Chapter Twenty-Four
Donovan
“I find this action highly suspect.” Tyson glanced around the fancy Point Grey neighborhood.
I unlocked Cole’s house with my key. Well, Cole, Caressa, and Michael’s house. Not that I could forget that minor fact. More that saying all three names was a pain in my ass.
But I loved them all—so trying to be more inclusive was important.
I stepped inside and quickly disarmed the alarm.
Hamish followed me in with no trepidation. He believed me when I said we were welcome.
Tyson followed with his brow furrowed. “This doesn’t feel right.”
I punched him in the shoulder. None too lightly.
Then I closed the front door and threw the lock.
Of course the owners of the house could easily use their keys, but they were way too busy to consider coming home.
And a flight from LA would take hours. Add travel to and from the airport, as well as customs, and even if they left the award ceremony right now, they still wouldn’t make it before about four a.m. I planned to be long gone by then.
As I eyed my men, I revised that upward. We might just lounge about for a while in the afterglow. We did that. A lot.
I toed off my shoes.
Hamish pulled off his loafers.
Tyson untied the laces of his boots, sighed, and yanked them off.
When he straightened, I grasped his cheeks in my hands and yanked him in for a kiss. A soul-searing, heart-stopping, deep, and abiding kiss.
He reacted. As he always did. He yanked me against him, and despite our winter coats, he pressed his body to mine.
His rigid erection brushed mine, despite the layers of denim.
Hamish pressed himself against my back and wrapped his arms around me. They were long enough that he could get a good grasp of Tyson as well.
Between kissing Tyson and Hamish squeezing me, breathing became a challenge. Had I not required air, I could’ve stayed like that forever.
Well, naked held great appeal as well.
Tyson pulled back from the kiss, gasping for air. “We need to get out of these coats.”
“No argument here.” Hamish pulled back and started to undo his wool coat. “Although the house is cooler than I expected.”
“They’re in LA for almost a week. Academy Award party week and all that.” I snickered. “And Cole, the environmentalist, would never waste electricity heating his precious house.”
Tyson stopped undoing his coat. “So he doesn’t know we’re here.”
Shit.
“No, he knows. But he knew we’d be coming later in the week.
I meant to come earlier to turn on the heat, but I forgot.
” I chanced a glance up at my cop lover who was definitely not buying the bullshit I was shoveling.
“Look, do you want to call him and ask if this is okay?” I yanked out my phone and started to pull up Cole’s contact information.
Tyson had it in his phone as well—what with Cole being my best friend.
We six had grown close. Once Tyson got over his scruples about Cole being a victim and a friendship being ill-advised.
Tyson had served his suspension. And returned to work without a problem. Well, a few whispers from coworkers, but he figured that was more because he’d come out as bisexual as anything else. We’d yet to come out as a throuple.
Hamish’s disciplinary hearing had been…more painful.
Tyson and I had both submitted statements that, apparently, carried some sway.
That and, according to Hamish, members of the governing body were loath to pull licenses.
Even from psychologists who’d done egregious things.
I’d checked out the list of suspended practitioners on the website, and yeah, one had to do some horrible things.
Hamish believed us becoming intimate before his hearing had even been scheduled was a bad thing.
His need for self-flagellation hit such a high point that I’d been forced to call in the big guns.
I’d called Alessandra.
They’d had a long talk. About all the stuff Hamish hadn’t shared. About everything weighing him down. About his fears for the future and, most importantly, his worries about us.
In the end, he’d received a slap on the wrist from the college.
Well, that was his interpretation. A remedial course about ethics, twenty-five hours of supervised counseling with patients, and a notice that if this happened again, he’d lose his license.
End of story. He felt they’d been too lenient.
Allie and Smith had added on a month’s suspension. More, in my estimation, to give him time to get his shit together. To settle into our relationship. To accept that he could be loved.
Almost six weeks had passed since we’d made things official between the three of us.
Naturally, Cole and his lovers had been the first people we shared that news with.
Allie and Smith already knew, which meant that only Tyson remained.
He’d yet to speak to his boss. As much as he believed her to be progressive, he got the feeling this relationship might be a step too far.
Yet in his darker moments, he would talk about leaving the force and moving into private security or bodyguarding or some shit.
For the record, I only ever wanted him guarding our bodies.
But if he felt that was to be the best way to continue moving forward, we wouldn’t stop him. Except he was a fucking good cop and Vancouver needed him watching over her and her inhabitants.
“Donovan?” Hamish spoke quietly.
I blinked. “Uh, yeah, right.”
“Why are we really here?”
Trust the psychologist to want to divine my true motives.
I cleared my throat. “I want to give you guys a full tour.”
Tyson let out a choked laugh.
Hamish’s brow knit. “What am I missing?”
Our third gave me an indecipherable look. Then he arched an eyebrow. Go ahead. You tell him.
Message received. I cleared my throat. Again. “Cole has an interesting room in the basement.”
Hamish’s eyes went hilariously wide. “A dungeon?” He asked the words in a whisper that likely carried through this entire, cavernous house.
“Yes, a dungeon.” I waited.
“Oh.” He straightened, clearly trying to look all calm and collected. “Smith and Allie have one of those in their house.”
“Have you ever seen it?”
The look of horror on his face was truly comical. “Uh, no, of course not. They’re my bosses,” he hissed.
I couldn’t argue because, although Cole and I had shared many wonderful nights in his dungeon, he’d never been my boss and I’d never been his.
“I’m not sure—” Tyson hedged.
I pressed my finger to his lips. “He issued an open invitation to me the day he bought the place.”
Tyson kissed my finger, then pulled back. “Ah, but did Caressa and Michael? Because it’s their house now too.”
Damn the logical man. “Sure. They’re easygoing.”
God, don’t strike me down on the spot.
Hamish wound his arm around Tyson’s waist. “I’m intrigued.”
Immediately, Tyson’s brow unknit. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Hamish glanced between the two of us. “For experimentation, of course. I have several clients who engage in BDSM. As well as my bosses. I should increase my knowledge. Don’t you think?”
His guileless green eyes met Tyson’s brown ones.
The moment of capitulation couldn’t have been clearer as Tyson tucked his head against Hamish’s shoulder. “In the name of science.”
Fuck yes.
I removed my coat and hung it in the coat closet. Then I took my men’s coats and repeated the process.
Tyson gestured into the house. “Do we just go downstairs?”
“No.” I laughed. “There are negotiations. Discussions.” I grinned. “We might not even make it downstairs tonight—”
“Oh, fuck that.” Tyson took a stern stance. “Because I’m not coming back here again. And with Cole’s filming resuming on VJ next week, when exactly will your friend be leaving again? And taking his partners with him?”
“I’m sure we could convince them to go to Whistler for a weekend—”
“No way.” Tyson’s scowl didn’t lessen. “We do this tonight, or I’m out.”
I tipped my chin toward him. “Are you issuing an ultimatum?” Because that wasn’t like him.
He was about taking time to evaluate all the options.
Of the three of us, I was the impetuous one.
Hence showing up at Cole’s house. Well, I’d planned it out as soon as Cole confirmed the three of them were heading down to LA.
But I had several contingencies. “We could always do this at my house—”
Hamish raised his hands. “Uh, what would your tenant think? I mean, have you…”
“I’ve done some things in my house, yes. I couldn’t rely entirely on having Cole’s place available. I’ve also been to Club Kink, as you know. I mean, we could always go there—”
“Oh hell no.” This time, the corners of Tyson’s mouth twitched.
Yes.
“Do you guys want a drink? No alcohol.” I gestured toward the kitchen.
Hamish snickered. “Yeah, even I know that.”
“Well, one would be okay if you have a decent tolerance.” I glanced meaningfully at Hamish.
He blushed.
“I’ll make a pot of coffee.” Tyson rubbed his stomach. “We ate decent-sized meals.”
“Because we weren’t all nervous.” Hamish scratched his elbow.
“Make a decaffeinated tea for him,” I suggested.
“You got it.” Tyson headed off to the kitchen. We’d been here just enough times for my guys to know their way around.
Hamish leaned over. “We’re not going to, you know, use their bed or—”
I laughed. “No. We’d be welcome to a spare room, but there’s a bed in the dungeon.”
He cocked his head in thought. “Oh, that’s convenient.”
“Yeah. If the urge overtakes you, it’s nice not to have to run upstairs to find a bed. Oh, there’s a nice leather sectional in the party room.”
“Cum stains,” Hamish pointed out, wrinkling his brow.
Ever my practical man. I wouldn’t tell him the things I’d done on that couch. When Cole was otherwise occupied with other people in the bed.
And I loved that, as a triad, we’d been able to ditch the condoms.
Hamish met my gaze, those powerful green eyes mesmerizing me. “So…who’s going to clean up?”
“Well, we’ll do a cursory job tonight. But I’ve arranged for a cleaner to come first thing in the morning. Long before Cole and crew are due back, you’ll be relieved to know. They’ll never know we were here.”
“Something tells me that’s overly optimistic of you, but I’ll choose to believe you because I like my new friends, and I don’t want them weirded out we were here and…using their equipment.” Hamish scrunched his nose.
Is now the right time to tell him a few of my toys are still here? I’d been meaning to remove them, but there’d never been a good time.
Caressa hadn’t taken the discovery of the dungeon well. Then Cole’d been shot and…time had gotten away from all of us. The shooting had been two months ago, but BDSM never came up.
Of course, I’d been busy with my guys.
“Coffee’s on.” Tyson clapped his hands. “And I’ve set the kettle to boil.”
“Donovan’s arranged for a cleaning person to come in.” Hamish grinned. “He’s worried Cole will find out we were here.”
Tyson snickered. “Yeah. Open invitations. Did Cole really extend that offer to you?”
“When he moved in. He gave me a key and my own code.”
“So he can look at the alarm history and know we were here.”
“Sure…but why would he?” I linked my arms with my men and directed us into the kitchen. “We can have our hot drinks in the living room while watching the sunset.”
“That sounds distinctly like bribery.” Hamish grinned. “But it’ll work.”
Cole had the most amazing view of the North Shore Mountains.
And if the sunset was as glorious as the one had been last night, we were in for a real treat.
Hamish and I had caught the sun going down while waiting for Tyson to come home from his shift.
And now, barring any murders, he was off for a couple of days.
I had plans.
The scent of coffee filled the air as the kettle boiled.
Hamish took charge of preparing his tea. Tyson and I were allowed to try, but I always got the feeling we never got it quite right. And that Hamish would never complain.
Fortunately, Tyson liked his coffee strong, and when I indulged, I took it the same way.
We took our steaming mugs into the living room.
As naturally as I did at home, I sat in the middle with each of my partners on either side.
Hamish generally preferred my left while Tyson appeared quite happy to be on the other side.
We took turns, though. Especially if one of the guys had a rough day and needed an extra bit of loving attention.
My work meant I rarely had bad days. Just wasn’t a thing.
Yeah, I had days when I wanted to yell because my instructions weren’t being followed to the letter.
But purely bad days just didn’t happen. I didn’t even have flashbacks to the shooting.
It probably helped that Meggibeth had shot us on the streets of Vancouver and not in our cozy studio.
That would’ve been more traumatic, I was certain.
Hamish tweaked my nose. “What’re you thinking?”
“All the things I’m going to do to you.”