[Ménage Amour: Erotic Consensual BDSM Ménage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, spanking, sex toys, HEA]
Sienna Martin has been training as a private investigator and needs a job, so when her friend Elle has a task in the snowfields, all expenses paid by DJ, the resort owner, what’s not to like? Checking out Steve Prescott and his new nightclub might even be fun. Trouble is, she has to pretend to be Elle, and when Connell Crane, the hot resort manager, thinks he knows things about the real Elle that she doesn’t, things rapidly start to go wrong.
Steve and Connell seemed to be working together, or is Connell about to do a double-cross? Attracted to them both, Sienna is torn. A twenty-five-year-old mysterious death ties them and DJ together, but just how? And when a murder attempt brings the real Elle running, and Sienna gets herself tied up in Steve’s basement just about anything might happen…
A Siren Erotic Romance
4 STARS: "Sienna needs a private detective job, and a resort owner needs a private detective. Of course, Sienna takes the job! However, she is about to realize that there is more to this job than work. Normally, a private detective being tied up and spanked would be a bad thing; however, Sienna may realize that she likes it. Can Sienna solve the ongoing murder mystery and find her inner kink? This is a fast read. The characters are well-developed, and the plot is thick. The sex....wow!" -- Stephanie Rollins, BookreviewsRus.com
She saw him the moment he came in. Not through the front door as she had expected, but out of the kitchens, planting a kiss on one waitress’s cheek and—was he for real?—kissing Amy’s hand. Sienna rolled her eyes. Elle would have loved him. He was wearing an open-necked white shirt that revealed tufts of dark hair and loose baggy trousers that probably cost a fortune. Taking a deep breath, Sienna went up to order another coffee.
As Steve was holding court, no one noticed her for at least a minute. And then it was him who looked up and grinned at her. She couldn’t believe it. He had dimples. Honest to God dimples and eyes to drown in.
“More coffee?” asked Amy.
Sienna nodded, eyes focused on Prescott. She had wanted his attention. Seemed like she now had it but how best to leverage it?
“You’re Steve Prescott,” she said, finally remembering her lines.
“The one and only, around here at least,” he said. “And you are?”
She meant to say Elle O’Grady. But some sixth sense at the last minute stopped her. Maybe it was remembering Connell’s flinch, or just realizing that there was no advantage at this moment to being her friend who moved in dubious circles. “Sienna Martin. I saw your photo somewhere.” She frowned. “Can’t remember where.”
Steve picked up the coffee Amy had poured, and his own, came from behind the counter, and guided her to a table.
“Skied here before?”
“Ah, not exactly.” Sienna smiled the dumbest cutesiest smile she could manage. To her annoyance Steve’s eyes look liked they glazed over. “It wasn’t a photo,” she said suddenly. “I’ve seen you somewhere. A nightclub maybe?”
“Oh really?” He was now looking around and she felt she had about five seconds before she lost him. “Which one?”
Sienna’s mind went blank. She really wouldn’t have made it as an actress. What were those clubs called? “Half Moon,” she blurted out. It had been the only one that had sounded interesting. The others had names like The Flea Pit.
The change was immediate. Steve turned and looked at her, really looked at her, and smiled. He fished a card out of his pocket and handed it to her. “If you get bored come and join us, any night from eight p.m.” Then he kissed her hand and left her shaking. It was only after she had taken several deep breaths that she managed to look at the card. Black with the picture of a woman’s red fishnet-clad leg in a very high silver heel. Written next to it was “High Towers” and a Dinner Plains address. What on earth had she just got herself invited to?
* * * *
It was a beautiful day and, remembering that at the end of her one-week skiing she had been able to mostly stay upright, it made her wish she could afford to ski. Maybe a one-day pass. Right now what Sienna needed to do was find out more about Prescott. The obvious person to try was Connell. Just how to go about it?
She found his office and unlike managers in the city there was no officious secretary barring the door. He was at his desk on the phone and looked harassed.
“No.” Silence followed as, unobserved, Sienna watched him frown and write something. “I can’t do it.” More silence. “Okay, won’t do it. It’s too dangerous. Look, can we talk about this when we meet? There’s a lot at stake.”
Sienna listened with interest. Might be nothing, but then again… Connell’s head suddenly shot up and looked directly at her. His expression suggested it wasn’t “nothing.” In fact rather giddily she wondered if he had been talking about her. He looked guilty! She smiled, a slightly less dumb version of the one she’d used unsuccessfully on Steve. It had better effect, either for the change of man or the modification.
“Yeah, speak to you then.” Connell put the phone down and smiled at her. He looked so guileless she wondered if she had imagined everything else. “Can I help you?”
“I sure hope so,” said Sienna, leaning against the door, trying to channel—was it Marlene Dietrich? Someone like that who had been her birth month’s “Old Flames” calendar picture. Connell laughed, but there was a stilted feel to the sound. “Okay you’d better come in, Ms O’Grady.”
He had remembered. She blushed but was pleased nevertheless, even if wasn’t her right name. Or was it just because he knew something about the real Elle?
“I was hoping you could help me,” she said.
Connell lay back in his chair, expression inscrutable.
“I am doing an article for Cosmopolitan,” Sienna said, noticing a flicker of—disbelief? “On the social scene in the snow fields. You seem to know your way around. I’m after some advice.”
For a moment she thought he was going to throw her out. Then, unexpectedly, Connell burst out laughing. She probably would have known how to deal with the first possibility better. As it was, she stared at him awkwardly.
“Er…did I say something wrong?”
“Ms O’Grady quite the contrary. I thought… Well, never mind. The social scene you say?” Connell’s eyes twinkled. “Just what would you like to know?”
It was tempting just to ask for the low down on Prescott and be done with this whole farce, but she didn’t know what the relationship between the two was, didn’t know why he had laughed, who he had been talking to, what he had been thinking or anything about what was dangerous and at stake. No, she’d have to keep playing this game until the end of the week.
“Tell us what you think of my sub,” said Steve, hand wandering over her breast from where he must have been standing at the back of her chair.
“Perfect.” It was, Sienna was sure, Connell. And there was a degree of awe in his tone. She didn’t doubt for a moment that he meant what he had said, and the knowledge gave her confidence. She relaxed just a little, enough to think of Connell taking her and how good it would feel.
“I think we need to see more of her though, don’t you?”
“Every little bit,” replied Connell without hesitation.
“Then I’d like you to remove her clothes.”
Sienna wondered how on earth they could do that with her manacled. She didn’t have to wait long to find out. The softness of the feathers was suddenly contrasted with cold metal at her breast bone and with a flick she realized Connell had sliced through her bra.
“That was expensive!” she protested before she remembered she wasn’t allowed to speak.
“And I will replace that and more,” said Steve. “But I will also have to punish you for speaking out of turn.”
She felt him leaning over her, and he took her nipples in his teeth, suddenly biting one while pinching the other. The initial pain eased almost immediately, the predominant thought in her mind one of longing for one of them to remove her panties so they could touch her, take her any way they wanted so long as they entered her and became one.
She didn’t have to wait long for the panties to be dispensed with. The blade of the knife lay cold against her skin, then after a flick on either side, she could feel Connell slowly pulling the material away from her, leaving her naked and exposed before him. She heard him gasp.
“She has a beautiful pussy, does she not?”
“What would you like to do to her, Connell?”
“What do you think, Sienna Martin?” Steve asked. “Would you like to be fucked?”
“If you’re good, perhaps I will allow that but I don’t think you’ve done enough to deserve it yet.”
Sienna heard him walking around the chair. She wondered what he was doing, what he was capable of doing. She was certain…almost certain he would check with her first. Give her the chance to use the safe word. But what would he ask?
“I rather think,” said Steve, “I would like you to suck Connell’s cock. Do you think you could do that to thank him for saving your life?”
Sienna would have happily sucked Connell’s or Steve’s cock, with or without the near-death experience.
“I’m going to lay the chair back,” said Steve, and she braced herself as the chair creaked and she felt the back reclining, the arm rests moving with it. A hand brushed over her face, then she felt lips on hers. There was a softness, a tentative gentle exploration. Connell. She sank into the kiss, wanting this man and no longer trying to make sense of how she could want two men at once, why this felt so right.
“I didn’t just want to kiss you the first time I saw you,” whispered Connell. She heard him stand, then with his hand guiding the tip of his cock into her mouth.
“Lick him,” said Steve. “He wants you, and if you’re both really good, I might allow him to have you, but first I am going to taste your juices.”
Sienna licked the sweet cum from Connell’s cock and then put her mouth around the tip, sucking at first gently and then harder. Underneath the chair she could sense movement and gasped when she felt fingers opening her lips, and Steve’s tongue lapping at her cunt. As she sucked and licked, so did he, and waves of pleasure moved through her. Steve’s mouth alternated, teeth then fingers finding her clit and rubbing harder as she, too, worked harder on Connell’s cock. The blindfold curiously allowed her to focus completely, both on their enjoyment as well as hers. Her pleasure began to rise, but just as it did, Steve pulled back.
“What would you like, Sienna Martin?”
“To come,” she replied, her body craving release.
“Well, if you do that, I will spank you rather hard. Unless I tell you that you can, of course.”