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  An unexpected burst of anger ran through Mara. “So you’d rather stay a secret? You want to live the rest of your life fearing an accidental brush of hands—too long of a lingering glance?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  Landon’s hard gaze made Mara’s chest hurt. “What are you saying?”

  Landon’s chest expanded as he took a deep breath. Mara held hers, bracing for his next words. “I’m saying, I think maybe we should stop. We never meant for you to get this attached. I’m saying…” Landon calmed. It was almost eerie. As if he’d come to a decision that had been wearing on him. “The studio offered me another job in LA. I’m leaving in three weeks. For good.”

  Mara glanced Early’s way, needing to see her reaction. She didn’t look surprised. Early had known this was coming. Mara didn’t know how she felt about that beyond the hurt—more alone than ever, perhaps. It seemed she was the outsider. Mara slid from the table and headed for the stairs without looking back. Neither tried to stop her. When Mara reached the bedroom she’d shared with Landon and Early the past two years, she closed the door, shutting herself away from the secrets they’d kept. From the beginning, she’d always known Early and Landon confided things in each other they kept from her. Before today, Mara hadn’t openly acknowledged to herself how much it hurt. All it had taken was for her to want things they didn’t, and it ripped apart everything they’d shared. She didn’t doubt for a moment wherever Landon went, Early would follow. Early had never truly been hers. Mara was on her own. The first time she’d found herself in bed with two members of her security team, Mara had known things would end badly. She’d thought that it would mean future embarrassment when they sold the story to the tabloids. Mara could’ve never foreseen this—a hole in her chest nothing could fill.

  Chapter Two

  One year later…

  “You’re a fucked-up mess.”

  “Thanks for that,” Mara said, sounding dry even to her ears.

  Farrah tossed her dark hair over one shoulder and straightened the lapels of her ultra-expensive business suit. “I meant that with love, of course.”

  “Of course.” Mara’s dry tone wouldn’t abate. In truth, Farrah had been her agent for fifteen years and had been a rock. Mara knew she didn’t mean to be insulting. She was simply honest to a fault. Too few agents were.

  Farrah opened her briefcase and pulled out a stack of papers. “As much as I’d love to claim I’m an amazing friend who stopped by for tea, I’m here on business.”

  “You’re an amazing friend, nonetheless,” Mara assured her, hoping to make up for her earlier snide tone.

  Farrah flashed her a quick smile. “You’re too good of an actress for me to tell if you’re lying, so I’ll take it. Anyhow,” she said, moving on, “I know you’re taking things slow right now, while you decide if you’re breaking my heart and retiring, but the studio has some stipulations you’ll need to meet before Monday.”

  Mara moved to the window and looked out. “They always do,” she said absently, not really listening. It was pretty today. When was the last time she’d gone anywhere? Her home was three floors of everything a person could dream of having. Between an outdoor pool, indoor pool, game room, entertainment room, bar, gym, and everything in between, she didn’t need to leave the house. Not even for food since she had an assistant for that. Come Monday, she’d have no other choice than to step through the door and take on the world again. She didn’t want it. A hundred times she’d wondered why she’d accepted this role. Maybe because she loved the director. John had always been good to her. Unfortunately, unless she intended to curl up and die, she couldn’t hide forever.

  “You’ll have to have at least one bodyguard with you on-set for insurance purposes. They can’t afford to have you sue them because a crazed fan got to you.”

  Mara couldn’t breathe. She kept her gaze locked on the view outside her window to keep Farrah from seeing her panic. Mara hadn’t hired anyone else since losing Early and Landon. She didn’t have the heart. Now, Farrah was telling her she didn’t have a choice. “What will it take to back out of the contract?”

  “Are you insane?” No doubt, if Mara had any neighbors within shouting distance, Farrah’s screech would’ve had them calling the police. “You can’t back out of a contract two days before they’re set to start filming. You’d be ruined.”

  Mara spent a moment wondering if she cared before deciding she couldn’t be that big of a bitch. That didn’t mean she wasn’t angry with Farrah, though. “I notice you waited until two days before filming begins to tell me about this stipulation. So, really, who’s to blame?”

  Farrah held her silence, forcing Mara to face her. Once the ruthless agent had Mara’s attention, she finally responded. “You’re right. I knew before you signed you’d have to hire a new security team, and I purposely didn’t tell you until it was too late to back out. It’s time for you to move on.”

  Mara faced the window again, hoping to hide her anger. Grief had no expiration date. Fuck Farrah for saying such a thing. Mara should’ve gotten to choose when or if she was ready. “I’ll find someone,” Mara said, because she needed Farrah to leave before she snapped. She’d find someone, because she was a professional. That didn’t mean she was moving on. Sometimes, Mara wondered if she’d ever move on.

  Before Henley, Kieran hadn’t once come in pants. Since marrying the sexy hockey player, Henley seemed to take perverse pleasure in teasing Kieran into completion without permission. The way Henley kept opening his mouth over Kieran’s hardened cock through his pants, nuzzling him, left no doubt his husband fully intended to push him over the edge in public today. Public might be a stretch. They had one witness. Cal sat quietly in the corner, nude—as ordered. Pre-cum dripped from the man’s erection, rolling down his length. Raised welts marred Henley’s back. Kieran couldn’t stop smoothing his hands over the marks as a shirtless Henley kneeled between his knees, doing his best to blow Kieran in his clothes. Cal wouldn’t be allowed to participate. Kieran knew the man wouldn’t even if permission was given, but Kieran didn’t share. Henley was his, and Kieran would rather die than touch anyone else. That didn’t mean they couldn’t indulge their darker sides together. Henley liked to be punished. Kieran loved indulging him. Cal... he had his own needs, as everyone did.

  The Rabbit Warren was an exclusive fetish club. Everyone under its roof had their kinks. Cal was a good guy. He never touched anyone, and no one was allowed to touch him. This was a safe place. The guy simply watched and obeyed.

  Kieran stared down the line of his body at the erection bulging in his pants and Henley’s lips skimming it. He’d been acting strange lately. Not discontent exactly. More like he needed something from Kieran he wasn’t getting. It hurt Kieran’s chest. Kieran could ignore his aching cock, but not his heart. His fingers found Henley’s hair and held on. With a tug, he had Henley’s gaze meeting his. Before Kieran found the words to dig for the answers he needed, his cellphone rang. A growl escaped as he released Henley and dug out his phone. His work calls were on hold. He couldn’t risk it being an emergency.

  “Kieran Steele.” Even to his ears, Kieran sounded aroused and angry.

  “Am I calling at a bad time?”

  “Mara? Is everything okay?” It wasn’t like Mara to call him on a whim. Not to mention, she hadn’t spoken to anyone in almost a year.

  She cleared her throat. It was an uncomfortable sound. “Sorry to call for a favor when it’s been so long since we last talked.”

  “Think nothing of it,” he reassured. “What do you need?”

  Henley popped the button on Kieran’s pants. Kieran’s gaze shot to his. A devilish light entered his husband’s eyes.

  “I’ve taken a new role.”

  “Good for you. It’s time,” he said, interrupting her. Kieran didn’t usually do such things, but Henley was killing him.

  “That seems to be the general consensus. I only agreed because it’s being shot locally. That’s all I have
in me right now,” Mara said, trailing off for a moment. Kieran got it. If he lost Henley, he’d never get up again. Mara cleared her throat again. “Anyhow, Farrah—you remember her, right?”

  Kieran laughed. It turned into a moan he had to quickly smother as Henley slowly slid his zipper down. “Yeah, she’s the agent you chose over me.”

  Mara huffed. “For the thousandth time, you’re a sports agent.”

  “Entertainment is entertainment,” Kieran pushed out through clenched teeth as Henley dragged his teeth down the front of Kieran’s boxers.

  “Whatever,” Mara said, obviously oblivious to Kieran’s distress. “Farrah is demanding I hire new guards. She said something about the studio’s insurance or some shit about liability for my safety. Either way, I don’t know what to do.” She sounded lost. Kieran was one of the few who understood. He’d met Mara through one of his star contracts—Noah Cote. Secrets bred friendships, and they both had their share. Mara didn’t have anything to hide any longer, other than a broken heart. When the whole world knew your face, being shattered was the biggest secret of them all.

  Kieran racked his lust-fogged brain. Normally, he was the best of schemers. Henley’s presence between his knees kept him off balance. “Did they say you needed someone full-time, as in living with you?”

  Mara hummed, as if thinking things over. “No. I don’t believe so.”

  “Then just get someone to follow you around in public, on set, and that sort of thing. Have them report daily—get their forty hours a week plus overtime.”

  “As much as I prefer that idea, I still don’t want just anyone hanging around. You of all people know why replacing them cuts so deep,” Mara added, sounding like it killed her to do so.

  Henley stepped up his game, slipping one finger inside Kieran’s underwear, and stroking his erection skin on skin. Kieran’s hips left the chair. A small gasp came from the corner of the room. Kieran’s head whipped around. His gaze collided with an ice-blue stare. He’d been so distracted, he’d almost forgotten Cal’s presence. It hit Kieran. He knew what to do. “Hold on a second.”

  “Okay.”

  Kieran held the phone away. “I have a job for you.”

  “Yes, sir,” Cal said without question.

  “Henley’s going to bring you this phone and the woman on the other end will tell you where to report.”

  Cal’s gaze never wavered. “Yes, sir.”

  Kieran pressed the phone to his ear again. “Mara, I have the perfect person for the job. He’s obedient. I’ll put him on the phone so you can tell him when and where to report.”

  “Thank god,” Mara breathed. “Thank you for this, Kieran. I didn’t know how you could help, but I knew you would.”

  “Think nothing of it. If roles were reversed, I believe you’d help in any way you could.”

  Without waiting for her response, Kieran held the phone out to Henley. “Take this to Cal and then get back here.”

  Kieran watched as Henley crossed the room. His body moved like a predator, always ready to strike. Kieran’s mouth watered. Goddamn, he loved Henley. Always had. He’d give the man anything. No matter the cost. After passing the phone off, Henley came back to hover over him. He stared down at Kieran with hunger in his eyes. Kieran had to know.

  “Do you need more from me than I’m giving?”

  The lust drained from Henley’s face. He dropped to his knees between Kieran’s again. His gaze never wavered. “You already give me more than anyone else ever could or would. Not to mention, you’re the love of my life. Never think that’s not enough.”

  Kieran couldn’t let this go. It was too important. “You didn’t answer my question. I won’t share you with anyone. Not ever, but I will fuck you right now with Cal as a witness if lashes are no longer keeping the demons at bay.”

  Pain crossed Henley’s features. “I don’t know what I want,” Henley admitted, confirming Kieran’s fears. “You’ve been bringing me to the edge with witnesses for as long as we’ve been together.” The way Henley bit his lip said he was loath to continue before finally spilling the truth. “It’s like everyone here must think I don’t please you at all.”

  Rage had Kieran shooting forward in his seat and capturing Henley’s lips in a punishing kiss. He had to eat away those words from Henley’s tongue—banish the thought from his brain. Anger and hurt swirled in Kieran’s gut. He’d burn this building to the ground if he thought a single person inside believed Henley didn’t please him. Kieran was dark, twisted, and obsessive. No one except Henley knew how Kieran had stalked him until he’d won this gorgeous man. The fact that Henley existed pleased Kieran more than eighty percent of the world. His kiss wiped out the other twenty percent.

  Kieran’s head hit the back of the chair as Henley overwhelmed him. The man’s hands were everywhere. Cool air brushed Kieran’s erection. Henley tore his mouth away and went down on Kieran. Kieran’s hips rose to meet Henley’s mouth as his chin dropped to watch the show. Henley’s nose brushed Kieran’s skin as he swallowed Kieran’s dick. Kieran gripped the arms of the chair, holding on for dear life as Henley destroyed his senses. Henley hollowed out his cheeks. Kieran threw his head back and gasped for air. Henley massaged his balls as if trying to coax the cum out before Kieran was ready. He teased Kieran’s slit with his tongue. A moan filled the room. Kieran didn’t have enough brainpower left to know if it was his. All he could do was hold on and fuck Henley’s mouth. Henley was large and powerful. He spent a majority of the year beating up men on the ice. Kieran’s husband was aggressive and full-impact. He loved Kieran with the same passion—full-on, no holding back, and with an intensity most people couldn’t handle. Kieran wasn’t most people. He was dark. His needs were twisted. Henley was fucking perfect—like his mind and body had been molded to fit Kieran’s.

  A shout clogged Kieran’s throat as Henley squeezed his cock and sucked—hard. He mindlessly reached for Henley’s hair, pulling with enough force he was surprised he didn’t yank it out as he held Henley in place. Kieran fucked the man’s throat, ruthlessly pounding and taking his pleasure. Pressure climbed Kieran’s dick before exploding into a rush of euphoria. He gasped for air as wave after wave pulsed through him. Henley kept sucking, swallowing, and licking. Aftershocks rocked him. Once he’d licked Kieran clean, Henley kissed a path up Kieran’s body. Kieran turned his head, catching sight of Cal. Cum coated the man’s stomach. Kieran wondered if he’d ever touched himself or if he’d found release by watching alone.

  Chapter Three

  Moss hung from the trees, darkening the bright day. Cal traveled the winding back road and considered every aspect of his new task. He didn’t think there’d be a huge problem with anyone sneaking into Mara King’s home. Hell, he hoped he could find the place. It was a smart move on her part, living way the fuck out in no-man's-land on the edge of Jean Lafitte Preserve, surrounded by swamp. Cal wouldn’t have to kill anyone dumb enough to come looking for Miss King. The wildlife would.

  The three-story house came into view. It was gated. Cal used the security code Mara had given him on the phone to get inside. After following the driveway around to the back, as instructed, Cal parked beside a red Mercedes and headed for the door. Cal rang the bell and waited. He’d never been one to fidget. He didn’t today.

  When the door opened, Cal had to drop his gaze to focus on the small man who answered. He was probably no more than five-eight. The guy definitely didn’t weigh more than one-thirty, a fact he accentuated by wearing a tight button-down shirt and skinny jeans. He also wore the shiniest shoes Cal had ever seen. The guy had dark hair, but that was all Cal could tell since he never looked up from his phone.

  “Good. You’re on time. I’m Michael, Mara’s PA and handler. It’s not Mike, Mick, or Mikey. It’s Michael. I’m not nice and I don’t care if you are. Mara pays me enough to put up with anything. With that said, Mara is awesome and I love her. If you let her get hurt, I know people who can and will break your kneecaps. Head up the stairs and do
wn the hall to the third open door on the left. That’s where you’ll find Mara. Welcome aboard, Mr. Walsh.”

  With his high-speed welcome speech out of the way, Michael walked away with his eyes still glued to his smartphone.

  Cal watched the small hipster walk away. He wasn’t insulted, and oddly—as rude as their no-eye-contact introduction had been—Cal didn’t feel slighted. More than anything, he hoped he hadn’t made a mistake by accepting this job. It was temporary, he reminded himself. Miss King only needed someone to keep her within the legal bounds of her contract. Cal climbed the stairs. He already knew he could survive hell. This was just a slice out of time—as all days were.

  At the top of the stairs, Cal counted the open doors as he passed. Not that he needed to. A loud female voice, singing so badly off-key he wondered if it was purposely done, poured out an open doorway. Cal’s gaze wouldn’t budge from that space as he moved toward the room. Absently, he noted the dark wooden floors were gorgeous and done in such a way they looked older than they were. Otherwise, nothing penetrated his curiosity over the bright singing. His feet crossed the threshold and froze.

  He’d known who Mara King was, of course. Everyone knew her. Cal had been unprepared for the real, unguarded version of her. In a white silk nightgown that barely covered her ass, Mara looked as if she’d just stepped from the shower. Her skin looked wet to the touch and the ends of her hair dripped onto her gown. She looked unprepared for company. He debated what to do. She obviously wasn’t ready to receive him.

  “Are you on time?” Mara asked without looking his way, as if she’d known he was there all along. “I can’t remember what time I told you to be here,” she added with a laugh. She glanced up. Her dark eyes sparkled with mischief and kindness. He’d done the right thing by accepting this assignment.