Breached [The Masters Series 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
Page 1
The Masters Series 2
Breached
Andrea Sharp is a reporter seeking an exclusive into the life of a BDSM submissive. Searching for a way into the world of sex, domination, and lust, she is overjoyed when an opportunity opens up. Not thinking about the consequences, she jumps at the chance, only to find out that the lifestyle is more than she bargained for.
Quinton and Justice Hightower are bored. When a beautiful submissive literally falls into their hands, they waste no time agreeing to educate her on what it means to be their submissive. Agreeing on a one-week contract, the brothers start her training immediately, enjoying the pleasures she brings.
When the truth comes out, Andrea must make a choice. Stay and continue her training or leave without the exclusive she came for. With their contract breached, the brothers are left with two options, punish their submissive, or let her go forever.
Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length: 41,764 words
BREACHED
The Masters Series 2
Rebecca Joyce
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
BREACHED
Copyright © 2014 by Rebecca Joyce
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62741-780-8
First E-book Publication: June 2014
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
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DEDICATION
Never give up your dreams. Never stop believing in yourself, and never walk away from your heart’s desires.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
About the Author
BREACHED
The Masters Series 2
REBECCA JOYCE
Copyright © 2014
Prologue
Simple, Tennessee, 2007
The Thirsty Turtle was the place to be seen and tonight all of them were officially legal to be in the bar. Technically that had never stopped any of them before, but tonight was special. Tonight was going to be the last time they were all together for a while, and since all of them knew how precarious life could be, they all wanted to do it right.
“All right, boys, everyone grab your glass,” Garret Riley, the oldest and the leader of this ragtag bunch of misfits, shouted over the loud music.
“Are we ready?” Nate Curt asked looking at his brothers.
“Hell yeah!” Justice Hightower shouted, bumping into his twin brother Quinton.
“Got it, we’re ready!” Casper and Dustin said.
“We’re good to go over here!” Anthony Campanella and Kyle Whetford yelled.
“Okay, Chip. You are officially a man today. So make it a good one,” Garret said lifting his shot glass.
Tonight was a night for celebration.
Their youngest brother Chip Patterson had finally reached legal age. Garret Riley and Zac Phelps had their first assignment with the U.S. Marshal Service that was going to take them away from the only home they knew, all the way to Miami, Florida. While some headed off to college, the rest were staying behind to take care of the farm, and the Hightower brothers, Justice and Quinton, had made it home from a yearlong deployment and were due to ship out again in the morning.
Life was good.
“Whenever you’re ready, dipshit!” Harley Nelson shouted.
“We ain’t got all night, bro,” Adam Lattimere added.
“Yeah, hurry the fuck up, we have a date,” Tic and Tack Young said at the same time.
“Okay! I’ve got it,” Chip shouted, effectively silencing them all.
“Thank God, my mouth was going dry,” Blake Noble muttered.
“Okay, boys, here it goes…Twinkle, twinkle, little star, what are you drinking at the bar? Is it vodka? Is it Jack? Who gives a fuck just knock ’em back!”
Every single one of them stared openmouthed at their youngest brother and groaned. Justice shook his head and groaned as he tipped his glass back, letting the burn of Luther’s moonshine burn its way down. God, he was going to miss this. It wasn’t very often that he and his brothers weren’t fighting and posturing for dominance amongst the group, and after tonight, it would probably never happen again. Especially where they were going. Though Justice refused to think about the situation they’d volunteered for, his twin Quinton couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was going to be their last assignment, and then they were done.
They had agreed.
> “Hit me again!” Chip shouted over the loud music. Justice smiled as Garret dutifully poured the youngest of Momma’s boys another drink. Out of all of them, only four of them were young enough, and lucky enough, to not remember who their real parents were. As for the others, they had the haunting memories of what their lives were never going to be like, or they were thankful for the kindness of the woman who had taken them in.
The Hightower brothers fell into the first group.
They remembered what they’d lost.
The only sons of Major Bishop Hightower and Alice Marie Hightower, the brothers had been twelve when their parents were killed in an embassy bombing in South Africa. It took the state department six months to ship the brothers stateside, and even then, they didn’t know what to do with them. Handing the boys over to state custody, they found themselves shipped from foster home to foster home before they landed in Momma Love’s arms. Through it all they never forgot where they came from or what they wanted. The only problem was that now that they had it, they no longer wanted any part of it.
After joining the military right after high school, they moved up the ranks quickly, and soon became part of an elite group of men, who, when needed, got the job done at all costs. Well, it took a while, but the brothers had learned that everything came at a cost.
At thirty-two years of age, they were tired and just wanted to live the rest of their lives in peace. Their contract with Uncle Sam would be up after this one last mission, and when it ended, they were going to leave and never look back.
Chapter One
Treasure Cove, Montana, Present Day
“We have a busy week ahead of us,” Matthias said bringing the room to order. As the dungeon master for the Pleasure Cave it was his duty to oversee, train, and schedule appointments, sessions, and all extracurricular activities within the club, and to make sure the in-house residents maintained a strict obedience to the rules and regulations of the BDSM lifestyle. It was not easy, but he always got the job done. “Now, boss man is scheduled to return this weekend, so let’s show him that we were capable of running this club without his interference, because I know how you all like having him watching over your shoulder.”
Instantly the room grumbled and coughed.
“Exactly, the man is a micromanaging control freak. So let us do this right so we all can all avoid the Gabriel Sexton lecture. First up, we have the Puppy Fetish group coming in from Missouri. Now, before all of you volunteer, I am letting you know right now, there will not be a repeat of last year’s neutering. There will be no wearing or participating in any of the events. I mean it. I see anyone of you in a costume other than Dom wear you will answer to me. We are strictly observing and monitoring. We will only interfere if or when a scene gets out of control, is that clear?” he said firmly, looking at the room. When all heads nodded, he continued, “Now, who wants to volunteer?”
Instantly everyone raised his or her hand.
Sighing, Matthias shook his head and picked the lesser of the evils. “Jason and Katarina, you two have the Puppy group.”
“Hey, why the kid and her?” Mack Davidson, resident Dom and part-time bartender, asked.
“Her?” Katarina Clark-Kincaid said evilly, turning her head to look at Mack as the rest of the males in the room instantly shifted in their seats, covering their most prized possessions.
Everyone in the room knew three things.
One, the Pleasure Cave was Gabriel’s baby. You fucked with his club, and he would serve your private parts on a silver platter. Two, Matthias was a ballbuster. You fucked up, he would not think twice about whipping your ass back into shape. And three, Katarina Clark-Kincaid was meaner than a sack of rattlesnakes. Oh, and she hated being called “her.”
Before the meeting got ugly, Matthias interrupted. “Because Mistress Katarina doesn’t take any shit off anyone, and the kid needs the experience. So curb your enthusiasm, Mack. I’m assigning you the Nirvana group. They will be here today and staying the whole week.”
“Oh hell no! I am not getting my chakra cleaned, or my aura fixed, and I am definitely not walking around with a bunch of flower-power rejects from the sixties talking about free love! I’m serious, Matthias, those people are nuts, and they don’t believe in BDSM anyways. Why did Gabriel even allow them to come back?”
“Because, they are all participating in the annual club talent show. As a free-spirited love group, their open orgies bring in many customers to the club. They welcome anyone who wishes to participate, and besides, it’s good business,” Matthias informed the sulking Dom. “Now, with the club’s talent show this Friday, I am going to need all of you around. We need to keep an eye on everyone. Your assigned days are being passed around, please do not be late. Finally, Gabriel e-mailed this last night. For the entire week, we are going to have a reporter running around the club.”
Instantly, loud groans filled the room.
“I know, I feel the same way, but boss man has decreed it. A Mr. Andy Sharp is flying in and Gabriel has given him carte blanche to the club. Apparently he is doing an in-depth exposé. Justice and Quinton, boss man wants you two on the reporter. Gabriel wants him given VIP status, which means, you will answer all his questions. You will be respectful and courteous. He is not a member of this club, and from what Gabriel said in the e-mail, he knows nothing about our lifestyle. You will not hook him up, provide entertainment, or find a willing woman to accommodate his needs. He is here to observe and ask questions. That is it. Make him happy but not too happy. If he says jump, you ask me how high, is that clear?”
“Yep, babysitting duty. Got it.” Justice smiled, nudging his brother, who had been asleep through most of the meeting.
“I ain’t deaf, bro,” Quinton, grumbled, yawing, stretching his arms above his head.
“When does he arrive?” Justice asked.
“He should have already checked in. Now, we have a lot going on this week, folks. Let’s do boss man proud.” With that, Matthias adjourned the meeting.
Justice Hightower looked over at his brother and grinned. “I think we got it easy, bro. A simple babysitting job and we are in the clear.”
“Whatever. I am going back to bed. Go find Mr. Curious and tell me how it goes,” Quinton said getting to his feet.
Quinton Hightower wanted nothing to do with the babysitting job. After helping Mack and Katarina last night in the media room, he was beat. He had only hit the sheets an hour before his alarm was blaring at him, telling him to drag his lazy ass out of bed to get to the mandatory Monday meeting. With the meeting over, all he wanted was eight hours of solid sleep and that was exactly what he planned on doing.
Leaving his brother in the lurch was nothing new for him. He knew Justice could handle one nosey reporter. He had just entered the elevator when he heard a female shout, “Hold the door please!” Reaching his hand out, he stopped the doors from closing just as a petite little redhead stumbled in. Quickly letting go of the door, he managed to grab the young woman before she fell.
The top of her small little body barely reached his chest but when she shifted within his arms, her curvy figure molded to his, fitting him like a glove. Her scent was exotic, something he could not place. It was almost like a mix between gardenia and jasmine. It was intoxicating and making his dick harder than a fence post. It had been a long time since a woman riled his senses, and there was something about this little woman that had his libido paying attention.
Slowly releasing her, he kept his hand on her waist, steadying her.
“Thank you.” Her soft voice trailed into his ears, sending a shiver through his body. He barely heard her, but her tone was music to his ears. He knew that tone. Loved that tone.
Submissive.
Watching as she tried to juggle a bag too big for her to carry, he leaned against the elevator wall admiring the beautiful view.
Standing no taller than five four, her flaming red hair fell in waves down her back. The tight jeans she wore accentuated every volupt
uous curve of her bootylicious ass. Quinton’s mouth watered wanting to take a bite. Her shapely legs ended at the smallest pair of sandals he had ever seen, as tiny painted toes peeked out. Her itty-bitty waist was so small he would bet his next paycheck his fingers would touch if they ever wrapped around her. When she turned, Quinton literally had the breath sucked from his body. Her pale skin and full breasts begged to be marked, but it was her sea-blue eyes, that shimmered brightly at him.
She was stunning.
Pushing off from the wall intrigued, he stood tall, his arms crossed against his chest, looking down at her. He could not stop himself. He could tell she had been crying, and something in him wanted so much to comfort her. Exquisite and serene, her body language spoke to him, but it was her gentle smile that undid him. He knew, right then, that she was going to be his next little toy.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you. I can be a little clumsy at times.” She sniffed, looking away, wiping her eyes. He wanted to laugh. Her little body, hurt him? As if.
“You didn’t hurt me. Why are you crying?”
“I haven’t had the best of days. My plane was late getting in, the airlines lost my luggage, and I just found out that the guy I was seeing is a piece of crap,” she informed him as another tear rolled down her face. She was breaking his heart, and she did not even know it.
Stepping closer to her, he noticed she did not move.
“You’re not late.”
“How would you know? I was supposed to be here at eight this morning. When I got here, my room had already been given away. When I went to get another room, my credit card was denied, because the piece of crap I was seeing went shopping last night. I had to call my dad, who is a preacher, for the money. I just spent the last forty-five minutes being lectured on the sins of the flesh. I am tired, my feet hurt, and I just wanna go home. I think I made a mistake about coming here.”