After Burn

After Burn

A Trinity Masters short story

By Lila Dubois and Mari Carr

Copyright 2014 Lila Dubois and Mari Carr

First electronic publication: November 2014

Cover by Valerie Tibbs

Published by Farm Boy Press

~~~~

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are

products of the writers’ imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Important note

After Burn
is not a standalone story. It follows
Scorching Desire
, book three in the
Trinity Masters
series. This story contains spoilers for
Scorching Desire
and other
Trinity
Masters
books.

From the authors

We hope you’ve enjoyed the
Trinity Masters
series so far. Though the mystery in
Scorching Desire
was resolved, there was more to Tasha, Damon and Marco’s story.

We wanted to know how these three complicated, powerful people were going to make

their relationship work. This short story answers that question and picks up on the night of their wedding, a few hours after we last saw them. Enjoy
After Burn
and look for
Forbidden Legacy, Trinity Masters, Book Four
in 2014!

Sincerely,

Lila and Mari.

From
Scorching Desire

“We need a plan.” Tasha picked a chocolate-covered strawberry off the plate and
bit into it.

“I have a plan. That’s why you’re wearing a plug.” Damon licked the strawberry
juice from her lips.

She shifted, leaning against him. The plug they’d used to tease her before dinner
was firmly embedded in her ass. It was hardly her first time wearing one, but it was the
first time it had made her this aroused.

Though she was lounging in a white silk robe—found in the bridal lingerie

section—she might as well have been naked. Damon kept slipping his hand under the
fabric to play with her nipples. Rather than making her feel like an object, it made her
feel wanton. If Damon’s semi-erect penis was any indication, he too was riding a low
level of arousal.

“If you were a good husband you’d be more accepting of a nice ass fucking,”

Marco said as he popped open the second bottle of champagne.

“I’m more than happy to fuck both of you that way.”

Tasha’s lips twitched. “You’re a bit of a prude,” she teased him.

“That’s hardly true. If we used the legal standard of a reasonable person—”

“No legal standards. Spare me.” Marco poured the champagne.

“By a reasonable person’s standards,” Damon said loudly, “regularly participating
in orgies, going to sex clubs and marrying both a man and a woman, at the same time,
is hardly prudish.”

“Therefore you’re allowed to say you’ll only do the fucking and not get fucked?”

Marco handed Tasha a glass and winked.

“You’re damned right,” Damon muttered.

Tasha lost the battle to hold back her laughter.

Marco sat on her other side and pulled one of her feet onto his lap.

She cuddled against them. It was hard to decide what she wanted more—to

continue the sweet intimacy they’d shared while dining on room service, or for them to
return to the bedroom to continue learning how they fit together. The plug was the
preparation for what was coming next—Tasha couldn’t wait to be between them, their
big hard bodies surrounding hers as she took one man in her pussy and the other in her
ass. Once the thought had scared her—not so much the physical act, but what it would
mean. Now it was almost all she could think about. It was unbearably sweet that they’d
planned it all out and had a plug ready to help prepare her for the double penetration.

Tasha wasn’t entirely sure a normal woman would think being made to wear a butt plug
was sweet, but for her it was.

Tasha rubbed her toes over the front of Marco’s pants. His cock stiffed under the
sole of her foot.

“Shall we go to the bedroom?” she whispered. Damon’s hand tightened on her

breast and Tasha moaned.

“I like that plan,” Damon said.

“Come on, husband, wife.” Marco rose and then held out his hands to pull them

to their feet.

Now read on…

After Burn

“I’ve got a cramp in my back.” Marco groaned and stretched. “Tasha, how do you

take up so much room?”

She shoved at their shoulders, trying to get some space. “I can barely breathe.

You two are suffocating me.”

Damon rolled over and skimmed his hand over her breasts “I think you like it.”

Tasha could have said something cutting, but she was too satiated—and too in

love—to be clever. Every time she’d thought they were done with their increasingly inventive and intense sex session, something—a touch, a look—would inspire them to start again.

Damon shifted, his knee bumping hers. Despite the extra-large California king

bed, it seemed like there wasn’t enough room for all of them.

“Marco may be right.” Damon rubbed his leg. “We need a sleeping plan.”

Plan.

Tasha sat up and wiggled down to the foot of the bed. Her men, her husbands,

lounged on the mattress. The sheets were tangled around Marco’s legs, and Damon

had hoarded the pillows. They were both rumpled and deliciously naked. She crossed her arms to keep herself reaching out to touch them.

Marco grinned as he examined her, much the same was she’d looked over him.

“I was tired a minute ago, but if you keep standing there I could bring myself to try for another encore. Damon?”

“Agreed.”

“We have to talk about something first.” Tasha grabbed a robe and put it on

before tossing one at each of them. “Come on.”

Five minutes later her husbands—wasn’t she a lucky girl to have two such

amazing men all to herself—were seated beside one another and staring expectantly at her.

“We could be having sex,” Marco reminded them.

“This is important.” Tasha folded her arms.

“Sex is important.” Marco leaned back, his robe gaping open.

Damon shook his head, but he was smiling. “Tasha, what is it?”

Determined to see this through, Tasha sat in the armchair across from them.

“I meant what I said, when we were first matched.” Tasha took a deep breath.

“I’m not good for your careers, either of you.”

“We don’t care. We told you that.” Marco smiled. Damon crossed his arms,

staring at the wall.

“Maybe you don’t, but I do. Especially for you, Damon. If you’re appointed to a

judgeship your personal life will under scrutiny.”

“That’s why the blackmail was such a problem, but that doesn’t have anything to

do with us, the three of us,” Marco said.

Damon remained quiet.

“That’s not enough, Marco,” Tasha insisted. From Damon’s silence she knew he

agreed and probably understood where this conversation was going. “We have to

decide how we’re presenting ourselves to the outside world.”

Marco waved a hand. “Let them think what they want.”

“Don’t be a dumbass,” Damon murmured. “You know that’s not realistic.”

Marco searched Damon’s face. “What are you saying?”

Damon motioned for Tasha to continue.

“You and I, Marco, can be a couple to the outside world. I hadn’t planned on that, but after what happened at the symphony hall, it will be simplest if you continue to be in a relationship with Natasha, the model.”

“And what about Damon?” Marco asked.

The lawyer rose to his feet and went to the window. “I’ll be alone.”

Tasha’s heart broke. He sounded so resigned and defeated.

“What? No.” Marco went to Damon. He grabbed his head and kissed him hard.

“That’s not what’s going to happen. You won’t be alone.”

“No,” Tasha said. “He won’t. At least, not at first. I have a plan.”

They both looked at her. Damon’s expression went from stoic to alarmed. “I have

never liked any of your plans,” he said.

Tasha smiled. “Then you’re going to hate this one.”

Los Angeles, two weeks later

Tasha finished applying the prosthetic nose. Damon was standing behind her

watching the process with interest, and Marco was on video chat, watching from his kitchen in Chicago.

Standing back she looked at each of them in turn. “What do you think?”

“You look different,” Damon said after a moment.

“That’s the point.”

Tasha had added brown lowlight hairpieces, turning her normally pale gold hair

golden brown. She wore a prosthetic over her distinctively narrow nose. Small pads inside her cheeks rounded her face.

“You’re still pretty,” Marco said. “Before you were beautiful. Now you’re cute.”

“Thank you.” She added brown contacts, completing the transformation. “How

long do I have?” she asked Damon.

“Twenty minutes.”

He was already dressed in a tux and ready for the Founding Families Gala at the

Los Angeles Public Library. It was an important networking event for his career, and for the first time, he’d be taking a date.

Tasha put on a padded bra, going from a B to D cup, then slipped on a

conservative evening gown.

When she was dressed, she turned to face Damon.

“Mr. Corzo,” she held out a hand. “I’m Emma Wilson. It’s nice to meet you.”

Damon smiled and seemed to relax. “Emma. It’s nice to meet you. Please, call

me Damon.”

“Thank you, Damon.”

They said goodbye to Marco and then left Damon’s townhouse in Mar Vista,

headed for downtown L.A. On the way there, Tasha quizzed him.

“What’s my name?”

“Emma Wilson.”

“How did we meet?”

“We met at a coffee shop when I was in law school. I saw the Peace Corps

sticker on your bag and started talking to you because my parents were planning on joining.”

“And what do I do?”

“You’re an agricultural engineer. You were born in Africa while your parents were

on a humanitarian mission—that’s why you don’t have a birth certificate or driver’s license. You’ve lived all over the world and have only recently come back to the U.S.”

“Perfect. How long have we been seeing each other?”

“Off and on for years. We were never serious because you travel so much.

You’ve been in Haiti for the past nine months.”

“And now that I’m moving back to the U.S. permanently?”

“We’ve decided to try for a serious relationship.”

Tasha laid her hand on Damon’s arm. His voice had become increasingly grim as

he repeated the information.

“Damon, it’s going to be okay.”

“Have I mentioned that I hate this plan?”

“I know. I wish it didn’t have to be like this.” She looked out the window at the

palm trees. “I wish you’d be paired with someone who could be a part of your life.”

“Tasha…Emma…That’s not what I meant.” He sighed. “I’m just worried this won’t

work.”

“It might not if you’re tense and acting like you don’t want me to be there.”

“I’ll relax.” He zoomed onto the freeway and merged into the late afternoon traffic.

“I’ll help you relax.” Tasha reached for his pants.

“You shouldn’t…we’ll crash…” Damon moaned as she bent and licked the tip of

his cock, which she’d freed from his slacks. It swelled in her hand.

“Watch the road,” she whispered.

Damon was relaxed and smiling by the time they pulled up to the valet stand.

Tasha waited for him to come around and help her out, then clung to his arm as

they climbed the steps.

“Damon, good to see you.” An older gentleman with glasses and thinning hair

beckoned Damon over. “Judge McKinney is here, I’d like to introduce you. And who’s this?”

“Bruce, this is Emma, Emma Wilson.”

“Emma, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Bruce was clearly surprised to see her.

“And you, Bruce. I’m delighted that I’m finally going to get to meet some of

Damon’s colleagues.” She smiled graciously, then looked up at Damon. “Honey, I don’t want to keep you from mingling. I’ll go get drinks.”

“I’ll help you.” An elegant blonde woman appeared at Bruce’s elbow. “I’m Cheryl,

Bruce’s wife. I didn’t realize Damon was seeing anyone.”

As she and Cheryl headed for the bar, Tasha laughed lightly. “Well, he hasn’t

really been seeing me, unless you count a few grainy images during Skype calls.”

“Oh?”

As they gathered glasses of champagne Tasha told the romantic tale of Emma