by Dace Everan
Soldiers of Passion 3
Jariko’s Desires
Jariko Helder is a one man man. That is until Alisha Evens starts strutting her stuff. What's a man to do? His comrade and friend has turned into a sex kitten. If she keeps this up he may give into the sick craving that has developed in the last year regarding her and spanking her eye-catching ass! What will his long-time lover Kyle think of all this? Will he lose Kyle? Will Kyle accept Alisha as their third?
Alisha may have overstepped herself. At the sight of the sexy blond hunk taking up residence in her hunky comrade’s home, her body betrays her and lusts for him. But setting her gaze on Jariko, her body responds just as passionately. Oh goodness, what has she gotten herself into?
Kyle’s dreams have come true! He knew Jariko would find her. His heart is set afire at the sight of the gorgeous woman Jariko has brought home. At the thought of the three of them becoming one.
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length: 21,540 words
JARIKO'S DESIRES
Soldiers of Passion 3
Dace Everan
MENAGE AND MORE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage and More
JARIKO'S DESIRES
Copyright © 2014 by Dace Everan
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62741-816-4
First E-book Publication: June 2014
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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DEDICATION
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
About the Author
JARIKO'S DESIRES
Soldiers of Passion 3
DACE EVERAN
Copyright © 2014
Chapter One
Alisha stared at him straight on and anger seethed through her. She narrowed her eyes and her lip curled in a snarl. Her fist came up, cuffing him on his hard jaw, and he didn’t even flinch! Didn’t even blink an eye. Bastard! How dare he ignore her the way he had and after she had put so much effort into her outfit! She was sure this one would have got him going. But no, Mr. Big Man had to be a good boy and stay away, and then he had the gall to tell her! Tell her to go get dressed and call her a little girl on top of it! Her breath ripped from her lungs in short pants and she was sure those were stars that sparked in her sight. She needed to get the fuck away from him and now. “Fuck you, Jariko Helder! You, you…You scumbag!” She turned on her five-inch stiletto heel, her fists clenched and her mind holding back the piercing pain shooting through her hand. Fuck!
Jariko watched her stomp away. Beautiful tight, toned ass encased in a skin-tight leather skirt. Her thigh-high boots had his dick throbbing, and the deep blue bustier did things to him that he didn’t even recognise. Not ever in all his thirty-eight fucking years had he had this…perverted desire. A desire to take her, shove her down, and fuck…He wanted to slam his hand hard down on that leather-clad ass! He grunted, hands fisting at his side. A man didn’t hit women! He was supposed to love them and protect them. For fuck’s sake, the daydreams he’d had of her heavy tits and fucking those, followed by shooting his spunk over her face. He bet she shaved her pussy. He would devour that and finger-fuck her until she came screaming from his hand and mouth. Then he would shove his sick self on her and fuck her until she came screaming again. He would watch her big tits bounce with every thrust. Her tight, sculpted body tense as it struggled to reach orgasm, as it fought the thousands of emotions tearing their way through her. He growled and tightened his fists further. He turned and glared at the four women sitting quietly in the wooden chairs, their eyes on him. His top lip twitched. Where the fuck was Laird!
Alisha shoved by Laird as he led three men down the hall. The tight grasp on her arm was the only thing to stop her. She came to an abrupt halt and glared up into his pretty-boy face. “What!” she shrieked.
Laird raised a curious eyebrow. “Hello,” he greeted. Eyes on her trying to figure out what had this normally collected woman in such a mood.
Alisha would have felt guilty for being rude, but she was too pissed. That motherfucker Jariko, how dare he call her a harlot! A little girl! “Hello! Assholes back there with the transfer ready to happen.” She yanked her arm from his. “I’ll be at your office tomorrow to hear what Harley has to say.” She turned and strode away, her heels clicking loudly on the worn tiled floor. Her current job was done. Yes, she should be there to make sure the transfer happened w
ithout a problem, but those women were mild mannered compared to what they had thought they would have had to deal with. Harley her lead commander will be happy to know they had retrieved and made the transfer of the androids. Jariko would make sure Laird and his men made the transfer and would make sure to make Laird take care of those women. Jealousy struck her. Her heart crinkled at the thought that Jariko would make sure another woman was taken care of while she was alone and yearning for his stupid ass! Anger filled her further as she exited the old warehouse that was the meeting point. She slammed the heavy metal door with a bang and stomped across the big empty lot and glared at Jariko’s vamped up Harley Davidson. She clenched her teeth and wanted to smack the thing but knew she would only hurt herself. And of course feel guilt later for causing damage to such a beautiful piece of machinery.
Laird looked at his companions before continuing down the hall. “I think Mr. Helder may have pissed the lady off,” he drawled, cringing as he heard the heavy metal doors slam at the entrance of the warehouse. Yes indeed, Mr. Helder had pissed off the lady.
Jon, a friend from Laird’s military past, harrumphed. “Great, he should be a barrel of laughs,” he replied dryly. He knew how it worked. One partner pissed meant the other was just as pissed or even more so.
Laird motioned for them to go ahead. “Let’s get it over and done with. We’ll transport them tonight.” The sooner they had these women in a safe haven the better. Word was they were missing and higher-ups were on the lookout. He kept his gaze forward, but his thoughts were for the three men he had served with. Did they realize how deep they were getting themselves in this? Did they understand the consequences of their actions? Shit, he wasn’t fully sure of the consequences of his own actions. All he knew was the government was doing some bad stuff, and if he could help stop it he was on it. That and Harley was his wife’s best friend and one of the original experiments. If they got wind she was missing in action and knew what she was she could possibly be destroyed or locked up or taken away. There was no way he would allow one of Layle’s friends get hurt like that.
* * * *
Jariko settled onto the bar stool, and a shot of whiskey slid and stopped in front of him. He didn’t look to the body that sat next to him. From the arrogant cologne, he knew it was Laird. His nose twitched. He hated the strong smells. Unlike Alisha’s sweet scent. He believed it was a jasmine scent that wafted from her. His fists clenched in frustration. How the hell had she managed to get to him like this? What had changed in the last few months that all of a sudden he started seeing her as someone else other than a comrade? His lips curled into a smile. Oh yeah, the short skirts, the curled hair, the makeup. Fuck’s sake, that hair, glorious red shimmering strands of silk that he had yearned to run his hands through the last few months. The list could go on in regards to the physical look of her. It was the vibe he got off her lately. The sexuality that seemed to ooze from her every pore. From every look she shot his way. The way she looked at him through half-lidded eyes. All dark and shadowy like she had a secret that he needed to know about. His dick twitched at the thought of the secrets she may have.
“Want to talk about what happened?” Laird asked, taking a sip of his own whisky.
Jariko grunted. He’d rather not talk to this man who was virtually a stranger. Just because Harley, his troop leader, whom he’d followed loyally and without a thought for the last five years of his life, was besties with his wife didn’t mean he had to play that game.
Laird eyed Jariko up and down. He knew his type, Mr. Strong Silent type. “Harley left you and Alisha in my care. While she is absent you are to answer to me or rely on me for any assistance,” he reminded Jariko. His only response was a grunt and Jariko downing the shot of whisky. Laird sighed. “It’s a sipping whisky.” He turned in his seat and watched the people mill about the crowded bar.
Jariko flicked the shot glass and it slid across the shiny bar top and the bartender soon replaced it with another full one.
“The women say you and her were fighting about her apparel?” Laird said, his eyes on the dance floor. A slight grin curled his lips. Maybe he would take Layle dancing next week. She’d been antsy lately, woman needed something to do. His only reply was Jariko grunting again and shooting back the whisky. Laird stayed silent waiting. He would wait all night if he had to. One of Harley’s men was unhappy and he needed someone to talk to. Maybe he should take a different approach. “Alisha did look rather stunning tonight.”
His drink went flying while his back slammed against the bar. Jariko’s face was in his and he had a death grip around his neck. “You go anywhere near her, and I’ll kill you! You hurt Layle that way and I’ll watch her kill you!” he snarled in Laird’s face.
Laird chuckled. “Stop being stupid, I love Layle. I would never ever hurt her. As for Alisha, men can compliment,” he replied.
Jariko released him, grabbing his knapsack from the back of the bar stool and draping it over his left shoulder. He didn’t need to be here and have this man try to counsel him on anything.
Laird straightened out retrieving his wallet tossing a fifty on the bar. He followed Jariko from the loud bar and grabbed hold of him before he managed to get on his motorcycle. “Hold up! Jesus, Jariko, it was a fucking compliment. Don’t be stupid,” he uttered.
Jariko turned on him, shoving him up against the wall. “Leave me alone!” he uttered, giving him a hard shove before stepping back.
Laird released a breath. He was definitely getting too old to be dealing with men like Jariko. He grabbed him by the shoulder and whipped him around, and the palm of his hand pelted Jariko in the sweet spot and he dropped like a rock. He looked down the street to his car, rolling his eyes. Of course he had to carry the bastard now.
* * * *
Layle glanced up from the comfy couch she was nestled on at the sound of the deep groan. She frowned. “What in the hell are you doing with Jariko?” she demanded, standing, hand going to her little baby bump. She crossed to Laird, concern etched on her pretty face at the sight of Jariko hanging off her husband’s shoulder.
Laird grinned. He loved seeing the sight of Layle’s delicate hand on her little tummy that was slowly growing with their child. “He was being stubborn. You get a hold of Alisha?”
Layle nodded. “Holy shit is she in a mood. What happened?” She knew the woman could get moody, but what she experienced tonight was far from moody. That was altogether twisted and so beyond moody. She had never heard a woman so mad and cuss the way Alisha did. And to make no rhyme or reason of what she rambled on about. Layle guessed Jariko had said something stupid and acted stupid and, well, Alisha was pissed.
Laird shook his head. “Have no idea. This one near took me down for complimenting Alisha though.” He chuckled. He had to admit it was refreshing. After the few months of watching these two argue back and forth, seeing Jariko get into a jealous rage was an awesome sight. At least Alisha wasn’t displaying herself for nought.
Layle grinned. “You didn’t?” She tiptoed and pecked him on the cheek looking Jariko over. “Wow he looks exhausted.” She pondered. Or he had himself knocked out by her handsome man.
Laird snorted, shifting the heavy bastard and trying to release the strain on his shoulder. “Try hauling his ass all over the place,” he grumbled. If anyone was tired it was him! Fuck, his pretty little woman should have greeted him at the door on her knees and waited for him. But earlier she had requested a night to herself. He glanced at her with concern in his eyes. She had complained of a tummy ache earlier.
Layle frowned. “Why are you hauling him around?” she asked before her husband could ask her about herself, and she was sure he was about to when the concerned looked crossed his features.
Laird frowned. Exactly! Why was he hauling the bastard around? He hadn’t smacked him that hard. “Motherfucker!” He dropped him and Jariko landed, his eyes opening looking up at the two.
“You, Laird, are an asshole. That fucking hurts,” he grumbled. He g
lanced at Layle. “Evening, Layle,” he greeted, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He looked at Layle in her little frilly nightie and a smile tugged at his lips at the way her hand rested on her still near flat tummy. “Harley’s gonna kill you if you have that before she gets back,” he warned, hauling himself to a sitting position. If he knew anything he knew Harley loved this little Layle, and for her to have a baby without her around would be devastating.
Layle nodded, holding out a hand to help him up. “Come, Jariko, you look like you need a drink.” She helped him to his feet and the two passed Laird. Layle led him to the couch glancing over her shoulder to make sure Laird was getting him a drink. She settled next to Jariko. “So talk,” she ordered. There had to be dirt and good, naughty dirt. She was sure of it. Laird had been telling her tidbits here and there about Alisha’s behavior the last few weeks in Jariko’s presence.
Jariko scoffed. As if he would talk to her!
Layle narrowed her eyes. “What did you say to Alisha to piss her off so bad?” she demanded.
Jariko grunted. He didn’t have to answer to these people. If Alisha had a problem with him she could talk to him directly! Laird handed him a glass of amber liquid. He sniffed it, more whisky. “Are you trying to get me drunk?” he grumbled.
Laird shook his head. “No. Just thought you would like a drink, you and Alisha finished your part. Celebratory drink?” he offered.
