Elemental Pleasure (2 page)

As she turned right
,
she wondered if that wa
s where she was going—to a private dressing room. Now that she had been called to the altar by the Grand Master, she supposed she’d earned a private dressing room.

After all, she was about to meet her husbands.

Or maybe it would be husband and wife.

Her hands shook, and it took her a few tries to get the key into the lock on
R
oom C. Once in
,
she found a small, but
well-appointed room. A white robe waited on a hook. Normally they wore gray.

Setting her purse on the vanity
,
she touched the robe. “It’s like a wedding dress,” she whispered
to herself
.

It would be the only wedding dress she’d ever wear.

In exchange for the Trinity Masters’ help, she’d given up her future, specifically her choice of whom she would marry.

Throughout history
,
the world had been secretly controlled by relationships that defied societal standards. Some of those relationships had come to light, the most famous of which had been Vice-Admiral Horatio Lord Nelson, who’d been in a relationship with Lady Emma Hamilton and Sir William Hamilton. The gossip papers of the nineteenth century had called it an affair between Lady Emma and Lord Nelson, but it had been so much more. The three-way union between them
had helped end the Napoleonic W
ars, and both Emma and William had mourned Lord Nelson after his death.

The Trinity Masters believed that when three people were united
,
it created a bond far stronger than the pedestrian two-person marria
ge, and that these triads—if
made between
those with power and intellect—had the capability to change
the world.

Carly
slid out of her clothes, leaving on the corset-bra, panties and garter set she’d bought especially for today.
She closed her eyes, trying to still her nerves.

She’d joined the Trin
ity Masters at
nineteen, when the idea of some crazy secret
ménage
mar
riage had seemed exciting, elicit
. In her twenties
,
she
’d enjoyed herself, knowing
there was no need for her to worry about falling in love or getting married. By the time she was twenty-eight and her friends were married, some expecting children, she finally understood what she’d really given up
in her quest for success
.

However, the consequences of crossing the Trinity Masters were too dire to contemplate, and so here she was, waiting to meet the people she’d share the rest of her life with.
That thought sent another shard of panic through her before she beat it down.

She checked her hair
and makeup in the mirror, then raised the hood and tugged
the chain out from under the robe so it lay on her chest in plain sight, the triangle glinting in the low light.
Carly
had never shirked from a challenge…or a commitment. She wouldn’t begin now.

Taking a seat on a velvet chair, she breathed deeply, trying to calm herself.

A bell rang, the deep sound vibrating through her. She looked up as a door in the wall opposite where she sat opened.

Rising to her
feet, Carly
threw back her shoulders, lifted her head and
walked through.

*****

Preston Kim stretched,
and then
slowly sat up as the bell rang. He w
as in one of the Trinity Master
s
’
private dressing rooms. It wasn’t the first time he’d merited the honor of one of the private rooms, but it was the most important.

Preston smiled and rose to his feet. He pulled the black hood over his head, hiding his dark hair and eyes.

It felt like Christmas morning. Anticipation hummed through him, and yet he didn’t want to rush. He wanted to savor it, wanted t
o remember every detail so
one day
he
’d
be able t
o tell his children how D
ad
met Mom and Mom, or Mom and other Dad.

The same way his parents had told him.

Preston was a legacy to the Trinity Masters. His parents—Dad and both Moms—were members. His biological mother had married his father in a traditional ceremony several years after the three had been married by the Grand Master.
All three parents raised him and his sister
. He’d grown up knowing he was the child
of something special, powerful
and secret. His dad, m
other
and Imo—the name he and his sister used for their other mother, which was a bastardization for the Korean word for aunt—were now all immensely powerful in the world of education. They’d been joined
together by the Trinity Masters
at a time in their lives when it seemed they had nothing in common—an electrical engineer, a junior political aide and a mathematician. Many years and two children later, his father, the engineer, and Imo, the mathematician, owned an educational company that developed much of the tech
nology and curriculum used by
the country’s leading science magnet schools. His biological mother was a lobbyist, who worked to keep the money flowing to education no matter what happened to the national budget.

And now it was Preston’s turn to meet his partners.

The call from the Grand Master had been both welcom
e
and poorly timed. Though he’d been waiting for years to be called to the altar, his company was having financial trouble, with lower profits than projected in the last quarter. He’d walked away from a
lengthy financial report—
far from his favorite reading material—to fly to Boston. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to put work concerns away. Today was too important.

The door opened and he stepped through.

The r
oom on the other side was intimate, unlike
the massive gathering room with its stone altar. The floor and walls were marble. Three high-backed wing chairs sat in a semi-circle, facing a large metal medallion in the center of the floor. A rectangle of lighter colored stone led him to the chair farthest to the right. A soft sound made him look
to his
left, and he saw two other robed figures, one in black and one in white, emerging. Turning his attention to the center, he followed the path in the floor and took a seat in his chair. There was the rustle of fabric and the pad o
f feet as the other
s took their places. In the shadow of his hood, Preston grinned.

Light illuminated the bronze medallion with the Trinity Master
’
s symbol and logo, as well as the chairs, but the corners of the room were cast in darkness.
Less
than a minute
passed
before a patch of shadow detached from the wall and came forward to stand in the center of the medallion. He wore
a black robe trimmed in gold and a
heavy chain draped his shoulders.

The Grand Master.

Preston sucked in a breath. He’d been introduced
to the Grand Master as a child,
had
seen him at the galas and initiation events, and yet he still scared Preston. He knew, from hearing his parents’ whispered conversations, that if crossed, the Grand Master was ruthless. It was said that he’d not only ruined members who disobeyed their laws and ignored their vows, but had them imprisoned, sometimes even killed.

“Welcome.” The Grand Master’s voice was deep, commanding. His hood moved from side to side as he looked at each of them. Preston thought he caught a glimpse of a
nose or chin in the darkness of
the hood, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Grand Master,” he murmured in greeting. He heard the others do the same.

If the robe colors hadn’t given them away, the voices would have. There was one man and one woman. He felt a small moment of disappointment. Secretly he’d hoped for two women—he’d always thought his father’s life
seemed more than agreeable—but
growing up
as he
had made him more open-minded than most. He would accept th
e other man into his life—and into his bed—if
they were attracted to each other.

Preston had never been with another man, but there was a first time for everything.

“When you joined the Trinity Masters, you made a vow. You pledged your lives to our cause and our traditions. The time has come for you to meet your partners, your lovers, your spouses.”

The words rang, echoing off the walls. He thought he heard a small sound of distress from the woman, hidden in her virginal white robe.

“When I call your name, stand and remove your robe.”

Preston’s belly lurched. This was it.

*****

Lance Glassco’s fingers tightened on the arms of the chair. The wood groaned as his knuckles turned white.
He wanted to jump up
and pull down everyone’s hoods. He hated the secrecy, hated not knowing what was going on.

Hated not having control.

Joining the Trinity Masters had been a blessing
when he was younger
. Without them step
ping in at several key points during
his career, he would probably be dead, another fallen Marine in some desert. As it was, he was a proud United States Marine Corps Reserve Officer, and
a
mathematician for DARPA, the Defense Advanc
ed Research Projects Agency,
research a
nd development arm of the United
States Armed Forces.

Personal relationships weren’t his strong suit. He needed rules and guidelines, and relationships—or more accurately women—didn’t
come with either. Knowing
the Trinity Masters would someday step in and tell him
whom
to marry had relieved him of the burden of worrying about it.

It wasn’t until he’d gotten the l
etter from the Grand Master
he realized exactly how much control he’d given up. He had no say
about what was happening
right
now. H
e hadn’t even gotten
to pick if his partners would
be men or women.
Seeing another man in the circle left him feeling more than a little uneasy.

Since receiving his
letter, his frustration had grown to the point that he could now feel it boiling under his skin.

“When I call your name, stand and remove your robe.”

Lance froze, his shoulders cramping from the tension in his arms and back.

“Carlene Kenan.”

T
he figure in the white robe rose from her chair. Her hands were slim with painted nails.

He was glad at least one of them was a woman.

She threw back her hood and Lance jerked in his seat. She wa
s beautiful
with creamy pale skin and dark hair. Reaching back
,
she did something so
her hair fell down around her shoulders in pretty waves. He
wanted to bury his hands in those long tresses,
taste those pink lips. Her gaze met his, though he doubted she could see his f
ace under the hood. Then she looked at the other man before fac
ing at the Grand Master once more.

The Grand Master raised
a hand, and Lance
noticed he wore gray gloves. The Grand Master motioned to her, the twitch of his fingers impatient.

The woman…w
hat was her name? Carlene, that was it.

Her
fingers moved down the front of her robe, undoing the small hook and eye catches that held it closed. As she did, the robe fell apart a bit, giving him teasing glimpses of flesh.

When the robe was open, she grasped the edges. There w
as an expression on her face
Lance couldn’t read.

He sat forward, anxious to see what she hid under the enveloping mate
rial. Her gaze focused on him, as s
he raised her chin and dropped the robe.

Lance was sure he’d break the chair
,
he gripped it so hard.
She had long legs and full
breasts. She wore some lacy
corset
thing and a
tiny pair o
f panties covered her sex. G
arters held up dark stockings. Her face was beautiful in a way that made him think of the porcelain dolls his mother collected, but her body was lush and soft, made to be touched and stroked.

Lance sat back, his frustration gone, replaced by a need to have her.
He’d never felt an attraction this strong, this instantaneous.