Dirty Pleasures [Pleasure, Montana 10] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
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Pleasure, Montana 10
Dirty Pleasures
Ceci Armstrong has a secret that is eating away at her. Her actions cost a man his life, and now she must live with her cowardliness. She never would have returned to Pleasure, Montana to be with her family and lick her wounds had she known she’d be thrown into her sister Brooke’s drama involving a drug lord. Her best friend is kidnapped, and Elite Detective Services assigns two hot detectives to keep Ceci safe. Not wanting to hurt anyone again, she ices her heart to keep her distance. Too bad they stir a passion in her she can’t deny, but fears if she confides in them about what happened, they’ll hate her for sure.
Gabe Henderson and Dylan Jacobs love the sexy blonde’s strength and resilience, but they know she’s hiding something. What can they do to free her from her demons and bring her into their loving ménage world?
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys
Length: 58,600 words
DIRTY PLEASURES
Pleasure, Montana 10
Melody Snow Monroe
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
DIRTY PLEASURES
Copyright © 2013 by Melody Snow Monroe
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62740-604-8
First E-book Publication: September 2013
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2013 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
To the wonderful Peyton Elizabeth and Lara Valentine.
DIRTY PLEASURES
Pleasure, Montana 10
MELODY SNOW MONROE
Copyright © 2013
Chapter One
Dylan Jacob’s partner, Gabe Henderson, eased over to him with a beer in his hand, finally looking relaxed now that the drug lord was about to stand trial for murder. It was about damned time, too. Their co-owners at Elite Detective Services were hosting this get together in celebration of the momentous event as well as in recognition of all the twenty-four hour shifts they’d endured before Riley and Gavin captured the scum sucker. Even after two months, Dylan’s thirty-three-year-old body hadn’t quite recovered from sleeping in the van all those nights on a too-short, hard mattress.
Gabe nodded toward the cluster of women giggling on the sofa. “You think Ceci will show?”
She was the woman they’d protected during the ordeal. “I hope so.”
While the madman had targeted her, it was her best friend who’d been kidnapped by mistake. All during those tense times, Ceci kept muttering she wished they’d taken her instead of Sarah.
He and Gabe had only spoken a few times to her since the event, mostly to see how she was holding up, but they never asked her out as they both felt—okay, he believed—that she needed time to sort through her feelings. Trauma had a way of fucking with the mind, making a person question right from wrong, and deciding whether to change priorities.
Gabe shook his head. “Maybe she doesn’t want to relive the nightmare. Hell, the second she steps in this room with everyone involved in the case, she might remember what it was like to be cooped up in a house with two strangers.”
That would be them.
“She’s had time. Besides, she’s a survivor.” Dylan had seen her steely resolve shine through under the intense pressure, almost as if she’d gone through something this terrible before. While they’d protected her from the drug lord who wanted revenge, Dylan had glimpsed the real Ceci Armstrong—one who was strong yet vulnerable—and he liked what he saw.
“But why break open the wound?”
“She loves her sister and wants to celebrate her newfound freedom.” He didn’t need to mention it would be healthier if she talked about what happened to those who’d been through a kidnapping. He understood firsthand how sharing a piece of himself many times over had helped him heal after seeing so many die in the war.
“Ceci told me she was too busy to socialize, so maybe she won’t come.”
He knew what Gabe was doing. He was trying to let him down easy. “That’s her lame excuse for not getting close to us. She knows we’ll be here.” Dylan glanced once more at the door as he thought he’d heard a car door slam. “I bet she’s taking extra care to look good.” He didn’t know why she bothered as they’d seen her in her pajamas, and in tears with red-rimmed eyes, hugging a carton of cookie dough ice cream for support, but there was never a time when she wasn’t beautiful. “Oh, shit.”
“What?”
“Maybe she’s late because she wants to look good—only it’s not to impress us.” Hell, Pleasure was crawling with single men, and her sister had invited many of them.
Gabe waved his beer. “Finally! The great optimist sees the light.”
Damn. There was no doubt Ceci found both of them physically attractive. At first, when they were at her house keeping watch, she’d bring them drinks and even cook for them. Then one night they’d stayed up talking and the next day, it was
as if she’d dipped herself in ice. He tried to tell himself it was either her fear that the murderer would come after her or they had connected so deeply, it scared her to death. “She’ll come.” I hope.
“Maybe she’s working,” Gabe said.
“What planet are you from? She’s a day trader. The stock market closed hours ago.”
Gabe shrugged. “Come on, there are a lot of other pretty women we can talk to.” He headed over to where they’d congregated.
Their co-owner’s fiancée, Brooke, who happened to be Ceci’s sister, had invited several of her girlfriends, but he wasn’t in the mood for small talk. He wanted Ceci and only Ceci. There was something about her that called to him. She was a caregiver, yet she didn’t seem to want anyone to know. It was partly her secretive nature that intrigued him.
Normally, Gabe was the one who found the ladies for them to share. So far, though, they couldn’t agree on any one in particular. Maybe it was more accurate to say that once the women found out they lived in a fairly primitive log cabin in the middle of nowhere, liked to fish for their dinner instead of going out to a fancy restaurant, and rode dirt bikes on mud tracks for fun, the smart ones ran.
That was precisely why Gabe claimed Ceci wasn’t the one for them. But just because she drove a Lexus, dressed in expensive clothes, and had a Masters degree in business from Wharton, it didn’t mean deep down inside, she wasn’t a pioneer woman at heart.
Dream on, man. Maybe Gabe was right. She was out of their league.
However, Gabe was hopeful things were about to change. Last month, their other two partners, Max and Liam, caught a case in Pleasure and asked if Gabe and Dylan wouldn’t mind switching offices until things settled. He really didn’t care one way or the other, but Gabe said the women were more plentiful there. So now they commuted to Bozeman, an hour away from here. More women did nothing for him.
The door behind him opened and he spun around. Holy shit. Ceci! One glance and his heart was already a goner. In her three-inch-booted heels, she was only a few inches shorter than his six-foot-one-inch frame, making her perfect for kissing. It was like finding the ideal lure for a fish, and he was ready to reel her in.
She was dressed in tight white jeans and a turtleneck top that hugged her plentiful curves. The women of Pleasure didn’t usually wear a lot of makeup, but on Ceci it looked good. The purple eye shadow and pale peach lipstick brought out her green eyes and creamy skin. Her long blonde hair was wound tight into a bun presenting a woman in total control—or one who wished she was in control.
Their eyes met and his cock hardened. He lifted his beer bottle in salute and held his breath, wondering if she’d approach him. This was the first they’d seen each other in over a month, and if he came on too strong, she’d turn tail and run. Come to papa, Ceci. Her smile flashed bright then dimmed.
Crap. She clutched her purse tightly to her chest, dragged her gaze away from him, then waved at the women on the sofa. He’d let her go for now. There would be time to make his move later.
* * * *
Coming here had been a mistake, but how could she not be with Brooke and Sarah, her best friend, after all they’d been through? This was their time to celebrate. Ceci broke eye contact with Dylan and prayed he didn’t see her hands shake or that her chest had constricted as she tried to take in more air. Being around him after not seeing him for close to a month had caused withdrawals, though she couldn’t let him or Gabe know that. They deserved better.
Knowing him, he’d ask how she was doing, and then she’d have to lie and say she was fine. But she was tired of lying and always pretending everything was wonderful when it wasn’t. Dylan, more than Gabe, seemed to have X-ray vision into her soul. Not even Brooke knew what really happened to John in Philadelphia, and Ceci wanted to keep it that way. Her sister had guessed something was up when she’d come back to Pleasure so much thinner, but she’d told her that dealing with the dip in the market had taken a toll and that she wanted to freelance instead of work for a big investment firm.
Straightening her shoulders, she focused on the loud group of women on the sofa facing the fireplace and took metered steps toward them, hoping Dylan didn’t stop her.
She thought the rather bland room could use Brooke’s touch to make the place cozier, but Riley and Gavin claimed they hadn’t been in Pleasure long enough to decorate. If she lived here, she’d paint the walls a warm, cheery color and add some artwork, but her sister seemed happy and that was all that mattered.
Ceci neared the chatty ladies and waited patiently for her sister to finish her tale to Sarah about some crazy customer before stepping in her line of vision. As she rotated her worry ring, her anxiety ebbed.
When Brooke finally noticed her, she grinned, jumped up, and gave her a hug. “You came.”
“I couldn’t say no to my big sister’s first party.” They had laughed at that distinction of big. Ceci was a good five inches taller, only a year younger, and a lot thinner.
Brooke sat back down and both she and Sarah scooted apart to make room for her. Gabe’s back was to them as he chatted away with Liam, one of his other partners from the detective agency. Thankfully, he hadn’t caught sight of her yet.
Whereas Dylan had thick blond hair that any woman would kill to run her hands through, Gabe kept his dark hair cut short. He said it was the way he wore it in the military, and it was how it was going to stay. According to him, Dylan had been an arms expert, trained to defuse bombs, while Gabe’s passion had been military tactics. To her that implied both were adrenaline junkies. They carried weapons and Gabe said they weren’t afraid to use them.
From the week she spent with them, Gabe had acted more carefree than Dylan, but both were highly intelligent, at their peak physically, and ambitious in making Elite Detective Services a rousing success. While they seemed upbeat, she wondered if things ever got them down. Or had the military made them resilient to mood swings? John had done a tour of duty and claimed it was that experience that had started his free fall into the depths of depression.
She mentally shook her head, not able to imagine what it would be like to watch men die in battle or even kill another person. It didn’t matter if they were the enemy or not.
Neither Dylan nor Gabe had ever touched her inappropriately or come on to her, but as soon as she sensed they were interested, she turned off her heart. She promised never to date anyone who breathed danger for a job for fear they were using the adrenaline as a way to mask other deep-seated issues.
Brooke nudged her. “Have something to eat. Chelsea made these hors d’oeuvres.”
Ceci refocused her attention on the elaborate display of food on the table. If Chelsea Caulfield catered the party, the food would be fantastic. Ceci couldn’t be happier for her friend, who was now spending most of her time doing parties instead of cooking meals at her husbands’ bar and grill. How Chelsea managed to raise her kids and work full time was anyone’s guess.
Of late, Ceci hadn’t even had time to go shopping and hated when she had to resort to eating fast food. As she surveyed her choices, Sarah leaned over and handed her a small paper plate and three napkins. “Thanks. So what’s good?” Ceci asked.
The stuffed mushroom looked mouthwatering, the bacon-wrapped hot dogs divine, and the deviled eggs were very tempting. Not wanting to make a mess, she scooped a handful of raisins and placed them on her plate.
“You have to eat more than that,” Brooke said. Before she could continue her usual rant about how gaunt her sister was, the doorbell rang and Brooke jumped up. “Pizza’s here.”
Ceci’s stomach grumbled. She loved pizza, but she didn’t indulge in the greasy fare very often. The last time she had, a drop of tomato sauce had landed on her favorite white silk blouse and ruined it.
Sarah clasped Ceci’s hand. “We’ve missed you at happy hour.”
That because I don’t want to go out. “Between taxes and researching new stocks, I’ve been busy.” Even though the drug guy who’d come after h
er sister was in jail, there was no guarantee his minions wouldn’t want revenge.
Sarah wagged a finger at her. “If I have to come to your house and drag your ass out next week, I will.”
Sarah’s furrowed brows and pouty lips made her laugh. “Fine. Wednesday for sure.”
It was time to start living again. That was why she’d returned home—to forget the past and start anew.
Brooke hustled around, placing containers of pizza on the kitchen counter, the dining room table, and even went person-to-person offering them a slice. If one of her newfound boyfriends, Riley Landon, hadn’t been helping her, Ceci would have lent a hand.
She slipped a few raisins into her mouth, while brave Sarah ate the gooey mushrooms. She didn’t miss how her friend’s gaze stayed focused on Liam and Mason, the two men who’d saved her after her brush with death.
Why didn’t she seem scared anymore? Or Brooke for that matter? They’d been face-to-face with the monster.
You’re a wuss, Ceci Armstrong.
No, I’m a coward.
But right now, six hunky bodyguards were standing watch over all of them. For tonight she wanted to forget all her woes—including those back in Philadelphia. Her fingers were now sticky and she wiped them on the napkin, but the stubborn raisin goo remained. She pulled out her hand sanitizer.
Sarah gasped. “At a party?”
Her best friend knew how much she hated feeling unclean, but had no idea what lie behind the obsession. “Fine.” She quickly used a dab then stuffed the sanitizer back in her purse.