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The room was filled with the sounds of their grunts and curses. Scarlet remained beside them, watching as she ran her hands all over both of them, their skin becoming slick with sweat from their exertions. She slid her hand under Roman, down between his legs to fondle his dick. Roman’s breath caught, but he didn’t say anything.

  Tate continued the relentless thrusting of his cock, and she got to feel as Roman’s dick twitched in time with Tate’s rhythm.

  They both jerked when she reached between them with her other hand, her fingers exploring the place where they were joined. She placed one finger along either side of Tate’s cock, her fingers pressed to the tight, stretched skin of Roman’s ass.

  “Fuck, Scarlet,” Tate said, his eyes locked on her hand, his breathlessness telling her he was close to coming.

  “Come, Tate,” Roman said, not bothering to make the words anything less than a command. “Come inside me and then I’m going to fuck our beautiful fiancée.”

  Roman hadn’t finished speaking before Tate slammed inside him once, twice, three times more, his face contorted in bliss as his climax crashed over him.

  Tate remained frozen inside Roman’s ass for no more than a half dozen heartbeats before taking a step away from the bed, withdrawing.

  Roman wasted no time dragging Scarlet beneath him once more. Her private peep show had ensured she was aroused, ready, as Roman shoved to the hilt in one thrust.

  “Roman,” she cried. “God, yes.”

  He fucked her like a man possessed, heedless as Scarlet’s nails scored his back in her need for something to hold on to.

  Her body began to quiver, her orgasm hovering right there...just at the edge.

  Tate returned from the bathroom and decided to give her a taste of her own medicine, his hand slipping between her and Roman, stroking her clit.

  Her back arched as electricity coursed through her body, sparked along her spine. Being struck by lightning wouldn’t have felt as powerful, as potent.

  Roman came with her, her name sounding like a prayer on his lips.

  Oh yeah. She could do a lifetime of this.

  When Roman pulled out, he fell to the side, the two of them shifting over to make room for Tate. They lay together for several minutes, none of them speaking as they worked to catch their breath.

  Scarlet grinned as Roman reached for her hand, holding it in his, while Tate rolled to his side, throwing his muscular arm over her and Roman.

  “I know we haven’t known each other long, but I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with both of you,” Tate confessed.

  “We have the rest of our lives to fall in love,” Scarlet said. “I want it to be slow. I want to fall in love with both of you bit by bit.” She smiled, eyes half closed. “But I think I’ll probably be stupidly in love with you by the time we get back to Boston for our binding ceremony.”

  “I’m already there,” Roman said. “You both had me at ‘Baby Shark’.”

  The three of them laughed.

  “So what now?” Roman asked. “Nap? Dinner? Walk by the water?”

  Scarlet glanced toward the door to the en suite. “I vote we break in the Jacuzzi.”

  Tate, who hadn’t stirred during Roman’s suggestions, rose the second she said Jacuzzi. “I’ll run the water.”

  Thirty minutes later, Scarlet leaned back against Roman’s chest, sinking deeper into the hot water and bubbles in the Jacuzzi. Tate sat facing them across the large tub, lightly stroking the side of her thigh with one of his feet.

  “I may never leave here,” Scarlet murmured as Roman’s hands wrapped around her so that he could cup her breasts in his palms.

  “The Jacuzzi or Nantucket?” Tate asked, without lifting his head to look at them. He was sprawled out in a pose of complete relaxation, his head resting against the tub, his eyes closed, his expression one of pure bliss.

  “Both? Actually…” Scarlet reconsidered. “I’ve changed my mind. Because it doesn’t matter where I am as long as I’m with the two of you.”

  Roman drew her hair around one shoulder, baring her neck so that he could kiss it. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “But that still leaves me with a pretty big dilemma,” Scarlet said.

  Tate lifted his head and glanced at her. “It does?”

  “I can’t decide which list to make first.” She shifted to the side so she could see both of them. “The sex positions list or the list where we combine our three lives into one. Because we have to figure out jobs, living arrangements, which city we’re going to settle down in, who is marrying who legally, and what our cover story is to the world at large, how many kids we want, stainless or black appliances in the kitchen.” Scarlet kept her expression serious.

  Well, she tried.

  She could feel her lips twitching with a smile as she secretly relished the somewhat horrified, shell-shocked looks on their faces. She paused briefly, feigning concern. “What’s wrong? Did I miss a list? It might be a bit early to start making lists of baby names, but given that Roman’s family seems to have a mythological naming convention, maybe we should start now.”

  “I’ve just seen my future,” Tate said. “And I’m pretty sure it involves a lot of shifting furniture three inches to the left...and back again.”

  “Or rehanging picture frames,” Roman added.

  “First of all, if you place the couch precisely where it should be, according to the diagram, you won’t have to. Also, I won’t hang any pictures until I’m certain where I want them. What you’ll have to do is double-check your level marks. Measure twice, drill once.” She frowned in mock consideration. “Maybe we should make a list of what each of you is good at so I know how to allocate manpower.”

  Roman put his hand over his eyes.

  “I’m just a simple henchman,” Tate moaned dramatically. “And...grad student.” He raised his head. “Uh, I’m stuck in Boston for at least two more years.”

  Scarlet gave up and laughed.

  “I know you were teasing.” Roman lifted his head. “But I also expect that you will make most of those lists.”

  She probably would. “Can we just agree I get to be in charge of life planning and logistics?”

  “Keep looking sexy like that and I’ll…” Tate glanced at Roman, who nodded. “We’ll...agree to anything.”

  Yep. She was going to be all the way in love with them by the time they made it back to Boston.

  Epilogue

  Two Days Earlier, Boston

  * * *

  The wedding was beautiful. Tate stood beside Scarlet at the back of the room. She wore a black pantsuit, her headset firmly in place. Her suit jacket had deep pockets, which—like Mary Poppins’ bag—seemed to contain everything anyone could possibly need. She’d pulled out a lint brush to lift a speck of something from the father of the bride’s shoulder. She’d produced a pack of Kleenex when someone started sniffling.

  Tate was at the wedding as security, which was why he was at the back with her, though he’d made sure to greet and talk to a very nervous-looking Luca when he walked in with Oscar, who looked so damned relieved. They’d had their real binding ceremony with the Grand Master, so they now knew they were in a trinity, and this wedding…this was a first of its kind celebration.

  Andre was the other person on security detail, stationed in the hall, which he’d bitched about until Scarlet promised to make sure the tray-passed hors d’oeuvres came his way.

  Roman was seated between his aunt and uncles—Selene’s parents—and Selene’s sister, Theia. She was the one who’d started sniffling.

  The setup he and Roman had helped with now made sense. Selene, resplendent in a pale champagne-colored dress with gold and ivory lace, holding a bouquet of hydrangeas wrapped in gold ribbon had walked down the aisle to her husbands.

  Now the trinity stood before the wall of stacked blocks, which were lit from within in pale blues, golds, and icy white. A semi-opaque overlay of the triquetra muted some of the light and created a beautiful backdrop.
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br />   Sebastian performed the edited binding ceremony. They had just done the real one in the medallion room of the Trinity Masters headquarters with the Grand Master who, for obvious reasons, wasn’t at this ceremony.

  Usually, the newly-formed trinity spent the month after their binding ceremony getting to know one another and planning their lives together, before returning for the formal trinity marriage ceremony.

  Oscar, Selene, and Luca knew one another, and they didn’t need time to decide what they were going to do. They’d been willing to risk everything. To spend their life on the run for a chance to be together.

  That was love.

  Tate looked around, reminding himself that he wasn’t just a guest, he did have a job to do.

  It was a small guest list. Selene’s immediate family, plus Roman. Sebastian, as the officiant and his spouses, Grant and Elle, were in attendance. Franco was also there, sitting in the front with his spouses, Devon and Juliette. Oscar’s brother, Langston, his husband, Rich, and wife, Mina, had flown in from Texas.

  The handful of other guests all clearly knew the bride and grooms, though Tate didn’t know their exact relation to the trinity. Andre had handled the threat assessment analysis, using information provided by Franco. Owen Frasier, Jennika Davis, Rhys Fletcher, and Ridley Phillios took up a row, each of them elegant and dangerous looking. Tate would have bet his left nut that at least one of them was CIA. They gave off CIA vibes.

  The final guest arrived ten minutes late. And the idiot brought a plus one.

  Tate knew something was up when Scarlet’s head tipped to the side, and she glanced away from the ceremony, clearly listening to something coming through the headset.

  Tate pressed his own ear, and a second later, Andre spoke through the comm. “The missing triplet is here with a guest. Guest is not on the list.”

  Tate looked at Scarlet, and then, as discreetly as possible, they slid to the back of the room. Black pipe and drape acted as a light and sound break, so when they slipped through the curtain and opened the door, the lights from the hall didn’t disturb the ceremony.

  Andre stood squarely in front of the door, blocking the way of two men in tuxes.

  “How late am I?” Walt was easy to identify. He looked exactly like Langston and Oscar.

  “Who is this with you?” Scarlet said with a deceptively easy smile.

  “This is...my friend.” Walt fiddled with his bowtie. He looked good in New Year’s Eve formalwear. “Can we go in?”

  The man beside him was huge, blond, and grinning happily, though his eyes were cold, a little hard. He would have bet his right nut the man was dangerous. “I love weddings.”

  Scarlet hesitated, but when Walt said, “Please, I don’t want to miss any more of my brother’s wedding,” she nodded and carefully opened the door.

  “Ma’am…” Andre looked pained.

  Scarlet spoke into her headset, instructing Rhea to adjust the table settings accordingly, while Tate and Andre exchanged a look. Then she opened the door, carefully holding the bar so it wouldn’t make noise. Tate followed Walt and the stranger into the room. He’d keep an eye on this guy.

  Walt slid into a seat beside his brother, while the stranger opted to stand behind the last row of chairs. Tate stood just behind him.

  When the ceremony was over, Scarlet and Rhea dramatically opened the wall, revealing the rest of the ballroom. Small tables, set for parties of three or four, ringed the dance floor. The room was lit by candlelight and pale gold up lights. Everything was deep blue, gold, silver, and white. It was elegant and festive, and all the guests oohed and aahed appreciatively as they rose and moved into the reception area. Tate turned, but the stranger had slipped out while everyone else was finding their seat. Tate checked in with Andre, and the man was in the bathroom.

  There was a lull as the hotel wait staff served the mixologist-created aperitifs to the guests. Tate put his arm around Scarlet and kissed her temple. Roman wandered over, smiling at them. “I was worried I was going to have to risk your wrath by changing tables, but…” Roman gestured to a small table not far from where they stood. It was in the corner, somewhat out of the way.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Scarlet said softly. “Originally you were sitting with Theia and Rhys Fletcher but...I’m selfish. I wanted you two to myself.”

  Tate craned his neck enough to see that the gold seating placard had their names on it. Himself, Roman, and Scarlet.

  “I would have moved to sit with you if you hadn’t,” Roman assured her.

  Roman and Tate sat—he could still see the room well enough—while Scarlet did a round to check on everything.

  She came back as the first course was being brought out and took a minute to sit. Roman poured her a glass of champagne from the bottle waiting in ice on their table, and they shared a private, silent toast of congratulations.

  A man cleared his throat, drawing their attention. Franco and his wife had walked up. Franco was smiling at them. As a Warrior Scholar, Tate knew Franco well enough to grin back as he stood, while Scarlet and Roman had more restrained, polite greetings, as befitting a conversation with one of the Grand Master’s counselors. Clearly they didn’t know Franco. The man was incredibly intelligent, dangerous in a way no amount of planning could account for, and completely irreverent.

  His wife was at his side, smiling politely. Tate had met Juliette once at a dinner party hosted at Harrison Adams’ house. Juliette was Harrison’s sister in addition to Franco’s wife. She seemed a bit reserved, in that way he associated with wealthy Northeasterners, and quiet. She didn’t talk much and always deferred to her husbands.

  “This is a great party,” Franco said. “Well done. All three of you. You made this look easy.”

  Tate, Scarlet, and Roman shared a look. Roman raised his drink to hide his smile as Scarlet murmured a thank you. Tate practiced having no expression. He also was not going to start singing “Baby Shark.”

  Damn it. Now he had it in his head. The lovely classical music playing in the background was no match for that damn song.

  His gaze slid to Scarlet. They hadn’t talked about where they’d be spending the night tonight—technically they all had their own hotel rooms—but Tate was not going to be sleeping alone.

  “You three are—” Whatever Franco was going to say was cut off when Walt’s guest appeared in the open doorway. Tate knew he was coming, thanks to Andre, and had already turned so he could keep his eyes on the stranger, a move that drew the others’ attention and meant everyone in their little group was looking that way when the man walked in.

  Franco’s eyes went wide, and his mouth was open, the rest of the sentence unsaid.

  At his side, Juliette, wearing a glittering black sheath dress, her long blonde hair pinned up in a chignon, went so still, that for a moment, she seemed to have stopped breathing.

  Tate stiffened, his sense that the man was dangerous reinforced by Franco and Juliette’s body language. This stranger was clearly someone they knew, and someone who they saw as either dangerous, unexpected, or both.

  The blond man looked at Franco and Juliette. He smiled, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. And when he greeted them, it wasn’t Franco he spoke to.

  But Juliette.

  “Hi, Juliette. Great party.”

  Juliette took a single deep breath, staring down the man. When she spoke, the name was a warning and an accusation, all rolled into one. “Eric.”

  * * *

  Are you looking forward to Walt’s story? You can preorder Wrath’s Storm now.

  * * *

  See where it all began! Be sure to read the entire Trinity Masters series.

  Elemental Pleasure

  Primal Passion

  Scorching Desire

  Forbidden Legacy

  Hidden Devotion

  Elegant Seduction

  Secret Scandal

  Delicate Ties

  Beloved Sacrifice

  Masterful Truth

&nb
sp; Fiery Surrender

  Necessary Pursuit

  * * *

  And if you’re interested in reading more about Erik, Sophia, and Milo, be sure to check out the Masters’ Admiralty series as well.

  Treachery’s Devotion

  Loyalty’s Betrayal

  Pleasure’s Fury

  Honor’s Revenge

  Bravery’s Sin

  * * *

  Join the society! Hey fans of Facebook! Did you know there’s a Trinity Masters/Masters’ Admiralty fan group? Come join the fun—behind the scenes news, exclusive sneak peeks, cover reveals and (gasp) too many screenshots of texts between Mari and Lila.

  About the Author

  Virginia native Mari Carr is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestseller of contemporary sexy romance novels. With over one million copies of her books sold, Mari was the winner of the Romance Writers of America’s Passionate Plume for her novella, Erotic Research.

  Join her newsletter so you don’t miss new releases and for exclusive subscriber-only content. Find Mari on the web on Facebook | Twitter | BookBub | Email: [email protected].

  * * *

  Lila Dubois is a top selling author of contemporary erotic romance. Having spent extensive time in France, Egypt, Turkey, England and Ireland Lila speaks five languages, none of them (including English) fluently. She now lives in Los Angeles with a cute Irishman.

  You can visit Lila's website at www.liladubois.net. She loves to hear from fans! Send an email to [email protected] or join her newsletter.