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.
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Excerpt
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.
About
The Author
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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with Claire
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