Parts of Us by Cara Dee

Genre: MMMM Romance/BDSM Romance
Series: The Game Series #14
Release Day: Thursday, March 21, 2024

Buy Direct from author: https://www.thestorebycara.com/products/ebook-parts-of-us-the-game-series-14
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The Game Series, #14 | Doll Parts Sequel | MMMM | M/s | DD/lb | Hurt/Comfort
Grab your favorite stuffie and join Cam, Lucian, KC, and Noa as they jump over life’s hurdles together with their kinky friends as support. Brat shenanigans are to be expected, starting with an Easter Egg Hunt—that has a twist—and continue until they’re off on their Caribbean cruise.

I could admit, when my boyfriend and I finally got together with our Master and Daddy Dom, I’d thought that this was it. I was going to cruise through the rest of my life high on love.

Six months later, I knew that the reality of a happily ever after was much more complex, messy, and beautiful. I learned to see it in the little things. Like in the smiles between Master and Daddy that whispered of their thirty-year-long friendship, in how my boyfriend lit up when he got a new stuffie, and in how we painted the walls of our home with all the raw emotions life brought. I saw it in the way our dynamics evolved, how we truly were four parts of a whole, and how we overcame obstacles.

We did have one obstacle we couldn’t postpone any longer. My boyfriend still hadn’t told his mother that he wasn’t dating only me. He was dating her ex-husband, the man who’d been his stepfather. We also had to convince our Master to cut down on work because he was stressing himself out, and his blood pressure was already high.

Then one night, I lost my footing when he collapsed and an ambulance drove off with him.

We couldn’t be us without him. If one was missing, we were just…parts.

____

The Game Series is a BDSM series where romance meets the reality of kink. Sometimes we fall for someone we don’t match with, sometimes vanilla business gets in the way of kinky pleasure, and sometimes we have to compromise and push ourselves to overcome trauma and insecurities. No matter what, one thing is certain. This is not a perfect world—and maybe that’s why the happily ever after feels so good.

 

The characters in the Game Series cross over in multiple books, as we follow not only new love interests but the background friendships and dynamics of a thriving kink community. This is the second story that follows KC, Noa, Cam, and Lucian. Parts of Us is best enjoyed if you’ve read Doll Parts first.

Excerpt

These are the parts of us, and we will fight for our lives to protect what we have.

*

Cameron

The door opened, and I lit up. He’s tired. My smile faltered a little, even as his widened. Oh, he needed to rest. He couldn’t keep working this much. It might sound early to have dinner at six, but he’d gone into work at four-fucking-thirty this morning. And honestly, most of the time, we didn’t have dinner till past seven, and then he worked in his home office after we’d eaten.

“Without a doubt, the best part of my day,” he said. “I missed you an absurd amount today, darling.”

“I missed you too, Owner.” I stepped forward and helped him with his coat, and I hung it in the closet next to the laundry room. And then I was in his arms. He hugged me tightly, and I slipped my hands up his chest and locked them around his neck.

Fuck.

I screwed my eyes shut and squeezed him as tightly as I could.

Lucian Leroux wasn’t one to complain when he was under pressure. If anything, he hunkered down and pushed himself harder. But I could tell anyway. Master’s exhaustion radiated off him in every ounce of affection. Like silent pleas for help.

*

Noa

“That’s not what I feckin’ said, lad!” T laughed and grabbed his water bottle from the nearest amp.

I grinned, completely out of breath, and lifted my tee to wipe sweat off my face. “Sure sounded like it!” Fuck, I was spent. We had two more songs to rehearse, and I could only hope I didn’t go through the last of my drumsticks. I’d stupidly brought the wrong bag, where I had a bunch of thin 5A sticks that I never used—for a damn reason.

Barry was about to say something, no doubt to get on T’s case—’cause that was fun—but we were interrupted by a knock on the door. Someone could clearly not read, considering the massive “DO NOT DISTURB” sign on the door.

T was closest, so he went over and opened the door. “Aye?” He opened it wider, and I did a double take.

What the jizzy fuck? It was Santiago! And Gael!

“Hi!” I lit up, surprised and confused as hell, but always happy to see them. “Why are you here, how did find me, and…” I trailed off when I registered the somber look on Santiago’s face. Paired with Gael’s expression of worry. Before I even knew it, I shot right up, my stomach tightening. “What’s wrong?”

Santiago took a step forward and nodded subtly for me to follow. “You need to come with us, Noa.”

 

No.

I swallowed hard as a handful of worst-case scenarios ran through my head and filled me with dread. Daddy had been in another accident, Mom had overdosed, something was very wrong with Lucian, Cam—oh God, Cameron. Nothing could be wrong with any of them!

My ears started ringing, and I vaguely registered T asking if I “knew them,” as in, Santiago and Gael, and Barry wondered if I needed anything. Um, yeah, some fucking answers. And reassurances. Everyone was okay, right?

“Can you fucking tell me what’s happened?” I asked and snatched up my tee and hoodie.

“It’s Lucian—he’s in the hospital,” Santiago replied.

 

No, no, no, no, no.

*

KC

Moments later, we rolled into the ambulance bay of the hospital in Tysons.

Stress and worry spiked as I scanned the doors of the vehicle, and everything was suddenly happening quickly. I sucked in a breath and just pushed myself into action. I grabbed on to a handle, bent down quickly so I could support my weight with a hand on the floor, and I jumped out clumsily but effectively before hospital staff assisted with getting Lucian out.

My heart pounded, and I cursed my own weakness—

“…needs a cane or a wheelchair,” Lucian slurred. “Fuckin’ get it for him!”

Christ. I ran a hand through my hair and registered the moment of confusion between the doctors and nurses surrounding the stretcher, and I had to swallow my pride and let them know I suffered from partial paralysis in both legs.

Thankfully, they acted swiftly and without questions, and within seconds, I had two crutches so I could keep up. I hurried after Lucian and his team of hospital staff. It wasn’t a long trek, but it felt like a fucking marathon.

In the triage area, they wheeled him in for an EKG, and they closed the blue curtain so I had to wait just outside. A nurse joined me shortly thereafter and asked if I could describe Lucian’s day leading up to the “episode.”

“He’s been in and out of meetings all day,” I replied, trying to peer through the two-inch-wide opening between two curtains. They were stripping Lucian of his shirt and attaching electrodes to his chest. Christ, it hurt to see. Everything fucking hurt. My legs were numbing and prickling uncomfortably, my heart wouldn’t calm down, my arms strained, and…this had nothing on seeing Lucian that way. “I doubt he’s been eating well. He’s lived in denial about his high blood pressure, and he acts like he can schedule his resting time for when it’s convenient.” I took a breath and did my best to organize my thoughts. “We, uh—we had friends over for dinner, and he was dismissive about a headache before they arrived. He’s experienced milder symptoms lately too. Dizziness, prickling in his skin, usually hands and arms, tension headaches, and chest pain.”

The nurse nodded along and asked some follow-ups. My phone vibrated with an incoming call, but I’d have to handle that later.

“Has he monitored his blood pressure regularly? Do you happen to know what it’s been in the last week?”

“Uh…” I rested one of the crutches against a wall and rubbed my forehead. “I remember last week, something about…I wanna recall 154/97…? That’s after a stressful day at work. But last night, it was higher—162/109, I think. I don’t know his morning readings.”

“Understood—”

“Is he having a heart attack?” I just had to ask.

“The EKG will let us know if anything’s happening right now, and then we’ll wait to see what the blood work reveals,” she responded. “Is he on any medication?”

I cleared my throat. “PrEP and…I don’t know if he’s actually taking them, but he was prescribed 500 milligrams of some sort of medication for high blood pressure a few weeks ago. I’m afraid I don’t remember if he’s supposed to take it once or twice a day.”

Cam really fucking should be here. He was the one who knew every little thing about Lucian’s health.

*

Lucian

The nurse opened the door again and poked her head in. “I have two family members itching to see you, sir.”

Two family members. Two, not three.

Fucking hell, that hurt.

 

What have I done?

As I stepped into my pants, KC and Noa appeared in the doorway, both dressed in hoodies and sweats. Noa was half hidden behind KC and looked like he’d just woken up, but KC had showered and most likely completed his workout. Which meant he hadn’t gotten enough sleep last night. Because of me.

“Hi…” Noa was uncharacteristically shy as he snuck closer, and I couldn’t take it. He was too adorable, his voice hit me in a way that made my eyes smart, and I was suddenly desperate for his energy and affection.

I sat back against the edge of the hospital bed, and I cleared my throat and managed to motion for him to come to me. And he didn’t hesitate. He rushed over, and then I had him in my arms.

 

God.

I buried my face in his hair and breathed him in, and if I hugged him any tighter, he’d suffocate.

KC asked to speak with the doctor, so they went outside, and that was just as well. I’d reached my limit. I hadn’t even asked what the fuck a CRP was.

“You gotta be okay,” Noa said thickly.

I drew a deep breath, and for a brief moment, the ache lessened. It made me want to overanalyze when the pain struck and why, why it faded, why it changed, why it moved.

“I will be,” I murmured. I eased back so I could cup his face in my hands—and I saw the hurt in his eyes too. The doubt, the worry. Cam wasn’t the only one I’d lied to. Intentionally or not, I’d overestimated my capabilities far too long. I’d said I was fine even when I’d known I was so far from it. “I’ve heard my wake-up call.”

He bit at the corner of his lip, hesitating. “Do you promise?”

I was half surprised he wanted a promise. I’d made those before, and they’d meant shit.

“I’ll prove it,” I said. “I want you to trust me again.”

He smiled carefully and shrugged a little. “I trust you now too—as long as you make changes. And, um, you gots to make things right with Cameron. He’s scared.”

 

Ouch.

Talk about sobering.

I swallowed.

 

He’s scared.

“When Daddy said you weren’t having a heart attack and that you’d recover…” Noa trailed off and scratched the side of his head. “I think it flipped a switch or something—I don’t know. But Cameron went from worrying like crazy to shutting down. And then after we dropped him off, Daddy and I talked, and he said, like, Cameron could be afraid to lose you—and I sort of know he is—but Daddy put it in perspective for me. So he’s distancing himself, preparing himself, in case you won’t start taking care of yourself. It’s a trust thing, I guess.”

And so the pain was back. It happened so swiftly and suddenly that it had to be about this and nothing else. I mean, this specific hurt—this very bout of anxiety-laden pain—was all about Cam. Anxiety wasn’t only “in your head.” It could provoke physical responses.

I rubbed at my chest. I guessed I was still new in the world of anxiety.

I wasn’t a fan.

The worry that built up—I couldn’t fucking control it.

 

Deep breaths.

 

Deep, slow breaths.

“Are you okay?” Noa asked worriedly.

 

I’m fine.

 

I’m not fine.

 

I’m fucking drowning.

 

~ * ~ Jen‘s Review ~ * ~

 

About Cara

I’m often awkwardly silent or, if the topic interests me, a chronic rambler. In other words, I can discuss writing forever and ever. Fiction, in particular. The love story—while a huge draw and constantly present—is secondary for me, because there’s so much more to writing romance fiction than just making two (or more) people fall in love and have hot sex.

There’s a world to build, characters to develop, interests to create, and a topic or two to research thoroughly.

Every book is a challenge for me, an opportunity to learn something new, and a puzzle to piece together. I want my characters to come to life, and the only way I know to do that is to give them substance—passions, history, goals, quirks, and strong opinions—and to let them evolve.

I want my men and women to be relatable. That means allowing room for everyday problems and, for lack of a better word, flaws. My characters will never be perfect.

Wait…this was supposed to be about me, not my writing.

I’m a writey person who loves to write. Always wanderlusting, twitterpating, kinking, cooking, baking, and geeking. There’s time for hockey and family, too. But mostly, I just love to write.

Find Cara on social media here: https://www.caradeewrites.com/cdwlandingpage