Sacred (Devout Trilogy Book 1), page 19
That means there’s only one answer I can give my husband. “Yes.”
“If he doesn’t agree to this, then you delete the e-mail account, you destroy the burner phone, you don’t run for re-election, and then once I can, I’ll resign and we’ll leave DC for good. And you’ll never have contact with him again, of any kind, or I’m gone.”
Fear fills me once more. “Yes.”
He releases me and I nearly topple over. “Call him. Right now.” He shoves the burner into my hand. “Speaker mode. Ask him if he’s alone and can talk.”
I fumble it and manage to not drop it. After opening the secure app, I start the call and switch to speaker mode.
I’m still on my knees, Daniel standing over me, hands in his pockets as he stares down at me.
Ward answers on the third ring. “Hello, Master.”
Daniel’s staring me in the eyes as I speak. “Hello, boy. Are you alone, and can you talk?”
“Yes. Olivia’s gone. Is everything all right?”
Daniel arches an eyebrow at me.
I swallow because my mouth’s gone dry. “No. It’s not.” Daniel nods his encouragement. I tell Ward what happened and go through all the points while Daniel watches me and Ward listens without interruption.
When I finish, Daniel holds out his hand for the phone. I pass it to him. “This is Daniel Walker-Davis. You know, the man who’s husband and Master you’ve been fucking behind his back?”
There’s a long pause and we both look to see if the call dropped.
It hasn’t.
“H-hello,” Ward finally says.
“Do you agree to these terms, boy?” Daniel snaps. “Yes, or no?”
I realize I’m holding my breath as I once again confront the inferno in my husband’s eyes.
“Yes.”
Daniel’s gaze narrows as he stares me down. “Yes, what?”
Another long pause before Ward’s voice drifts from the phone. “Yes, Sir.”
It alternately twists my heart and hardens my cock to hear him call my husband that.
“Get a pen and write this down.” Daniel rattles off our DC address. “You get that?”
“Y-yes, Sir.”
“Repeat it back to me.”
Ward does.
“Be here in thirty minutes or less, or forget you ever knew my husband as anything but a coworker. Do not let yourself be followed by anyone, and don’t tell anyone where you’re going.” He punches the end button and pockets the burner.
I slump onto my ass on the floor, adrenaline spiking through me as he turns and heads toward the stairs. “Now what?” I call after him.
He pauses and turns to me. “Upstairs, naked, spread-eagled on the bed. Face-up. Now.”
Jumping to my feet, I race to comply. I don’t care what I have to do—if he wants to beat my ass, I’ll take every stroke and then some.
Anything, just to save this.
To save us.
As I hurry past him, his hand shoots out and he snags my hair again, pulling me in for a long, deep kiss. “No, I’m not topping you tonight, but I have a feeling if I don’t tie you down, you’ll jump in and flip me, and I need you and him both to understand how damned serious I am. You two took a huge fucking risk. It’s only sheer luck someone didn’t catch you two in the damned act.”
“I love you so much, baby.”
He grimly smiles. “Let’s see how much you love me after I put my marks on my boy.” He releases me.
I’m halfway up the stairs when he calls out to me and I turn.
“You’re turned on like crazy right now, aren’t you?”
I’m not going to lie. “The thought of watching the two of you together? Yeah.”
“Has this always been a fantasy of yours?”
“No. Never thought it’d be possible.”
“You never imagined us in a three-way? Because, I gotta tell you, I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to spit-roast Ryan Reynolds between us.” The barest hints of my boy’s smile quirks the corners of his lips.
Shame fills me again. “I’m so sorry, baby. I—”
“No.” The hard-ass returns. “Stop with the apologies. Words are meaningless. I want to see your actions going forward. And his. No more secrets, and you’re going to accept me being a total bitch for a while, right?”
I nod. “As long as you need.”
He takes a step up. “Best-case scenario, he divorces his wife in a couple of years and moves in with us as a ‘roommate,’ since you’re old friends. But he’ll still be my boy. I get control of him and your time with him. That’s ongoing. I might never drop that stipulation, even once you’re out of the doghouse.”
Dare I even hope that might be a possibility? “Agreed.”
He takes another step up. “There might be nights I use him and don’t let you have him. You don’t get to pull the Master card on me over it, either. You don’t get to be pissy or whiny about it. My boy—my decision.”
I nod. “Agreed. He belongs to you.”
His next step puts him two risers below me on the stairs. “Do I still belong to you?” he quietly asks, the hard-ass momentarily disappearing. The visceral ache in his tone shreds me.
“Yes, you’re still my boy, if you want me. Whatever you need from me, I’ll do it. As long as it takes.”
“Even if I keep moving the goalposts on you? Because I can tell you right now, I probably will.”
“Even if it takes us the rest of our lives. I will grovel like a motherfucker until the last breath leaves my body if it means you won’t leave me. I never wanted to hurt you, and this is completely my fault. You did nothing wrong. You’ve always been my perfect boy. I’m the one who failed you.”
He blinks back tears, breaking my heart. “I’m going to need time to trust you again. I swore I’d never let someone hurt me and stay in my life, and yet, here I am, still giving you power over me to gut me when what I should do is walk out that door and never look back.”
“I know, baby. I’m sorry.”
He angrily brushes the tears away. “It’s going to fucking hurt, and it’s going to take a while. You hurt me, but he hurt you first. I want him to get a taste of how hard it was putting you back together again. I have a lot of anger and resentment over what he did to you.”
I nod. “I know.”
“Have you taken it out of his hide? Punished him for all the tears and pain?”
I swallow hard. “Not yet. It was on my list.”
“Okay. Guess it gets added to mine, then.” He points up the stairs. “I’ll be right there.”
I turn and head up, unbuttoning my shirt as I walk to our bedroom.
I’ve made Daniel cry a lot during our marriage, but only in play, never for bad reasons.
Still…
I’m not going to lie. The thought of my boy exacting punishment on Ward for breaking my heart all those years ago?
I catch sight of myself and my evil smile in the dresser mirror as I pass it.
That’s the smile of a monster.
It’s almost enough to scare me.
Almost.
I truly hope Ward meant it when he said he wished he could make it up to me for all the years of pain and loneliness I endured when he ghosted.
Because Daniel’s going to take it out of Ward’s ass for me.
Literally.
I know I hurt my boy, but in Daniel’s world, there is only one sin worse than me hurting him—and that’s the fact that someone else hurt me.
Discarding my shirt, I remove my undershirt and work on my slacks.
My boy’s going to unleash holy terror on Ward. And when Daniel’s finished exacting punishment, and has satisfied and soothed the pain in his soul, and established to Ward who the true Alpha is between them?
Then it’ll be my turn.
There’s no way I’ll ever let Ward run from us now.
Even if I have to ruin him—and myself—to keep him.
The End
Liam, Daniel, and Ward’s story is continued in Profane and Penance. Keep reading for a free preview from Profane (Devout Trilogy book 2).
https://tymberdalton.com/books/series-info/devout-trilogy/
The World of the Governor Trilogy
The world of the Governor Trilogy revolves around rich and powerful men and women who pull the strings of various governmental entities—and each other—in a multitude of ways. There are a variety of romantic pairings and sub-tropes, and all of the books contain varying elements of power exchange relationships.
The seminal trilogy is the Governor Trilogy—which morphed into (as of this writing) five books.
Governor
Lieutenant
Chief
Yes, Governor
Pet
While the trilogies can be read in any order, and characters from various trilogies make appearances in some of the other trilogies, the best reading order to avoid spoilers and to not miss any backstory tidbits is as follows:
Governor Trilogy
Determination Trilogy
Devastation Trilogy
Inequitable Trilogy
Devout Trilogy
Deviant Trilogy
You can always check out the Governor Trilogy page on my website to keep track of any new additions to the world. Yes, there will be more books set in this world coming in the future.
https://tymberdalton.com/books/series-info/governor-trilogy/
Keep reading for a preview from Profane (Devout Trilogy book 2) by Lesli Richardson.
Preview: Profane (Devout Trilogy 2)
The following is a preview from Profane (Devout Trilogy 2) by Lesli Richardson.
Description
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.
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-examine 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.
