M/M/F ménage - What’s the old adage—sex ruins
friendship? When best friends Cassidy and Ian give in to their conflicted
passion, Ian pulls back. Cassidy, heart breaking, lets him. Enter Kye
McClellan, the sexy Scotsman who heats things up to the boiling point. The sex
is scorching hot, but can three hearts truly beat as one?
Cassidy fights the lingering feelings for her ex,
Ian. Still secretly, desperately in love with him, she settles for sharing a
house and a business. Their lives are intertwined in every way--except the way
she wants most.
Fear of commitment drove Ian to push their romance
into the friendship zone. But things become decidedly uncomfortable when sexy
Scotsman Kye McClellan enters the picture. Ian is faced with the sudden
prospect of losing the thing most precious to him.
As both Cassidy and Ian succumb to Kyes charms,
Cassidy begins to wonder if she can have all she's ever wanted...plus one.
Then, just as things get white-hot, Kyes takes to his feet to avoid the burn.
Ian and Cassidy are left with each other...and an even bigger missing piece
than before. All they can do is trust that love will somehow bring their
gypsy-hearted lover home again.
She
looked down at his large hand covering hers. Her arm tingled as she imagined
him sliding those fingers along her skin, moving upward toward her shoulder.
Her nipples were erect and probably showing through the thin material of her
lacey bra and tank top. She pulled her hand from beneath his and crossed her
arms over her chest.
She thought suddenly about
the condition of the house, about the disarray in the huge living room they’d
commandeered for Ian’s studio and her work area. They were both so focused on
getting the business up and running, neither had the time nor the inclination
to do much housekeeping. Despite their best intentions, though most of the
boxes were unpacked, pictures had yet to be hung and there were no curtains on
the windows.
Oh well. There were worse things than a messy house.
Somehow she didn’t think Kye would mind too much. The spare bedroom was clean.
It just needed sheets on the bed.
Though she hadn’t intended
to pry, she found herself saying, “So it was an amiable split? No broken
hearts?”
Kye shrugged. “Maybe
cracked a bit. In retrospect, I guess it was just one of those flings—you know,
you connect with people when you’re traveling in a more immediate way than you
would otherwise. Sometimes when people return to their home turf, they realize
they were just kidding themselves. They return to ‘the real world’, I guess
you’d say. I apparently was not part of that real world.”
He looked so sad she
wanted to lean over and hold him. Why were things always such a mess when it
came to relationships? Inwardly she sighed, thinking of her own confusion and
longing when it came to love. Aloud she said, “Was she American?”
“Actually it wasn’t a
she,” Kye answered, his cheeks dimpling. “It was a guy.”
Gay? Had she misread his cues, comments and body
language so completely? Cassidy’s stunned reaction must have shown on her face.
“Not what you were expecting to hear, I’m guessing?”
“No, it’s not that, I
mean, well, yes.” Cassidy struggled to recover. “I usually have a pretty good
read on that sort of thing.”
Kye again put his hand
over hers, his touch warm and firm. “Your read was quite accurate. It just so
happens I’m attracted to men as well. That’s not so unusual, is it? You give me
the impression of someone who’s open-minded about such things.”
“Yeah. I’m totally cool
with it.” In fact she wasn’t sure what she was with it, at least in regard to
him. What was her problem? Had she already planned to seduce the guy, when on
the surface they had only bartered business advice for a bed?
Yeah, she admitted, she
had. She could almost feel his hard, strong body covering hers, her nipples
mashed beneath his chest, her sex soaked with desire as he eased himself into
her heat…
Kye shook her out of her
mini-fantasy. “Would you like another beer?”
Forcing the fantasy from
her mind, Cassidy glanced at her watch. It was already after eight. “I hadn’t
realized it was so late. Say, have you had dinner yet?” When he shook his head
no, she continued. “I was going to stop and pick up some tamales. Then I could
take you home and introduce you to Ian.”
“Sounds like a plan,
though I have no idea what tamales are.”
Cassidy grinned. “Then
you’re in for a treat. Do you want to follow me?”
“I’d have to run awfully
fast, I’m afraid. I have no car.”
“No car in Houston? How do
you get around?”
“I’ve only been here a few
weeks. Until today I didn’t need one.”
Cassidy sensed the subject
was a sore one. “No problem. You can come with me.”
As they left the bar,
Cassidy could feel the eyes of some of the regulars on her. She waved toward
some gay friends of hers, George and Paul, who waved back. George, who was
always telling her what a great catch Ian was and how foolish she was not to
ensnare him, lifted a thumb approvingly into the air. She fervently hoped Kye
hadn’t seen the gesture.
Kye put his few
possessions in the back of Cassidy’s car and climbed into the passenger seat
beside her as she started the engine. She pulled out of the parking lot,
wondering what the hell had gotten into her. Picking up a stranger, taking him
in her car, bringing him home to Ian? Was she certifiably insane? Yet she
didn’t feel panicked, nor did she really question the decision, though
admittedly it wasn’t like her to bring someone she’d just met home.
Instinctively she knew she could trust this man. There was something about him
that put her at ease, once she got past his devastatingly good looks.
They picked up tamales,
enchiladas and refritos, and a six-pack of beer to go with it, before heading
home. Kye insisted on paying.
Cassidy pulled into the driveway
of the old house, with its sagging wrap-around porch and small yard, the grass
of which was in desperate need of cutting, bright yellow dandelions peeking
here and there through the green. She was embarrassed at the place’s bedraggled
appearance.
She turned to offer her
excuses, but Kye beat her to it. “What a fantastic old house. I love all
the turrets and towers. This must be one of the older houses in Houston. This
is really yours?”
The admiration was evident
in his voice, and Cassidy’s embarrassment was replaced, or at least mitigated,
by pride. “Yeah. Well, the mortgage is ours.” She flashed a rueful grin. “It
was a foreclosure and we got it for an incredible deal. It’s still a hefty
monthly payment though. Sometimes I think we rushed into it.”
“This house will return
its investment tenfold, you can count on it. You made the right decision. It’s
a sound old place, I’m willing to bet. A few nails and a bit of paint will
smarten it up nicely. Have you got a lawn mower?”
“Yes, though I guess you
wouldn’t know it from the looks of the lawn. That’s Ian’s job but he’s been so
busy…”
“That I can well
understand. Perhaps in the morning I can give the yard a quick mow. I wouldn’t
mind a bit. I like to be occupied.”
“Oh, I couldn’t ask you—”
“And nor did you. I
offered.”
They climbed out of the
car and walked to the front door. She opened the door, calling, “Hi, Ian. I’m
back. I brought Mexican food and a new friend. Come out and meet him.” She held
her breath, waiting for Ian to appear. What was she nervous about? Kye wasn’t
her date, and anyway she didn’t need Ian’s permission to bring someone home.
After a moment Ian came
into the large front hall, running his hands through his short blond hair so
that it stood on end, making him look like he’d just woken up. It was a habit
he had when he had been concentrating on something for a long time and was
trying to return to the world, as he termed it. She had always found the
gesture endearing, and her heart lurched at the sight of him.
“Ian. This is Kye McClellan.
He’s visiting from Scotland.”
A flicker of a scowl
crossed Ian’s face though it was quickly replaced by a pleasant smile. They
moved toward one another and shook hands. She knew Ian was wondering if the
term friend was code for lover.
I've been writing for nearly two decades, and have
published over 60 novels. I write BDSM romance and non-con abduction tales,
spanning both m/f and m/m genres. My love affair is with all things D/s
(Dominance/submission). My work began as a romantic exploration of the BDSM
life style, and then veered somewhat to the darker side of fantasy. I love
delving into the dark psyche of a twisted mind, and gaining insight into what
might motivate such a person to do what they do. I don't create all black and
white villains and heroes, but rather strive to develop real, complex and
flawed human beings. I don't want to simply provide an erotic thrill or
evocative description. I seek not only to tell a story, but to come to grips
with, and ultimately exalt in the true beauty and spirituality of a loving
exchange of power. My darker works press the envelope of what is erotic and
what can be a sometimes dangerous slide into the world of sadomasochism.
Ultimately my work deals with the human condition, and our constant search for
love and intensity of experience.
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