Chains and Canes (33 page)

His voice held firm—a small miracle—yet his body shook from knees to neck. His arm was sore from his tussle with Daniel, so he let himself half collapse onto Naya.

She took his weight like she was born to the task. “My Sir and
mi cielo
.”

Daniel curled along Remy’s back, still touching and kneading away the tension. No one on the outside. “My angels.”

“Kiss me.” Remy framed Naya’s face. “Kiss me,” he said again, but he didn’t give her a chance to obey.

He took her mouth. He pressed along her and Daniel pressed along him in turn. They were symbiosis in the flesh.

Remy’s cock hardened, as if in protest against the heavy emotion. But no—it was affirmation. He’d nearly lost everything, but it wasn’t too late. Nothing was too late when he had his Naya and Daniel. He needed to
feel
that acceptance because it was going to take time for his heart to truly believe. He only wanted the chance for that to happen.

“Open your legs, Naya girl.”

She did so with the same languorous sensuality she brought to her dancing, but this was for him and for Daniel. Their beautiful girl. Daniel pressed a condom into Remy’s hand before he even thought to ask for it. A service sub who could anticipate requests. There would be plenty of time to explore that later—because there would be plenty of laters.

Remy slipped into Naya. She was soaked and swollen. Waiting for him. She’d flown high tonight and had been jerked around so abruptly, but she revived beneath his body. Such a mind-blowing woman. Her moan was a balm, easing his hurts and healing the rift he’d torn between them. He tilted her hips up so he could drive deeper and was rewarded with a stream of Spanish.

Naya wasn’t his only gift. He felt Daniel’s fingers at his back passage, delving between his cheeks. Those insistent fingertips were slick with lube. Remy dropped his head to the pillow beside Naya’s head. “Ready for this, Daniel?”

“We want you here.” Daniel’s chuckle sounded strained. He breached Remy’s tight passage with one long finger. “If that means I have to pin you down to keep you, that’s what I’ll do.”

Remy answered with a harsh, aroused laugh, but he couldn’t hold back the truth from his precious ones. “It’s been a long time.”

Naya lifted her knees to his hips, holding him more securely. “How long?”

He swallowed a tight knot in his throat. “Near on nine years.”

“When you were eighteen and new to town.”

He nodded. The words were coming a little more easily now. “I’ve given since, but I haven’t been taken. That’s how I needed it to be. But, Daniel… I want you. I want to be yours how you’ve been mine.”

Daniel dropped open-mouthed kisses along Remy’s spine. He kept up the subtle rhythm of his finger, matching the slow, almost graceful way Remy stroked into Naya’s slick channel. “Thank you, Sir. I’ll make it good.”

“You will.”

“More orders,” Daniel said with an audible smile.

The latex-covered head of his cock bumped Remy’s asshole. Then slowly sank deep.

It burned, but in the best way. The burn nearly reminded Remy of worse things, of worse times, but Naya held his face and wouldn’t let him look away. Her eyes took him to the beautiful place where she used to venture alone. This wasn’t fucking. They were making love. All three of them. Sweet. Adoring. Amazing.

They thrust in point and counterpoint. The rhythm matched pace with Remy’s heartbeat and threatened to make him…exultant. Except that wasn’t a threat. It was something to embrace. To chase. To share.

Even their orgasms were a chain reaction, just like their love, chasing in circles of pleasure that didn’t end. Naya stiffened and cried out, followed by Daniel’s long, grinding thrust. Remy saved himself for last, because he’d been holding out, waiting for their release, memorizing that beautiful moment.

It was the first moment of the rest of his life.

Epilogue

Second only to the arts community, Daniel’s favorite thing about living in New York was the variety of takeout. He stood at the kitchen counter sorting through a stack of menus. He pulled the menus out of their customary drawer when he, Naya and Remy worked ridiculously late hours. Then even picking up the phone seemed like too much work.

If Daniel were on his own, he’d pull a beer from the fridge and throw himself down on the couch. But if he didn’t make sure they ate, Naya and Remy would waste away. Sometimes half his job was to force-feed healthy calories into a pair of hummingbirds.

The front door squealed open.

After settling into the new house, Daniel had sold the Central Park condo. He’d found this building fast enough, tucked in the heart of Chelsea. His real estate agent said it had once been a turn-of-the-century factory specializing in shirt-points that held down gentlemen’s collars. Renovating it had taken months and enough money to give Remy a case of the growls once a week. That was no deterrent.

Now they lived where their professional and personal lives blended seamlessly. The ground floor was devoted to practice areas for Transit and served as the public face of their enterprises. One story up contained their offices, meaning Daniel could spend less time in an anonymous Midtown skyscraper. The top floor housed their personal quarters, which was enclosed by a fifteen-foot steel door on rollers. They’d all admired the industrial vibe and had designed the decor around that nod to the building’s origins.

By choice, they lived more simply. Naya had folded into his penthouse world because she had that sort of amiable spirit. She was happy wherever she went, so long as she was surrounded by people who cared for her. Yet they’d known Remy would never be comfortable there. This… This was the culmination of three visions, uniting in a place of comfort and safe contentment.

Naya walked in and dropped onto the giant sectional that divided the kitchen from the living area. “If that
pendejo
doesn’t learn the steps by tomorrow, I’m done. He’s out.”

“You’re so full of shit.” Remy rolled the front door shut before heading to the kitchen. “Jack isn’t going anywhere.”

“He’s being his fucked-up self again. I like when he quits pretending he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

“You’ve got a soft spot for him. Admit it.”

“Yours is softer. Maybe I should make out with him a few times to gain your unique perspective.”

“And hello to you too,” Daniel said dryly, handing Remy a mineral water.

“It’s been a long, long day.” Deep shadows shaped Remy’s lower lids. He curled one hand around Daniel’s skull. The kiss he took was brief, with more tenderness than Daniel had once thought possible from the man. “Hello, Daniel.”

Naya pushed up from the couch and circled the island. She rose on tiptoes and kissed Daniel too. He wrapped his hand in her hair, though tenderly. Anything meaner was Remy’s purview. They smelled of sweat, some kind of muscle balm and deodorant. Not sexy. Showers would definitely be required ASAP. But for the moment, Daniel was so damn happy.

“Hello, evening husband,” she said against his mouth.

Remy made a sour face. “I told you that’s not funny.”

Daniel stole one more kiss from each of them. “I don’t mind. You’re
my
evening husband, after all.”

She’d started teasing that because she worked with Remy during business hours, he was her daytime husband. Coming home to Daniel made him her evening husband. But it was just that: teasing.

Since dedicating themselves to protecting three hearts, Daniel and Naya had officially called off their engagement. To the rest of the world, they were lovers now. Maybe they believed the worst, that Daniel was her sugar daddy and that Transit was nothing but a pet project.

The outside world didn’t mean jack.

Instead, they’d traveled to the south of France. They’d chosen a place none of them had ever been. Fresh and new. The perfect place for a commitment ceremony. Standing at the top of a cliff that overlooked Mediterranean waters, they’d pledged themselves to a triad built of love, trust and interwoven needs. Three people. Three hearts. Three rings exchanged with private reverence that would last the rest of their lives.

Daniel had never been moved to tears before that moment, when his happiness had been too strong to contain. Naya’s tears hadn’t been a surprise, although he appreciated them nonetheless. She’d smiled with her usual open, blissful exuberance, as if everything had been a given from the start—although her heart had held just as many doubts. And Remy… Their Sir hadn’t looked away when he, too, was overcome with emotion. Protected and included as an equal in their union, he had no more reason to hide.

Daniel had rented a villa for a long overdue vacation—
long
overdue after the months of work that had gone into Transit’s stunning public debut. This time, the theater Daniel had suggested for their showcase had been the perfect choice. None of his promotional acumen had gone to waste. Transit had filled the storied theater to capacity, performing for a sold-out crowd of sixteen hundred dance-crazy fans and very interested agents, scouts and casting directors.

Remy and Naya had sucked up the energy like the tiny nuclear stars they were—stars held steady by Daniel’s love. Aside from exchanging vows and the long journey to reach that moment of commitment, that night had been one of the proudest of his life.

He waved his handful of fliers. “I was going to order takeout.”

Remy cracked the seal on his mineral water. “I want the Cuban place.”

Naya rolled her eyes and hopped onto the polished stainless-steel counter. “You always want that one.”

“They have good
bistec a la Havana
.” Remy pointed at the menu with the green bottle. “Tasty stuff.”

“Steak. That’s all it is. They have good steak, which you can order from absolutely anywhere.”

“Yeah, but it’s steak
a la Havana
. That makes it special.”

Naya giggled as Daniel shoved the other menus into the drawer next to the sink. “Leave him alone, angel. Sometimes a man needs meat.” And Daniel had to admit he had a special soft spot in his heart for spoiling Remy. “You want the vegetable paella?”

Obviously exhausted, Naya smiled and leaned her head against the upper cabinets. “Nah, steak for me too. I need the protein.”

“You should have seen her working over this skinny noob from Ohio.” Remy leaned shoulder to shoulder with Daniel—leaning when once he would’ve hidden his fatigue and stood a step apart. “He woulda crawled after her on all fours by the time she was done with him.”

“Too bad that does nothing for her,” Daniel said with a laugh.

Remy purred his inarticulate appreciation. “We know what our Naya girl likes.”

“You, Sir,” she answered without any sort of guile.

“They’re not picking up.” Daniel tossed the phone to the counter, but he wasn’t frustrated. “Something else seems to have caught my attention.”

All it took was that one word, that one name.
Sir.

Remy breathed in. The fatigue fled from his face. His shoulders lifted, making him seem even stronger and more intimidating. “Screw Cuban food. We’ve got a frozen pizza,
oui
?”

“I picked one up last time I went shopping.” Naya looked from Daniel to Remy, her dark eyes widening with anticipation.

Daniel cleared his throat, with his fist pressed tightly against his lips. “Well, I guess that’s dinner settled.”

“Yup.” Remy gripped the muscles between Daniel’s throat and shoulders. He pinched hard. “Pick her up.”

“Having me do your dirty work, Sir?”

“I’ve been lifting her all day. Your turn, evening husband.”

Still pinching, Remy shoved him toward the woman they shared. Daniel scooped Naya into his arms. Forget food. Forget showers. Everything else could wait.

She held on tight. “Bring something to drink, Sir? I’m going to want some.”

Reaching into the fridge, he grabbed a liter bottle of water. “You’ll need this by the time I’m done with you.”

Naya shivered. She grinned at Daniel, and he soaked up the look intended for him alone. Business meant he still traveled extensively. She and Remy included him as often as schedules permitted, but the bond they’d formed during his absences was a comfort now. They wouldn’t ever be alone when he was gone, and they welcomed him home with so much enthusiasm and attention, his former jealousy was an incomprehensible echo of a long-gone life.

He shared a unique connection with Remy too. Their alone time wasn’t as frequent, limited mostly to the weekends Naya spent with her family in Brooklyn. Perhaps he treasured those days and nights the most, when their still-competitive pride and egos dropped away, when Daniel slept curled around the man he adored—the only man he would ever love.

But he and Naya still maintained an unshakable connection, born of their long history and their shared roles. Their master had come into his own. The private smiles they shared as Daniel carried her through the living room were forged of happy anticipation.

Remy opened the French doors that led to the rest of the living space. As far as random visitors knew, Daniel and Naya shared a bedroom and Remy slept in his own, with a library and sitting room separating the two. Pocket doors kept the spaces nominally private, but more often than not, they slept tangled in that wrought-iron king-sized.

Daniel deposited her on the pale yellow quilt, then took a kiss. She tasted like sweetness—maybe something she’d been drinking. Probably Gatorade. Remy nagged nearly as well as Daniel.

Remy looped his arms through Daniel’s, like a wrestling hold, and pulled him away. “Did I give you permission to kiss her?”

“No, Sir.” He grinned at Naya as she licked her bottom lip.

“There will be a punishment for that.”

Grins turned into flat-out laughter, with Remy’s mouth pressed against Daniel’s neck. Until he ramped up into full-on Dom mode, he’d become unable to resist the joy they shared.

“Good,” Naya said once she’d stopped laughing. “We love your punishments.”

Daniel leaned his head back with enough leeway to kiss Remy’s jaw. “We love you, Sir. Period.”

Remy turned him in his arms, his hands suddenly, surprisingly indulgent. The emotion that filled his eyes was pure and shining. “I love you too,” he said roughly. “Both of you, so much.”