Kari And Brett Pt 08

A Rose Called Miracle: Book #3, Pt. 8

Author's Note: This is the third book of 'A Rose Called Miracle'. This is fiction. All characters in intimate situations are over 18. Any resemblance to real people, organizations, or businesses is purely coincidence.

If you are uncomfortable with the subjects of control, restraint, discipline, and mild corporal punishment, please go no further. Likewise, this story is peopled with hetero, interracial, and LGBTQ+ characters and couples, and indirectly--incest; if you can't deal with that, leave now--you'll only be offended. Also, I apologize to BDSM aficionados--in this story I pretty much ignore proper BDSM safety measures as the characters develop their relationship. Please do not use these writings as a 'how to' guide. Lastly, if anyone reading 'A Rose Called Miracle' has enjoyed my characters, feel free to take them on new adventures--but please don't mess too much with the canon.

BRETT AND KARI (A Master/slave story of Love and Loss)

**There are two ways to live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle. Albert Einstein

**For those who are willing to make an effort, great miracles and wonderful treasures are in store. Isaac Bashevis Singer

CHAPTER 31

I wandered back to our bedroom, yawning. I heard the shower running; something seemed different in the room. I realized, at last, that my darling husband had already attached my new cuffs to the four corners of the bed. I hoped he wouldn't be too disappointed. Tonight, though, I was simply too tired, and too sore to play.

He came out of the bath with just a towel wrapped around his waist. "Your turn." He announced. "You still have your shoes on?"

I nodded and held up one of my legs to show him the lock. "I see. And where are the keys?"

"In your bedside table...top drawer."

"Why there?"

"I was planning to let you unlock me, then seduce you into mind-blowing sex. But after the party, I'm simply too sore and tired..." I shrugged.

Brett smiled, "It looks like your plan backfired."

"Yeah. Some other night I guess. Hey! Will you grab the key and get me out of these things so I can shower and get some sleep?"

"Love to." Brett and I both yawned widely. He got the key and undid the tiny locks securing the ankle straps on my shoes. I sighed with pleasure as he slipped off the shoes and rubbed a little life back into my aching feet. I glanced quickly at his towel; he didn't show even a hint of arousal.

I stripped and climbed into the shower. When I finished, I dried myself and put on moisturizer. I wrapped up in a towel and returned to the bedroom. Brett was sitting in the lounge chair. "I didn't want to fall asleep without saying goodnight."

I crawled up onto the bed, disposing of the towel. Brett walked around to his side. "I noticed you've already hooked up my restraints..." I commented.

"Yeah. I wondered what they'd look like." He stretched broadly. "You forgot to take off the towel on your hair." He remarked. I quickly yanked it off and tossed it on the floor. I raked my fingers through my mane.

"Hey Brett? Would you do me a favor?"

"Anything Babe. What?"

"Since the restraints are already set up. Would you put me in them--just for a couple minutes so I can see what they feel like?"

"Yeah. Okay." He rolled to his left and straddled my chest. He picked up my left hand and slipped the fur-lined cuff around it. He secured the cuff, but didn't lock it. He repeated the process on my right hand, then turned to work on my ankles. I don't know if he did it on purpose, but when he turned I had an up-close view of his tautly muscled bottom. Yum. Lucky for him my hands were already restrained.

When he finished with my feet, he climbed back onto his side of the bed and pulled up the comforter. "How do they feel?"

"Good. Nice and Soft, very comfortable. At least for this trial you didn't stretch me too far...I can move a bit. You can release me when you're ready."

"SNRRRK!"

"Brett!"

"SNRRRK!" He snorted again.

I nudged him with my left knee, "Brett, Honey, I'm still tied up." He responded by rolling onto his left side and pulling up the comforter.

"Well...shoot." I whispered (or words to that effect). "Brett!" I called out one last time but got no response--at least by turning on his side he wasn't snoring now.

I had to laugh at myself, "Kari, how DO you get yourself into these situations?" I looked around. I don't know why I bothered; it was dark and I couldn't see anything. Anyway, my poor Brett was tired and he deserved to sleep. I'd asked him to secure me, and I wasn't terribly uncomfortable. Maybe I'd just relax and rest my eyes for a couple minutes...

I felt something tickle my left nipple. I reached quickly to brush away whatever it was...and almost dislocated my shoulder when my arm was jerked to a stop by the cuffs I still wore. I cracked open an eye and found our bedroom bathed in bright sunlight. I also found my husband stretched out and gently sucking on my nipple.

"Having fun?" I asked.

"Good morning Love. You're awake, naked, and tied to a bed; How do you get into these situations?"

"I was asking myself that exact question last night...after my loving husband secured me to the bed and then fell asleep on me." I looked for some sign of regret; didn't see any. "And he snored like a damn chainsaw!" I whined. "Brett, how about unhooking me so I can go to the bathroom?"

"Did I really snore?"

"Yes. Please, I need to go."

"Nah. I think I'll leave you restrained for a while.

"Brett! If you don't hurry I'm going to wet the bed."

"I don't care. You're on your side of the mattress."

I groaned, "Okay, Okay. You win. Master, this slave lied, you do not snore." I caved. I really did need to pee.

"Thank you." He quickly unbuckled my cuffs and I raced to the bathroom. When I finished, I brushed my teeth and brushed my hair. I wiped myself with a washcloth before returning to the bedroom.

I found Brett waiting, "I'm really sorry about falling asleep on you last night. I feel awful."

I went over and plopped myself in his lap; kissed his brow, kissed his nose, kissed his lips. "No need to apologize Brett. Honestly, if I'd seriously wanted to get loose, I'd have found a way to wake you up. Plus, I bet if I really wanted to, I could have easily slipped out of my wrist restraints."

"Does that mean you'll want to sleep like that every night?" Brett looked a little worried.

"No, Dear." I kissed him again. "Last night was a not unpleasant 'accident'. But for now, I'd rather just sleep with one ankle restrained. By the way, what time is it?"

"Just after 9:30. Ready for breakfast?"

"I am." Brett lifted me up and set me on my feet. I donned a pair of yoga pants, a t-shirt, and sandals, then left the bedroom for the kitchen. I discovered Valerie just coming out of her bedroom still wearing the clothes from the night before.

"Morning, Mom. What time did you guys get back last night?"

"A little after 2:30."

"Did you have a good time?"

"We did. I even won a prize during the slave treasure hunt."

"Wow! What did you win?"

"I don't know. Your father won't show me until we're at work tomorrow."

"That's evil. By the way, Mom, how did I get to bed last night? The last thing I remember was laying down on the sofa in the living area."

I smiled, "Your father and I tried to wake you, but you wouldn't budge. So we carried you into your room."

"Oh. Thanks. Is breakfast ready?"

"I just got up. Let's go put something together. Any preferences?"

"Coffee!"

"Make it two." Damn, Brett had sneaked up on me again. "Good morning Valerie. Sleep well?"

"I did, Dad. Thanks for taking me to bed." I snorted and almost dropped the coffee carafe. Brett started laughing. Valerie looked at us like we were crazy; then she blushed bright pink, "Mom, Dad, I'm sorry. Jeez, that didn't come out the way I meant it."

The coffee was ready by the time Brett and I stopped laughing. Valerie, still red, made toast while I prepared and served scrambled eggs. I had just taken a bite of toast when Valerie suddenly dropped her fork onto the plate. "Oh man! I totally forgot!"

"What is it Sweetie?" I turned to her.

"Siara Åberg called last night, right after you left. The house is ready. She says we can start moving in any time we want to."

I stared at Brett; he stared at me. "Well? What are we waiting for?" Valerie demanded. "Get packed and let's get going!" She started reaching for our plates and cups.

"Whoa! Hold it young lady!" Brett demanded, "Let your mom and I finish breakfast." He stopped to chew a forkful of eggs--then said, 'to hell with it' and wrapped everything between two slices of toast and left the table.

I gulped down my coffee and asked Valerie to help me clean and sort out the kitchen; pack what was ours and put away what belonged to the hotel. We had the kitchen spotless and organized in less than an hour. Most of our stuff was food; almost all the utensils stayed with the hotel.

Satisfied, I moved our stuff out by the main door, then headed for the bedroom to pack. I found Brett coming out and closing his phone. "Bellhops will be up in a little while to help us move our things down. I've already called Solo and told him we're moving today. He said he'd coordinate with our security detail."

"Okay. The kitchen's all set; I'd better get to packing."

Brett pulled me to him and kissed me, "Just think, in a couple hours we'll be in our own place. It seems like forever doesn't it?"

"Mmm. Kiss me again."

We returned to the bedroom to pack, and quickly realized we didn't have sufficient luggage. Brett called the concierge again and asked if they could spare some boxes. Ten minutes later someone knocked on our door. It was one of the security guys wanting to know if we were expecting the boxes. When I told him we were, he yelled down the hall to his partner that it was okay and to let the guys with the boxes out of the elevator.

It didn't take us long to fill them; then again we didn't have all that much to fill them with. We were ready 30 minutes before the bellhops arrived with their carts. They took one look at the pile of waiting bags and boxes and they called downstairs and requested another cart to help us get down to the garage in one trip.

We stopped at the main desk. Our piles of boxes drew amused stares from some of the other guests. Brett handed over a credit card to cover the extra charges we'd accumulated: laundry, room service, and meals at the restaurant, etc..

We got down to the garage; our security detail quickly checked our vehicles and then helped us and the bellhops divide the load between Brett's truck and MY Defender 110. I heard a plaintive 'meow' from the back of my SUV. I saw a black and white paw sticking out of the carrying crate. Valerie laughed and jumped out of the vehicle and went to the back and got the crate. She came back and got in, "Damn Mom, these guys are growing fast." She laughed as she tickled Nick's paw. "Just a little while, guys, and you'll have a whole house and yard to play in."

One of the security guys approached my window, "Mrs. Noonan? Mr. Street insists we ride with you and your husband. Would you like me to drive?"

"Not a chance! Val, Sweetie, why don't you hop in back and put the cats on the seat. Sir? You can ride shotgun."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Valerie simply grimaced as she got out and moved back. I saw Brett's truck backing out so I followed.

"Miss?" The security guy turned to address Valerie, "May I suggest you strap in the pet carrier. It is much safer for them."

We'd been driving for perhaps 15 minutes. It was quiet. Valerie teased the cats. I just followed Brett's truck. The security guy kept his eyes moving. His phone rang and he answered, "Yes sir...Yes sir...I will." He hung up.

"Mrs. Noonan, Miss Noonan? That was Mr. Street he asked me to ensure that you each remembered to bring your personal weapons?"

"Yes." I answered.

Valerie placed her left hand on the console, her thumb on the little red light; her Glock 19 slid out of its hiding place into her palm--have I mentioned that Valerie is also left-handed? "Yes." Valerie answered with a grin. "And loaded. So don't try any funny stuff." She grinned again as she slipped the weapon back into place in the console.

"Excellent. I promise I'll behave." Replied our guard.

We left the city-proper and worked our way through an area of gated communities before we encountered the beginnings of forested areas. Shortly after that we arrived at our new home. I parked my SUV in front of the main door to make unloading easier.

I got out and stared. Our new home was beautiful, and even though I'd seen it before I still had to repress the urge to pinch myself and make sure I wasn't dreaming. Brett came over and put an arm around my shoulder. "Everything okay?" He asked.

"Perfect. It's good to be home."

"Come on everyone, let's start getting things inside." Brett shouted. Valerie hopped out of the SUV carrying the cat crate. I could see two pink noses poking through the screen. Brett tossed her the house key, "Go ahead and open the door Valerie. Mom and I will be right up." He grabbed my hand and led me up the walkway and steps.

"Let me grab a box." I insisted.

"That can wait. There's something else I've been waiting to do. Valerie! Hold the door, please." He wrapped one arm around my shoulders and the other under my knees and lifted me off the ground. I craned my neck and kissed his cheek. I was beginning to enjoy having my husband carry me around. "Welcome home My Love." Brett whispered as we passed over the threshold.

"You two look good," Valerie smirked, "How about we get to work and get the stuff inside?"

I frowned at Valerie as Brett released me. I kissed Brett, lingering just a bit to annoy our daughter. Then we started moving in our things. As we stepped back outside, a black SUV pulled into our parking area. Our two guards met it. It Turned out to be Solo and ex-detective Swanson...'Solo and Swanson' I thought, 'Sounds like partners in a detective mystery.'

"Brett! Kari! What a wonderful house!" Ms. Swanson enthused with her arms spread. "I'm so jealous!"

"Have you two done a survey yet?" Solo asked our two guards.

"No sir. Just got here." The older of the two answered.

"Well stop gawking and get to work!" He handed a clipboard to our guards and sent them off. Solo turned to Brett, "You lucky sons-of-guns, how did you ever find this place? Any chance we can look inside?"

"Absolutely." Brett answered. "Go ahead in. We'll be right behind you." Solo and Swanson headed inside while Brett, Valerie, and I, each grabbed a box and started moving our stuff. It took five trips to get everything piled into the great room, which was pretty sad when you considered the size of the house compared to how little we had to bring with us.

"God! I love that chandelier," Swanson commented. The ugly deer antler monstrosity was gone; replaced by a black and gold item, that looked as if it was made from lace--but was really wrought iron. The pictures Siara Åberg had sent did not do it justice.

Solo walked over to the window looking out over the parking area. He rapped it with his knuckles. "Ouch!" He unlocked the window and slid it open. He reached under and tapped the window more carefully from both sides. "Huh? Brett, Kari, did you know the windows are bulletproof?"

As if on cue, Solo's phone rang, "Yes?" He listened. "Don't let them out of the car. I'll be right out." He turned to Brett, "Someone just pulled into the driveway. We're checking it out." Solo went out; Swanson stayed with us.

Swanson's phone rang after just a minute or so. "Yes? Good. I'll get the door." She turned to me, "The original owner of the house just arrived. He wants to say hello and brief you on a few things he didn't reveal to the realtor."

Solo escorted the gentleman in. He was about Brett's age, a little shorter and chubbier, thinning brown hair. He was smiling. "Hi. I'm Simon Walen." We shook hands. He looked around, "I see you already got rid of that damn antler chandelier. God, I don't know how I let my wife and the decorator con me into that thing." He laughed.

"It is a beautiful house. It must have hurt to sell it?" I offered.

"Thanks. Yeah, it hurt. But after a bad divorce and a run of really bad luck, bad decisions, and bad advice, my only option was to part with it."

"I'm sorry."

"No. Don't be. I knew what I was doing...I just didn't..." He paused and smiled sadly. "Anyway, the realtor let me know you were moving in today. There are a few hidden features of the house you should know about." He glanced at Solo and Swanson. "Privately."

"Is one of the features the bulletproof windows?" Solo asked pointedly.

"Ah! You've noticed. Very good. Yes, that's just one feature."

"This is Mr. Street and Ms. Swanson. They manage our security arrangements." Brett added. "They should know everything."

Over the next hour Mr. Walen showed, or described, all the security precautions: the two concealed panic rooms; a concealed vault for an armory (or other valuables)--emptied when he left; two escape tunnels; and a state-of-the-art alarm system (Solo was impressed). Also, although the house was connected to the electric grid, we had a large dual fuel generator capable of carrying the full load for 14 days, and as if that wasn't enough we had a solar field and storage batteries that could keep us going indefinitely. Finally, as he prepared to leave, Mr. Walen stopped, "Oh yeah. One other thing I forgot to mention is that this is most definitely NOT a simple log home. All the walls of this place are 2" steel plating, faced with logs sawn in half. Nothing short of an artillery barrage will penetrate this place. I hope you enjoy the house. Goodbye." He took off after another round of handshakes.

Solo ripped a few pages out of his notebook, crumpled them, walked over to the giant stone fireplace, and tossed them in. "What was that?" Brett asked as Solo returned.

"My suggestions to harden your home. We won't need them. Might as well use them to start a fire. Now, let's get your alarm system coded." He opened the panel, "Ah! Mr. Walen had good taste. The house has a top-of-the-line system and is already connected to Spencer Security. Jesus! What was this guy scared of? Hey Bren?" He turned to Ms. Swanson.

"Yeah?"

"I want a background done on our Mr. Walen. Let's see what he was into. Okay, Brett and Kari, let's get your pass code set up and Bren and I will leave you to your unpacking. I don't want to see any birthdates or anniversaries or Fibonacci sequences...this ain't The DaVinci Code."

Brett jotted down 19-03-12-07-83, "Is this random enough?" He asked Solo.

"Do they mean something?"

"As a sequence--no; however, some of the numbers mean something."

"Okay. Punch it in." Brett entered the number; then Solo made us all practice until we had it memorized.

"What if I get it wrong?" I whispered to Ms. Swanson.

"Expect armed visitors from Spencer Security." Solo interrupted. "Remember, once a door opens, you'll have 60 seconds to enter the proper code. If it blinks green, you're good. If it blinks red, do it again. You get three tries, after that it glows solid red--expect an armed response. Oh, one last thing and then Bren and I will get out of your hair. This is a great security system; the best available to the public; but it only works if you remember to activate it. Okay?"

"Okay." Three chastened Noonans replied as one.

"Great. I'll be seeing you around." He turned, then stopped and looked over his shoulder. "By the way, Mrs. Noonan, Ms. Spencer asked me to ask you how you liked your SUV?"

I grinned, "I Love it! Thank you." Solo and Swanson walked away. Ms. Swanson waved goodbye as they walked away.