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  Chapter Three

  Now

  I join my pets at the hotel window and drape my arms around their shoulders. We won’t have much time to savor tonight’s victory because we still have work to do in our state.

  A lot of work.

  Maybe it only reinforces my bastard rep, but I take great comfort knowing that there’s no way Owen will ever leave us now. Not willingly, and not if he’s still breathing.

  The new life within Susa is all the guarantee I need of that. It brings me comfort on a number of levels, soothes my soul.

  My dreams can finally come true via my boy’s love for us both. His dreams can come true, too.

  Now all we have to do is spend the next four years working toward getting Susa elected, and the hat trick is complete.

  Doctors say our son appears healthy and is developing normally, according to schedule despite the ordeal he and Susa endured. Susa’s face still looks a little more gaunt than I’d like to see, and she’s still about ten pounds under her weight at the time of the plane crash, but doctors have assured me she’s doing well.

  A very large part of me wishes Owen and I had begged her to pull out of the campaign, coerced a promise from her in the hospital, pleaded with her to return to private life so we could just…be.

  Be a family.

  Be happy.

  I am not a crier, especially in front of others, but I unabashedly wept tears of joy when I was reunited with her, put eyes and hands on her, confirmed without a doubt it absolutely was her and not a cruel mistake.

  Until I saw her lying on that stretcher, part of me was still convinced, despite seeing a crappy picture sent by the ship’s crew, that it wouldn’t be her.

  Don’t get me wrong—no matter my plans, my scheming, my bastardly ways, I do deeply love this woman. I wouldn’t have married her if I didn’t love her. I wouldn’t have done that to her or Owen.

  Except there are many kinds of love. Mine has deepened and grown for her in unexpected ways since that afternoon in Las Vegas. She’s my pet, and I take that responsibility seriously. She’s my friend, and I never wanted to betray that friendship. She’s my wife, my partner in crime, my sounding board, my political muse.

  All these complicated pieces fit together perfectly within my heart in ways I never anticipated. I don’t want to contemplate what would have happened to me if it hadn’t been her that was rescued.

  I honestly don’t know if I would have had the strength to keep going. She has become a vital part of my soul, moving through my body with every beat of my heart, in different ways than Owen has, but every bit as important to me.

  And now, she’s going to be the mother of our child.

  Over our years together, Susa’s helped make me a better man, and I recognize this. Owen will always come first in our lives, but she’s a close second, in my heart and soul.

  It also means I give my all to making her dreams come true, and one such dream is for her to become governor. I promised her this at the beginning, and I might be many things, but I am no longer a man who ever goes back on his promises, as long as there is breath in my body and the ability for me to keep going.

  I never want to be that man again, the man I was before the full-on bastard extraordinaire.

  The man who could walk away and not look back.

  I don’t recognize that man anymore, over twenty-five years later. Maybe Sarge can remember him, because he formed a lot of who I was then.

  Even the bastard has his limits.

  So now we start Owen’s second term in office, even while casting a careful eye to setting up everything for Susa’s election bid. We’ll make no coy equivocations about whether or not she’ll run in four years—we paint her as the heir-apparent from day one of Owen’s second term.

  Tomorrow morning, we’ll start our day by delivering a journalistic ratfuck to one Kevin Markos. Give him some payback for that bullshit interview four years ago after the school shooting, where he outrageously accused Owen of it being a publicity stunt.

  All week I’ve been squirreling on the guy regarding an interview time for tomorrow, changing it on him several times, finally granting him a walk-and-talk first thing in the morning, at the hotel, letting him have first chance at interviewing Owen before we sit down with any other networks.

  What the fucker doesn’t know yet is I’ve already scheduled a sit-down at WFLA, the Tampa NBC affiliate. It’ll happen first thing, immediately after Owen talks with Kevin Markos. We’re talking to WFLA’s local political reporter and doing both our Today and MSNBC network interviews from their studio.

  Only I’m part of the interview, because we’re going to give them the scoop that Susa’s pregnant.

  I’m hoping we hear Markos’ howls all the way across Tampa when that news breaks.

  Hey, you do not fucking piss me off.

  The fastest way to fucking piss me off is to fuck with or piss off my boy or my girl.

  Especially my boy. My girl is a political animal who is more than capable of standing up for herself with the press, but she likes it when I get protective.

  Someone messing with Owen, however, will bring out my inner grizzly bear, even if it takes me years to finally gain my revenge.

  Soon enough, the world will know about our son.

  If we’re really lucky, Kevin Markos will be out of a job.

  Well, probably not, but a guy can dream, can’t he?

  “We need to get some sleep,” I tell them. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long-ass day.”

  Owen sighs and meets my gaze before he kisses me, then Susa. “Yes, Sir. I know.”

  I rub his head, loving the way he sighs, the tension flowing from him. “Such a good boy,” I coo.

  Although what I’d love to do is fuck both their brains out tonight, Owen and I are extremely careful with Susa. The doctors gave her permission to continue normal sexual activities unless she exhibits symptoms of premature contractions.

  I’m still…cautious.

  I won’t spank her or do any kind of play like that with her, don’t make her kneel, despite her feeling up to doing it and begging me to allow her to kneel. One compromise I did make was she is allowed to sit on the bed, or couch, or a chair, and do modified versions of the poses, but I flipped Owen into equals mode to help me gang up on her and demand she allow us to be overprotective dads-to-be.

  I even played the guilt card—hello, still a bastard—and reminded her that we thought she was dead. The least she could do was allow us to set reasonable limits that put our minds at ease.

  She finally caved, even though she pouted like crazy over me not doing impact play with her.

  I know she’s secretly pleased that we’re both fussing over her behind closed doors, babying her. As much as she loves and misses the darker side of the sadist, I see the way she smiles when I make her sit down and relax, or I refuse to let her do something and I do it for her when Owen’s not with us.

  Which, unfortunately, because of the campaign, he’s frequently not with us.

  My absence at his side on the campaign trail is easily explained—duh, my wife had a near-death experience. I try to miss as few events as possible, sometimes sending Dray with him, or having Dray and Gregory stay with Susa so she’s not alone, if I go with Owen.

  That, I know, is driving her crazy—that we will not leave her alone unless she’s in a bathroom or safe in her office. At first it was me and her parents, then her parents, after I resumed working full-time at the office.

  Once she finally convinced her parents to stop coming over every day, I personally paid from my own pockets for off-duty FHP officers from her security detail to come in and stay with her when Dray couldn’t work from our townhouse, drive her to doctor appointments when I couldn’t be there, and never leave her alone.

  She haaaates that.

  Yet she’s tolerating it, because when I told her I was doing it and she argued with me, Owen broke down sobbing and begged her to give in and let me do it.

 
; Thankfully, my pet is even more of a softy about our boy than I am, in some ways.

  Yes, I rewarded him well for that later, even though it wasn’t planned, on his part.

  She only took two weeks off from work, and even then she was working remotely from the townhouse. For the first few weeks, she would only come in to the office during the mornings and work from home in the afternoons because she was just too exhausted to stay longer.

  Finally, we strip and go to bed, Susa cuddled between us. There aren’t many nights where Owen can spend the entire night with us now, but this is one of them and I’ll savor it.

  Before her ordeal, Susa and I would always put him in the middle on these rare nights, so he felt both of us.

  Now, Owen wants her in the middle, protected by us both, even though nothing will threaten our wife tonight.

  I don’t argue, and neither does Susa. I know she wouldn’t ask to be in the middle for herself, though, even if she wants to be there.

  When my alarm goes off far too early the next morning, I fumble for my phone on the nightstand, managing to locate it on the third try. “Motherfucker.”

  Owen laughs in the darkness on Susa’s far side. “God, I miss that.”

  “Miss what?” I ask.

  “Your morning grumpiness.” I hear the sheets rustle and Susa mutters something unintelligible, then Owen’s hand finds my hip in the darkness and gently squeezes.

  My cock throbs. Ooooh, yes. My boy and I will definitely be showering together this morning, without a doubt. We usually get more time together than he does with Susa, because I normally head to the mansion early every morning for our workout, either on machines there, or a jog around the neighborhood surrounding the mansion while tailed by the security detail.

  Then I always take my shower there, with Owen, not that the public knows that part.

  As his chief of staff I can get away with stuff like that, and no one’s batting an eye about it. They assume I’m dedicated to my job.

  Since the very beginning, when Owen officially became my submissive, our post-workout shower routine has been an integral part of our day. I pin him to the wall and he asks me for an orgasm.

  And then I give him one.

  He’s not allowed to masturbate without permission, even this many years later.

  He’s our good boy and obeys us.

  Because he loves us, and he trusts us, and he knows we’ll always take care of him. All he has to do is ask.

  I switch on the lamp and give Owen’s hand a squeeze before I sit up. When I look, Susa’s pulled the sheet over her head and rolled to face Owen. She’s still mumbling, and Owen’s wearing an adorable smile as he stares at the Susa-shaped lump under the covers.

  I pull the sheet down and lean in to kiss her tummy. “Good morning, Petey.” Then I kiss her. “Good morning, pet.”

  And my boy. This morning he grabs my head and kisses me. Fortunately, we’ll have a shower and time before the walk-and-talk downstairs with Markos for our lips to not be swollen any longer.

  The last chance we’ll have to really kiss like this—versus a quick kiss that’s a mere brush of lips over lips—until tonight. And then after tonight, our opportunities will be limited mostly to weekend nights at the townhouse, when we can make it look logical that Owen would stop by.

  I savor my boy’s kisses, these sweet moments outside of time, the feel of his fingers pressing against the back of my head, the rasp of morning stubble against each other’s cheeks.

  Kissing.

  He’s a damn good kisser, and always has been. His kisses like this have always been able to harden my cock every bit as much as the darker, secret play Susa and I shared in those early days together.

  His tongue traces my teeth, plays with my tongue, thoroughly explores my mouth as he reacquaints himself with territory denied to him too frequently these past few months.

  I don’t rush him. He’s always good about minding the time, and he needs this from me today.

  Besides, I’m damn sure enjoying it.

  When I feel Susa’s fingers wrap around my cock, I don’t even stop that, although I had planned on putting that load inside Owen’s ass in the shower.

  There are few things I can deny my pet now, even though, before, she would have been thoroughly spanked for trying to make us late.

  Owen swallows my needy groan and intensifies this kiss. I can feel the warm silk of Susa’s hair against the hollow of my throat as she strokes me, and then Owen’s gasp makes me realize I’m not the only one she’s taken control of like this.

  Okay, fuck it. No shower sex today. This is better.

  Much better.

  She sighs as we settle into a rhythm fucking her hands, now doing all the work for her. I reach between her legs to play with her and give her relief and realize Owen’s hand is already there.

  I go lower, sliding one finger inside her pussy and my cock jerks in her hand at her sweet moan.

  And still, Owen and I kiss.

  I don’t even bother holding back, wanting Owen to have more of her undivided attention this morning. I slide my other arm under his head and take control of the kiss, nibbling and biting his lips as I come and spill all over her hand and her stomach. With Susa sweetly squirming between us, I know it won’t take long for him to come, either.

  I pull my finger from her pussy, swipe it through the mess I’ve made, and draw my lips back from his just enough to slide my finger in there.

  He eagerly sucks it, swirling his tongue around my digit and completely cleaning it. I do it again and again, his green gaze looking sweetly subspacey as he finally groans with his own climax.

  “Take care of pet,” I order, releasing him.

  He immediately dives between her legs, and then I kiss her as he makes her moan and arch and squirm for us.

  She’s gorgeous, and she’s ours.

  Just like with Owen, I know she’s not going anywhere, either. All those years ago, she fell as hard for the bastard as I fell for Owen, and as hard as Owen fell for her.

  After she’s come and she’s finally patted Owen on the head to stop, he returns to us, kissing her, and then me.

  I run my fingers through his blond hair. There’s some grey there now, just like there is in mine, but it makes him look even more handsome. I still see the boy I fell for in the dorm room, the lovable, lonely man who stole my heart.

  He turns his face to kiss my palm. “Okay, so that’s a nice way to start the day.” He smiles as Susa giggles.

  Her giggle hasn’t changed, even though, like us, there are more lines in her face, a little grey in her brown hair, which she’s stopped coloring, for now.

  I can still see the girl ancient beyond her years, the girl whose shadows seduced mine.

  The girl whose father probably still wants to kill me, even though he’s learned to tolerate me around her.

  “Good morning, Sir,” she says, kissing me. Then she turns to Owen and gives him a longer kiss, wanting to do right by our boy. “Good morning, boy.”

  His eyes always light up with her. They do for me, too, but it’s different, and long ago I learned not to begrudge that.

  The important thing is we’re together, and we love each other.

  And in a few short months, we’re going to be parents.

  The one dream I thought I’d never be able to make come true for our sweet boy, and the one thing I know will finish healing the last thin spots in his soul after the childhood he survived.

  Although, I guess in some small, secret way I should give private thanks to Elandra Marriott Solemar being a raging, narcissistic thundercunt. Because if she hadn’t, I might not have been able to so easily win our boy’s heart.

  Chapter Four

  Then

  I have spent the past weeks I’ve known Owen studying him, studying how he interacts with me and with Susa, learning everything I can about him. Gently testing cause and effect variables in ways that might make me a bastard but which won’t cause him harm or distress
.

  I need to know these things about him.

  All of that pays off when, four weeks into the semester, that Thursday morning Owen is summoned—and literally that’s how I’d label it—to Orlando for a Saturday night dinner at his mother’s house.

  He.

  Freaks.

  Out.

  I’m not even exaggerating.

  Owen’s terrified. All I want to do is pull him into my arms and hold him, promise to take care of him, and give him anything within my power to if he’ll just walk away from her and never look back and give himself to me.

  These are all things I cannot say to him. Not yet.

  While I know Susa is deeply in love with me, Owen doesn’t even know I’m bi yet, much less that I’m in love with him.

  But finally getting to meet Owen’s mother means I’ll be able to study the dynamic they have in person. I mean, I’m positive she’ll be on her best behavior tonight, in front of a houseful of guests, but every narcissist has their tells, and Owen’s been beyond her direct reach for over a month.

  She’s more than likely to strike at him, meaning Susa and I can finally begin the deprogramming process in earnest.

  That Owen lets me set rules for him for the evening, and lets me drive us over in his car, just emphasizes how emotionally wrecked he is right now.

  Susa and I are his safe oasis, his unconditional acceptance.

  Love.

  Things he didn’t get from his mother. Things I suspect she’s incapable of giving.

  Hopefully, having me with him will only help highlight to him how sweet and easy being with me and Susa feels compared to…this.

  The first time I meet Owen’s mother, the bastard extraordinaire wants to tell her to go fuck herself and spirit Owen out of there within five minutes of our arrival. That’s because upon our initial introduction, she gives me a blatantly obvious glare while looking me up and down before deciding I will do as a guest in her home that evening and then dismissing us both.

  Boy do I want to tell her to go fuck herself.