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  He exhales roughly, hot breath wafting over my bare skin. “Yeah?”

  “Oh, absolutely.” I shift restlessly as Hugh taps his erection against Lachlan’s backside. “I’ll shut up now.”

  He laughs, then groans as Hugh spreads his cheeks and rubs the fat head of his cock right there.

  “Keep talking, Beth.” Hugh hisses in a breath. “Yeah. Fuck. Tell him what you see.”

  I’m squirming now. “You’re pushing into him.”

  “Slow,” Lachlan says, his voice strained.

  “I know.” Hugh pauses, then his hips flex again, just a hair. “Lemme in.”

  “It’s going to feel so good,” I whisper as I tug on Lachlan’s hair. Time for him to be distracted. I pull his face to my pussy and roll my hips, no longer nervous about him breathing in the scent of me. Breath it in? I want to rub it all over him, to cover him with sex so he forgets to be nervous about me watching Hugh take him like this.

  And it works.

  He dives right in, his lips and tongue moving urgently over my swollen flesh. Each lick and thrust is electric, and the guttural cries he lets out in between are erotic as hell, too.

  Behind him, Hugh rolls his head, tipping his face to the ceiling. I gaze through glassy eyes at the way his muscles strain, too. Two raging beasts rutting in front of me, at my command.

  “Is this what it was like when it was just the two of you?” I ask. A remarkably coherent question for how sex-muddled I feel.

  Lachlan groans and Hugh nods slowly. “Yeah. Sort of. You’re a delicious addition. You love her, don’t you, Lachlan?”

  He means my taste, that’s all.

  But as Lachlan sucks my clit into his mouth, suddenly hard and demanding, a wave of intense emotion slams into me. I jerk my gaze back to Hugh’s face and he gives me a crooked, knowing smile.

  I drop my gaze to the rope ladder holding Lachlan’s arms behind his back. Further back, to the spot where Hugh is now seated fully inside him.

  Sex.

  Focus on the sex.

  “Are you ready to get fucked, baby?” I tug on his hair. “That’s so good, just like that. Keep sucking on my clit. And Hugh’s going to blow your mind.”

  I don’t even know what I’m talking about, but it sounds hot, and frankly, I can’t imagine he’d consent to it if it wasn’t going to blow his mind.

  It’s blowing mine, and I’m a body removed from the intrusion.

  But I know what it’s like when Hugh slides into me, taking up a breathtaking amount of space where there’s normally nothing but longing. And I’ve imagined taking him—taking either of them—in my ass.

  It makes me clench tight, but it also makes me hot and achy.

  “You’re so lucky,” I whisper. “Hugh’s good, isn’t he? I can tell he’s taking his time. Letting you adjust to how big he is. How thick and hard.”

  “I’ve gotta go slow,” the intruder says, his eyelids heavy and his lips swollen as he gazes lovingly at where Lachlan is stretched around him. “He’s tight.”

  Big, thick, hard. Tight.

  Such dirty words. I like them all. “He feels good?”

  “Fucking amazing. I’ve missed this.” He rocks forward, and Lachlan curls his tongue around my clit, greedily sucking at me.

  “Do that again,” I breathe, and Hugh does, and Lachlan does, and it’s so decadently sinful I want to scream.

  Hugh shifts his hold on Lachlan, his big, thick fingers tangling in the ropes, and I lose myself in the rhythm of our bodies, the push and pull of sex. Heat swirls beneath the surface of my skin, and from the soft sheen of sweat coating Lachlan’s bulging arms, he feels it too.

  Hugh looks cool as a cucumber, the dirty man that he is. But the look in his eyes betrays that this is unusually hot for him, too. He’s wild for it, deep down. Wild for us, together, spread out on the bed in front of him.

  I cup my breasts, pulling on my nipples. Put on a bit of a show. Touching myself, touching Lachlan, too. Hugh likes it best when I hold Lachlan’s head between my legs and get myself off, pulling my thighs up and then spreading them wide.

  “He’s driving me wild,” I tell Hugh, my voice cracking. “His mouth is so good.”

  “Your pussy tastes like magic, that’s why. I want a taste myself when we’re done.”

  “I’ll be dead when we’re done.”

  “I’ll bring you back to life with my tongue.”

  “Is that magic, too?”

  “You know it.” He growls and bucks his hips.

  Lachlan lifts his head and gives me a sex-drunk look. “You’re an evil, wonderful woman,” he says, his words slurring a bit.

  “You like that.”

  “God, yes.”

  “You okay?”

  “Uh huh.” He licks his lips. “You can be harder. Get yourself off on my face.”

  Wild disbelief wars with hungry arousal as I reach for his hair again. My fingers tangle through the short strands, then I just spread my fingers wide, instead. I hold his head still as I rock against his mouth, tiny little movements now, so close…Climbing, climbing…My clit throbs as I rub it back and forth against his lips. It’s not enough, but it’s so good, and I’m still climbing. I think maybe this way I could just keep winding up forever.

  I tug his head to the side, and he keeps licking and sucking there. My thigh, the curve of my hip, the top of my mound. Hugh’s moving him all over the place now, and I let him go.

  I need my hand to stroke myself over the edge.

  And I want to release him from his duty of pleasuring me, to release him into his own pleasure.

  I flex my leg beneath his face. His eyes are closed, his brow pulled tight, and his lips are parted. He’s a sculpted Greek statue, tipped forward, being ravaged. “Come for him, Lachlan.”

  A ragged groan slides over those lips, and my eyelids flutter as that sexy, lurid sound pulls on something inside me. I roll my head and look to Hugh. His face is twisted, too.

  We’re all close.

  I think Lachlan goes first. He shudders, then seizes up, all of his muscles flexed hard against the rope confines, and then Hugh’s swearing and holding himself deep inside our lover. I wonder what that feels like. Is it a fight to stay inside? Does it hurt so good as he clamps down?

  Heat twists fast in my belly, deep and low inside me. I want to feel that. I want Hugh to take me there, some day. Maybe soon.

  My face flames as I rub my clit faster, my pussy and ass both clenching to be filled.

  Soon.

  And for now, I’ve got the heavy weight of Lachlan on my leg, and Hugh’s gaze locked on my fingers as I frig myself over the edge.

  One of them tells me I’m beautiful as I twist in freefall, the climax ricocheting through me.

  Then Hugh falls forward, bracing one hand against the bed as the other fumbles with the ropes. I scramble out from under Lachlan and help him loose, then I rub his shoulders as he sits up and leans back against Hugh.

  They both give me lazy, happy grins.

  “That was good, right?” My heart is hammering in my chest.

  Lachlan holds out his arms. “Come here.”

  I fall into him, and he kisses the top of my head, then I bury my face in his chest. I hear them kiss above me, and I’m so fully of happiness I wonder if I might burst.

  After a few minutes, Hugh disappears to get a washcloth. Lachlan gasps when it’s not as warm as he expected, and Hugh just shrugs.

  “Beth gets it extra warm. You get what you get.”

  “Jerk.” But Lachlan pulls him close and kisses him again, and I want to take a picture of the way they’re looking at each other.

  I love you both.

  It’s the craziest, most dangerous thought. But it’s true.

  I can’t say it out loud, though. I’m going to bury it deep, my little secret.

  We crawl into bed, me in the middle, and Lachlan strokes my cheek. “Was that better stress relief?”

  “That was perfect.”

  �
��After the wedding, everything is going to quiet down. Then we’ll have the summer to explore this thing between the three of us in detail.”

  “Detail?” Hugh asks, delight dancing in his voice.

  Lachlan winks. “Great detail. Intimate, careful, close-up…detail.”

  I twist my arms around so I’m hugging them both. “I can’t wait.”

  “And I have another surprise for you both,” Lachlan says.

  “What?”

  “I finalized the travel schedule this afternoon. Without any inappropriate manipulations on my part, Hugh and I are both off the rotation schedule for the prime minister’s honeymoon.”

  “Oh.” My eyes go big and round, and hope leaps in my chest. “So we can have some down time together?”

  He nods. “I think we should rent a cabin for a few days after the wedding, don’t you think?”

  I throw my arms around his neck. “You’re a genius.” I kiss his mouth with a loud smack, then spin around and kiss Hugh, who’s laughing at me. “Just the three of us, surrounded by nature. Mountains, maybe?”

  “You want mountains?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you’ll have them.”

  31

  Hugh

  June

  I’ve never been a fan of weddings. Maybe I’ve been going to the wrong ones, but the promised easy bridesmaids or curious groomsmen thing never panned out for me.

  This wedding, however, might just change my mind. For one thing, while Beth and Lachlan aren’t officially a bridesmaid and a groomsman, I’m definitely getting lucky with both of them. And for another, the setting is fucking magical.

  Enough to win over even the least romantic of souls.

  Gavin and Ellie are getting married at a lodge high on a summit above Squamish, a picturesque former logging town halfway between Vancouver and Whistler.

  And despite the fact that I’m working, implementing our security measures, I’m able enjoy the beauty more this time around.

  Two days ago, I was here with the advance team assessing the site and establishing a security protocol and my attention was focused on finding all the security holes and coming up with ways to plug them.

  There are a lot of trails around the venue that are easily accessible without the aid of the gondola for anyone who’s willing to do some serious uphill hiking.

  And Squamish has no shortage of people into that, so cutting public access, even for a day is a no-go. As an avid hiker himself, Gavin wouldn’t even consider the notion.

  Instead, we opt to restrict access to the lodge where the wedding and reception are being held and set up a secondary perimeter of remote cameras which will be monitored from a mobile command centre.

  Fortunately, paparazzi are our biggest security concern. We’ve managed to arrange a no-fly zone around the venue, and secure access to the suspension bridge and viewing area, so it would take a mighty intrepid photographer lugging one of those over-sized telephoto lenses to get any kind of shot, let alone one worth selling.

  I meet Stew and Adrienne’s three boys on the suspension bridge as I head back to the lodge.

  “Where are you guys headed?”

  “Dad said we could explore the trails today, and if we’re well behaved at the wedding tomorrow, we can go zip-lining up in Whistler before we go back to Ottawa,” Alan says in a rush of words. I feel kind of smug for being able to tell the twins apart. It’s not hard if you’re paying attention. Alan has a tiny scar above his right eye. Eric doesn’t. Sadly, some people can’t be bothered. I did laugh when I heard a kid call Eric ‘the other Alan’, though.

  “Sounds like a fair deal. Try not to get lost.”

  “Oh, Daniel has a map,” Eric says, pointing at his big brother. “He's in Venturers. That’s where you go when you’re too old to be a scout anymore.”

  “In that case, have fun exploring.”

  Such a nice family.

  My phone vibrates before my jacket pocket emits Lachlan’s ringtone. I’m a little startled at the sound—especially in the quiet of the forest.

  Most of the time, my phone is set to vibrate only, but being surrounded by people for three full days and virtually no privacy, Lachlan, Beth, and I set up ringtones to make it easier for us to talk privately.

  “Hey Lachlan, what’s up?”

  “Are you nearly done? Things are good to go on this end. We’re just waiting on Ellie.”

  I give a small chuckle. He’s worried I’m going to upstage the bride and arrive after she does, interrupting the rehearsal proper. “Relax, I’m only a few minutes out.”

  “Is that you half-way along the footbridge?”

  “You know it is.”

  He lets out a long sigh. “Hurry up. You look like you’re out for a Sunday stroll.”

  I suppress my urge to shoot him the finger, but I do pick up the pace.

  When I get back to the lodge, Beth is having a glass of champagne with Gavin while they wait for his bride-to-be to arrive for the rehearsal.

  She’s radiant. I want to walk over there, pull her into my arms, and kiss her senseless. Two things keep me from doing exactly that.

  I’m on duty. And our affair is a secret.

  A dirty big secret.

  Lachlan is only a few steps away. His eyes are constantly moving, searching the area for the slightest thing out of place. I love that look. It may have been what first attracted me to him all those years ago.

  Another dirty big secret.

  Normally, I love secrets. I revel in them. Especially when they’re deliciously filthy. The forbidden can be so irresistibly tantalising.

  But not this time.

  All this sneaking around doesn’t feel right. It eats at my gut.

  Usually, I love shit that doesn’t feel right. That’s my wheelhouse. But after two months of deliciousness, today has been full of weird and unfamiliar feelings.

  Guilt, maybe. It feels disrespectful to be the reason why Lachlan and Beth have to hide their feelings.

  If it weren’t for me…

  My thoughts trail off as Ellie appears.

  She looks stunning in a floaty ivory floral print dress that comes to her knees. It’s a bit more formal than a sundress, but she looks comfortable.

  Gavin’s eyes light up as soon as he spots her. He crosses the floor to meet her, then pulls her into his arms and kisses her like nobody’s watching.

  I steal a glance at Beth, then Lachlan. Am I standing in their way?

  32

  Beth

  One of Sasha’s many wedding gifts to Ellie was arranging for a team of beauty professionals to pamper us on the morning of the wedding.

  They show up at quarter to six carrying trays of Starbucks coffee, so I love them.

  “We were waiting when the baristas opened the door,” the makeup girl says.

  “You are goddesses,” I whisper as I curl my hands around a steaming latte and wonder if maybe I can just grab a few more minutes of sleep while I sit here and breath it in.

  I think Hugh and Lachlan slipped out of my room sometime around three. Not nearly enough sleep, but totally worth it.

  Hair is the first order of business. It’s a treat to have someone else straighten my hair, and once my bob is sleek as can be, the stylist twists in some delicate rhinestone details that catch the light when I turn.

  Breakfast arrives at seven, and in the middle of the room service carts is an ice bucket with two bottles of champagne that look like they cost an obscene amount of money.

  “Sasha, this is incredible,” Ellie says as she pops a strawberry in her mouth.

  The maid of honour shakes her head. “Wasn’t me. Must have been your husband-to-be.”

  Violet—who got out of the five-thirty wake-up call on account of growing a human being, and having a protective doctor for a husband, so she’s just joined us—picks up a bottle of bubbly fruit juice. “And he thought of me, too.”

  Gavin’s mother—an insanely elegant woman who intimidates everyone, incl
uding the prime minister—stands up and peers at the tray, then snaps up a small white card folded in the corner. Eagle eyes, that woman. But she probably got a full night’s sleep last night. “Game day. Fuel up!” She reads from the card, then glances up and frowns at Ellie. “Who is Tate Nilsson?”

  “A friend of Gavin’s. A hockey player,” Ellie adds, surprise all over her face. “That was really nice of him. He’s coming today, so we’ll need to remember to thank him.” She waves her fingers at Sasha. “Maybe you can say something in your speech?”

  “Uh…” Sasha wrinkles her nose. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. Be nice.”

  “He’s a—” She cuts herself off and glances toward Gavin’s mother, and Ellie’s mother, and then presses her lips together and nods. “Fine.”

  I’m not sure how exactly Tate’s rubbed Sasha the wrong way. He’s a total playboy, which may have been what she was going to say, but jerk or pompous asshole could have been just as likely. He’s the captain of the Ottawa Senators and a friend of Lachlan and Gavin’s. He even plays hockey with them in the off-season for fun.

  And he was at the holiday play party I went to at Max’s—with Sasha.

  But I don’t think they had any run-ins that night.

  It’s curious, but I don’t care right now. He bought us fancy champagne, and I want some.

  Breakfast of wedding champions.

  The next hour spins by in a whirlwind of make-up instructions. At one point I head down the hallway to get more ice and find Hugh guarding the elevator entrance to our floor. He’s got an ear piece in, and while I’ve seen them wear those before, of course, there’s something about bubbly first thing in the morning that makes it seem extra-hot.

  He takes one look at my probably-really-pink face and laughs. “Having a good time?”

  “I. Love. Weddings.”

  “Yeah? I couldn’t tell.”

  I twirl in my pretty dress. “We’ll dance later, right? This dress was made for dancing.”

  “It sure was.” His voice slides lower. “Can’t wait to peel you out of it, too.”