quaked fear in the hearts of her clients—and they paid dearly for the

privilege—but he wasn‟t her client. He was one of her men, and he damn well was

her equal.

“Suck it,” he ordered.

She kept the gaze a few seconds longer, then drew two fingers into her mouth,

in and out, nice and slow, until they glistened and Blake was primed to come with

the slightest touch. Lori pulled them out on a deep mmm. Eyes closed, she looped

Caitlyn Willows

thumb and forefinger around the base of his erection and slowly slid her mouth over

him. She wiggled her free hand between his thighs and cradled his aching balls. Her

grip tightened to the point of pain. She rolled his testicles like a pair of Ben Wa

balls, then thrust one finger between them while another aimed for his ass.

Lori cut off his groan with a deep plunge up his ass that surely would have

earned her a medical degree. Thank God she‟d used her spit to ease the way. Fist

tight around the base of his balls, mouth like a vacuum, and that finger pushing

with relentless vigor had Blake seeing stars no living being had ever seen.

Clutching her head, he pivoted his hips like his life depended on it. His lower back,

groin, and thighs were on fire. Lightning pricked along his skin. Then everything

drew into his testicles, imploding before it all shot out in jets so thick, Blake nearly

blacked out. Lori nuzzled her nose into his pubic hair. Fingers gripped the backs of

his thighs, and through the fog of orgasm, Blake realized she urged his knees to the

chair between her open thighs. He fought the invitation, though he was close to

collapse. He was too afraid he‟d crush her or choke her, and the damned whiskers

kept him from doing what he really wanted—burying his face in her pussy.

Somehow Lori switched their positions. As the haze faded, Blake realized he

now sat in the chair and she knelt on the floor before him. She dotted kisses over his

flaccid penis. Fingers feathered over his stomach and thighs, easing the fire and the

roar in his ears. Cushioning his descent back into the real world.

He wanted to haul her astride his lap and grind her against him until she

soaked him with her juices and came as hard as he had. Wanted to mate their

tongues, wrap himself around her, bury a fresh erection deep, deep inside. But those

whiskers she hated, the ones that yanked wretched memories front and center,

barred the way, a more effective deterrent than twenty feet of prickly pear cactus.

“I know.” She rubbed her hands down his thighs. “Just relax. You‟ll be clean

shaven in no time.”

“And then I‟m going to latch on to your little clit and suck it dry.”

Soleil

He watched her nipples harden and tiny goose bumps erupt over her breasts.

His cock stirred to life.

Lori‟s bedroom eyes approved the resurrection. “I‟d love to shave you right

here, but we‟re unfortunately limited to what‟s on hand. Come to the bathroom. I

have everything ready.” Extending her hand to him, she stood.

He grabbed her fingers, using the distraction to cup her breast with his other

hand. Lori closed her eyes, pressing more fully into his grasp. “We‟d better hurry

before I give in to the urge to go down on all fours like a bitch in heat and beg you to

fuck me.”

His dick rose to full staff. Blake stood, wedging himself into her space and

making sure she felt just how much he wanted to do exactly what she suggested.

“Lead the way, sunshine.”

He‟d follow her anywhere, do anything—and they both knew it. Blake watched

indecision war over her expression. A slight shake of her head chased it away. His

hand in hers, Lori tugged him toward the bathroom.

“Come. The water‟s getting cold.”

He quashed his disappointment as he always did. Lori was in control. It was

all about her. All about love.

She‟d been busy in the short space of time between her arrival and his. How

the woman managed to move so quickly had always fascinated him. Thick white

towels covered the blue ceramic tile floor. Hot water filled the tub. Remnants of

steam trickled down the mirror. A can of shaving cream and a razor rested on the

rim of the tub.

Lori sank cross-legged into her nest of towels, folded a hand towel over her

ankles, and patted the space. “All ready.”

Blake stretched out. His makeshift pillow gave him a great scent of her pussy.

He closed his eyes and inhaled. “I could go to sleep just like this.”

Caitlyn Willows

Lori‟s husky laughter scored heat through his veins. “Well, parts of you could.”

She bent forward and kissed his forehead. “You didn‟t get much sleep last night,

and the sleep you did get was troubled. You could do with some rest while I‟m gone

tonight.”

Blake wouldn‟t argue the point. He was tired. “I‟ll sleep after I figure out what

that bastard is up to.”

Lori tensed and leaned away. Blake kept his eyes closed. The last thing he

wanted to see right now was that haunted look in her eyes. He heard her dunk a

hand towel into the water, then wring it out.

“Not as hot as I know you like it,” she said, “but warm enough.” She draped it

around his face.

The warmth and ritual that went with her shaving him relaxed Blake more.

Had they been at one of their homes, Lori would have lathered his face with a

shaving brush. He loved the feel of the bristles gliding over his face. But her fingers

would feel just as sweet, no matter how brief the contact.

She lifted the towel. The overhead heater kept any chill at bay. Blake folded

his hands over his midriff. More tension drifted away. His erection waned. Shaving

cream spurted, and he imagined the cloud of white in her palm. Seconds later, she

dabbed it over his whiskers. Menthol curled into his nose. Blake sighed and lifted

his chin to give her greater access.

“One day, I‟m going to do this for you,” he murmured. “Have you all laid out in

Mac‟s arms and waiting. Maybe he‟ll do one leg, and I‟ll do the other. Then we‟ll

have to decide who gets the middle. We‟d be so careful. I can see Mac‟s fingers

guarding your clit while I‟d slowly draw the razor over your pussy. Of course, he

wouldn‟t be able to resist rubbing your clit any more than I could resist tasting your

juices.”

“Of course. Perhaps someday.” Her standard noncommittal response. He might

have laughed if it weren‟t for the razor against his Adam‟s apple.

Soleil

Mesmerized by the rasp of whiskers felled by her blade, Blake felt himself drift

into twilight sleep. And yet his mind worked to unravel the threads of Webster‟s

scheme. Whatever solution he discovered faded when he woke to the touch of Lori‟s

lips on his.

She traced his jawline with the point of her tongue. “No one trusts me this

much.”

Blake disagreed. Many trusted her to do much more than this—it was, after

all, Soleil‟s reputation that had vaulted her to the top as a well-respected and much-

sought-after dominatrix. But he knew what she really meant—not that he‟d fallen

asleep, but that he trusted her with his body, just as Mac did. He wondered if she

realized she held their hearts captive too.

“Except Mac,” he added.

Lori drew back with a smile. “Except Mac.” Reaching behind her, she flicked

up the stopper to let the dirty water drain out.

Blake rolled to his knees. Lori stretched the kinks from her legs, then danced

her toes up his thigh. His cock surged to life, heavy, hard, and looking for her. Those

nimble toes crept toward his penis. Blake hooked her ankle before she could wrap

them around his erection. The woman could pick up a roll of silver dollars with

those toes.

Neither spoke. He‟d made a promise, and they both knew he intended to follow

through.

Lori scooted lower. Fingers skipped over her nipples and continued on a

straight path to her crotch. She parted her glistening labia, thrusting her red, ripe

clit up for him to take.

“It wants you,” she whispered. “I want you.”

“What? No foreplay?” he teased, sliding his fingers up her leg.

Caitlyn Willows

“I‟ve simmered long enough.” She hooked her other leg around his hip and

nudged him. “Watching you fall asleep in my lap while I shaved you was one hell of

an aphrodisiac.”

“And to think I‟ve been overworking it all these years.” Blake grazed his teeth

over the inside of her thigh.

Lori ran her fingers through his hair, cupped his head, and pulled him right

where she wanted. “I doubt those delicious moans and groans I hear from you are

complaints.”

“Baby”—he glanced up—“they are a standing ovation.” Then he plucked her

clit between his lips.

“Oh yes!” Still cradling his head, she rocked into him and scooted down until

her shoulders were on the floor.

Blake didn‟t tease, but he also didn‟t rush. He rolled his prize, feeling it plump,

marveling—not for the first time—that something so small could generate so much

heat. He licked around it, loving how it twitched under his tongue and the taste of

Lori‟s smoky essence. He nibbled his way down her pussy lips, then tunneled his

tongue inside. Gasps turned to soft cries. Blake cupped her hips and lifted her

higher. She whimpered at the momentary loss of contact, then sighed with pleasure

when he suckled at her clit again.

“I need you inside me.” She gasped. “I want to come with you inside me.”

Blake looked at the towels that made up their bed. Not the ideal place. They‟d

both be feeling it later. Right now they were too far gone to care.

Lori hooked her arms under his and pulled herself down farther. Blake

grabbed her hips and guided her the rest of the way. One thrust plunged him deep.

Her pussy muscles clamped around him. Jaw tight, he braced himself against

ejaculation. Lori froze, giving him the time he needed to gather control. It only

made him want to pound into her, his primitive way of saying I love you. Deep

breaths pulled his control back to a manageable level.

He brushed his fingers over her temple. “Let‟s take this to the bedroom.”

Soleil

“You feel so good, so warm, so comfortable, so…perfect.” If she‟d been a cat,

she‟d have been purring. She wiggled her hips against him. A subtle reminder she

was the boss? It grated against Blake‟s nerves, his manhood. He wanted her now,

on his terms.

“If I fall into a bed with you now, I‟ll never want to leave,” she said.

And she had a client to consider, didn‟t she? Someone depending on her. Lori

would never forgive herself for missing an appointment and violating the trust this

person had placed in her. He and Mac had helped make Lori who she was—

empowered, strong, confident. They couldn‟t resent that part of her now, not when

this was what had helped save her. Not when this was what gave them Lori.

But he was only human, and resentment grew more and more every day,

especially now when everything they‟d had, everything they‟d been to each other,

could ruin them all. Jealousy had nipped Blake in the ass more times than he cared

to admit. Oh, he knew Lori never had sex with her clients—that was a right and a

pleasure only he and Mac earned. But she did give the individuals a safety zone, a

place where they could get everything they needed without fear of repercussion or

harm. And that’s what festered inside Blake. It was a freedom he‟d never know with

Lori.

Hell, she wouldn‟t even entertain the notion of sharing a home with either of

them. He hated not having the comfort and security of waking up with her next to

him every morning. They hopped from house to house, never staying at the same

place two times in a row. The lack of structure, her unwillingness to leave so much

as a toothbrush at his or Mac‟s house… It was a toothbrush, for God‟s sake!

“What‟s wrong?”

Her question snapped him away from his thoughts. His erection had wilted.

Worry creased her forehead. Her gaze bore into his, trying to see inside his soul.

Blake shut her out. Too many emotions twisted there.

Caitlyn Willows

“I promised to suck your clit dry, and that‟s what I‟m going to do,” he said,

more harshly than he intended. To cover his rudeness, Blake crawled down her

body, licking his way to her pussy.

“Don‟t.” Lori shoved upright. “Not like this. Not until you tell me what‟s

wrong.”

Blake leaned against the wall and stared at the towels bunched around them.

“I just can‟t do this on the bathroom floor, Lori. I want the bed. Consider it a

concession to my being over forty.”

“You‟re lying to me now? After all this time?” She sat up, drawing her legs up

beside her.

Blake half expected her to yank a towel up to cover her nudity, but she left

herself open.

He didn‟t have a response. It was a lie. He‟d fuck her anywhere and still want

more.

“Blake?” Warm fingers touched his ankle.

He stared at her hand, trying to come up with something to fill his silence. If

he touched her now, he‟d haul her off to the bed and slam into her until they both

came a thousand times, then fuck her all over again. Screw the goddamn client! He

could find someone else. Lori was theirs!

“Is it…me?” She pulled away. This time, the towels went with her. “Did I do or

say something to upset you?”

God, he hated seeing the vulnerability on her face. He‟d do anything to make it

go away.

“No.” Blake grabbed the end of the towel she clutched, and pulled her closer.

“It‟s…everything, coupled with worry and lack of sleep.” Half lies this time, but still

lies. He cupped her cheek, tracing his thumb just below the hint of a dark circle

under her eye.

Soleil

Lori burrowed into his palm. “I know. You both warned me, but I never

expected…” She slid her arms around his waist and nestled her head on his chest.

Blake cradled her to him. All the sex in the world couldn‟t compare. His jealous

flare a few seconds ago felt foolish now. All he really needed was right here in his

arms.

“You need to get ready for your appointment. I‟ll order room service while you

shower.”

“Fruit plate, please.”

“I know.” She never wanted a heavy meal before seeing a client.

“Thank you.” Lori kissed the hollow of his throat. “And something more

substantial later?”

“A lot of something more substantial later.” Blake‟s attempt at a chuckle fell

short. Lori didn‟t call him on it. They both knew it was bullshit. Too much haunted

their thoughts tonight.

Caitlyn Willows

Chapter Four

Lori sat in the tub and clutched her knees to her chest. The warm shower

cascaded over her, but the water wasn‟t enough to wash away…this. She damned

Abe Webster to every level of hell in all religions across the universe.

I just want this over.

She squeezed her eyes shut against new waves of panic. A menace like

Webster should never see the light of day, never breathe fresh air again. If she‟d

only sunk the knife a little deeper, a little higher, she would have saved California

the cost of a trial and housing the murdering bastard on death row all these years.

His lethal injection couldn‟t come soon enough.

Fourteen years of silence had lulled her into complacency. She knew the man

all too well and should have realized he wouldn‟t pass quietly into the dark night.

He hadn‟t before, and he wouldn‟t now. Webster wouldn‟t be content until he

destroyed others in the process. He‟d lain in wait all these years, a true predator.

Lori could see his victory smirk. Hear his wheezing chuckle. Imagine him

stroking his erection and calling out her name. Crawling into her narrow bed.

Threatening to hurt her mother if she cried out for help. Harsh whiskers gouging

her skin until she bled.

“Stop, stop, stop.” Lori shoved her head under the shower spray to wash away

the threat of tears. “I am in control. I am in control.”

But she wasn‟t, and Lori knew that. Webster‟s looming execution date had

resurrected enough nightmares, ones that never really died. His threats of new

evidence shook the foundation of her relationship with Mac and Blake, like he‟d

somehow discovered what they‟d done and was determined to destroy them. Her

Soleil

greatest fears had come to life. Now this new request for her to meet him face-to-

face. To what end? Verbal torture? Blackmail?

She‟d meet him, all right. Powerful, strong, protective of those she loved. No

longer the frightened girl facing a monster. Fully armed. Nice and private. And

she‟d end his miserable life once and for all. She‟d rather spend the rest of her life in

prison or on death row herself than to let Webster destroy the ones she loved. Yet

that very act would destroy them.

How could she even think of doing such a thing? She rubbed the ache in her

temples, willed her heart to stop racing. God help her, but she couldn‟t stop the

revenge fantasy. She‟d never act on it, not in a million years. Still the scenario ran

through her head. Lori felt like she was thirteen once more and cornered by a

maniac. All the martial arts training, all the education she‟d amassed, all the skills

she‟d acquired with Oliver and the confidence she‟d gained being with Blake and

Mac faded like they never existed. She was a frightened little girl with no one to run

to, no one to help.

“No.” She pulled in a breath as she stood. “I am better than this. I‟m a woman,

damn it, not a helpless little girl.” A strong, confident woman…who was scared to

bits. But no matter how frightened and powerless she might feel, Lori would never

bring herself down to Webster‟s level. Never commit murder.

“Enough,” she told herself. “You have people depending on you.” Students,

coworkers at school, colleagues and clients in her private community, Blake and

Mac above them all—if she fell apart, they‟d go nuts trying to make it right—and a

daughter who depended on Lori‟s silence, whether she realized it or not.

She‟d be a young woman now too. It was hard to imagine Vicky as a young

woman. She‟d be twenty-three, perhaps in college or graduated. Maybe married. In

Lori‟s mind, she‟d always be her little girl.

Lori shut off her thoughts. Speculating on anything about Vicky would get her

nowhere. Some things were best left unknown. She‟d done what she thought was

Caitlyn Willows

best for the child and didn‟t want that belief disproven now. Blake and Mac had

promised she‟d be safe and in a good home. She trusted them.

Lori pulled in a breath and banished all the mess with Webster, both past and

present. Dwelling on any of it wasn‟t going to help. She had a client to think about,

a man depending on her total focus. The ritual involved in preparation was a safe

place in which she could retreat.

Unfortunately, that ritual had already been shattered.

Had she been at home, Lori would have soaked the day‟s tension away in a hot

tub scented with lavender bath beads. Afterward, wrapped in her thick purple robe,

she‟d brew jasmine tea and indulge in a pecan scone drizzled with cream-cheese

icing. Then she‟d gather her costume for the night and go to the rendezvous point.

Being at the hotel threw Lori off. Nothing in the world could convince her to

lounge alone in a hotel bathtub—it was too clinical. Brewed tea and scone were

beyond her reach, and…

Lori snickered. She realized what she was doing—making excuses. If it was a

comforting ritual she wanted, a reasonable venue for that was right up in the

penthouse where she was to meet Reginald. And that was the problem—keeping her

bimonthly appointment with the man was the last thing Lori wanted to do. She was

upset, distracted, angry—emotions that had no business in the room with her

tonight. By rights, she should cancel the appointment, or at least offer another

domme as her replacement; perhaps Rachel‟s Raven could fill in. Neither option was

fair to Reginald, not tonight, when he was counting on her to see him through the

anniversary of his wife‟s death. He trusted her; she couldn‟t let him down. She

couldn‟t let Webster steal another piece of her life.

She twisted off the shower and snagged a towel from the bar just outside the

stall. There was plenty of time before Reginald arrived upstairs.

Seducing Blake would lift her spirits, restore her control. Lori would go to him

naked, her wet hair down, looking like she‟d just crawled out of the ocean and was

Soleil

on the hunt for him. That would make them both forget anything else. She‟d climb

onto his lap, release his cock, and pretend the rest of the world didn‟t exist.

She toweled her hair and glanced at her reflection in the wall-size mirror over

the sink. For the life of her, Lori didn‟t recognize the woman who stared back at her

now.

When had the years crept in? The furrows between her eyebrows, feathery-

looking crow‟s feet around her eyes, the brackets framing her mouth—all growing

deeper by the second, etching a permanent scowl on her face. How many gray hairs

would she pluck tomorrow morning? The little buggers were like weeds, popping up

whenever they pleased. Her breasts had long since passed perky. And all the

exercise in the world wasn‟t going to bring back the long, lean lines of youth. Her

body was determined to shift. Lori wished it could wipe away the past with this

transformation. And the fear that went with it.

“No. Stop.” She snapped the towel over the bar and whipped the bathroom door

open. Her life, her rules, her control.

Determined strides carried her across the bedroom to the living area beyond. A

child‟s voice singing clear and high stopped her dead in her tracks.

“You are my sunshine.”

Tears came from nowhere. How much more was going to be thrown their way

before this ended? She crept forward, more or less knowing what she‟d see before

she reached the threshold. Her heart wasn‟t prepared for the impact.

Blake paced behind the long sofa, TV remote clenched in one hand, cell phone

pressed against his ear. He jerked his arm toward the TV, silencing the news clip.

His wide shoulders sagged under the weight of whatever the caller—she presumed

Mac—told him. His muttered “goddamn it” confirmed it wasn‟t good.

Dread knotted her stomach. Lori ducked back into the bedroom before he could

turn around and see her. Whatever it was, she didn‟t want to know. She just wanted

it all to go away. Why she reached for the TV remote in the bedroom, she didn‟t

Caitlyn Willows

know. One click and there it would be, churning up all those feelings she was trying

so hard to suppress tonight.

Lori stared at the remote in her hand. One click… “I‟ll take you down, you son

of a bitch.”

“Don‟t listen to the news, Lori.” She heard the barely suppressed anger

beneath Blake‟s softly spoken words.

She turned her head but didn‟t look around. “Yet it‟s all right for you and Mac

to do so. I suppose I should simply leave it up to you two to tell me what I need to

know.” An unfair statement. They had tried to warn her how bad this could be, but

Lori had chosen to stick her head in the sand and ignore the advice. It pissed her off

to no end.

“Mac will be here when you get done tonight. The three of us need to talk.”

It couldn‟t be good news, since Blake hadn‟t budged from the doorway. Maybe

having her head in the sand wasn‟t such a bad thing after all. She slid the remote

onto the dresser.

“I‟ll be late, tired.” More excuses.

“It‟s important,” he said. “Very important.”

The words exposed her more than being nude did. They scared her too. Lori

shot her gaze around the room, searching for something nearby to cover herself.

“Fine,” she snapped, unleashing the only defense she had—her inner domme.

“Leave me. I have to get ready to go.”

“Goddamn it, Lori,” he said through bared teeth. “We‟ve been together longer

than most married people. Don’t take that tone with me. After all this time, after all

we‟ve been through, all that Mac and I have done, show me a little consideration. A

little…respect.”

Hurt buckled her knees. She pulled up anger to keep her upright and slowly

turned his way, only to find him in the other room hoisting his duffel and laptop

straps to his shoulder.

Soleil

“You‟re leaving?” The words came out a panicked screech. She locked her

knees to keep from running to him.

Lori watched the muscles ripple under his shirt with his tension. Blake

turned, his face the mask of a stranger—cold, angry… Hurt?

Confusion twisted her insides. She clutched her hands, not knowing what to

do. In all the time she‟d known Blake and Mac, they‟d never exchanged harsh

words.

“What choice do I have, Lori? You treat Mac like a doormat. You throw walls

up in front of me—”

“I throw walls up?” She splayed her fingers against her chest. “What was that

in the bathroom?”

His Adam‟s apple bobbed. “That was me realizing I‟d reached my limit, and

your attitude is the last straw. I swear your clients get more consideration and

respect from you than we do. I‟ve had enough. All Mac and I are doing is trying to

help and protect you, and you shut us out.” He stabbed his finger her way.

The action stoked her anger. “Don‟t. Poke. Your. Finger. At. Me.”

Blake closed the distance between them with quick strides, hovering over Lori

until she was forced to arch her neck in order to glare into his eyes. His heat spun

around her, laced with the scent of shaving cream. Despite her anger, her body

wanted him. Here. Now.

“I‟ll poke anything at you I damn well please,” he said. “I understand and

respect that you need control, but damn it, Lori, I need to have control too. I need,

Lori. Need. Do you have the slightest concept, the merest glimmer of the restraint

we—”

Pulling in a sharp breath, he took a giant step away. She expected him to scan

her nude body. Never had Lori felt more naked, more exposed, more at a loss for

words. His gaze never went lower than her eyes.

Caitlyn Willows

“We‟ve given you everything we have, everything we are, and you to treat us

like we‟re beneath you, yours to order around—especially when we try to help you.”

He grimaced and shook his head. “I can‟t live like that. I won’t live like that

anymore.”

Before she could blink, he was at the outer door once more. “You‟re really

leaving me?” God, she was going to throw up. Lori wrapped her arms around her

midriff. “After all these years, you‟re leaving me now?”

“Stop me, Lori,” he quietly replied. “Give me a reason to stay.”

Because I love you. Isn’t that enough? But the words wouldn‟t come. All Lori

could do was stare at him, wondering if she‟d somehow fallen asleep and was having

a nightmare. It was too surreal to be otherwise.

He gave a small laugh, a snort really. “Yeah…that‟s what I was afraid of.”

Lori swore he swung toward the door in slow motion. Time had truly stopped,

sound muffled. The slamming door sent everything rushing forward. She swayed

under the impact.

Go after him!

Lori couldn‟t move, couldn‟t see for the tears suddenly blinding her. They‟d

given up everything for her—marriage, children, normal relationships. What had

she given back?

“Nothing,” she whispered through the tears.

She‟d bound them to her, kept them captive just like Webster had her.

Wrapped them in the lies of her past and the deceit that continued. Made them live

by her rules and her rules alone. There was no fixing this. No future. If she loved

them—and God, she loved them!—letting them go was the best thing for them. Free

them to find the lives they deserved.

“It‟s the right thing to do.” And Lori always did the right thing. Why was it

that doing so always hurt so damn bad?

Soleil

She smeared her cheeks clear. No tears allowed. She had a client—the perfect

distraction for her shattered heart. Routine and preparation would keep her

focused. Later she‟d fall apart, have a good cry, maybe a long soak in her own

bathtub with a box of chocolates and a bottle of merlot.

Home. Alone. Without either of the men she loved.

Misery dragged her into the bedroom, nipped at her heels, and took more

chunks from her soul. Each time Lori ordered her pain to the deepest corner of her

mind, it shoved forward instead. Her actions were by rote—hair, makeup, pack her

things. She wouldn‟t be returning to this room tonight. After she bid Reginald good

evening, she was taking at least one portion of her life back—her home. The rest

would come in time. Didn‟t time heal all wounds?

Not all. Not those that scarred her heart. Not those that made Lori question

every choice she‟d ever made.

She ignored the fruit plate Blake had ordered for her, and instead devoured

the club sandwich and fries he‟d gotten for himself. Lori stuffed bite after bite into

her mouth, chewing only as much as it took before she could swallow. Then she

washed it all down with a small bottle of cabernet sauvignon from the minibar. And

still the pain grew, along with the lump in her stomach.

She brushed her teeth, popped a breath mint, then did a final check around

the suite before grabbing her rolling overnighter and heading for the elevator.

Fortunately, it was vacant. She used her private key card to access the penthouse

and ignored her reflection in the mirrored walls.

In mere seconds the elevator doors drew open. Ivory double doors twenty feet

ahead led to the penthouse owned and used exclusively by members of Soleil‟s

community. She used the double doors as a beacon, putting one step in front of the

other. The zone she sought for Soleil evaded her still.

She sliced the key card down the lock and pushed the doors open to another

short hallway. The darkness frightened her. Lori flicked on the lights, and her

inexplicable panic faded as golden light filled the vast two-story room ahead. She

Caitlyn Willows

trotted up the winding staircase, hefting her suitcase to the bedroom designated as

hers, a right only the highly respected knew.

“Show me a little consideration—a little respect.”

The argument took center stage again, following Lori through her final

preparations—a lacy black duster with a mandarin collar over a black satin gown,

hair held up in poofy disarray, makeup subtle except for the depth for her eyes. She

spritzed perfume and walked through the fragrance, then returned to the main floor

and lit towering branches of candles. Her final act before she pulled the riding crop

from its velvet-lined case was to insert a stormy-night CD. Thunder and rain filled

the penthouse sound system. As if on cue, the doors opened, and Reginald crept in.

Lori whipped around, tapping the crop in her palm. “You‟re late. Again.” He

was punctual to a fault, but the scene was now in play.

Candles highlighted the silver in his thick hair and the lines on his handsome

face. He shrank from a towering six feet four inches into a mouse of a man,

instantly recalcitrant and ready to make amends. This was his penance for the

years he‟d cheated on his beautiful, loving wife. The wife who had died one night

because he wasn‟t home. The kidnappers had wanted him; they got her. By the time

he‟d pulled himself from his mistress‟s bed, the deadline for the ransom demand

had long since passed. He‟d been paying the price ever since, psychologically

impotent and doing penance in the manner he felt was just.

“Forgive me, Mistress. The traffic—”

“Ah yes, the traffic.” She tapped the crop and stalked his way. “What will be

next? That you had to work late? That there was no cell coverage?” She flicked the

tip, indicating his clothes. “You‟ve kept me waiting long enough. I know where you

were, and that is unacceptable. It‟s time you learned.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Reginald edged toward his designated spot at the long walnut dining table,

which seated twenty. Dogged canine lethargy replaced his normal feline grace. He

paused at the nearest armchair and stripped to suntanned skin, placing his navy

Soleil

pin-striped suit neatly on the back of the chair. At fifty-five, he still managed to

take good care of his body. Twice-daily workouts showed in the cut of muscles up

and down his lean body. But only what they were about to do eased the internal

hurt. With his gray silk boxers folded neatly on top of his white shirt, the studio

executive was gone completely. In his place was a man beaten down by the guilt of

his misdeeds.

Lori whipped the crop against his buttocks as he walked by. He whimpered,

chin quivering. “More. Harder. Please, Mistress.”

She nudged him with the tip. “How many tonight? And detail why you need

them, so there‟s no misunderstanding.”

Reginald hurried into position, hands braced on the table, legs back and

spread. “One for every year of her life. One for every year that‟s passed since she

was killed. One for every year of marriage and every time I lied, every night I spent

with another woman, every child we never had, every dollar I ever earned.”

The request drew Lori out of the scene. “That‟s quite a bit more than normal,

friend.” He was a billionaire, and tonight was the twentieth anniversary of her

death.

“And I deserve every one, Mistress,” he hoarsely replied. “She gave me

everything. I gave her nothing in return but heartache.”

―After all this time, after all we’ve been through, all Mac and I have done…‖

―We’ve been together longer than most married people.‖

―After all these years, you’re leaving me now?‖

―Stop me, Lori. Give me a reason to stay.‖

“Damn you!” It was herself she cursed, not Reginald.

She reared her arm back in fury, felt the rage strangling her. The man

stretched out before her rested his head on the table, eyes closed, trusting her to

give him what he needed to survive and make it through another day. All Lori saw

was a sixteen-year-old girl standing between a monster and a cowering three-year-

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old and Webster ready to kill her to get to the child she fought to protect, his bloody

butcher knife raised high above his head.

“No.” She sobbed. “No.” Lori sucked in a breath. “Red light.” The signal to stop

a scene and stop it now, before someone got hurt. “Red light. I‟m so sorry. Red

light.”

Reginald spun around and caught her as she collapsed. “Mistress Soleil, what‟s

wrong?”

Lori couldn‟t speak through the agony. She curled into herself and started

bawling. Reginald lifted her with little effort and carried her to the sofa. The next

thing she realized, Oliver was standing over her.

She clutched at Oliver‟s long cotton sleeve, her eyes so swollen with tears, she

couldn‟t see clearly. “I could have hurt him. I could have hurt him.”

“But you didn‟t.” Reginald‟s soft words, not Oliver‟s. “And you gave me back

something tonight all the discipline in the world couldn‟t. You gave me exactly what

I needed, just like you always do.” He kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”

Lori didn‟t understand, didn‟t care either. Maybe he was trying to placate her

so she didn‟t suffer. Lori didn‟t have the strength to question him. She watched

Reginald‟s departure and clung to Oliver when he sat and pulled her onto his lap.

“It‟s over, Oliver.” More tears poured down her face. “It‟s all over. All of it.

Everything I knew is gone.”

“I‟ll get hold of Blake and Mac, and it‟ll all be better.”

“No.” She shook her head against his chest, knowing what little makeup

remained was smearing his white shirt. “Blake left me tonight. He and Mac left

me.” Technically, Mac hadn‟t left her, but the men were a team. How could it be

otherwise? “What am I going to do, Oliver?”

“Shhh.” He brushed a kiss over her temple. “You‟re going to cry it out, and

we‟ll take tomorrow when it comes.”

Soleil

That‟s what Lori was most afraid of. “I can‟t stay here. I‟m afraid to go home.

Blake and Mac…” Her damn chin quivered again. Would she ever stop crying?

“Then I‟ll take you to Palm Springs.”

Some measure of relief eased into her veins. Mac and Blake had wanted her to

go there from the start, even before Webster started his pathetic efforts to save his

miserable life.

The agony she could have saved them all, if only she‟d listened. No, she‟d been

too stubborn, too insistent on proving to the world and herself she could handle

anything. Look what it‟d gotten her.

Nothing.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Another kiss to the temple. “Don‟t I always take care of my

girls?”

He did, but after what she‟d almost done to Reginald tonight, Lori knew she

couldn‟t be one of Oliver‟s girls much longer. It was yet another thing she had to

leave behind for the benefit of others.

At this point, Lori had nothing else left.

Caitlyn Willows

Chapter Five

Lori watched long shadows creep over the Palm Springs basin. Sunset colored

the nearby mountains in a wash of pink and purple. It was one of her favorite views

in the world and never failed to soothe her soul. As she stood before the floor-to-

ceiling windows in Oliver‟s sprawling home, Lori knew nothing evil could touch her

in this fortress. The memories were another issue—something all the security in the

world couldn‟t banish, nor could twelve hours of zolpidem-induced sleep.

Panic still raced her heart at the thought of what she‟d almost done, of other

memories that kept flooding her head, memories that had caused her lapse of

control in the first place. Thank God she‟d caught herself in time. Poor Reginald. At

least today she was able to retake some control over her emotions and her life, make

a stand. Unfortunately, it didn‟t cleanse her as much as she‟d hoped. She still felt

empty and lost inside, missing Mac and Blake more than she could bear.

Lori refocused her suddenly watery vision and stared at the room‟s reflection

in the window. The suite, larger than most apartments, spread out behind her. Her

home away from home, and the place she most liked to be when it felt like the world

and all its dangers were too near.

Blues and golds cushioned Lori‟s soul, wrapped her in comfort. The colors were

everywhere she looked—the sweeping sitting area with its deep sofa, the equally

spacious bedroom, with its cloud-soft, king-size bed, and the bathroom, where a tub

big enough for company awaited her pleasure. She tried not to think that she‟d

never be sharing it with her men again.

She‟d yet to turn on the lights—first because she wanted to enjoy another

beautiful sunset, then because she feared doing so would silhouette her to anyone

Soleil

watching from below. She‟d hoped that wasn‟t possible at this distance. But

determined people always found a way, and she was the news of the moment. The

reporters would eventually find her, and were most likely waiting below.

High-powered binoculars could pick out a speck of dust lingering in the

sunlight. A telescoped camera lens could capture the coveted picture. A sniper‟s

scope…

Now she was being overdramatic. Her imagination was creating scenarios that

would never exist. Lori couldn‟t help it. It was her nature to consider all dangers, no

matter how implausible. She‟d learned at an early age that her survival depended

on her being aware and prepared for anything. But for all her hypervigilance, she‟d

forgotten the fact that she was, after all, only human—with all the frailties that

went with it.

She tightened the navy blue microplush bathrobe around her, pushing the

wide shawl collar up around her throat to ward off a sudden chill. Hard to believe

the temperature in the valley hovered just below the ninety-degree mark on what

had been a gorgeous late-March day. It was cooler here at the head of the heavily

palmed canyon. Oliver‟s estate hugged the mountain on a bed of green nurtured by

natural springs that flowed down from hidden oases. It was the perfect spot to

rejuvenate. Lori was in desperate need of that—and for Blake and Mac to be with

her while she did.

She missed them something fierce and had picked up her cell a dozen times

today to call them. She‟d paced the length of the suite and back a million times

while she debated what was best—caving to what her heart wanted, or letting them

go on to live the lives they deserved. It was the first time in fourteen years they‟d

been emotionally apart, and it hurt more than Lori could bear.

It didn‟t help that Oliver had some sort of gathering planned here for tonight.

The last thing she wanted was to deal with a throng of people, to put on a false

smile and help Oliver with what was most likely yet another fund-raiser. She

longed to roam the oasis and feel nature seep into her pores, letting it help her in

Caitlyn Willows

seeking a solution to the turmoil. Instead Lori remained sequestered in her suite of

rooms, hidden from the hive of activity that would be bustling throughout the house

in preparation. Now time was nearly up. Oliver had insisted she join them below.

After all he‟d done for her, Lori couldn‟t refuse. Drag her feet, yes. Refuse, no.

Headlights below drew her attention to the ribbon of black asphalt winding its

way up the palmed canyon to the house. It‟d be a straggler trying to be fashionably

late to Oliver‟s party tonight. Poor fool didn‟t realize the man thrived on

punctuality. The visitor wouldn‟t be invited back unless there was a plausible

explanation.

As for her own tardiness… Well, Oliver would forgive her the lapse. Absorbed

in her turmoil, Lori had yet to finish dressing. Her makeup was done, her hair back

in its perpetual schoolteacher French twist; it would only take a few minutes to slip

on her dress and heels.

At a light tap on the suite door, she blinked away the sheen of tears. “Come

in.”

The door swung open. Oliver‟s image was reflected in the windowpane.

“People are here. You‟re missed.” He shut the door behind him and turned on

the dimmer switch. Soft light bathed the room, bringing to life the colors she loved

so well. Her private oasis in the sanctuary of Oliver‟s home.

He watched the blue carpet, measuring his steps, approaching with caution.

Was she that fragile that Oliver felt the need to take a subservient mode?

“Were you finally able to eat something sensible today?” he asked.

Heat flushed her cheeks. The club sandwich, fries, and wine she‟d snarfed

down the night before hadn‟t take long to come back up. Oliver hadn‟t lectured her

then. She prayed he didn‟t now.

“I did.”

Soleil

“It isn‟t good to hide in here.” Oliver stood behind her now, his gaze drifting to

her French twist. “Everyone‟s arrived. Everyone important, that is.” He toyed a curl

loose at her nape.

“I‟ll be down shortly.” Lori scowled and tucked the hair into place.

Oliver chuckled softly. “You‟ll be among friends tonight. It‟s a small intimate

gathering. No need to hide.”

He knew her too well.

“Unfortunately, neither Rachel nor Julia were able to make it. I believe it‟s

been a while since you‟ve see Julia and her men.” He stood beside her, his hands

parked at the small of his back. Lori expected him to be rocking on the balls of his

feet soon. Clearly, he was up to something.

“I had lunch with them last week.” They were her best friends and closest

confidantes, but even they didn‟t know everything about her. That right belonged

solely to Blake and Mac.

“So now my girls are down to doing lunch.” He snickered. “Never thought I‟d

see the day you three weren‟t joined at the hip.”

“My, my…look at us. All grown up,” she sarcastically replied.

Oliver arched an eyebrow. His gaze bore into hers. Lori blocked him out,

watching lights twinkle on in the desert city below.

“Julia deserves her happily-ever-after. Evan, Richard, and Spencer adore her,

as she does them. Rachel and I don‟t begrudge her the happiness. In fact, we get

positively giddy when we see her with them.”

“Giddy?” Oliver‟s deep laughter filled the enormous suite. “Not a word I would

associate with you, my sweet Lori. Rachel, yes. You?” He pursed his lips and shook

his head.

“You don‟t know everything about me, Oliver. I can be giddy.” She gave his

reflection a pointed stare, silently daring him to contradict her.

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Oliver leaned her way, his gaze as pointed as her own. “Then congratulations

are in order. You are indeed a true mistress—of disguise. Tell me. Is happiness

hidden behind your cool facade as well?”

Lori sighed and looked away. She should realize by now she could rarely

engage in a battle of wits with Oliver and win. “Please don‟t mock me, Oliver. I

could have caused Reginald serious injury. I was a swing away from slicing that

crop into his back.”

“Could have, but didn‟t. That‟s what you keep forgetting to remind yourself.

That is a true testament to your skills as a dominatrix. You didn‟t let your feelings

and emotions rule your hand. You were wise enough to step away and to stop the

scene.”

All of that was true. She‟d kept her image as Soleil intact. She‟d protected the

man who‟d relinquished control into her hands. But Lori also knew the rage and

anger that had burned beneath her skin.

“Nevertheless, I‟m finished.” She lifted her chin, firming her resolve. “Which,

under the current circumstances, isn‟t a bad thing.” The growing throng of reporters

hounding her would eventually compromise the rest of their private community.

Oliver draped his arm around her shoulders and gently turned her to face him.

“Retired has a much more cultured sound to it, don‟t you think? Much more

deserving of Soleil‟s reputation.” He braced his fingertips under her chin. “And I

support you one hundred percent, but not because you feel you lost control. Or

because the news media might expose some of the anonymity associated with our

lifestyle. You, Julia, and Rachel have all lost that spark of enjoyment in the role you

used to have. It‟s time to move on, as Julia discovered when she decided to retire

her Maneater persona. I have a feeling Raven won‟t be long in following. A loss to

our world.” He smiled. “Now you‟ll become legends and goddesses. Others will strive

to achieve that notoriety. All will fail.”

Lori couldn‟t help a little laugh. Maybe one day she‟d feel that laughter inside

too. She pulled away to stare wistfully at the view. “I‟m going to miss this place.”

Soleil

Once she left the community, the upscale perks that came with it would go too. It

was only fair for those who remained and wanted to move up in the ranks.

Oliver squeezed a hug around her shoulders. “You‟re leaving the life, not me.

This is my home, not part of the community. You always have a place here. And if

you‟re thinking of relegating me to „let‟s do lunch‟ status, I will personally turn you

over my knee and blister your backside with the sturdiest paddle I can find.”

Lori curved an eyebrow his way. “I‟d like to see you try to get away with that.

You might find yourself in a precarious predicament of your own.” Another no

contest. Oliver was the bigger dom.

“There‟s the fire I love, the one that earned you the name Soleil.” He dropped

his arm and tucked his hands behind his back once more, eyes focused on the

night‟s midnight blue creeping up the sky. “You are beyond a doubt one of the

strongest women I know, Lori. I knew it the minute I laid eyes on you, but I didn‟t

realize the full measure of your strength until last night. It took tremendous

courage and sacrifice—”

“I did what was necessary for Reginald‟s safety.” Lori wasn‟t in the mood to

hear her actions lauded.

“I wasn‟t referring to Reginald.” That penetrating gaze nailed hers in the

windowpane.

“Blake and Mac deserve—”

“I wasn‟t referring to your men either,” he interrupted. “And they are very

much still your men.”

Heat suffused her body.

“Tell me, Lori, how our paths crossed.”

What game was he up to? “You approached me.”

“I did.” He nodded. “I had seen you, admired you, knew you needed growth—”

“And the rest is history.”

Caitlyn Willows

“Indeed.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. “Indulge me, Soleil. What

is the dom‟s role?”

All right, she‟d play—out of morbid curiosity. “To see the sub gets what he or

she needs. To wisely use the control the sub places in his or her hands. Open

communication to fulfill that need.”

He chuckled. “Reginald is singing your praises, by the way. He said that for

the first time, he understood the grief he‟d caused his wife. I didn‟t ask how. Who

can explain how anyone‟s mind and psyche work? He said he found your breakdown

last night very cathartic. Once he realized it wasn‟t feigned, he fell over himself

trying to help you. I believe that man would give you the moon right now if you

asked for it.”

“Well, he certainly has enough money to do that.”

“More sarcasm.” He sniffed. “You do have your defenses up tonight, don‟t you?

As I was saying, it was Blake and Mac who came to me first. Our paths intersected

through business associates. They wanted to help you. And now the rest is history.

I‟ll leave it up to you to connect the dots.”

He met her scowl with one of his own, then gave her a blinding smile Lori

didn‟t trust. That‟s when she realized…

“Blake and Mac are here.”

“Of course they are. Did you expect otherwise? You are their woman.”

Oliver‟s tone implied possession. The concept stole her breath and made her

heart skip a beat. He made it sound raw and ancient. Like they‟d claimed her years

ago.

“They arrived a couple of hours after we did, and have been resting in their

rooms. God knows they needed some rest. All of you were exhausted beyond reason.

Anyway, they‟re waiting downstairs. They‟ve been patience personified in more

ways than one. Mine, however, is rapidly depleting. You‟ve had the day. Now get

down there and be the woman you truly are. It‟s time to let all your barriers down.”

Soleil

“Be the domme? Give the subs what they need?” She meant the questions for

guidance and prayed no sarcasm showed through. Lori was confused. Who better to

ask than Oliver?

His smile softened, and he cupped her cheek. “Sweet Lori, there‟s nothing

submissive about those men. They are dominant males through and through. From

the moment they met you, those two have been dedicated to seeing you got what you

needed.”

“I‟m their sub?” It made no sense. Lori controlled every aspect of her life,

whether as a teacher or in their private community.

“The sub has the control. The sub cedes control to a trusted Dom.” Mac and

Blake had gone to Oliver all those years ago. Mac and Blake had seen to it that Lori

had the tools she needed to grow beyond the horror of her childhood. Together,

they‟d helped her explore her sexuality, giving her…everything. And yet she‟d still

kept them at arm‟s distance, afraid of what the world would say, of what the law

might do. Afraid of losing herself, when she‟d already found exactly what she

needed the day she met them. What had they asked for in return? Little. To be with

her.

Respect.

She pressed her hands to her mouth. “God,” she gasped, “what have I done?”

“Nothing that can‟t be fixed. Now get dressed. They‟re waiting. I swear you‟ve

all aged ten years overnight.”

Lori felt like it too. “I won‟t be long. Promise.”

“Good.” A crisp pivot propelled him toward the door. Oliver was almost there,

when he turned and said, “Nothing will ever hurt you here. And God help the soul

who dares to hurt you ever. If it were in my power, Abe Webster would never have

lived this long. You deserve happiness, Lori. Don‟t let him take it away from you a

second longer. Don‟t let you take it away either.” His voice was low and filled with

love and sympathy, tugging up tears she wanted to keep buried. “I think you owe

Soleil the courtesy of going out on a high note for all she‟s done for you.” His tone

Caitlyn Willows

shifted to one of command, locking in the training that had become so tightly

ingrained. “You are the only one who can give Blake and Mac what they need—a

chance to love you without restriction or fear, a chance to finally heal. Do you really

want to deny them that chance? To deny it for yourself?”

He was gone before she could muster a response, the door clicking softly upon

his exit.

Everything he‟d said was true. She‟d been living a half life all these years, or

rather, two half lives. It was time she merged all facets together, to truly live—

hopefully with the men she loved.

Lori closed the drapes and hurried to the bedroom to change. The black dress

she‟d laid on the bed to wear tonight gave her direction. Elegant, subtly flirty, and

much too dressy now. She‟d chosen it for a social gathering to help boost her self-

confidence and infuse her with power. Who knew exchanging it for white capris and

a red sleeveless blouse could be just as empowering?

She doffed the robe, then dressed and slipped on white sandals. Simple, casual,

approachable. Her smile beamed back from the mirror. One final touch would make

it all perfect.

Pulling in a deep breath, Lori tugged the pins from her hair and let the blonde

curls fall to her shoulders. Years fell away from her face. Her skin tingled, perking

her nipples.

Alive, she felt alive. The first genuine smile she‟d felt in days lifted her lips,

and her spirits soared. She pulled the brush through the waves, gave her hair a

final fluff, and tried not to break into a run as she left the room.

Carpet as green as moss and just as thick cushioned her footsteps. The

staircase hugged the wall and swept around to the floor below. Lori was halfway

down and coming around the curve, when she spied Blake and Mac pacing in

opposite directions at the foot.

She clutched the red oak banister to keep from falling down the steps. Her

heart tumbled anyway.

Soleil

All she could do was stare at the men who‟d saved her life all those years ago.

Men she and the rest of the world had designated her heroes. They shared the most

horrific night of her life and her deepest secret.

Each step brought her closer to them. She saw them through new eyes. She‟d

forgotten how tall they were, even if they‟d always seemed larger-than-life to her.

The passing of years had made them look more distinguished. How was it men

could get away with that? Hints of silver had started to pepper their dark brown

hair. Life had etched fine lines around their eyes. Lori couldn‟t help but wonder

what those eyes would look like without the shadows of the past haunting them.

They reached for her at the same time, long fingers slipping around her waist

as she lifted her arms to their broad shoulders. Their scent, their heat, their

maleness filled her senses. Here was safety and comfort, imprinted so long ago.

Want crawled through her. Like she‟d finally found what had been missing in her

life and had been too blind to see it until now.

Her heroes. Her loves. And God…Lori needed them.

They set her away from them at the same time. Lori expected to see her

feelings mirrored on their faces. They weren‟t. Panic made her heart race while she

tried to decipher their joyless expressions. It doubled when she realized neither

looked her in the eye and that their hugs had been barely more than squeezes.

Something you‟d give in social circles, not to a longtime lover.

Their shuttered expressions told Lori the painful truth—now they were the

ones to withdraw from her. Barriers she‟d once subconsciously wielded were now in

their hands. The damage was done. One straw too many for men who‟d given her

everything.

Awkwardness grew with each passing second. Blake‟s blue-eyed gaze

monitored every step she took, and betrayed none of his emotion. Like he‟d put up

the walls he‟d rightly accused her of having. Mac rubbed his chin. Lori blanked on

what to do next. Professions of love and devotion seemed too little, too late, and it

Caitlyn Willows

was the wrong moment for anything physical. Besides, Lori felt too self-conscious to

reach out that way.

“We need to talk,” Mac finally said.

Not words to inspire hope, not when they were laced with an undertone of

dread. They fell in the same category as I’ll call you in the morning; I like you as a

friend; it’s not you, it’s me. Lori was half tempted to retreat upstairs and shut

herself in the bedroom. Running was so much easier than dealing with personal

issues that threatened her control, and it had very nearly cost her the men she

loved. Hell, it looked like it already had. The only way to make this better was to let

them go, cut the cord.

Not like this. Not without a… A what? A fight? The last thing Lori wanted was

to fight with them. Begging was out too. Damn, she‟d never been more confused in

her life.

She mentally squared her shoulders. Mac and Blake had proven themselves a

thousand times over that they were more than worthy of her. It was time Lori

showed she was worthy of them, admit to her mistakes and inconsideration. She at

least owed them an apology. They could move on—or not—from there.

A flash of movement to her right snapped Lori‟s attention toward Oliver‟s patio

on the far side of the open living room. New confusion followed as she tried to figure

out why Oliver would stick a mirror in the bank of floor-to-ceiling windows. Ego

came next when Lori decided she really looked younger from a distance. Then

realization hit her at the same moment Lori recalled she wasn‟t wearing jeans,

though the red shirt was similar on the young her in the “mirror.”

“Oh my God.” She pressed her fingers against her lips to steady their

quivering. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears; tears rushed in next. “You found

her. You found Vicky.”

Soleil

Mac tucked his fingertips into his jeans pockets. “It wasn‟t hard, since she was

never farther than my sister‟s house. Her name is Rebecca—Becky. Since she never

could pronounce the V, it was an easy transition.”

Blake‟s deep breath behind her rippled through Lori‟s hair. “You asked us to

protect her, and that‟s what we did. Mac‟s sister and her husband didn‟t hesitate.

Since there was no birth certificate, no record of her birth anywhere, the closed

private adoption was easier to accomplish than we imagined. You don‟t know how

hard it‟s been to not tell you, but you were very specific that she be protected at all

costs.”

“And since you never wanted to make our relationship public, even to family,

we gave up hoping your paths would ever cross.” Resignation weighed Mac‟s voice.

“I‟m so sorry,” she cried. “I took so much away from you, been so selfish, so—”

“Shh,” they said in unison and alternately placed a hand on her shoulders.

“She knows?” Lori had cried more in the last twenty-four hours than she had

in a very long time.

“She does,” Mac replied. “Her parents told her bits and pieces through the

years, filling in more and more of the details as she grew old enough to understand

them, but they never gave her any identities.”

Until Webster‟s latest crap dredged up old news footage. Poor Becky.

“She still has that raggedy old teddy bear.” Mac chuckled. “Thanks to Uncle

Blake here, it still sings.”

Lori glanced up at Blake, expecting a sheepish grin, and still found worry

etched in the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth. “We… This thing with

Webster… Becky…”

“Becky went to see him,” Mac quickly said.

“How? Why?” My God, why?

Caitlyn Willows

Blake clucked his tongue. “She had a full DNA workup done on herself.

Through a friend of a friend, she somehow managed to find the match from the

evidence all those years ago. Apparently her investigative techniques rival our own.

She said she wanted to see if Webster was as bad as reports painted him.”

“And she got her answer in spades.” Mac‟s shoulders drooped. Lori had never

seen him look so tired before. “In addition to being upset with what her visit stirred

up, Becky‟s also worried about bad genes, turning out like Webster.”

“But”—Blake feathered his fingers through Lori‟s hair, then rested his hand

against her lower back—“we‟ve reminded her that she has your blood too, and

there‟s not an ounce of bad in it.”

Lori clung to that thread of hope. Maybe it wasn‟t too late for them. They‟d

been together all these years, her heroes. Protecting Vicky—Becky—when they

barely knew Lori. Standing by her side through the awful trial process when her

father and his wife had virtually deserted her. Approaching Oliver because they

wanted to help her more. And somewhere during those years, she‟d fallen in love

with them. That couldn‟t all be gone, could it? Though considering Lori hadn‟t given

them back nearly as much as they‟d given her, maybe it was.

She turned to face them both, placing her palms on those strong, broad chests

that had borne so much for her over the years. “I love you. I love you. So much. So

very, very much.”

They heaved a sigh in unison, almost like they‟d dropped a weight from their

shoulders. Maybe they had.

“I love you too,” they said together.

It wasn‟t the forceful declaration she‟d hoped, but said as if they‟d uttered the

words a thousand times. Lori grasped at the thread of hope that all wasn‟t lost, that

they could grow stronger, overcome the hurdle life had thrown in their paths.

Emotions swirled around them, memories, hope, and the joy of being reunited with

the daughter she‟d never expected to see again. The little girl who was never farther

Soleil

than the protection of the men Lori loved. What need was there for a forceful

declaration when the proof of how very much they cared stared at them from the far

patio?

“Now come.” Mac turned her toward the door. “It‟s time to meet your beautiful

daughter.”

“Good,” she choked out. “Because I don‟t think I can wait a second longer.”

Caitlyn Willows

Chapter Six

I love you. I love you. God, Lori would never knew how much those words

meant to him, but Mac intended to spend the rest of his life showing her.

Relief seeped into Mac‟s muscles. The moment he‟d feared for twenty years

was here. What would Lori do when she discovered he and Blake had hidden her

daughter no farther than his sister‟s home? Logic had argued that Lori would be

thrilled the child had a loving home. Doubt said otherwise, suggesting she‟d be

furious that he‟d had Becky all this time and never uttered a word to Lori, that

she‟d think he had ulterior motives or that Becky wasn‟t far enough away from

Webster‟s reach. Or she‟d be furious that he and Blake had had to tell Gwen and

Rob the whole truth about Becky‟s conception.

Lori wanted no one to know Webster had raped her and gotten her pregnant.

Though she had to realize the doctor‟s physical examination might have revealed

both. But considering the severity of her stab wounds, the doctor probably hadn‟t

paid attention to anything else.

Mac never questioned Lori‟s rationale at the time and still didn‟t. If Lori‟s

biological father and stepmother knew, they apparently didn‟t care enough to

pursue it. No surprise there—Sean and Lucille Van Ness had only taken Lori

because their public image would have been raked over the coals if they didn‟t.

Mac had his defense prepared should Lori be upset now. He and Blake had

done exactly as she‟d asked—put Becky somewhere safe, somewhere Webster could

never touch her, someplace so secret, even Lori didn‟t know the whereabouts. He

was prepared to tell her how damned difficult it had been to keep their promise, to

watch Becky grow into the image of her mother and never tell Lori how wonderful

Soleil

the girl was. Then there was Gwen and Rob‟s fear that somehow, Becky‟s and Lori‟s

paths would cross, and they‟d lose their little girl to her biological mother. Even now

they stood side by side, Rob‟s arm tight around his wife to ward off what they felt

was the inevitable.

Hesitant steps brought Lori and Becky closer. No one else moved. Hell, Mac

wasn‟t sure they even breathed. Oliver hovered on the edge of the scene. Mac had

never heard the man as angry as he‟d been when he and Blake told him the full

story—that Webster had raped Lori, and that Becky was the result. Something even

Webster hadn‟t realized until Becky showed up at the prison wanting answers.

Lori and Becky stopped within inches of each other, both unsure. The

resemblance between them had never been denied—looks, mannerisms, speech—

but this close, it was spooky.

“I remember you,” Becky whispered. “Singing to me, playing with me. We got

Teddy at a carnival.”

Lori pressed her fingers against her lips, a nervous habit whenever emotion

got too much for her. “Popping balloons with darts.”

“Everyone stopped to watch. People were clapping, cheering. It was the

happiest day. No one could throw better than you. You hit every one.”

The ability had helped Lori land a butcher knife in Webster‟s back. It hadn‟t

stopped him, but it had slowed him down.

Mac watched a tear trickle down Lori‟s cheek. It matched the one on Becky‟s.

Hell, who was he fooling? They were all close to bawling, except Oliver. He was

most likely plotting ways to end Webster‟s miserable life. If anyone could do it and

get away with it, it would be Oliver.

“I‟d always wished for you to never remember anything bad,” Lori told her.

Becky shook her head. “I don‟t. I don‟t remember much of anything except the

carnival. That‟s why I found it so impossible to believe. I‟m sorry. I‟m so, so sorry.

This crap with Webster is all my fault. I know I was stupid.”

Caitlyn Willows

“Well…” Lori dropped her hand to her side and pulled in a slow breath. “It

wasn‟t the wisest course of action, but I understand.”

“Please, whatever you do, don‟t chew me out. I‟ve had enough lecturing from

these four to last a lifetime.” Becky‟s chin quivered, reminding Mac too much of the

night he‟d placed her into Gwen and Rob‟s loving care.

“Chew you out?” Lori gave a small forced laugh. “I‟d say meeting that man

face-to-face was enough of a reality check.”

“I didn‟t think anyone could be that bad. He had to have some redeeming

qualities. I was so wrong. He‟s true evil. It made me sick inside—the things he said

to me. The look in his eyes.”

“I know.” Lori reached for her. “All I want to do is hug you.”

“That‟s what I want too,” Becky said and fell into Lori‟s open arms.

“I just wanted you safe,” Lori choked out. “I can‟t believe how beautiful you

are.”

“I look just like you,” Becky said. “What…what do I call you?”

Smiling, Lori put her at arm‟s length. “Lori. It‟s what you‟ve always called me.

It‟s what‟s right. They”—she motioned her head in Gwen and Rob‟s direction—“are

your mom and dad.” She flicked away her tears and walked toward them, hand

extended. “There aren‟t enough words for me to express how grateful I am.”

“We‟ve loved her from the minute we saw her. You did a wonderful job with

her.” Rob grasped Lori‟s hand. “I‟m Rob Smith. This is Gwen.”

Lori shook Gwen‟s hand, then hugged her. “You both look so much like her.”

They did. Gwen‟s light brown hair, Rob‟s blond… Few people realized Becky

was adopted.

Oliver cleared his throat. Seeing the man choked up was a unique experience.

“I‟ve taken the liberty of having hors d‟oeuvres prepared. Let‟s go to the sunporch

and get to know each other better while we enjoy the nibbles with some wine.”

Soleil

“Thank you, Oliver.” Lori extended her hand to Becky. “I want to hear all

about you.”

Becky grabbed hold with both hands. “And I want to know everything about

you.”

Now that would be an interesting conversation, Mac thought. I’m a high school

teacher by day and a dominatrix by night. I’m in a ménage with your uncle and his

best-friend-slash–business-partner. Mac‟s tension doubled, and his stomach added

its turmoil to the mix.

Oliver swept his arm toward the sunporch, where everything had been set out

for them. “We also need to decide how we‟re going to deal with this Webster issue.”

Lori‟s chin came up. Mac braced himself for battle.

“I‟ve already made that decision.” Lori‟s tone defied anyone to refute it too. “I

speak only through my attorney. I called her this afternoon. End of story. Webster‟s

intent is malicious. I have nothing to hide. I beat that demon long ago, and I‟ll be

damned if I kowtow to him again. I am the only one who has control over my life,

and I refuse to release it to another person.”

Blake snorted and shook his head. He started for the house, then did an

abrupt pivot and charged down the flagstone path that led to Oliver‟s putting green.

Mac stared at Lori‟s wide eyes, wondering if she truly understood how deep her

declaration cut. Wondering if he could even explain that to her when he couldn‟t

coherently explain it to himself. It wasn‟t really about domination or control. It was

about trust. After all they‟d been through and shared, Lori still didn‟t trust them

enough to release control. And Mac realized she never would.

“Excuse me,” he muttered and followed Blake.

Blake had gone no farther than the first stone bench at the entrance to the

small green. He sat on the edge, forearms on knees, staring into space. Mac sat

beside him but said nothing.

“She treated me like I was beneath her last night,” Blake said after a few

seconds had passed.

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“You know that‟s her defense whenever she‟s afraid of something.”

“I know,” he quietly replied. “But it doesn‟t make it any easier to take.”

No, it didn‟t.

“The look on her face last night before I walked out…” He slowly shook his

head, as if he couldn‟t believe it himself. “Like she was daring me to leave. All she

had to do was give me one reason, any reason to stay…but she didn‟t.”

They‟d been over this on their early-morning drive to Palm Springs. They‟d

followed Oliver‟s advice and not rushed to Lori‟s side. It hadn‟t been easy, knowing

how upset she‟d been after Blake left, but Oliver insisted the next step had to be

Lori‟s. He‟d never been wrong, not in all the years they‟d known them. Yet Lori‟s

next step never came, not until Oliver compelled her to come down those stairs

tonight.

It scared the fuck out of him.

“What is she saying, Mac? That she loves us but only on her terms?” Blake

demanded. “What the hell kind of relationship is that, where one party can‟t speak

his mind? Maybe I fucked up, but damn it, she has to know how her actions affect

others. Isn‟t that her fucking claim to fame?”

Mac could argue that one was business and the other personal. They‟d

accepted the distinction in the past. Hell, they were the ones who had helped

introduce her to the lifestyle. They could hardly tell her after all these years that

they were starting to resent…

Another painful truth smacked him in the solar plexus.

“Oh shit.” Mac buried his head in his hands.

“What?” Blake ducked, trying to catch Mac‟s gaze. “What‟s wrong?”

“Besides the fact we‟re stupid and we‟ve fucked up more than we realized?”

Blake snickered. “Yeah…besides that.”

Mac‟s sigh righted them both. “In all these years, we‟ve never once said

anything to Lori about our feelings. True, we may have disagreed on issues.”

Soleil

Specifically, the recent crap with Webster. “But we‟ve never pressed her on

anything else.”

“Until last night.” Blake pinched the bridge of his nose.

Mac couldn‟t fault Blake. Lori was in the wrong with her queenly attitude, no

matter how driven by fear it might have been. But to throw an ultimatum in her

face when she‟d never been given a hint something was wrong, and at a low point

for her…

“God, what must she be thinking?” Blake rubbed his hand down his face. “No

wonder she doesn‟t trust us. I never should have walked out, but…I was too afraid

to stay.”

Mac brushed his hand over Blake‟s back. “Afraid? Of what?”

“I don‟t know.” He shrugged. “What I‟d say or do next? I wanted to yell. The

effort to keep it in…”

Mac knew that effort well. All in the guise of not frightening her, when in

reality, they were the ones who were scared—of losing her. He and Blake wanted

her complete trust, both in and out of the bedroom, yet they‟d neglected to give her

the very thing that would help earn that trust—complete honesty.

“We seriously need our asses kicked,” he mumbled.

“Oliver‟s probably chomping at the bit to do that.” Blake cracked his neck, then

did the same with his knuckles. It was a telltale sign he was preparing to take

action.

“I‟m sure he‟s been fascinated, watching us all flounder over the years, content

to watch us hoisted on our own petard.” It was a humbling position. “Now what?”

Blake stared into the night. “We go back in there and do as Oliver suggested—

wait for Lori‟s next move.”

Mac stood and stuffed his fingertips in his jeans pockets. “Oh, I‟d say she‟s

made her next move with her little statement back there.”

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Blake stretched to his feet. “Well, I don‟t have any other ideas, other than

tossing her over my shoulder and hauling her off to the bedroom to give her the

fucking of her life.”

Mac laughed. Something like that was sure to get their balls cut off and shoved

up their asses.

Blake grinned. “Too much testosterone?”

“A bit. Maybe we can find some middle ground here.”

Mac started for the flagstone path. Blake fell in step.

“We need to do something,” Mac told him. “Even my patience is wearing thin.”

“Then it‟s time to put all our cards on the table. Full disclosure. It would help

to know what‟s on her mind right now.”

“She‟s probably thinking that same thing, Blake. After all, you are the one who

walked out.” And started the emotional breakdown that had led them here tonight.

“A mistake I fully admit to, but I did mean every word.” Blake ground out each

syllable. The security lights cast sharp shadows over his clenched jaw.

Mac flexed his fingers, stoking his tension, steeling his resolve. “Our other

mistake was not speaking sooner. That won‟t happen again. You‟re right; it is time

we claimed her. Not necessarily drag her off to fuck, but in a way that shows her…”

What?

Blake clapped his hand over Mac‟s shoulder. “Show her with all our walls

down. No fears. No worries. Just…love.”

“Yes.” Mac nodded. “Love.” Because they both loved her so much, it hurt when

they were apart. “What if she can‟t accept us walls down?” He could barely stand to

say the words out loud, but if Blake had a backup plan—

“I don‟t know.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “I honestly don‟t know.

God!” He jerked to a stop and leaned over, hands on thighs as he gulped for air. “I

can‟t breathe.” Just as quickly Blake pulled upright, sucking in a breath.

Mac did the only thing he could do—hugged him. “Me neither.”

Soleil

Blake hugged him back. “Thanks, buddy.” He tensed and pulled away. “The

others are watching us from inside.”

Mac turned. Four yellow-cushioned bamboo sofas formed a rectangle on

Oliver‟s sunporch. Everything was set for a relaxing meal and conversation. It was

one of Oliver‟s favorite places to gather with close friends. Gwen and Rob sat on the

sofa adjacent to Oliver‟s. Becky on the third sofa. Only Lori stood.

Gwen, Rob, and Becky were all smiles when they spied Mac and Blake. Oliver

looked amused. Behind them Lori clutched a glass of wine in a white-knuckled hold

that threatened to break the crystal. The open screens allowed the night breeze

through, but Lori‟s skin shimmered with perspiration. Mac craved a taste of it. He

wanted to lick up the salty sheen until she squirmed beneath him. Fire built in his

groin.

Lori‟s gaze never wavered from Mac and Blake, and he swore he could hear

her heartbeat in every step they took as they made their way back. She‟d watched

for them, waited, her expression unreadable.

Food and drink were spread out on the long bamboo coffee table between the

sofas. Everything was in easy reach. Was Lori? Her position behind the farthest

sofa gave her a quick escape route, if she wanted it. It also gave her easy access to

the sliding door when he and Blake walked in. What he hoped was relief shifted

through her body. She took a step forward when they walked in, her thumb idly

caressing the bowl of the wineglass. That‟s when Mac knew that if it weren‟t for his

family, Lori would have been in their arms. He heard Blake‟s sharp inhalation; he

knew it too.

Mac sank into the empty sofa to hide his growing erection. Blake sat one

cushion over. The invitation couldn‟t have been more clear to Lori—come sit between

us. Blake leaned forward, then started to fill a small plate with a selection of hors

d‟oeuvres. Looked like they were having the same predicament trying to mask their

erections. Mac doubted if either of them was successful in doing so.

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Becky placed her fingers on Mac‟s knee. He jumped at the sudden contact.

When had she slid near him? She looked at him with puppy-dog eyes, and though

Mac read it as concern, alarm spiked through him.

“Are you two okay?” she asked. “I would hate to see you break up.”

Oh shit. Was she saying what he thought she was? Mac decided to play dumb.

“Break up?”

“Yes, you‟ve been partners my whole life. I would hate to see that end.”

Fuck! Mac waved her concern away and reached for the merlot. “Nothing to

worry about. The business is sound.”

Gwen cleared her throat. “No, Mac. That‟s not what she means. Partners.

Significant others.”

Blake froze midway through a bite of miniquiche. Mac looked up in time to see

Oliver hide a smirk behind a sip of wine. Lori‟s eyes were as wide as her mouth as

she stared at Mac‟s sister.

Rob leaned forward. “We‟ve always respected your privacy. You didn‟t have to

say anything, but it was pretty clear. The two of you are together constantly. You‟ve

never married, never dated, never mentioned any women. We figured it out years

ago.”

Blake started choking. Instinctively, Mac reached to slap his back, then jerked

his hand away before he could do so. Blake flicked his fingers toward Gwen, Rob,

and Becky. His message was clear—fix this! Playing dumb was no longer an option.

“No no no.” Mac waved his hands, warding them off. Jazz hands? He clamped

his palms to his thighs. “No no no.”

“It‟s okay.” Gwen sank to her knees before him. “It‟s okay. We love you. We‟re

just happy you have someone to spend the rest of your life with.”

Blake frantically shook his head, tears pouring down his face as he tried to

stop choking.

Soleil

“They do have someone to spend the rest of their lives with.” Lori‟s scent

drifted around Mac. Until then he never realized she‟d moved. Her presence cut

through his panic. The cushion between him and Blake sank with her weight. Her

heat wafted over the right side of his body; her breast brushed his upper arm.

“They have me,” she said. “Mac and Blake aren‟t gay. Definitely not gay. The

three of us have been together for the last fourteen years. I don‟t see that

changing…ever.”

God, she did love them! Mac slid his hand to her thigh. Electricity sizzled up

his arm, connecting them.

Gwen‟s gaze darted to his hand. A frown pulled her eyebrows closer. “You‟re

a…a—”

“A trio. A ménage.” Lori rubbed her hand over Blake‟s back. “Need the

Heimlich? I‟d suggest Mac help you out, but I suspect at this point, you‟d rather

choke to death than have him butt up behind you.”

Blake waved off the suggestion and reached for Lori‟s wineglass. It might have

been funny in other circumstances. It would be funny down the line.

Lori relinquished her glass without a word, then leaned back and placed her

other hand high on Mac‟s thigh. Her arm was under his, her breast pressed into it.

His erection swelled in the opposite direction, weeping with regret it wasn‟t under

her touch.

Gwen eased back into her seat. “Oh, I see.”

Lori chuckled. “I doubt it. It‟s a harder concept to grasp than if they were gay.

Add to it my tie to Becky and the fact you‟ve never met me… I imagine it even hurts

a little that so important a relationship was never shared with you. As I‟ve

discovered in the last twenty-four hours, it‟s often very hard to share everything,

even with those we love more than life itself.”

Blake pulled in a deep breath. “We do love each other—more than life itself. I

can‟t begin to tell you the host of reasons why we chose to keep it a secret. Some of

them I‟m sure you can guess; others are best left unspoken. But—”

Caitlyn Willows

“They did it for me,” Lori said.

Her fingers drifted idly over Mac‟s thigh, burning his skin beneath the denim,

tripling the predicament he knew everyone could see. Her other hand did the same,

nails raking over Blake‟s back.

“It‟s all been for me from the moment we met, at the risk to their careers and

reputations and at the expense of their own feelings.”

“Which is our own fault for not speaking up.” Blake refilled her glass and set it

on the table before her. “But as with all relationships, when you‟re committed, you

have to work together to overcome the rough spots. No walking away.”

Lori‟s grip tightened on Mac‟s thigh. He dropped his hand over hers and

squeezed. “No walking away,” she replied, then alternately kissed Blake and him.

“So”—Becky leaned forward—“how does that work? What if you get pregnant?”

“That‟s not possible,” Lori quietly replied. “My injuries were so severe, the only

choice was a hysterectomy that night.”

Becky‟s hand covered her gasp, but the horror blazed from her eyes. “How

could she have ever been with that man?”

Lori wrapped Becky‟s hand in both of hers. “People make mistakes. You have

to understand that my mother wasn‟t the greatest. She had plenty of faults and

made very bad decisions. But when she found out that Webster had raped me and I

was pregnant, she did her best to get her act together and get us the hell away from

him. Getting us away was all she managed. She continued to be a wreck. We did the

best we could. Then he spied me at the grocery store, followed me home, and… I‟m

grateful you don‟t remember the terror from that night. My mother tried to buy me

time to get away with you, but it all happened so fast. The details are something I

don‟t want to share with you, but I will if you insist on knowing.”

Becky shook her head.

Lori took a deep breath. “I would have died if it weren‟t for Mac and Blake.”

Lori lifted her hands to their faces. “They are my men, my loves. I told them to

Soleil

protect you at all costs. I told them the truth, begged them to make you safe. They

were barely older than me, their first night on the job. They‟d only met each other

hours before, and they sure as hell didn‟t know me. Some force was working out

there to bring us all together. Miracles don‟t need to make sense to happen. I‟m not

letting my miracle go for anything, and I‟m also done hiding our relationship behind

closed doors. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I have two men who love me more

than anything else in this world, and I love them right back.”

“The news media will have a field day with you when they get wind of this,”

Rob told her.

Mac glanced Lori‟s way. She gave Rob a look that was pure Soleil—eyebrow

curved, the hint of a smile. God, she gave Mac shivers. What man wouldn‟t want to

be on his knees before her?

“I look forward to the challenge of having that first stone cast,” she said, her

smile widening. “Glass houses, you know.

Now”—Lori lifted the wineglass—“let‟s really get to know one another.” She

kicked off her sandals, tucked her feet beneath her, and snuggled into the space

between Mac and Blake.

Caitlyn Willows

Chapter Seven

Yes, this was bliss! Lori praised whatever gods had guided her tonight. It sure

hadn‟t been Oliver. He‟d dismissed her with a shrug the instant she had realized

her declaration of strength and resolve had come out very, very wrong. She‟d looked

to him for a clue when Blake, then Mac stormed down the path and into the dark.

Oliver had given her nothing, seemingly content to let her figure this one out on her

own.

Some mentor he was.

Indecision had clawed at her gut. Should she run off after them and try to

explain she hadn‟t been talking about them? Her feet had rooted her in place. In her

heart, Lori had known words wouldn‟t be enough, though they would help. What the

three of them needed was privacy and a long, hard talk about everything. When

Blake and Mac came back—if they came back.

So she‟d forced herself to go onto the sunporch with the others, poured herself

a glass of pinot grigio, and waited, eyes locked on the path for their return. She‟d

been more or less oblivious to the stilted conversation between the Smiths and

Oliver. Clearly, they were bothered by the tension that had sprung up. Lori had her

own worries to deal with and couldn‟t summon the wherewithal to soothe anyone

else‟s.

Her heart had leaped when she finally saw Mac and Blake stalk in from the

night, looking deliciously dangerous. Lori imagined the looks in their eyes screamed

of their hunger for her. The flex of muscles and the hint of swagger in their gaits

seemed to support that conclusion. A quiver had built inside her. Her body had

come to life, singing with joy that all wasn‟t lost. Her pussy had swelled and

Soleil

moistened at the hope they‟d charge through that door and sweep her off for a night

none of them would ever forget.

Lori had pressed her thighs tighter, trying desperately to quell the ache. There

were other issues that needed more focus, and getting fucked by Mac and Blake

shouldn‟t be at the top of that list. Shouldn’t be, but was.

She scolded her lust. Her daughter was here. They had so many things to talk

about, so much to learn about each other. True, they couldn‟t share twenty years of

living in one night, but they needed a good start. This was it. She‟d never expected

to see Vicky—Becky—again. Thanks to Mac and Blake…

God, the things they‟d done for her!

Pleasure had slithered through Lori when the door opened, and Mac and Blake

walked in. She had darted a glance in the direction of their groins and saw what

awaited her.

Take me! she‟d wanted to scream and tried to calm herself with a sip of wine

while her men did their best to cover those massive erections by sitting on the sofa.

Love had energized Lori when they left the seat between them open. She had

wanted to leap over the furniture between them and sink into it—sink between

them.

The grand misunderstanding had given Lori the impetus she needed. She had

claimed Blake and Mac as hers, and though it wasn‟t a public announcement, it was

personal enough they now knew how very much she loved them. Sitting here

between them, Lori wished she‟d done it years ago. Nothing felt more perfect.

They‟d wasted little time closing the minuscule distance between them when

Lori sat down. Hard thighs still pressed against her, branding Lori as theirs for all

time. Their auras curled over her like a knight‟s shield of protection. Warmth

blanketed her, reminding Lori all too well of how hot and slick the three of them

were when physically bound. She was drunk on the scent of them—the kiss of

desert air that had clung to them from their time outside, Mac‟s and Blake‟s

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aftershave lotion, and the testosterone that wove it all together. God…it was

enough to make a woman come—right now.

Lori pulled in a shaky breath to calm her overactive hormones. She wasn‟t

foolish enough to think everything was fixed. They clearly had work to do on their

relationship. The fact the three of them sat here now, like this, showed they were all

willing to open communication and tear down the walls each of them had erected,

her most specifically. If only she‟d known… If only one of them had spoken… It was

water under the bridge. This was now, and they were going to move forward.

Becky laughed. “Gosh, I‟ve done nothing but talk about myself. And you‟ve

heard way more kid stories about me than I want anyone to know. I‟m surprised

they left the baby book and photo albums behind.”

Rob winked and nudged Becky‟s knee with his toe. “Loaded the albums in the

trunk myself. I‟m sure Lori will want to take her time and savor every picture.”

She did. Lori was sorry she had nothing of Becky‟s to share with them. No

photos had ever been taken when Becky was a baby. She‟d had enough to think

about at the time trying to survive.

“So…” Becky placed four minicheesecakes on her plate, poured a puddle of

raspberry sauce between them, and stretched out.

Like mother, like daughter. Lori smiled at the thought.

“What is it you do?” Becky asked.

Ah, so they were down to Lori now. It was inevitable. She now knew all

Becky‟s milestones and her goals, all thanks to wonderful parents who‟d nurtured

her into a strong, self-confident, and sometimes headstrong woman.

“I teach high school history,” Lori said.

Becky froze, cheesecake halfway to her mouth. “Oh… I… Oh.”

“Disappointed?” Lori drained the last sip from her wineglass and set it on the

table.

Soleil

“Surprised.” Becky set her treat down. “It doesn‟t fit your image. I figured you

for a strong, powerful, kick-ass professional.”

Lori dug her heel into Mac‟s thigh and her elbow into Blake‟s ribs to keep them

quiet. Some things weren‟t supposed to be shared.

“Teaching isn‟t for the faint of heart,” Lori replied. “It takes a brave soul to

walk into a room of thirty hormone-laden teenagers bent on conquering the world

and the opposite sex, when they aren‟t eating or sleeping or complaining about how

horrid their parents are.”

The others laughed. Lori merely smiled and waited to continue.

“I can think of few things more powerful than inspiring the minds of others,”

she said. “And to be morbid… Those kids need to know there‟s at least one adult

they can come to with their problems, no matter how big or small. I try to be that

adult.”

Becky blinked away a rush of tears. “Then your students must really be pissed

about Webster.”

Blake turned his body more fully toward Lori and draped his arm around her.

She nestled into him and tucked her chilled toes under Mac‟s thigh.

“They are. It was heartwarming to see how much they cared, how ready they

were to defend me. But we also got very little schoolwork done yesterday. We‟re on

spring break now. If the reporters continue to be an issue after that‟s over, I‟ll take

a leave of absence until this blows over.”

“What will happen when word gets out about the three of you?” Worry edged

Gwen‟s voice. “Will they fire you?”

“I really don‟t foresee the media concluding that the three of us are more than

close friends. But if they do discover the full extent of our relationship, there could

be pressure for me to resign.” She shrugged. “I‟ll cross that bridge when I come to

it.” A lie. The worry did hover at the edge of her mind. People would corner her,

judge her, harass… Lori couldn‟t live like that.

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“I‟m more concerned with reporters discovering how long the three of us have

been together. That night linked us, and that link has never been broken. Some

people could call into question not only the legalities of the investigation and

evidence, but the trial itself. One of my biggest fears has been that somehow

Webster would be put back on the streets to abuse another woman, rape another

girl, kill again. All I‟ve done since that night has been in preparation for that

possibility. Hide my daughter. Learn to empower myself. Protect my men from any

hint of misconduct. Maintain complete control.”

Rob leaned forward. “If you don‟t mind me saying so, that‟s quite a burden

you‟ve placed on your shoulders.”

His words, though given to help, put Lori on the defensive. She tamped down

her inner shrew and pulled her chin back down. “I never considered it a burden,”

she softly replied. “For me, it was survival, protecting those I love the only way I

could. I‟ll admit I‟ve made many mistakes along the way. The foremost was shutting

myself off physically and emotionally from the loved ones I‟ve tried to protect.”

“Have you been lonely?” Becky asked, her voice so filled with compassion, it

cut Lori to the quick.

“No.” She shook her head. “Never.” Becky didn‟t need to know about the years

Lori had lived with her emotionally absent father and his wife. She‟d been nothing

more than a boarder to them, a burden they didn‟t want and weren‟t about to love.

Mac and Blake saved her sanity then as well, giving Lori the security she needed,

the strength and determination to carry on.

“What will you do if you have to resign from teaching?” Gwen asked. “Maybe it

won‟t come to that. Maybe it will be all right.”

She was so optimistic, Lori didn‟t have the heart to tell her she‟d already

decided to leave. The fact she‟d survived such horrible things brought more

attention than Lori could bear.

“Don‟t worry. I always have a backup plan.” Except when Blake walked out

that door last night. God, Lori didn‟t want to think about it again, about how close

Soleil

she‟d come to losing them because of her own faults. “I‟ve made wise investments

over the years, and I‟ll do fine. I have many friends in many fields and am

accomplished in more than one area.”

Becky mopped up the raspberry sauce with the last tidbit. “What areas?”

“Martial arts, foreign languages, I‟m a nature geek, and I have excellent

organizational skills.” Lori shrugged. Her spirits lifted with each opportunity she

considered. “I could also go back to school and get a psychology degree.”

“And deal with other people‟s constant streams of problems and issues?” Oliver

snorted. “You haven‟t even dealt with your own.”

His words stung. “True enough.” Too true. “It‟s hard to argue with Oliver‟s

keen insight.” Yes, more sarcasm. Oliver deserved it this time. “But I‟ll find

something to do. Something that suits my needs and personality.”

Lori swung her feet to the floor. “And now, I hate to be a drag, but we really

need to call it a night. Any more wine and I‟ll fall asleep in the middle of a sentence,

and Blake is so tired, he‟s pretty close to nodding off.”

“I agree.” Oliver stood before Lori could do so. “Last night was a long one for all

of us.” He motioned to the Smiths. “I have rooms ready for you. Please let me show

you the way.”

“We‟ll get our bags and be right back,” Rob replied.

Oliver waited until the Smiths had cleared the room, then turned to Lori, Mac,

and Blake. “And I took the liberty of having all of your things brought to Lori‟s

suite. I hope tonight will be much better than last night. Are we all on the same

page now? Finally?”

“Yes,” they said together.

Oliver gave a nod and walked out.

“I get the impression Oliver was thinking his work here is done,” Mac said.

“But ours isn‟t.” Lori slipped from the sofa and sat on the edge of the coffee

table so she could see them at the same time. “I‟m sorry. I wish I had a good defense

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for my behavior over the years. Fear isn‟t it. There is no one I trust more in the

world than the two of you. I admit, I‟ve always been afraid of what people would say

if they knew we were a threesome. I worried about what that would do to our

reputations, your business, and Webster‟s conviction. That‟s still no excuse for my

shutting you out and treating you badly. I honestly had no idea I was doing so.”

Blake leaned forward and brushed his hot hand up her thigh. Lori was

surprised her sateen capris didn‟t scorch; her skin had.

“We had our own fears and should have pushed them aside to tell you how we

felt.” His hand stopped a bare inch from the top of her thigh, and his thumb drew

circles against the inner slope.

Lori‟s clit swelled in anticipation of his touch. Her nipples tingled. Lust heated

her veins. She fought the impulse to shove the dishes away and lie on the table

spread-eagle for them.

“Last night…” She swallowed hard. Thinking about it hurt. Lori wanted to

wish it away, never talk about it again. Turn her back and run. That pattern

couldn‟t repeat itself. She had to face her demons, even those she‟d unconsciously

created for herself.

“Last night was one of the worst nights of my life,” she told them. Blake‟s

thumb stilled. Lori silently willed him to not move his hand. She needed the

connection between them more than ever.

“We‟ve all made mistakes.” Mac made his own place on the table beside her

and perched on the edge. “That night we met created a bond along with the

nightmares. The bond strengthened. The nightmares remained, and none of us have

ever dealt with those. It was so much easier to try to sweep the fears and feelings

under a rug than to rehash them.”

Lori clutched his hand. “Oh my God…you understand.”

Mac brought her fingers to his lips for a kiss. “Of course we understand,

sweetheart.”

Soleil

Blake leaned forward and nuzzled his face against the curve of her neck. “We

love you.” He inhaled deeply, as if reimprinting her scent on his brain. Just like she

had done them. That too did things to Lori she couldn‟t begin to describe but loved

more than words could express.

“We all should have gone through some serious counseling after that night, not

those halfhearted attempts we played along with,” Mac said.

Blake eased away, and his thumb started working its magic once more. “But if

we had, we wouldn‟t have had each other, and that‟s worth more to me than

anything else the world has to offer. I was a fool to threaten to leave you.”

Lori slid her hand up his arm, loving the flex of muscle at her touch. “You were

hurt and had every right to be. I was mean, cruel. How sad I didn‟t see it at the

time. But as horrible as last night was, it made me realize that all I want is the two

of you with me always. No more nights apart. No more secreted liaisons. Together

always, everywhere we go, everything we do. Work notwithstanding,” she added

with a smile.

The men tensed.

Lori tightened her hold on Mac‟s hand and Blake‟s bicep. “No more Soleil.

She‟s…retired.”

Tension drifted from Blake‟s shoulders with his barely perceptible sigh.

Mac draped his arm around her, fingers meshing with her ribs. He captured

her free hand in his and danced his fingers along her wrist. “Gwen‟s right—the

school district won‟t like it if our relationship becomes public. Given the current

nature of events, that‟s a given. Someone somewhere will make a connection, create

questions.”

It did hurt Lori to know her teaching days were numbered. Still… “It is what it

is. I don‟t have the energy to go to battle over this. It would hurt my students more.

The world will see how happy we are. Let them judge as they will. Soleil has made

me very well-off. I have many options I can explore, and I want to explore them all

with you two. No more walls.”

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“Yet your heart‟s racing a mile a minute.” Mac‟s fingers rested over her pulse.

Lori couldn‟t deny it.

“I‟m scared,” she breathlessly admitted.

“Of us?” Blake‟s hands now pressed on both of her thighs. Lori fought the need

to spread them wide and pull him against her.

No, that wasn‟t it. Lori wasn‟t sure she could take many more revelations. She

slowly shook her head. “Of myself. Of losing control.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Mac drew her on his lap and returned to the sofa.

Lori curled into him, her legs tucked close against Blake. “What if I snap and

go crazy on you because something you do propels me back to that night?” Like she

had last night with poor Reginald.

Blake rubbed her suddenly chilled legs from ankle to hip and back again.

“We‟ve always been afraid of the same thing. Not you going crazy on us, but of us

doing something that reminds you of it all.”

She pulled her head up. “You‟ve always let me have control.”

“Yes,” they said together.

And it hurt them that she hadn‟t trusted them enough to release that control

into their hands, either in bed or out of it. Funny in a sick sort of way, since Lori

trusted them completely. Well…apparently not, if she‟d unintentionally put these

walls between them. And they‟d stoically endured that all these years. God, how

they must love her!

“You’ve never married, never dated, never mentioned any women.”

Never asked for anything except her love and trust.

“We can‟t say it‟s always been you, Lori.” Mac combed her hair away from her

face. “But it has been only you for the last fourteen years.”

“Saying it was meant to be might sound corny, but it‟s true,” Blake added. “And

honestly, neither of us realized that until a year or two after we became three. We

Soleil

hadn‟t been with anyone else during that time; no one else appealed to us. It was

you.”

“Only you. You are our sunshine.”

Lori‟s heart was tight with emotion. “I love you.” Her voice quivered. She

wanted to say it a million times to make up for all the times the words went unsaid.

No more tears! She pulled in a breath and crawled from Mac‟s lap. “All right, let‟s do

this.”

Each snagged an elbow, holding her in place when Lori started to stand.

“Not so fast,” Mac said. “This isn‟t a check in the box on a to-do list.”

The dig irritated Lori only for its accuracy. She was the queen of the list

makers.

“Don‟t scowl.” Blake tapped her nose. “It‟s us. Would having the standard safe-

word system you use in your private community help?”

Her eyes widened. “You‟d do that for me?”

“Baby…” Blake buried his face against her neck. “We‟d do anything for you.”

The words came out in a rush of hot breath that filtered through every pore in Lori‟s

body and shattered the last of her fears. They would do anything for her. They had

done everything for her.

“I don‟t need safe words,” she replied.

Mac wrapped around her from the other side. “Maybe we do. Trust me,

sweetheart. We‟re just as scared as you.”

The confession made her giggle. She planted her palm against Mac‟s cheek and

kissed him. “I love you.” God, it felt so good to say that!

“And you too.” She kissed Blake, then butted her forehead against his. “I feel

awkward and unsure of what to do next, though.”

“I don‟t think either of you is shaking more inside than me,” Blake admitted,

then brightened. “Maybe going on a date would ease our jitters.”

“A date?” Mac asked.

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Lori pressed her lips tight to keep from laughing at Mac‟s scrunched-up face.

Clearly he didn‟t like the idea.

“Yeah.” Blake shrugged a shoulder. “Dinner, movie.”

“We just ate.”

Another shrug. “We‟ll go tomorrow.”

“And what about the reporters?” Mac jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

“Who cares?” Blake cocked his head to catch Lori‟s gaze. Laughter bubbled up

when she saw the glint in his eyes. She forced it down. Mac still hadn‟t caught on

that he was being teased.

“So we‟re good?” Blake asked her. “We‟ll call it a night, get some sleep, and

start fresh tomorrow?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Mac snapped forward. “No sex? You‟re joking. Right?” He

touched Lori‟s knee. “Tell me we‟re having sex.”

“I don‟t know.” Lori stretched her arms high over her head, then cracked her

lower back, stood, and stretched some more. “You tell me. I‟m not the one in control.

Let me know what you decide. I‟ll be upstairs.” She stepped over Mac‟s legs and

walked from the room, hips swaying in clear invitation.

Laughter burst out behind her. “Oh! You two are fucking with me!”

Lori glanced over her shoulder. “Not yet. But maybe soon?”

Mac jumped up, rattling the dishes on the coffee table, and strode her way. It

was the only warning she got before he scooped her into his arms.

She giggled and draped her arm around his neck. “Put me down. You‟ll throw

out your back, and then where will we be?”

Mac arched an eyebrow. “In your tender care and at your mercy?”

“Ooooh, I like that.”

“I thought you might.” He set her down, clamped his hand on her ass, and

claimed her lips in a tongue-twisting kiss she felt all the way to her clit. She rubbed

her stomach over his erection and swallowed his gasp.

Soleil

Blake pressed up behind her, his cock hot against her back. He rolled his

pelvis, rocking her between him and Mac.

“I could come just like this,” he growled into her ear.

Lori could too if only her aching clit could get the friction it needed. She peeled

her lips from Mac‟s, slipped her arm around Blake‟s neck, and nipped at his throat

and chin until his lips covered hers. She melted into the kiss.

Braced against him, she locked her left leg around Mac‟s hip and thrust her

pelvis in invitation. Someone growled, her or them, maybe all, but the sound

reverberated through her body.

Arm locked around her waist, Mac tilted her into Blake. Blake lowered her to

the floor, cradling her on top of his body. Mac knelt between their feet, grabbed the

waistband of her capris, and yanked them down. The nylon zipper on the side

ripped under the force. Mac didn‟t pause. One jerk pulled the capris off her legs,

taking her sandals as well. He tossed them somewhere, then crawled forward.

Blake wedged his knees under hers and urged them apart as he lifted them to

give Mac more room. Hard breaths shook Lori‟s breasts as he edged closer and

closer to her crotch. Juices soaked into her panties. Her scent filled the air. So did

their musk-laden testosterone.

The rattle of someone stacking dishes shattered Lori‟s lust. She tensed and

tried to wiggle away from Blake and Mac. Both held her firmly in place.

“But the help might see,” she whispered frantically.

“Let them.” Blake shoved his hand under her blouse and yanked her bra down.

Her nipples rasped against her silk blouse. He cupped her breast and tweaked the

hard tip between thumb and forefinger. Sweet shock waves rippled through her.

“It‟s Oliver‟s house.” Mac‟s breath washed over her pussy. Lori quivered,

waiting for him to do something, anything to ease the ache down there. “People who

work for him should be used to this type of spontaneous activity by now.”

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He snagged the crotch of her white satin panties between his teeth and

dragged the underwear down, down, down. Lori spread her thighs as wide as she

could.

Blake shifted behind her, still holding her tight to keep her from rolling off

him. Through a fog of anticipation, Lori realized he struggled to shove his trousers

down. Lori lifted her hips to give him more room. Blake grunted his approval. Mac

tossed her panties to one side, then he grabbed Blake‟s trouser leg and pulled them

the rest of the way off.

Blake‟s erection smacked Lori‟s back. She wiggled against it, then shifted until

it rested near her pussy. Lori pressed her fingers against his swollen cockhead.

Moisture kissed her touch.

Blake groaned and thrust into her fingers. She guided him toward her pussy.

Mac watched through lazy bedroom eyes while he dotted sucking kisses up her leg.

Blake lay flat, his arm around her waist, then plunged his cock into her pussy.

She froze with him, her heart swelling at the wonder of him pressed deep and

hard inside. It felt like they hadn‟t been together in forever. She soaked in the

warmth from the cushion of his body beneath her, memorized the pulsing swell

wedged inside her, then trembled when his hand and Mac‟s tickled over her thighs.

Lori gasped and fumbled to pull Mac‟s head closer. He glanced up under his

eyebrows. “Spread your pussy lips more for me. Show me where you really want my

mouth.”

She never realized a command directed her way could be so thrilling. The

freedom was intoxicating. Lori did as ordered, sliding her fingers through slick,

swollen lips spread wide by Blake‟s dick. Her clit, dark red and as hard as the cock

wedged inside her, pushed high above her dark blonde curls. Mac‟s gaze dropped to

his prize and nudged her legs over his shoulders. A growl rumbled in his throat.

Lori held her breath, waiting…and waiting. Then he snapped his head forward and

sucked the hard peak between his lips.

Soleil

She twisted her fingers in his hair and writhed against his mouth. Dual groans

surrounded her. Lori‟s unfettered cries replied. She didn‟t care who heard. She

wanted the world to know. If they wound up on a tabloid cover tomorrow morning,

so be it. This was love. This was them. Nothing and no one, even herself, was going

to take that away.

Blake cupped her breasts and kneaded them while his hips encouraged her to

ride him. She clamped her thighs around Mac‟s head. His grip kept them there. He

rolled her clit between his lips, flitting his oh so talented tongue over it until Lori

thought she‟d die from the wait. He teased her orgasm upward in ever-increasing

degrees, one lick at a time. Held it there, hovering on the brink, then…

Lori‟s muscles spasmed around Blake‟s cock. She clamped down hard, grinding

into him as they both came. Mac held on until they were over the other side. Lori‟s

ears buzzed; tension oozed from her body. She heard gasps for breath and realized

they were her own echoed by Blake. She fumbled for Mac, but he‟d moved away. He

stood over them as Blake eased from her, full-blown erection jutting out from a nest

of dark hair.

Want stared down at her. Mac stroked his cock. “I‟m going to love you now,

sweetheart. I‟m going to love you so hard, we‟ll have rug burns for a week.”

With little other warning, he knelt between her feet, grabbed her hand, and

yanked her to him. Lori tossed her arms around him. One dip laid her flat on her

back with Mac‟s cock deep inside. Forearms braced on either side of her head. Long

fingers threaded into her hair. Mac‟s gaze swept over her face; then he slowly

lowered his lips to hers and slipped his tongue between them.

A shudder rippled through his broad shoulders. He edged his pelvis back,

drawing his penis out until only the thick tip remained lodged at her entrance. Lori

grunted her displeasure, hooked her leg around his hip, and nudged her heel into

his ass. Mac plunged deep—and let himself go. One hard thrust after the other

inched them over the carpet. Lori hooked her other leg over his and held on. She felt

the burn on her back, felt it too in her pussy. Her clit swelled once more. She

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struggled to find just the right spot. It evaded her each time. Whimpering, she

jerked her hand away from Mac‟s torso and tried to shove it between them.

Another hand snagged her wrist. Lips still locked with Mac‟s, she flashed her

eyes open to Blake. A smile lifted one corner of his mouth. He lay stretched out

beside them, one arm braced overhead to help stop their forward momentum, the

other poised to crawl between their bodies.

Mac stopped long enough to give Blake room. Blake‟s hot fingers wasted little

time. He pressed them over her clit, giving Lori the blessed sensation she needed.

She sighed with pleasure and nudged her heels into Mac‟s ass once more. He obliged

with the force of a jackhammer, pivoting relentlessly into her. He jerked his head

up, finally breaking their kiss. He clenched his jaw from the effort to hang on for

her. His eyes rolled back in his head; then his lids closed.

Lori turned her head to one side, watching the love pour from Blake‟s eyes. His

smile broadened, fingers moved faster. She closed her eyes and lost herself to the

rise, the splendor of being with the men she loved.

“Oh God,” she whispered. “Oh God, Mac… Now. I‟m…com-ing.”

He pushed deep and froze, grinding into her as his orgasm exploded into her.

Lori thought she‟d never stop coming. Kisses dotted her shoulder in the aftermath—

Blake‟s on one, Mac‟s on the other.

Lori ruffled her fingers through their hair and gave them a lazy smile. “Now

one of you can carry me upstairs.”

“God, who‟s got the energy?” Mac mumbled and eased his weight from her.

“What‟s that saying?” Blake asked as he tickled his fingers up Lori‟s belly. “„I

might not be as good as I once was, but I‟m as good once as I ever was.‟ Or words to

that effect.”

As far as Lori was concerned, that once was pretty damn good. “One of the

glories of having lovers over the age of forty.”

Blake wagged his finger at her. “You jest, but your day‟s coming.”

Soleil

Lori laughed and started to tug her bra back into place. “By the time I‟m forty,

these puppies will be so low to the ground that it‟ll take all three of us to get them

upstairs.”

“Nope, can‟t see it,” Mac said. “They‟re perfect as always.” He dropped a kiss to

each of her nipples, then stood and extended a hand to her and Blake.

Blake grabbed his forearm. “Man, I‟m going to feel this in the morning.”

“You and me both,” Mac replied. “But worth it,” he added with a grin.

Lori stood and wiggled her breasts into her bra. “That‟s why they invented hot

bubble baths.”

Mac wrinkled his nose. “How about a hot bath without the bubbles?”

Blake snorted. “Right now I‟d settle for a soft bed.”

That sounded pretty fine to Lori.

They dressed quickly and then trudged up the stairs. It might have been easier

to make a run for the room naked despite the risk of bumping into Becky and her

parents. But it seemed apparent none of them wanted to take the chance, since they

dressed without pause. Plus, Lori didn‟t think she was up to running anywhere at

the moment. Parts of her complained about the romp on the carpet; other parts

were still too blissful to care. Arms slipped around her waist, and she sighed into

the kiss each pressed to her cheek.

The moment shattered when Blake opened the door to her suite and they

found Oliver perched on the arm of the love seat, a brown leather paddle in his

hand.

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Chapter Eight

“There you are.”

Lori didn‟t trust Oliver‟s semblance of a smile, and she sure as hell didn‟t trust

him wielding a paddle.

“I trust you three enjoyed your interlude on my carpet,” he said. “I just had

that cleaned, you know.”

“Send me the bill.” Blake eased the door closed. “What the hell is that all

about?” He jerked his head toward the object in Oliver‟s palm.

“My own form of therapy. I‟ve discovered in my circles that there‟s little a good

spanking can‟t fix.”

Mac shot up a finger. “If you think for one minute we‟re gonna let you—”

“I would never presume anything of the kind.” Oliver‟s eyes gleamed. He

tossed the paddle to the love seat. “I‟ll leave that up to the three of you or to our

well-accomplished former dominatrix here.”

Lori glared at him.

Oliver merely laughed. Whatever humor he found in the situation faded an

instant later. He surged to his feet. Lori resisted the urge to step back, mostly

because Blake and Mac stood between him and her.

“Here‟s what I see.” Oliver tucked his hands behind his back and strolled their

way. “I see three individuals who have refused any form of counseling to deal with a

horrid situation that still haunts them to this day. Each of you is weighed down by

guilt.”

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Penetrating eyes locked on to Blake. “Yours is because you didn‟t pull the

trigger and kill the man who killed your partner. Never mind that an injured

teenager was between your target and you, and you truly didn‟t have a clear shot.”

His gaze whipped to Mac. “Yours is because you stayed in the patrol car when

you felt you should have been helping. Never mind that doing so would have created

an additional hazard to the officers there.”

“And you…”

Lori refused to look at him.

“God only knows all the guilt you carry, Lori. Guilt over Webster having raped

you in the first place, though you were a mere child at the time. Guilt over not

having protected your mother. Guilt over denying Becky her birth mother. Guilt

that you‟ve kept Mac and Blake from having the life you envisioned they should

want, when they are clearly here and you are the life they want.”

Emotion clogged Lori‟s throat. She wouldn‟t let Oliver see that his words had

gotten to her.

“So”—he waved his hand toward the paddle—“if it‟s punishment the three of

you want, get it over with. Let it out. My gift to you. Keep it if you need a continuing

reminder of what you all perceive as your misdeeds. If you need me to lend an

experienced hand, you know where to find me. It would be my immense pleasure to

help set you straight in the event my words have failed once more.”

He brushed by them and out the door. The instant it shut, Blake rubbed his

hands together.

“I‟m ready for bed. How ‟bout you two?” He made a beeline for the bedroom.

Mac wasted no time following. “I can‟t remember the last time I got a full

night‟s sleep.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to remind him it had presumably been the night

before last, when they‟d joined her at the hotel. But she recognized dodging the

subject when she heard it. It worked for her. She glanced at the paddle from the

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corner of her eye as she doused the lights, half expecting the damn thing to get up

and follow her into the bedroom.

In some respects it did, looming in her mind embossed with the words the

truth. Knowing everything she‟d been through, how could Oliver have even thought

to suggest such an action? For a man with such great insight, it was a stupid

suggestion.

Yet…Oliver was never wrong…

Lori shook the thought away and fell into the routine she, Blake, and Mac had

established for those nights they spent together. No one spoke as they took turns in

the bathroom. She wondered if their thoughts wandered to Oliver‟s gift. Wondered if

they really wanted and needed her to dole out discipline, and how it would affect

their relationship if they crossed that line. Wondered if she needed the punishment,

though the thought made her sick.

But Oliver’s always right. He always knew exactly what someone needed. Over

the years she‟d prided herself on having achieved that vaunted status.

Pride goeth…

Lori pressed the warm washcloth over her face to cover a sob. Blake wrapped

his arms around her. She knew it was him from the press of stockier muscles

against her back, the scent of him, the heat that drifted from his skin.

“Enough,” he said softly and kissed her temple. “It‟s late. We all need a good

night‟s sleep. I imagine you haven‟t slept much either lately.”

Lori dropped the cloth on the sink vanity. “I haven‟t. I can‟t say the zolpidem

last night helped much either.”

His frown stared back at her from the mirror. “When did you get zolpidem?”

“A while back. I have a hard time sleeping without one or both of you. My mind

won‟t turn off.” Lori left the rest unsaid—that at night she feared the monsters that

Webster had bred. Alone, she replayed the horror over and over again.

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103

“You can flush it, baby. You‟re not going to be alone anymore. Come on.” He

patted her hip. “Let‟s get some sleep.”

“Be right there.” Lori admired Blake‟s assets as he walked away. It was

amazing how sexy gray sleep pants could be.

They rarely slept in the nude. The men wanted to be ready to jump out of bed

at a moment‟s notice if there was a problem. Neither wanted to take down a robber

in their birthday suit or be the naked guy rescued from a burning building or

earthquake rubble. Her sleepwear of choice wasn‟t fancy or particularly sexy—a

little nightgown and panties—but damn, did it feel like heaven when her men

peeled it off her body and made love to her.

She smiled at the shiver that worked through her, then hooked her robe on the

bathroom door and walked into her bedroom. Blake sat propped on the right side of

the big bed, waiting for her. On the left, Mac looked already sound asleep, curled on

his side with his pillow shoved against the headboard and out of his way.

Blake stood and peeled the covers back for her. When she crawled in, he killed

the light and followed. Lori edged closer to Mac‟s warmth. Blake guided his hand

over her hip and came to rest on her belly. Lori laced her fingers through his,

snuggling her butt into him when he spooned her.

Sleep wasn‟t happening. Lori wanted to blame the outside security system that

cast light through the slits in the drapes. She couldn‟t. Instead, she measured Mac‟s

deep breaths, felt the tension in Blake‟s body, and thought about how lonely she‟d

feel without them next to her.

“It happened so fast,” she finally said. “Sometimes everything is such a blur, I

can‟t sort out what happened when. I know I should have taken Becky and run the

minute Webster smashed the front door in. I can‟t figure out why I didn‟t. It‟s like I

was paralyzed with fear.”

Blake tightened his hold around her. “Me too. I thought I was trained to

handle anything. Too cocky, now that I look back. They say hubris is an awful eye-

opener. I‟d have to agree. I was paralyzed with fear too. I should have pulled the

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trigger when I saw him charge Washington with the knife. I didn‟t. Hell, I didn‟t

even shoot when he was coming at me.”

“And if I‟d helped my mother, she and Washington would both be alive. I

should have gone into the bedroom. I could have sneaked up behind him.”

Mac heaved a sigh and rolled to face them. He slid his hand over Lori‟s hip and

down to cup her ass, then closed the gap between them.

“I thought you were asleep,” she said.

“I was. Heard you two talking. It filtered into this weird dream I was having,

and I woke up.”

“Sorry,” they mumbled.

“Don‟t worry about it,” he replied, then pulled in a breath. “I didn‟t stay in the

car that night. The minute Blake and Washington entered the house, I rushed after

them, hoping for some killer pictures to go with my story. I wanted something really

great for the editor, so he‟d see I had the chops for bigger stories. I wanted to be an

investigative reporter so badly. Then I saw the blood and froze. Yeah, everything

did happen fast. Blake was so calm. You were so strong and brave. And there I was,

ready to piss myself with fear. I didn‟t do anything to stop it. I just watched it

happen.”

Lori cupped his cheek. “You saved my life. You put pressure on the wounds to

help stop the bleeding. Kept talking to me. Kept Becky safe.”

Blake buried his face in her nape. “And you saved me. I still don‟t know how

you managed to throw that knife and nail him right in the back.”

“You and Mac gave me my strength back. Helped make me strong, self-

confident, from that horrible night we met and every day since.”

“And the more you grew as a woman, the more we wanted you.” Blake drew

lazy circles over her belly, nudging her panties out of his way. “It felt right to be

three. It still does. I know tragedy brought us together, but it wasn‟t what kept us

together. Sure, we all have guilt; we‟re human. But Oliver‟s suggestion is bullshit.”

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Was it? “Let it out.” Those were Oliver‟s words. And that‟s what this

conversation was doing, purging the ghosts of the past. Or at least starting to.

That’s what Oliver had wanted them to do, Lori realized, and he‟d resorted to shock

value in order to get them to talk. To purge themselves of that night.

Lori wondered if Blake and Mac had actually feared she‟d take a paddle to

them. She couldn‟t begin to imagine such a scenario, but to think the men might

have wanted it did bring out something powerfully naughty in her. She bit back a

giggle and rolled to face Blake. Still nestled behind her, Mac‟s erection swelled

against her ass.

“Goodness.” She turned her head and nuzzled her face against Mac‟s. “I see

you have your superpowers back. Amazing, the recuperative benefits of a power

nap.”

“Yes…amazing.” Mac shoved her panties down all the way, then hooked them

with his toes to pull them off her legs. His sleep pants followed.

The words and action roused Blake‟s interest as well. His erection rested

against her belly; the tip nudged her navel. He whipped her nightgown up and over

her head.

“Perhaps Oliver‟s not total bullshit,” she said.

Blake tensed at her words. She shoved her hands into his sleep pants and dug

her nails into his ass to keep him in place. Blake shoved the sleepwear down his

legs and kicked them away with the covers.

“I think it was his unique way of getting us to talk about everything. To let it

all out. We do have guilt and regrets, but I don‟t think we‟ve let them rule our lives.

Fear—well, that‟s a different matter, and it has driven me, even more so since

Webster‟s latest ploy resurrected demons I thought I‟d laid to rest. It also threw my

biggest fear right at my feet—that I‟d lose the two of you. I thought keeping us a

secret would protect what we have. I didn‟t realize until last night what a huge

wedge I‟d driven between us by insisting on a closed-door relationship.”

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“And we didn‟t make things any better by keeping our own feelings locked

inside,” Blake said. “Fear for us too. Fear of losing you. Fear that something we did

would stir the past and scare you.”

“Fear I‟d really take that paddle to your pretty round ass?” She‟d dropped her

voice to a husky tone guaranteed to seduce. Both cocks throbbed in response,

despite the sudden tension in her men. Lori laughed and wiggled between them.

“Relax. I‟m just teasing.” But she knew in her heart that if that‟s what she wanted,

they would have swallowed their alpha-male pride and let her do it. “And for the

record, I don‟t want it either. We might have an unusual relationship, but I‟m really

not anxious to have it drift into Dom/sub BDSM territory.”

They were silent for a few minutes, those hot erections pulsing against her,

their fingers exploring her curves and hollows with growing intensity.

“Are you really retiring Soleil?” Mac peeled her hair back and licked her

shoulder.

“I am,” she said with a sigh. “I‟ve gotten what I needed from the life. Now…all

I need, all I want, is right beside me.”

Blake rolled her atop him, or she did it herself—Lori didn‟t know and didn‟t

care. All she knew was that his lips molded to hers, his hands covered her breasts,

and Mac flashed his tongue down her spine. When he reached her tailbone, he

nipped her butt cheeks. Lori writhed against Blake, lifting her ass for more.

Grunting, Blake deepened his kiss. He pinched her nipples, pulling them into

elongated beads, then rolled them between his thumbs and forefingers. Lori spread

her thighs a little wider until her labia wrapped around his cock. Mac licked and

nipped his way down her thigh and calf, then sucked at her toes. She stretched her

other foot, expecting equal attention. Instead Mac left the bed.

“Be right back,” he whispered in her ear. “I‟m going to get what we need.”

Lori ground herself into Blake. She could hardly wait to feel them both inside

her. One day she‟d get her ultimate dream—to have both cocks in her pussy at the

same time. Until she was brave enough to suggest it, this was the next best thing.

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She loved the thrust and parry of their cocks working in time in her ass and pussy,

then losing control and bringing them all to orgasm at the same time.

She broke Blake‟s kiss, slid her hips up, and eased onto his cock. “Mmmm…so

much better,” she groaned out.

“I agree.” Blake grabbed her ass and shoved deeper. “Put your legs between

mine, baby.”

Not her favorite position. Lori silently questioned his request. How could Mac

take her if she wasn‟t open? Nevertheless, she complied. The minute her legs went

between Blake‟s, he wrapped his calves over hers, locking her in place. He splayed

his hands against her back and drew her down for a kiss.

The bed sagged with Mac‟s weight. A second later she felt the unmistakable

brush of leather over her backside. Lori jerked her head up as far as Blake would

allow, which wasn‟t far, considering he had her effectively bound to him.

“What are you doing?” Fear took her breath away. The words came out barely

a squeak.

Mac‟s brown eyes settled on hers. She‟d never seen such determination in

them. “We‟re giving you what you need, Lori.” He brushed the paddle over her ass

once more.

“No.” Lori struggled for freedom.

Blake had her tight. “Relax, Lori. Do you need to use your safe word?”

Rage gave her new strength, still ineffective against Blake‟s hold. “You! You

both conspired with Oliver to do this!”

Set up so perfectly, she‟d never seen it coming.

“Yes,” Mac admitted. “You need this. Haven‟t we always given you what you

needed?”

Tears drifted down her cheeks. Lori didn‟t know they were there until they

reached her chin. She shook inside. “Why? Why are you doing this?”

“Have we ever hurt you?” Blake asked.

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She shook her head. “No.”

“Do you trust us?” Mac‟s breath tickled her ear.

Lori managed a nod.

“Answer the question, or I will swat you,” Mac warned.

“Yes. Yes, I trust you.”

“Then trust us to do what‟s right for you,” Blake said.

“What‟s right for all of us,” Mac added.

“Let go, Lori. Give over your control to us.” Blake pressed her head to his chest

and tucked his chin on top. “Let go, baby.”

She acquiesced, pressed her fists against Blake‟s sides, and squeezed her eyes

shut in anticipation of that blistering smack.

“You may use your safe word at any time, and this will stop,” Mac said.

Did they think she was a fucking newbie? She knew what the hell a safe word

was and when to use it. Damn Oliver‟s interference; damn the two of them for

conspiring against her. Still, she kept her mouth shut, muscles rigid, waiting and

waiting.

Mac brushed the paddle over her ass. Planning where to hit first. Then

brushed again. Just get it over with. Then again. And again.

Slowly.

Long and short circles around and around.

Warming her.

Soothing.

Loosening those taut muscles.

“Yes, baby,” Blake whispered. “That‟s it. Relax. Feel it. Trust us.”

“You know we‟d never, ever hurt you,” Mac said softly. He rubbed harder. This

time, she writhed into the caress.

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Blake groaned beneath her and loosened his hold on her legs. “Straddle me,

baby.”

She did, raising her ass high for Mac, but not so high she broke her connection

with Blake. Mac slid the paddle down the backs of her thighs, rubbing warmth into

them. Her clit had swollen to unbelievable proportions. Her pussy pulsed with a life

of its own, squeezing tight around Blake‟s cock.

Mac worked his way back up, then stopped abruptly. Lori bit off her demand

for him to continue. After all, she‟d promised to give them control, and that‟s what

she needed to do. Breath heaving, she waited.

The touch of velvet-soft bristles sucked a gasp from her. She hadn‟t seen that

there were two sides to the paddle. Mac tickled up her spine, over her back, then

around to love her rock-hard nipples. Down to kiss her clit. Around her hips, down

her thighs, over her toes. Over and over again, until all she could do was writhe

with pleasure and grind on the cock impaling her.

She heard Mac pull in a deep breath of his own. Lori glanced up at Blake.

She‟d never seen his jaw so tight, felt his breath so ragged. The effort to hold back—

now, that was true love.

She nearly cheered at hearing the rip of a condom packet. It meant Mac was

coming for her. An instant later, fingers prepared her ass for penetration. Lori

tossed her head back and moaned, twitching this way and that to get as much of his

fingers inside her as possible.

He withdrew them and knelt behind her. “Do you want to use your safe word,

Lori?”

Smart-ass. “No,” she replied.

“Good.”

He wedged the paddle, bristle side up, between her body and Blake‟s. The soft

bristles cradled her clit in the perfect nest. Mac‟s cock nudged her ass. Then he

pushed in, slow and steady, ripping groans out of all of them. When he reached the

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hilt, no one moved. They knew by now that they each needed time to adjust, no

matter how many times they‟d done this.

“One day…” She gasped. “One day I want you both in my pussy at the same

time.” Because she did trust them more than anyone else in the world and loved

them a million times over.

“Jesus, baby!” Blake fisted his pillow and thrust his pelvis higher.

The men moved at the same time, falling quickly into that sweet rhythm so

ingrained in their lovemaking. In and out. One after the other. In perfect

synchronicity.

Lori gave herself over to the intensity, letting it tighten, release, then tighten

all the more. Blood swelled and heated their groins to the boiling point. And still

Mac and Blake grew hotter, harder, more relentless in their pursuit of the Holy

Grail of orgasms for all of them.

She squeezed around them while she selfishly rode the soft bristles. Nerves

tingled, promising relief. She held her breath, waiting. Fingers bit into her hips,

around her breasts, tangled in her hair. The three of them were a crazed tangle of

limbs, lost in a frenzy of their own design. No walls. No inhibitions. No fears. Only

blinding, complete trust.

Lori‟s pelvic muscles contracted, then released, sending sweet waves of

pleasure through her. Through the bliss, she heard, then felt Mac and Blake come

too. They shuddered and growled from the impact, grinding deeper with every wave

of jism that shot out of them.

Her men. Her loves. She was the luckiest woman in the world, and tomorrow

the world was going to know that.

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Chapter Nine

Lori inhaled the invigorating scent of fresh coffee the minute her foot left the

stairs. Shaded from the morning sun, a leisurely buffet breakfast awaited everyone

on the poolside patio. All doors and windows were open to catch the spring breeze

drifting down the canyon. It was going to be a beautiful day.

Only Oliver and Becky sat at the long glass-topped table. Conversation

appeared to be minimal. Oliver had his head buried in the Los Angeles Times; Becky

scanned USA TODAY. CNN droned in the background from the forty-two-inch

screen mounted on the outside wall, just as it had on her room upstairs. Lori

couldn‟t fault them; they liked to keep informed. So did she, for that matter.

Of course, the news continued to be about Webster. His execution was slated

for midnight that night. There‟d been no stay, no pardon, no anything. Death

couldn‟t happen to a more deserving man. His ruse of new evidence had finally been

seen for what it was—a cruel bid for attention and to hurt Lori one last time. The

world didn‟t need to know Becky‟s visit had incited his actions.

“Good morning.” Becky set her paper aside and reached for one of the pecan

scones in the center of the table. The treat roused Lori‟s suspicions. What was

Oliver up to this time?

“Good morning.” Lori poured herself a cup of coffee and sat across from Becky.

She too grabbed a scone. “These are one of my favorite indulgences. Thank you,

Oliver.”

“You‟re welcome. It was my pleasure.” He closed his paper and looped his

finger through this coffee mug. “Sleep well?”

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“We slept very well.” Much better than Oliver, apparently. Dark circles

rimmed his eyes. She‟d never seen him look so tired.

So whose strings did you pull last night besides ours, my friend? Lori kept that

question to herself.

“Mac and Blake should be down shortly. They‟re shaving, showering, etc.”

“Nice volley from your attorney this morning, by the way. Webster apparently

threw a fit when he heard, and had to be restrained.”

“Thank you.” The woman was a shark and one of the best lawyers around. The

statement she and Lori had planned was genius—that Lori barely gave Webster a

thought and had better things to do than indulge a sociopath clearly bent on saving

his own miserable life at the expense of others. Her lawyer would have gone on to

fully cite the physical abuse Lori had suffered at his hands, including the rape. She

would have rehashed the details of that night, and not once would she have

included or revealed anything about Becky‟s existence or life in the retelling of her

tale.

“I understand People is clamoring for your story now,” Oliver said. “Did you

realize you were going to be writing an autobiography?”

Lori laughed, scattering the hummingbirds that darted in the bottlebrush

trees at the edge of the patio. “Oh my God. Now that would be some book. I didn‟t

know I was so talented. I swear… The things these people come up with.”

“Indeed.” Oliver leaned on his forearms. He patted her hand and stood. “I‟ve

got some work to do. I‟ll see you later.”

Lori pinched off a bite of scone and popped it in her mouth. It was just her and

Becky for the moment—them and awkward silence.

“I love these things.” Lori took another bite.

“Me too. Scones of any kind,” Becky replied. “I could eat my weight in them.

Thank goodness I can show some restraint.”

“I know what you mean. Your mom and dad up yet?”

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“Up with the dawn.” Becky waved her hand with a laugh. “Oliver mentioned

the Indian Canyons, and they went off to explore. They love hiking.”

“I do too. They‟ll have a great time.” In fact, it sounded like a great idea. Much

better than browsing the shops on Palm Canyon Drive with Mac and Blake, which

was what they‟d originally planned.

Becky pushed her cup and plate to one side and leaned forward, much the way

Oliver had. The stance was a bit unsettling. Lori had a feeling she wasn‟t going to

like addressing whatever was on Becky‟s mind. Still, she had a right to know. Lori

wouldn‟t take that from her.

“As I mentioned last night…” Becky hesitated as if weighing her words, lining

up the salt and pepper shakers, adjusting her silverware, anything but making eye

contact. “I have a degree in criminal justice,” she finally said. “I was considering

going for my master‟s but then wondered about going into law. I‟ve learned a lot

over the years from Uncle Mac and Uncle Blake about investigative techniques, and

I know how to use them very well. Nothing I like more than uncovering a mystery.”

Which was what had started this Webster fiasco in the first place. Lori kept

that comment to herself.

“It‟s difficult for me to get to the point, but I‟m sure you‟d appreciate it if I

would.”

Lori wasn‟t sure about that. “I‟m a teacher. I can be very patient.”

Becky drew in a breath. “I‟ve discovered over the years that I have certain

inclinations.”

Oh shit… I know where this is going. “Inclinations?” Lori asked.

“I‟ve done extensive research and uncovered a lot of information about this. I

know about Oliver‟s other community. I know about Maneater, Soleil, and Raven.

They are phenomenal—legends—strong, powerful, beautiful women. The minute I

discovered them, I knew that was what I wanted for myself. I was shocked beyond

words when I learned we were coming to Oliver‟s home to wait out this disaster I

created. Shocked even more to discover that Soleil and Lori, my birth mother, were

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one and the same. Don‟t worry—my parents don‟t know. It explained everything

about me. My inclinations. It also felt like destiny had placed me where I wanted

and needed to be.”

She looked at Lori for the first time. Those eyes were so like Lori‟s, it was like

looking into a mirror, the words so similar to ones Lori had uttered fourteen years

ago, except Lori‟s had held less confidence. Becky edged her fingers closer, then

touched the back of Lori‟s hand.

“Teach me. Guide me. Show me the way.”

Lori answered the only way she could. She turned over her hand and closed

her fingers around Becky‟s. “No.”

Disappointment shadowed Becky‟s face. Lori squeezed her hand.

“Setting aside the fact I have officially retired Soleil… It isn‟t an easy path. If

this is the route you want to take, you need someone objective to guide you. That

isn‟t me. We‟re too close, even though we‟ve just met. If this is what you want—”

“I do,” she said softly. “I want to be a dominatrix like you.”

Lori gave her a half smile. “Be careful what you wish for. You might find out

your inclinations aren‟t what they appear to be. Domme? Perhaps. But there‟s a

little sub in all of us. If this is what you truly want, the person you need to speak

with is Oliver. He‟ll guide you appropriately and know the best course of action.”

“Would you…” She pressed her lips together. “Would you speak to him on my

behalf?”

Lori shook her head. “If you can‟t approach him on your own, then it‟s not the

right path or the right time.”

Becky slipped her hand free and studied the glass table. Her gaze darted over

Lori‟s shoulder. Judging from the male voices drifting her way, Lori knew Oliver

had stopped to talk with Mac and Blake. Laughter filtered her way as well.

“Thanks, Lori.” Becky‟s chair legs scraped the pebbled concrete as she stood.

“You helped me a lot.”

Soleil

115

Lori watched her daughter square her shoulders in determination. Her chin

was up, eyes locked on to her target. Yet Lori also knew Becky‟s heart pounded just

as hers had on that first day. God only knew where this would lead. Lori didn‟t

want to know the details.

Still, she couldn‟t help watching Becky walk directly to Oliver. She stood to the

side waiting for the men to finish talking. Once Mac and Blake started Lori‟s way,

Becky made her move. Her request didn‟t faze Oliver in the least. He merely waved

his hand, motioning her into his study for a private conversation.

“Hey, babe.” Blake leaned down to kiss her. “Coffee hot?”

“And good,” she replied. “Looks like Oliver‟s laid out all our favorites.”

“So I see.” Mac sat beside her, steaming coffee cup in his hand. “Why are there

pecan scones on the table? I thought Soleil was done.”

They knew her ritual well. “I thought Oliver put them out as a treat for me.

But I have the feeling now that they weren‟t meant for me at all.” She passed her

half-eaten scone over to Mac before he could sit down, and went to the breakfast

buffet, where Blake was filling his plate with eggs, bacon, and potatoes.

“I thought we‟d go explore the Indian Canyons today,” she suggested.

“Sounds great,” Mac said through a mouthful of scone. He grabbed his plate

and walked to the buffet. “Maybe find a private one.”

Lori snickered. “You‟d be more alluring if you‟d said that without food in your

mouth.”

Blake leaned close. “See? He‟s messy too.”

“And I still manage to love you both more than I can say.”

Mac stepped up beside her. “And maybe later we can try that thing you wanted

to do.”

“It‟ll be a tight fit.” Blake‟s breath tickled her ear.

“But we‟re willing to keep trying until we get it just…right.” Mac‟s rumbled

tones in her other ear sent shivers down her spine.

116

Caitlyn Willows

“Because there‟s nothing we wouldn‟t do for you,” Blake added.

And God, Lori knew how true that was. “My heroes,” she said on a sigh.

“Our sunshine,” they replied, then nuzzled kisses just under her ears.

Pleasure melted into her veins. Maybe Oliver knew of a special place where

three lovers could indulge themselves. Who was she kidding? Oliver knew

everything.

“I don‟t suppose Oliver mentioned any private locations to you. In passing, of

course,” she said.

Mac started to fill his plate. “As a matter of fact, he did. In passing, of course.”

Blake nipped her earlobe. “Eat up, baby. You‟re going to need your strength.”

“I do love the sound of that.” Lori headed back to the table with her loaded

plate. She‟d snag the rest of the pecan scones for their hike.

“Oliver also gave us a business card for a psychiatrist he recommends. Declan

Trent,” Mac said as he sat down beside her.

Blake joined them. “Clearly we need counseling to deal with everything. It was

traumatic, and it was life altering. We‟ve been sweeping it all under the rug for too

long.”

Lori agreed. “Make an appointment for the soonest, most convenient time for

the two of you. I‟m ready.” More than ready. “And my schedule is wide-open now.”

“Sure about that?” Mac refreshed his coffee from the white carafe in the center

of the table.

“We were thinking”—Blake held his cup out for Mac to refill—“Our other next

logical step would be to combine households, but that leaves us with the inevitable

question of whose house. It‟d be best for us to buy a new one or have one built to our

specifications.”

Lori smiled. Hell, she beamed. “I like that.”

Soleil

117

“We‟d hoped you‟d say that.” Mac set the carafe to the side with a nod. “We

might not be able to put a ring on your finger, but we‟ll be able to do everything else

to have our happily-ever-after.” He made quote marks in the air for the phrase.

“I do have two hands, you know,” she said over her shoulder. “With a ring

finger on each one.”

Blake froze, bacon halfway to his mouth. Judging from the lack of sound

behind her, Mac wasn‟t moving either. Lori turned to look. Yep, statue still.

“Relax,” she said with a laugh. “I‟m not suggesting bigamy. God knows we‟ve

broken enough laws as it is. No sense tempting fate.”

“Then what are you suggesting?” Blake asked.

“Commitment ceremony.”

Tension seeped from them. Mac was on bended knee before her a second later.

“I‟d love that,” he said.

Lori cupped his cheek. “Me too.”

Blake draped his arm around her. “Me three.”

“No”—Lori pulled them as close as possible—“we three.”

Loose Id Titles by Caitlyn Willows

Buddy System

Have Mercy

Maneater

Soleil

Wake Me Up

The INTO THE HEART Series

Into the Lair

Into the Night

Into the Wild

Caitlyn Willows

No one is more surprised than erotic romance author Caitlyn Willows at the

direction life has taken her. Blessed (or cursed) with a vivid imagination, Caitlyn

weaves deep emotions and sizzling sensuality into her action-filled stories.

Believing life is to be lived and felt, not merely watched, Caitlyn delivers real-to-life

characters in unforgettable tales of love, adventure, and always steamy passion.

She lives in the beautiful desert of Southern California with her husband (a

genealogist) and the animals she loves.

Document Outline

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Loose Id Titles by Caitlyn Willows
Caitlyn Willows

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