Penance (Devout Trilogy #3) - Lesli Richardson Page 0,41

can imagine, based on the sounds.

Her low, pained grunts as she struggles to stay quiet probably means he’s pinching or maybe even biting the insides of her thighs.

Which are now, most likely, covered with her own juices.

She enjoys life with Carter, too. We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t. While this is not a place I ever envisioned myself being, now that I’m here I cannot imagine being anywhere else.

I don’t even mean this office.

I mean with these two people, and especially with Carter.

Carter at his best is a loving, kind, gentle, compassionate, funny, brilliant, gorgeous, sexy man.

Since I consider myself straight, those last two are pretty damn fine compliments.

Carter at his worst is evil, sadistic, mean, brilliant, gorgeous, and…

Yeah, sexy.

It pains me to admit that.

No, I’m usually literally in pain when I admit it.

Not that he would consider any of those descriptors an insult.

And, again, not that I’m complaining, because I’m not. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.

I know I don’t have to speak up and remind him of the time. It might not seem like he’s watching the clock, but I’m sure he’s calculating exactly how much he can cram into what little time the three of us have alone together right now.

Maybe perhaps literally cram.

That doesn’t even bother me anymore.

After a few minutes of him torturing her, he speaks.

“Boy.”

I’m on deck. I smoothly rise to my feet even as they sting, full of pins and needles and protesting they still need a moment to recover.

Carter smiles at me and my cock twitches. “Come here.”

His fist is buried in her hair, her cheek is pressed against the desk, and her skirt is now rucked up around her waist. She’s gorgeous and mussed, her blue eyes wild with that special kind of energy Carter has a particular way of building in both of us.

That please fuck me look.

Our times together have been few and far between lately, first with our grueling campaign schedule, and now with taking office. We went from sleeping together every night to sometimes barely seeing each other for days at a time.

That, above all, has been the most difficult part of all of this, losing that privacy, that time together. Not even sexy time. I mean being able to close our eyes, take a deep breath, and relax with our heads in Carter’s lap.

We’ve all had adjustments to make. Susa and I trust Carter to take care of us, though.

Like right now.

I’m sure whatever Carter has in mind will carry us through until the next rare time the three of us can be alone together.

Because it will have to.

* * * *

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Free Preview: Dirge

The following is a free preview from Dirge (Devastation Trilogy 1) by Lesli Richardson.

Description

He doesn’t know how to let go…

I was a husband, a father, a politician. Now, I’m just lost.

Maybe they can help find me, I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t be found.

Maybe the devastation that is my life should be allowed to crumble and decay.

There is no comfort in a funeral dirge, no solace in empty words spoken to me.

There is no release from this hell but death, and I can’t do that yet.

I don’t know how to let go.

But…maybe they can help me hold on.

* * * *

Chapter One

Now

A finger pokes me dead center in my forehead, insistently tapping and waking me up. For the briefest of moments I think it’s one of my kids, until I remember my youngest is now in college and lives on campus in a dorm.

And I know it’s not my wife’s finger, because she’s—

I force an eye open to see Casey standing there at the side of my bed, a cup of coffee in her hand. She’s staring down at me with that cocky head tilt she has, along with the disapproving smirk I’ve been graced with countless times over the decades we’ve known each other.

She’s my best friend, and my wife’s best friend, but worse?

She’s my chief of staff.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I grumble.

“Wake-up call. I knew you’d ignore the phone.”

Damn her, she’s right.

“How’d you get in?” This is not the first time we’ve had this conversation.

Far from it.

That she still has it with me proves to me she does, in fact, love me.

Sort of.

“I’ve had your key and alarm code for years, George. Duh. You really are a shit-for-brains before coffee, you know that?”

“If you know me as