Profane (Devout Trilogy Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Description

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Also by the Author

  Author's Note

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  The World of the Governor Trilogy

  Free Preview: Penance (Devout Trilogy 3)

  About the Author

  Profane…

  My husband Liam’s a hot, hunky Master, and a US Senator. What’s not to love?

  I mean, besides his hot and hunky ex, Ward.

  Who’s also Liam’s hall-pass f*ck exception, because I never thought it’d be redeemed.

  I feel kind of sorry for the guy. Because my husband has several truckloads of pain to offload on that man.

  And so do I.

  Meaning I have a front-row seat to the festivities.

  Beep-beep, motherf*cker.

  Profane

  Devout Trilogy

  Book 2

  Lesli Richardson

  http://www.LesliRichardson.com

  Profane

  Devout Trilogy Book 2

  Copyright © 2020 by Lesli Richardson

  First E-book Publication: June, 2020

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This work may not be reproduced, transmitted, or distributed in any form or by any means currently available or available in the future, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, for free or for sale, without express written permission from the publisher and author.

  Distributing copies of this e-book to others is a violation of international copyright law and infringes the rights of the legal copyright holder. This e-book may not be shared, copied, sold, given away, offered as a contest prize, or otherwise distributed to anyone other than the original purchaser. Distributing this e-book as part of any collection, or with any type of resale permission, is also strictly forbidden and a violation of copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  This is my livelihood. PLEASE do NOT share, upload, or otherwise distribute this book. When people buy my books, it pays my bills. Please don’t steal from me. If you want me to keep bringing you more stories, I need to be able to pay my bills, so I ask that you please legally purchase my books. If you want to give this file to someone else, please purchase them a copy from a legal retailer. The links are on my website. Thank you.

  www.LesliRichardson.com

  Also by the Author

  Please sign up for my author newsletter, where I post info about both my Lesli Richardson and Tymber Dalton pen names, and never miss a new release or update:

  https://tymberdalton.com/newsletter/

  Writing as Lesli Richardson:

  The Bleacke Shifter Series:

  1) Bleacke’s Geek

  2) Geek Chic

  3) A Bleacke Wind

  4) Bleacke Spirit

  5) A Bleacke Christmas

  6) Geek-Speak

  7) Bleacke Expectations

  The Great Turning Series:

  1) The Great Turning

  2) The Great Turning: Into the Turn

  3) The Great Turning: Future Ages

  Governor Trilogy:

  1) Governor

  2) Lieutenant

  3) Chief

  4) Yes, Governor

  5) Pet

  Determination Trilogy:

  (A stand-alone trilogy set in the same world as the Governor Trilogy.)

  1) Dignity

  2) Diligence

  3) Desire

  Devastation Trilogy:

  (A stand-alone trilogy set in the same world as the Governor Trilogy.)

  1) Dirge

  2) Solace

  3) Release

  Inequitable Trilogy:

  (A stand-alone trilogy set in the same world as the Governor Trilogy.)

  1) Indiscretion

  2) Innocent

  3) Incisive

  Devout Trilogy:

  (A stand-alone trilogy set in the same world as the Governor Trilogy.)

  1) Sacred

  2) Profane

  3) Penance

  Maxim Colonies:

  1) Jailmates

  2) Farborn

  3) Saudade

  Of Boardwalks and Bison

  Cross Country Chaos

  Poly

  Her Vampire Obsession (Midnight Doms Series)

  Coming Soon:

  Deviant Trilogy

  How Many Times Do I Have to Say I’m Sorry?

  Lesli Richardson is better known by her more prolific Tymber Dalton pen name. Please check out her website for more info on all her titles under both her pen names, including full book and series listings, trivia, character information, and more.

  http://www.tymberdalton.com

  Author's Note

  Politics are messy, nasty, sexy, brutal, funny, impossibly complex, and a lot of fun to write about. (Mostly because they’re messy, nasty, sexy, brutal, funny, and impossibly complex.)

  Since the focus of this trilogy isn’t the politics so much as it is the people, I’ve taken certain liberties and simplified a few things here and there.

  But the kinky shit is absolutely realistic.

  The Devout Trilogy is a spin-off featuring characters first introduced in the Inequitable Trilogy, and set in the same world as the books in the Governor Trilogy, Determination Trilogy, Devastation Trilogy, and others. It is a standalone trilogy that can be read separately from those books.

  It is suggested the books in the Devout Trilogy be read in order:

  Sacred

  Profane

  Penance

  Dedication

  For Hubby, for all he does and for over two decades of love and support.

  Chapter One

  Now

  Standing here on the stairs in our DC townhouse and watching my husband’s back as he disappears to our bedroom, I’m…reeling.

  To have my suspicions confirmed, even though I think I had myself convinced I was wrong.

  I wanted to be wrong.

  Even after unlocking Liam’s old cell phone and reading all the e-mails for myself, seeing the pictures and videos taken while he was in college and law school.

  Confirmation that my husband’s “ghost”—his old college roommate and boyfriend who ghosted him on graduation day, and who never so much as contacted Liam again—is none other than the newly sworn in freshman US senator from Georgia, one Ward Mason Callahan.

  And they’ve picked up exactly where they left off as of a couple of weeks ago on swearing in day, my hubby apparently taking full advantage of the hall-pass fuck waiver I stipulated before we got married ten years ago.

  Yes, when I first met Ward Callahan on that day, I knew for certain that he was my Liam’s “ghost.”

  I knew.

  I knew it the same way I can be blindfolded and tied up and still sense where Liam is within the room.

  I felt it at a visceral level, part instinct and part learned observation.

  I’ve only seen Liam visibly rattled like that two other times during our fourteen total years together—when his mother died, and again when his father died.

  It’s not that Liam isn’t capable of being rattled, but feeling it and letting his feelings show, especially in public, are two different things. He’s a fucking ruthless attorney. I’ve sat in a courtroom and watched him cross-examin
e witnesses and mesmerize juries during opening and closing arguments. I’ve seen videos of depositions he’s taken.

  His skill in this way is one of the reasons he was such a high-earner when he actively practiced law full-time for a living.

  But just seeing Ward visibly rattled my hubby. Even before Liam introduced me to him, I suspected Ward was his ghost. I’m good at making evaluations of people and situations on the fly, which is an invaluable skill for successfully performing my job.

  It wasn’t just my gut, though. For starters, now the word that my husband sometimes spoke in his sleep, a word I was never certain I heard correctly, made perfect sense. Because I had thought he was saying “wood,” or “word,” or “what.”

  It wasn’t just a word—it was a name.

  Ward.

  In addition, the men look to be about the same age, and my appearance at that moment obviously throws Liam into a borderline panic without me understanding why.

  Until Ward Callahan talks to me when Liam steps away for a moment, presumably to speak to the vice president. Except again, in my gut, I know it is merely an excuse to buy Liam a moment to pull himself together.

  That’s when I confirm it. Because as Liam hurries away, Callahan’s head swivels, watching Liam, even while he answers my questions.

  “You and Liam met at NYU?” I ask as casually as possible. “Law school?”

  Ward slowly nods, maybe not even realizing he is giving himself away. “Undergrad. We were roommates.”

  I know damned well Liam only had one roommate during college and law school.

  Motherfucker.

  I should be commended for my incredible self-control in not launching myself onto Ward Callahan in a screaming rage and getting arrested for assaulting a newly sworn in US senator.

  A thousand possibilities flick through my mind as I watch that man watching my husband while we talk. Callahan’s blue gaze burns with a hungry, desperate fire I know all too well.

  The desperation of a man barely surviving, who’s gone too long without getting what he truly needs. A man—married to a woman, mind you—so desperate that he would stand there and actively eye-fuck the other man’s husband right in front of him, without explaining the full truth of the matter.

  But then Callahan left and Liam returned and I wondered if, maybe, I was overreacting, or perhaps, just possibly, wrong.

  I mean, I’m rarely wrong, but stranger things have happened. It is DC, after all.

  Of course I was willing to give Liam the benefit of the doubt. Besides, having that particular emotionally charged conversation wasn’t going to take place there, at work.

  In the fucking US Capitol building.

  No fucking way.

  Except…

  I knew. Even though I wanted to gaslight the hell out of myself and pretend it didn’t happen, my gut wouldn’t let it drop.

  I decided the best course of action would be to wait and see what happened next. Because on the remote possibility I was wrong, I didn’t want to accidentally trigger Liam and dredge up his painful past.

  Or do damage to an innocent man’s life.

  Or get myself arrested for assaulting a senator.

  Unfortunately, I was not wrong. Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve felt unusual tension build in Liam, a jumpiness he’s never exhibited before, and I knew I needed to talk to him about it. Because I wanted him to know that I knew the truth. And that, despite the anger I’ve held at “the ghost” on Liam’s behalf all these years, if he wanted to cash in his hall-pass fuck with Ward Callahan…

  I was good with that.

  Really good. I mean, the guy’s gorgeous.

  Until I realized Liam likely already had cashed that chit in without letting me know first.

  That pissed me off and set me on a journey to get proof before I confronted him. I really hoped he’d come clean before the confrontation, meaning I’d still be pissed, but at least he’d taken the step to atone.

  He did not. Meaning I was now on a quest.

  This morning, I remembered the old cell phone. The one in Liam’s desk at home.

  The one I never saw him carry on him, but he refused to throw away, even though he never used it. And the one that managed to travel between our houses, despite never being used.

  Imagine my utter lack of surprise when I left work early, claiming I felt sick, headed home, and retrieved that phone from his desk, just to find it fully charged. And locked.

  Not with the same passcode he’s always used on both his work and personal phones, either.

  Without success, I tried several passcodes that seemed obvious to me.

  But when I had a thought…

  I felt sick inside as I pulled out my personal cellphone, hit Ward Callahan’s Wikipedia page, and then tried 1016.

  The phone unlocked.

  October 16th—Ward’s birthday.

  Even before I swiped into the pictures and then read through the e-mail account, I already knew in my soul what I’d find.

  I wish I could say I was shocked but I wasn’t. Not about finally confirming the identity of Liam’s ghost and proof of my husband’s infidelity.

  When I married my husband, we’d been dating for nearly four years. I understood he was a package deal by default, a ménage, even if he didn’t consciously realize it because one of the participants was perpetually MIA.

  Honestly? I choose to believe Liam did not realize it back then. Not really. Hell, I’m not even sure if he fully understands that now.

  There have always been three people in our relationship and, later, our marriage: me, him, and goddamned Ward Mason Callahan.

  Fucker.

  I didn’t know Ward’s name back then, obviously. All I knew was that Ward shattered the heart and trust of the man I love, and I’ve always wanted to seek some sort of revenge for that transgression.

  I never dreamed Ward returning to Liam’s life would or could become a reality. Or that Liam would ever have an opportunity to fuck him.

  Much less that I’d fall for the fucker, too.

  It took me a couple of hours to read through all the e-mails. Apparently, Liam started sending them immediately after Ward ghosted, but Ward never responded. Over the years, Liam seemed to use those e-mails as a type of therapy. In fact originally, many of them weren’t sent. Liam would stick them in the drafts folder after writing them. He even said as much in several of the e-mails, that it was more for him to work through stuff in a safe way.

  But then Ward returned to his life. That very same night of the swearing in, Liam opened the drafts folder and sent the e-mails.

  Allll of them. Years’ worth.

  Reading through them, I realized something I never understood before—Liam genuinely loves Ward and always has. Liam felt responsible for him and wondered if he was the one at fault for Ward’s disappearance. Between the lines of heartbreaking grief, pain, and anger, I read the pure, undying love Liam still held for Ward.

  I love what my husband and Master loves. I cherish what he cherishes.

  He’s my Master, and I take that as seriously as he does.

  Besides, let’s face it, Ward Callahan is a damned hottie. Other than being pissed off because Liam acted like a total fucking idiot and took completely unacceptable risks, I know damned well I’ll never bag Ryan Reynolds as my hall-pass fuck.

  If having Ward will help Liam heal, and I can jump in and have fun, too, I’m all for it.

  As long as we can do it in secret and not ruin our lives in the process.

  Doesn’t mean I won’t first make the two of them pay for being total dumbasses.

  I’m certain there are those who’d call what Liam did cheating. Now, under other circumstances, I would absolutely agree with you.

  But considering he’s my husband, and I’m the one who set the hall-pass fuck rules in the first place, I think I am the one who gets to decide how this plays out, thank you very much. I have a reputation for being somewhat pedantic at times. When I agree to somethi
ng—even if it’s something most people believe is far-fetched, like the situation we’re in right now—I mean it.

  Not saying I like how this played out, or that it’s a scenario I ever dreamed would occur, but such is the blessing and curse of the hall-pass fuck card.

  If you honestly think I would have turned up my nose at a chance to fuck Ryan Reynolds, then you obviously do not know this motherfucker standing right here.

  Ward is no Ryan Reynolds.

  But he’s damn sure not dog food, either. I see the faint resemblance to me, even though Ward’s seven years older than I am. Even before I browsed all the old pictures of them in college, I could imagine a younger man with trimmer lines and a few less pounds on his frame, and no, I don’t blame Liam at all.

  Hell, I absolutely would’ve done him, were he my HPF.

  The difference is, I would have given Liam a heads-up first that I was cashing it in. A courtesy notice, like we agreed to in the first place.

  Also, Liam should have given me the opportunity to ask to join in.

  That’s what I’m really pissed off about. That, and the continued secrecy, and their insanely stupid risk-taking. Come home and fuck in our house like civilized men, where there’s no risk of someone accidentally stumbling across what you’re doing. Don’t do it in a tiny hideaway office on Capitol Hill, where some stupid fucking college—or Christ, high school—intern can catch you in the act and make themselves a tidy sum selling pics or video to TMZ.

  I’m still too raw and angry to admit to Liam or Ward that when I confirmed what was going on, my first gut reaction wasn’t betrayal, but lust.

  Honestly? I’m not pissed off that Liam’s fucking Ward.