Safe Harbor (13 page)

* * * *

Clarisse stared at him, grateful for the minimal shield the dark sunglasses offered. Mac was so sweet, how could she stand watching Sully beat him?

Realistically, how would she take care of herself?

Six months.
If she could tolerate years of Bryan’s verbal, mental, and emotional abuse, she could deal with six months of retreating to her room when the two men did whatever it was they did. It’s not like they’d be doing any of it to her.

Six months to get her shit together.

“Okay. Six months.”

He threw his arms around her and hugged her tightly to him. She wouldn’t deny
that
felt nice, comforting. More than a brother or friend.

Clarisse sat back, not wanting to follow that mental trail.

“Thank you, sweetie,” he said. “You won’t regret it. You’ll see, at

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the end of six months you’ll feel like part of the family. You won’t want to leave.

That’s what I’m afraid of.

* * * *

Sully closed his eyes and let his mind drift as the car drove him home from the airport. His leg hurt like a son of a bitch. He hadn’t taken his cane or his heavier pain meds with him, not needing either in months, but the weekend had been long and exhausting with a lot more time spent on his feet than expected.

He rubbed his hand over his left thigh, just above his knee, and tried to massage the ache. He couldn’t wait to get home, fall into bed, and let Mac work over his muscles with his talented hands.

He wondered how the weekend had gone for Clarisse. He hadn’t called, knowing with them out on the boat that Mac’s cell probably would be out of range anyway. If there’d been any emergencies, Mac would have used the satellite phone to call him, even from the water.

As his leg throbbed, he tried to distract himself with other thoughts. By the time the car dropped him at home a little after midnight, he felt nearly sick from the pain. He pulled himself up the stairs and left his bags inside the front door for Mac to take care of in the morning.

He rummaged through the kitchen cabinet for the bottle of OxyContin, relieved to see he still had eight left. He took one, swallowing it with a glass of water.

“Master?” Mac stood in the kitchen doorway, naked except for his collar. When he spotted the bottle of pain pills on the counter, his face turned worried. “Are you okay?”

Sully shook his head. “A lot of pain. Help me to bed, please.”

Mac swooped in, slipping his arm around Sully’s waist, draping Sully’s arm around his shoulders. He carefully helped him limp into their room and gently lowered him to their bed. He knelt in front of

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him and removed Sully’s shoes.

“How long have you been hurting?”

“I woke up this morning and limped into the shower, stood there until I could walk again. I’ve been eating Tylenol all day. I haven’t hurt this bad in months.”

“Lie down.”

Sully did. Mac helped him slide his slacks off, then retrieved a tube of ointment from the bathroom. He worked it into Sully’s left leg, his fingers knowing exactly what muscles to focus on, where to press, where to rub.

Sully grunted both in pain and relief as Mac’s attention, in combination with the drugs, started to relieve the worst of the pain.

“Is that helping, Master?”

Sully’s eyes closed. “Yeah. Don’t stop.”

Mac worked on his leg for nearly half an hour. Sully unbuttoned his shirt as he lay there with his eyes closed and tried to hold on until the pain diminished enough for him to move again.

“You need to take it easy this week, Master. Should I call the doctor?”

“No. He’ll want to put me back in physical therapy. I overdid it and didn’t take my cane. I’ve spent too much time sitting at my desk instead of working out.” He cracked open an eyelid. “How’s Clarisse?”

Mac’s hands hesitated for a moment. “She’s okay.”

He propped himself on his elbows despite the pain it caused.

“Slave.”

Mac sighed and related the conversation. Sully lowered himself to the bed, silently swearing. He hadn’t left Mac with any explicit instructions, hadn’t considered them necessary. He wouldn’t punish him for telling her the truth, but he suspected what little trust Clarisse had gained in him sailed overboard at the revelation.

“Master?”

“It’s okay. You did the right thing to tell her the truth.”

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“Why doesn’t it feel okay?”

“It’s okay.” Mac lifted Sully’s leg, helping him flex at the hip and knee. “That really helped, thank you.”

Mac helped him sit and remove his shirt. “Do you want the heating pad?”

“Might not be a bad idea.” The drugs started to take hold in his system. He hated using them, but under the circumstances, he’d make an exception.

Mac got him situated, propped himself with a few pillows to read, and tucked his body against Sully’s to hold Sully in a comfortable position. Sully knew Mac would stay up, waiting until after he’d fallen asleep so he could put away the heating pad to prevent him from getting burned.

As Sully drifted into sleep, he realized he’d forgotten to go through their usual greeting routine, the pain taking precedent. He drowsily reached back and patted Mac’s thigh. “Thank you, Brant.”

Mac kissed his forehead. “You’re always welcome, Master.”

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Sully awoke in pain early the next morning, but not as bad as he’d felt the night before. Mac was already out of bed, but had left the heating pad on the mattress where he could reach it. Sully grabbed it, turned it on, and wrapped it around his thigh.

Fucking leg.
Then again, he should consider himself lucky he still had a leg. The bullet had shattered it above the knee. He supposed some pain on occasion was a small price to pay.

But dammit, he hated paying it.

Mac walked in with his coffee, a glass of water, and a pain pill.

“You’ll want this, Master.” He handed him the water and the pill.

Sully nodded, no arguments. He needed to get on top of the pain sooner rather than later. He could spend the rest of the day on over-the-counter pain meds if he knocked the pain back now. After this kicked in, Mac would draw him a hot bath to soak in and work on his leg to loosen the muscles.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t go through our routine last night,” Sully apologized.

Mac smiled. “It’s okay, Master. No infractions.”

Sully realized Mac was naked. “Where’s your clothes?”

Mac blushed. “I think I should go ahead and let her see the way we really are. She promised me six months.”

Sully hurt too badly to argue. “I’ll overrule you if I think it’s necessary.”

“Yes, Master.”

Mac worked on Sully’s leg, then drew him a hot bath. Sully would soak in there for a while. After another round with Mac’s hands,

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maybe he could function. As Mac helped him ease into the hot water, Sully grabbed his lover’s hand. “Hey.” Sully tugged, drawing him closer.

Mac smiled, leaned in, and kissed him. “I missed you.”

“Missed you, too. Let’s see how I feel later and maybe take her out to dinner tonight.”

“Okay. Yell if you need me. Don’t you dare hurt yourself getting out.” Mac left the bathroom door partially open so he could hear if Sully called for him.

Sully closed his eyes. How had he lucked out? Their relationship wasn’t anything that had ever raised the blip of a possibility on his future radar. Dammit, he was grateful for Brant’s presence in his life.

Especially in times like this.

He settled back in the water, slowly flexing his leg to work some of the stiffness out of it.

* * * *

Clarisse smelled coffee and rolled over. Sully should be home, but she hadn’t heard anyone moving around or talking.

She could dash into the kitchen for her coffee and then retreat to her bedroom, hopefully avoid Sully until he locked himself in his office, but she knew that wouldn’t do her any good long term.

She had to face him and his whacked-out relationship with Mac sooner or later.

After pulling on her robe, she quietly opened her bedroom door.

The house was dark, but the over-counter lights were on in the kitchen. When she rounded the corner into the kitchen, the sight of Mac’s naked ass stopped her in her tracks. He must have heard her shocked “eep!” because he turned and offered her a smile before she could retreat.

“Good morning. You ready for breakfast?”

She stared, unable to take her eyes off his body. The gold nipple

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rings that she wanted to play with. The…

Holy crap,
he was well-hung.

He arched an eyebrow at her. “You all right?”

“Um…uh…yeah. Okay.”

He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Six months, sweetie. That’s what you promised. If it really bothers you, I’ll go put on shorts.”

“Um…yeah…I mean, no, it doesn’t bother me. I just wasn’t expecting…” What? What wasn’t she expecting? Mac in full slave mode?

He laughed and reached over for the mug she always used, poured her a cup of coffee, and offered it to her. “To see me naked?”

“Yeah.” She took the mug and held it in both hands, hoping he couldn’t see how they trembled. He was…
goddamn
, he looked gorgeous!

She forced her eyes up from his groin to his brown eyes. “Does Sully walk around naked too?” That could be a blessing and a curse.

If he was hung half as well as Mac…

Ohmigod.

They’re gay…they’re gay…they’re gay…

“No,” Mac said with a smile. “Not usually. Sometimes I make him do that on the boat. Otherwise, he’s usually dressed.” He pointed to the counter. “Go ahead, sit. I’ll make breakfast.”

There were far worse views than Mac’s firm and well-shaped ass as he stood at the stove and made French toast. “Is Sully eating with us?”

Mac shook his head. “I’m making him stay in bed this morning.”

Clarisse blushed. Even though Mac didn’t turn, he must have realized how that sounded because he cast a glance at her over his shoulder.

“His leg is really hurting him this morning. He came home last night barely able to walk.”

“Oh. What’d he do to it?”

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“Old injury. He didn’t take his cane with him.”

After a moment, Clarisse realized she wouldn’t get any more information from him. Cane? She hadn’t seen Sully use a cane, although come to think of it, he did have a noticeable limp.

Sully didn’t make an appearance before she finished her breakfast.

Mac sat at the other end of the counter, a towel on his seat.

She realized by the time she finished eating it almost felt…well, not normal, but she’d managed to grow more accustomed to seeing Mac running around naked. She shouldn’t complain. If he was fine with it, why not? At least she got one hell of a great view out of it.

Just because he was gay didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the scenery.

She took her shower. When she finished and returned to the living room on her way to refill her coffee, she found Sully on the couch with Mac fussing over him, getting him arranged with his left leg propped on pillows.

“I’m okay,” Sully insisted.

“No, you’re not. You could barely walk and you’re going to stay put. Whip my ass if you want, but I’m not budging on this.” Mac moved the coffee table close to the couch. “I’ll bring your laptop out here. You take it easy.” He disappeared down the hallway.

When Sully’s gaze landed on her, she stifled a laugh. He looked absolutely miserable. He shrugged as if to say, “What can I do?”

Despite her reborn mistrust, she smiled. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.”

“Thanks. It’s my own fault for overdoing it.”

“Mac said it was from an old injury?”

Sully’s face darkened. “Yeah. I got shot. Line of duty.”

She didn’t know how to respond. Before she could, Mac reappeared with the laptop and a lap desk for Sully. “All right, what else do you need?”

“A new body?”

Mac smiled. He’d pulled a pair of sweatpants on, but was still shirtless. “I’ve got to run downstairs for the laundry. If you need

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something, have Clarisse get it for you or wait for me. Do
not
get off that couch, you hear me?”

Sully glared, but snapped him a mock salute before Mac left.

Clarisse circled the couch. “Can I get you anything?”

“The remote, over there, please.”

She handed it to him and sat in one of the chairs. “Is that why you retired? You were shot?”

His face darkened again. “Yeah. Not my best day. I wasn’t supposed to be there, got called in at the last minute when I was off-duty and not at home. Only damn day I didn’t have a vest on, I get shot.” He flipped through channels before settling on MSNBC.

“Nearly died. Lots of rehab.” He rubbed his left leg, above the knee.

She spotted the pale, twisted scar that started at his knee and ran up his thigh, disappearing under his shorts. “One here, one in the gut.”

“I’m sorry.”

The hint of a smile. It turned his hard face sexy and conflicted her in ways she didn’t understand. “Why? It’s not your fault I got shot.”

“I’m still sorry.” She stood, walked to the kitchen, and poured a cup of coffee. She tried to delay her return to the living room. In reality, there wasn’t much else for her to do.

Maybe that was the answer.

She returned to the chair. “Before you get involved in your work, can we talk?”

“Sure.” He set the lap desk and computer on the coffee table.

“What’s up?”

“Our arrangement.” She cleared her throat. “What I should be doing. To help out.”

“Why don’t we discuss the elephant in the middle of the room first?”

She blushed. He still wore that sexy smile. “What do you mean?”

“The talk you and Mac had on the boat this weekend.”

She felt more heat pulsating in her face. “I told him that’s between you two.”

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“No, as someone who lives here, it involves you, too.” Mac opened the front door and walked in carrying a laundry basket. Sully called out to him, “Slave, put that down. Now. Come here.”

Looking confused, he set the basket down and walked over.

“Help me up.” When Mac started to protest, Sully silenced him.

“Don’t argue with me, slave. I want this conversation over with so we can get on with life.” Mac helped Sully stand. Then he handed him a walking cane that had been leaning against the end of the couch.

“Follow us, honey,” Sully said to her.

With her fingers firmly wrapped around her steaming mug of coffee, she followed the men down the hall. At the locked door, Sully punched in a code and turned the knob. “Zero, one, one, three. His birth date,” Sully explained. “January thirteenth.” He pushed the door open and limped inside where he flipped a light switch.

When Clarisse hesitated at the doorway, Sully turned and waved her in. “It’s okay,” he said, his tone gentle.

She stepped inside. The large room, approximately the same size as her bedroom, didn’t have an attached bathroom. Separated from her bedroom by Sully’s office, it was the last room at the end of the hallway. Several large pieces of equipment were pushed against the black walls, and a large cabinet took up one corner. A window shade muted the bright sunlight outside. She spotted several eyebolts screwed into the ceiling in strategic locations.

Sully followed her gaze. “They’re screwed into the roof trusses, so they can bear weight.”

“How much weight?”

He shrugged. “At least four hundred pounds. They’re reinforced with metal plates.” He pointed to one X-shaped structure. “St.

Andrew’s Cross.” He explained how it was used, then worked his way around the room naming the devices and basic uses. He could have been holding a seminar on decomposition rates or blood spatter patterns for a group of fellow cops, not BDSM furniture.

He finished. “Well?”

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“Well what?”

“Want to know more?”

She glanced at Mac and didn’t miss the desperate look on his face.

He worried she’d be scared off, that much was blatantly obvious. “Do I need to?”

Sully hobbled over to one of the benches and heavily sat with a pained grunt. “Here’s the thing. We were going to have a party next weekend, but I don’t mind canceling it if it’s too soon for you.”

This wasn’t her house. “I won’t tell you what you can and can’t do under your own roof.”

“That’s not the point,” Sully countered. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“As long as nobody’s doing anything to me, don’t cancel your party on my account. I’ll turn my TV up and lock my door.”

Mac looked worried. Sully nodded. “Okay.” He studied Mac’s attire. “Why are you still dressed?”

Mac blushed but stripped off the sweatpants. It was Clarisse’s turn to blush. Okay, so maybe there were major perks to this arrangement.

“If you have any questions, you’re always welcomed to ask,”

Sully assured her.

“Why do you have to beat him?”

“I don’t
have
to.”

“Then why do it?” They said ask questions? By God, she’d ask.

Mac didn’t wait for Sully to answer. “Because I like it,” he softly said, glancing at Sully as if for reassurance.

“How can anyone enjoy getting beaten?”

“It’s not as simple as that,” Sully interjected. “Only by seeing it over time can you understand. Punishment isn’t the same as play. It’s not all about pain, a lot of it is sensual.”

She shivered and gripped her mug more tightly.

Sully wasn’t finished. “Mac always has the ability to stop anything he doesn’t like. He can call red.” He glanced at Mac. “That brings me to another point. We don’t want to force our lifestyle on

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you. You are, however, welcome to watch if the door is open. Or if something happens you aren’t comfortable seeing, speak up and we’ll take it behind closed doors.”

“Does my uncle know what you do?”

“No, not really. He suspects I’m in charge, but that’s it.” He motioned to Mac, who helped him stand. “I’m not mentally at my best today, between the pain and the painkillers. So I need to give you a rain check on going over what I want you to do to help me out.

Basically, you’ll be my administrative assistant. As far as household duties, you and Mac can split them as he sees fit.” Mac started to protest, but Sully hushed him. “You
will
split your duties with her, slave. That’ll give you more time to work on the boat, keep your paperwork up to date, stuff like that. You said you wished you could take the boat out more often. Now you can.”

Mac finally nodded, but he didn’t look totally happy. “Yes, Master.”

With Mac’s assistance, Sully limped down the hall and back to the couch. “You’ll help Mac on the boat as he needs. Mac will come up with a reasonable pay scale for that. For what you’ll do around the house and for me, I’ll pay you two hundred a week cash, and you’ll get free room and board and the car on top of that. I’ll also pay your insurance. Is that okay?”

She numbly nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine.” A minimum of eight hundred a month, free and clear, in addition to whatever Mac paid her.

Add that to what she still had in savings, it wouldn’t take long to build a nice nest egg. After six months, she’d have more than enough to afford a small apartment and buy a cheap car of her own.

“I’ll pay you cash so Bryan can’t track you. Once that situation’s handled, I’ll adjust your pay so your after-tax income is still the same.”

“Thanks.”

Mac helped Sully rearrange himself on the couch. Mac started to

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hand him the lap desk, but Sully waved him off. “No, I think I need a nap.” His face appeared pinched with pain. “Let the pain meds kick in.” He shot a serious look at Mac. “Make a chore schedule of some sort by the end of the day. Doesn’t have to be elaborate, but you will let her take turns with chores.”

Mac reddened. “Yes, Master.”

Clarisse followed Mac into the kitchen. Then he spotted the laundry basket still sitting on the floor. “Well, you could help me with that.” He changed course and she followed him into their bedroom, where he dumped the clothes onto the bed.

It didn’t look like a monster lived here. As she helped Mac fold clothes, she snuck glances around, trying to spot anything out of the ordinary.

That sighting came when he opened the door to their large walk-in closet and flipped on the light. In the corner stood a small umbrella stand. Inside it, an umbrella, two more walking canes, several thin lengths of wood, and a few things that if she had to identify them, she’d swear they were riding crops.