“Let’s talk with Martha’s sister, Karen, and the sister’s husband again. There was something odd about Karen. She didn’t come clean the last time we spoke with her.”
“How about I see what Martha’s brother-in-law is up to and you take his wife?” Gabe said.
“Sounds like a plan.”
* * * *
“So?” Sarah waved her wine glass. “You’ve been evasive all week about what happened on your hot date.”
“Not evasive, just busy.” She wanted to think things through. Being with the men had been better than she thought possible, but in the back of her head, she knew it couldn’t last. All it would take would be for her to let more slip about John, and they’d realize she was a horrible person deep inside.
“Uh-huh.”
Ceci sipped her wine. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”
“Because it’s our Wednesday happy hour.”
She didn’t see the logic. She’d not come for two months and had only shown up last Wednesday because Sarah had threatened to drag her out. That evening had turned out to be a good thing because it was when she decided to take a chance on these men. She still smiled when she thought of making love with them. It had been everything and more than what her sister had claimed.
“I see that look. It was amazing, right?” Sarah’s voice held a giggle.
The door to the Mountain View clattered open. Ceci looked up as Elle came in, once more red faced wearing a rather gaudy running suit. She pulled the chair and dropped down. “Sorry. I was slower than usual today. I think it’s the heat.”
Both of them laughed. “It’s in the fifties,” Sarah said.
Elle wiped her brow. “Oh? Then why am I hot?”
Once more they laughed. “So how’s the weight loss coming?” She hadn’t spoken with Elle since last week.
“I gained a pound.” She lightly banged her head on the table then sat up. “It’s not fair.”
“It takes time,” Ceci said. Larger women wouldn’t want to hear about diets and stuff from a thin person, so she decided not to talk with her about her own poor eating habits. Had Ceci led a normal life, she’d have been a lot curvier.
Sloan came over with three glasses of water. “Is Christina coming?”
Ceci had no idea. “Maybe.”
“You three want the usual?
Elle held up a hand. “I’ll stick with water. Wine is fattening.” She looked from one to the other. “Anyone want to split a bowl of chips and salsa?”
That was going to help how? “Sure.”
She caught Elle up on her motocross adventure, but she hadn’t decided how much to tell them about Gabe and Dylan, and she certainly wasn’t comfortable mentioning she’d had sex with two men on the first date. Okay, she’d spent many, many hours with them when they were protecting her, but that didn’t really count.
Elle guzzled down her drink. “I had a date on Saturday.”
Sarah leaned forward. “What? With whom?”
“I met him online. His name was Taylor Eplan, and he’s from Bozeman.”
“Oh.” Ceci couldn’t tell if she liked the guy or not. “And?”
Elle looked around, probably to see who was listening. “I run a sex shop for God’s sake so I’m not a prude, but I think Taylor thought that meant I was totally into major kink.”
Now she had Ceci’s attention. John was vanilla, but she’d been restless these last few years, reading up on the alternate lifestyle. Brooke wouldn’t give her any details about what went on in her life, but she’d dropped a few hints that the men loved bondage.
“He didn’t take you to Striker’s Lounge, did he?” She’d never been, but it had been rumored to have a BDSM club in back and was a members-only affair.
Her eyes widened slightly. “In fact, he did.”
Both she and Sarah glanced at each other. Sarah’s eyes were wide with wonderment. Ceci wasn’t sure she wanted to know what Elle saw. “Did you participate?” She almost hated to ask.
“No, but he wanted me to. He kept nudging my arm saying that I should call him Master T. Like that was going to happen. I didn’t even know the guy. He was clueless about the lifestyle—at least if I can believe what my clients who are Doms and subs tell me.”
“But he must have been a member if he got you in. Why did you say he was clueless?” She was the clueless one.
“It takes a long time to develop trust between a Dom and a sub. One doesn’t jump into the lifestyle on the first date. Two people need years to get to know what works for them.” She shook her head. “As if he knew everything about me, he said I’d be the perfect sub.”
They all chuckled. Even though Ceci considered herself highly competent and an ambitious woman who liked to take charge, when it came to the bedroom, it had been so nice not to have to worry about anything and put her trust in Gabe’s and Dylan’s hands. She also liked to please. Maybe she was a sub at heart.
Sarah sipped on her wine. “Did you see…anything?”
Elle leaned back. “You mean did I see couples going at it?”
Sarah nodded.
“No. That’s not what’s going on there. I heard one of the men say they should go to Bozeman because Strikers didn’t allow the exchange of bodily fluids.”
“Ew,” Ceci said.
“I know, but I did see a room where there was some pony play. In another room a woman was trussed up like a turkey and her Dom was flogging her ass.”
Sarah hissed. “And they allow that?”
Elle laughed. “I imagine she was loving it. Some women go there because they like to be on exhibition. The man wielding the flogger may not even be the man she sleeps with. He probably isn’t. I’m no expert, but the culture runs deep in Pleasure.”
Ceci guzzled her drink. “I’m kind of intrigued.”
Both of her friends twisted their heads in her direction so fast, she thought they might get whiplash. “What? Can’t a girl wonder what it would be like to experiment in the bedroom?”
Sarah eyes widened. Why? It wasn’t like she was a virgin.
“Ceci Armstrong. You slept with Gabe and Dylan, didn’t you? That’s why you’ve suddenly become intrigued with this.” She grinned. “I knew it. The way you couldn’t keep your eyes off of them when they were at your house, it was only a matter of time.” Then she giggled and a few of the patrons glanced their way.
“Shh. Yes, but they didn’t tie me up or anything.” She might have liked it if they had, but she had been out of her comfort zone as it was, and she bet the men knew that.
Sarah clapped. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Because I was scared. “I was trying to figure out how to break it to you.”
Elle sat up straighter and faced Sarah. “Speaking of which, have those two bodyguards who were assigned to make sure you didn’t get kidnapped again ever contact you?”
Sarah had been bummed when they’d only called once. Then at the party, they’d struck up a conversation.
“Well, kind of.”
Okay, she and Sarah needed to have a serious conversation about sharing information. In high school, they kept nothing from each other. After she moved away, things obviously had changed. “This is too much. We all seem to be living such separate lives. From now on, no secrets, ladies.”
Ceci stretched out her hand and Sarah and then Elle placed their palms on top. “One, two, three,” she said, and the girls both responded, “No secrets.”
“Now spill, Sarah Jane Jacobsen.”
Chapter Nine
Dylan decided to follow Carl French, the murdered woman’s brother-in-law, instead of speaking with him again. When Martha Dobbins’ husband, Richard, had hired them to open the cold case, he’d contact Carl and the man had been anything but friendly. His odd behavior set off an internal alarm, and Dylan wanted to find out what it was.
Richard claimed Carl never had warmed up to Martha, but he also claimed the man seemed to have a hate on for all humanity. Why Karen married the guy, Richard coul
dn’t guess.
Gabe already had established a rapport with Karen French, so he volunteered to speak with her again. The poor woman had been a basket case after her sister’s murder and hadn’t provided any clue as to who might have wanted Martha dead, but Gabe always claimed she knew more than she was telling.
While Martha and Richard Dobbins lived northwest of Bozeman, the antisocial Carl French and his wife lived in Pleasure.
So it was easy for Dylan to wait near Carl’s house until he left at one for work. To his surprise, the guy left his house early, and instead of heading to his job at Hamrick’s Coal & Mining, he drove straight to Striker’s Lounge on the west side of town. Was the man planning on a quick drink before going down into the bowels of the earth?
Dylan drove past Striker’s not wanting Carl to catch on he had a tail. Dylan circled the block and returned when he was convinced it was safe. At night, the building looked like any ordinary cowboy bar with wooden paneling, tacky flashing neon lights, and a porch banister than had too many spindles missing. During the day, it looked a lot worse.
Inside, the bar area was not a place any decent person would allow his parents to step foot in, but that was the whole idea behind the disguise. It was to dissuade only those in the know from entering.
Dylan had found the place by accident about a month after he and Gabe had purchased their house. They’d run into a cute young girl who told them about Striker’s back room and basement. To their delight, it was a members-only BDSM club, and a classy one at that. Their date at the time had been a member and took him and Gabe into the dungeon. He wasn’t into public exhibition himself, but he found the different rooms interesting. One thing he could say about Pleasure, Montana was that the town’s people were open-minded about sexual orientation and kink. As long as it was consensual, safe, and sane, anything went.
Dylan knew one of the dungeon monitors, Sean Norris, because like Dylan, he was a retired marine. Now there was a man who didn’t put up with any shit. Made the place safe to bring a nice woman.
His thoughts shot to Ceci and a small smile crossed his lips. It would be a cold day in hell before they’d developed enough trust to bring her here—but come they would.
So when Carl French stopped at the bar, strode in like he owned the place, and headed to the back, Dylan’s curiosity had been peaked. He’d met Karen French when they first investigated the crime, and while she appeared to be the submissive type, unless Carl dragged her here, he couldn’t see her enjoying herself.
As soon as Carl disappeared down the hallway to the BDSM club area, Dylan slipped onto a stool and waved to Travis.
“What’ll you have, Dylan?”’
“A draft. Say, is Cade here?”
The bartender stepped to his right, picked up a glass, and drew the draft. “He’s in his office.”
Once the owner, Cade Mueller, found out Dylan was an investigator, he’d asked him if he’d be willing to do the background checks on prospective customers. When Dylan didn’t charge him, Cade had given him a lifetime membership in return. The card to get into the BSDM portion might come in handy today, but he wanted to speak with the owner first.
As soon as Travis delivered his beer, Dylan slapped a five on the bar, and eased his way to the back to visit with Cade.
Dylan knocked and pushed open the slightly ajar office door. When Cade spotted him, he pushed back his chair and charged over to him, his hand extended.
“Hey. Long time no see.” They shook hands. “What brings you here? Besides the obviously superior drinks we serve.”
He chuckled. Cade motioned that he take a seat on one of the four high-back leather chairs that bordered a finely crafted wooden coffee table. “I’m working on a case. What do you know about one of your customers, Carl French?” The man must have been a member a long time since Dylan didn’t remember doing a check on him.
“Sean Norris would know better than me, but from what I’ve heard the guy is a sadist.” He stood, walked over to a file cabinet, and extracted a folder. He returned to his seat and flipped through the pages. “Because he’s a member, he wouldn’t have been kicked out of a club before.”
“Not that we know of. People lie.”
“True. He’s a suspect in something?”
Dylan appreciated the concern in Cade’s eyes, but until he had proof of any wrongdoing, he wouldn’t defame the guy. “Just checking him out.”
Cade nodded. “There are notes here from a couple of women who say they like his touch. He’s a master with a knife and a whip.”
Those were his hard limits. “Have you ever seen him with his wife?” Dylan pulled out a photo and showed Cade.
“I don’t remember her. But as I said, speak with Sean or Jesse Steed.”
The dungeon monitors had the pulse on everyone. Dylan stood and held out his hand. “Let me know if he causes a stir.”
“Will do, and don’t be such a stranger.”
Perhaps Ceci would like to check out the place—as a visitor, not as a participant. At least not yet.
Dylan placed his half-empty beer on the bar and headed out. If Carl spotted him, he’d have a lot of answering to do. If this guy had anything to do with his sister-in-law’s death, he’d slip up sooner or later.
* * * *
“Ceci will never go for it,” Dylan said.
Gabe wasn’t so sure. “She liked the motocross when she was hesitant at first.” Gabe put the pot on for coffee while Dylan had thawed some of the deer he’d killed.
“Can you really see our princess playing paintball?”
Gabe laughed. “That’s the point. I can’t and neither can she, but we decided the best way to open her up was to take her out of her comfort zone.”
Dylan shook his head. “She was squeamish about standing in a stream. I don’t know how agile she is, but can you see her diving behind the barricades, running between bales of hay, taking aim and then shooting a gun?”
Gabe hadn’t seen his roommate so defensive. “She might not want to shoot a deer or kill a fish, but no one gets hurt in our sport.”
“I know.”
“How about if we make sure she has the proper gear?”
Dylan slathered the marinade on top and popped two pieces in the oven. If his partner hadn’t been so tired, he bet Dylan would have grilled them outside.
“You just want to get her dirty so she’ll have to get naked.” The corner of Dylan’s lip lifted.
“Right on. Can you imagine both of us washing her in our shower?” He pictured running his hands over her luscious tits and slipping his cock into her divine pussy. It was his turn to sample her.
Dylan groaned. “I’d never be able to use the shower again and not think of her.”
Gabe laughed. “Me, too.” He grabbed a bag of broccoli and tossed a bunch in the steamer. “You want to call her?”
“Me? It’s your bright idea.”
The paintball place in Bozeman was only open on Saturday and he really wanted to see her sooner, but they’d both decided to take it slow. While Ceci had been amazing and relaxed in bed, which surprised the hell out of him, she still had something on her mind. Moving too fast wouldn’t help any of them.
“Fine. I’ll tell her it’s a surprise, which it will be. After we take her out, we’ll go out to dinner.”
Dylan cocked a brow. Gabe figured that would be a sticking point for him.
“So now you want to act different because we’re with her?”
“We do have the manners to eat at a restaurant. We just like to save our money, but Ceci is special. It won’t kill you.”
“Fine. It doesn’t matter. I’m not sure she’ll say yes anyway.”
Gabe grabbed a beer and popped the top. Dinner wouldn’t be ready for another fifteen minutes. “Let the master use his charm.” Wanting some privacy, he snatched his cell and walked into his bedroom.
He didn’t want to lie to her, but if he asked if she’d like to join them in a friendly paintball game, she’d balk. Sa
turdays were open to everyone, so there would be kids and women, but also expert men, mostly who were military like themselves. If—no when—she got hit, the paintball would sting, and while he really didn’t want to see her bruise, if she let go of her concerns, she might really like the thrill. Underneath, he believed Ceci was an adventurous person.
If this backfired, she could watch from the sidelines and cheer them on.
He dialed her number and when she answered, just hearing her voice got him hard.
“Hey, baby. How are you doing?” Small talk wasn’t his thing, but he wanted to let her know that he cared about her.
“I’m good, and you?”
They probably could go on like this for a while, but he enjoyed talking with her face-to-face rather than on the phone. “Dylan and I want to see you on Saturday. You free?”
“Yes. What do you have in mind?”
He pumped his fist when she didn’t hesitate. Cautious he could deal with. “How would you like to take a trip to Bozeman? There’s a nice little spot outside of town we want to show you.” Nothing he said was a lie.
Lies by omission are still lies.
“What’s there?”
He inhaled, debating giving her a clue. “Can it be a surprise?”
“Will it be as big of a surprise as the motocross race?” Sassiness replaced the weariness and he stretched out on the bed.
“Maybe. It’s possible you could get dirty.” He didn’t let her answer. “So I’m thinking you might want to bring a change of clothes for after we all shower together. Would you like that, baby?”
While he never believed in superstition, he crossed his fingers, inwardly laughing at his juvenile behavior. In truth, one of the men in his platoon always crossed his fingers. When Andy died in his arms, his fingers were still crossed.
“—what time?”
Christ. Now he was spacing out like Ceci. He hadn’t heard her response, but the question of time implied she’d agreed. “How about we pick you up at two?” The games would go on all day long.
Dirty Pleasures [Pleasure, Montana 10] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 8
