The American Soldier Collection 2: Mastering the Art of Love (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

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The American Soldier Collection 2: Mastering the Art of Love (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 1

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer




  The American Soldier Collection 2: Mastering the Art of Love

  Mariana “Sparks” Sparketta is alone in the world. She’s struggling to put herself through college. Working as a courier delivering mail and packages to corporate businesses in Houston, she becomes hungry for a better life and to fulfill her dream of one day operating an art gallery.

  She takes a job as an escort for a legit businesswoman. The men she assists are intriguing. How cool is it to get paid for talking about art, a subject she loves so deeply? She meets Jax and Jameson Spaulding, two very wealthy retired soldiers who have invented things and also provide protection for important clients. She never expects that taking this escort job could cost her not only her heart but her life.

  Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among siblings.

  Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre

  Length: 51,565 words

  THE AMERICAN SOLDIER COLLECTION 2:

  MASTERING THE ART OF LOVE

  Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  MENAGE EVERLASTING

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting

  THE AMERICAN SOLDIER COLLECTION 2:

  MASTERING THE ART OF LOVE

  Copyright © 2013 by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62242-960-8

  First E-book Publication: May 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

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of The American Soldier Collection 2: Mastering the Art of Love by Dixie Lynn Dwyer from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is Dixie Lynn Dwyer’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Dwyer’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  www.BookStrand.com

  DEDICATION

  To my reading fans,

  I truly enjoyed writing Mastering the Art of Love.

  This story is about three amazing, hard-working people, who thought that life was just about running away from bad memories and their hurtful pasts, and instead found true love when they least expected it.

  Like a gorgeous painting that catches your eye with its uniqueness and invisible pull, similar is the process of finding love. The delight and excitement of an attraction and desire, like the first strokes of a painter’s brush, it eventually turns into a completed work, a fulfilling relationship and bond.

  May you enjoy the story.

  Hugs!

  ~Dixie~

  THE AMERICAN SOLDIER COLLECTION 2: MASTERING THE ART OF LOVE

  DIXIE LYNN DWYER

  Copyright © 2013

  Chapter 1

  Mariana Sparketta, or “Sparks” as her delivery friends liked to call her, could feel the sweat dripping down her back. Despite the forty-degree temperature outside on the city streets of Houston, an absolute cold front for the end of January, Mariana pushed along on her skateboard in hopes of delivering the package on time. Being a courier in the city was a bit rough sometimes. She had to deal with traffic, pedestrians, delivery vehicles, obnoxious desk clerks, and asshole business big shots. She swore to herself that once she achieved her college degree and landed a job, making it big, or at least ran her own art gallery, she would be the same quiet, sweet person she really was. But times were tough. Adapting to life on her own in Houston, after her mama dying suddenly, Mariana learned to overcome. So what, that it was taking a little extra time to finish college? She would do it. She had to. There was no Prince Charming, no winning the lottery, and basically men sucked.

  “Watch it, moron!” she yelled as she maneuvered around a guy getting out of a taxi who nearly plowed into her. Well, like she was thinking, she would still be the nice, respectful person her mama raised her to be, outside of working as a courier. She had to be tough, and she had to dress the part, too. On Friday and Saturday nights she worked her second job serving food and hors d’oeuvres at parties for the wealthy and prominent in the Houston business district. College cost big bucks, and she had another whole two semesters until she finished and landed her degree. But she still had most of her college loans to pay, that bank loan left behind by mama, along with rent for her one-bedroom shit hole, four blocks from campus. That was a stupid decision, and she should have paid the extra money somehow so she wouldn’t worry about getting mugged or raped on her way home late at night.

  Taking those self-defense courses better not come in handy. Or the illegal pepper spray she carried, she hoped, that remained in her purse.

  She pumped her foot harder against the concrete as she jumped the sidewalk and headed straight for the open door to the building. The doorman, Stan, was holding it open. She waved and continued on, thinking that he was being nice. He knew that it was a Friday and she needed to get her deliveries finished.

  His eyes widened, and it was too late when she realized that he was holding the door for someone else. The well-dressed businessman with the obnoxious expression on his face shot daggers at her as she rolled on by, skateboard and all, then skidded to a halt by the front desk.

  “Hey, Lucille. How are you today?” she asked as she placed the box on top of the counter then handed over the slip of paper for L
ucille to sign.

  “Hey, Sparks. You nearly took out Walters,” Lucille said as she signed the slip of paper.

  She shrugged her shoulders. Dressed in a hooded sweatshirt, knit hat with her hair tucked under, sunglasses, and knee and elbow pads over her skinny jeans, she pulled off punk kid really well. Probably too well for a twenty-four-year-old college student with big boobs. The tight shirts underneath held them in snug. The plus from this job was a great body from all the exercise.

  “I’m in a hurry and I don’t have time to wait.”

  She took the slip of paper from Lucille, placed it in her backpack, and turned around prepared to take off again on her skateboard when she felt the shove to her shoulder.

  “Hey, kid, who the hell do you think you are coming in to this establishment on a skateboard? You nearly knocked me down. What company do you work for? I’m going to call them up and get your little ass fired,” he yelled at her.

  “I’m not the regular kid who delivers here,” Mariana began to say, keeping a smile to herself that this moron thought she was a boy. He was a good-looking guy, but his arrogance was so obvious, it instantly put her on guard. Her petite figure and present outfit camouflaged her body well. She decided to go with it.

  “I need to get going. It won’t happen again,” she said in her pretend deep boy voice then dropped the skateboard and started to push off when the guy grabbed her sweatshirt and backpack and pulled her back. She fell to the ground, her shirt lifted, and it became quite apparent she wasn’t a boy. She wanted the floor to swallow her up. She needed this job. How the hell was she going to get asshole to stop freaking out?

  * * * *

  “What seems to be the problem here, Walters?”

  Jax Spaulding was standing in the lobby waiting for his brother Jameson to arrive for their meeting. He was fifteen minutes late. He hated to be late. Punctuality was the key to success. Standing in the corner, he watched as the young courier entered the building through the open door, nearly knocking Walters on his ass, which he would have loved to see, and then continued to the front desk as if nothing had transpired. He’d seen that kid before. Not just here in the business center but in other office buildings and locations throughout town. He sure did get around and really knew how to ride that skateboard. Jax was impressed.

  As he approached the potential situation, Walters had grabbed the kid and made him fall down. Jax reached a hand down to the kid to help him up, and that was when he saw the belly ring. Holy shit, he’s a girl.

  “Take my hand, honey.” As their hands touched Jax got a funny feeling in his stomach. It was almost like a spark of interest. He released her hand immediately, and she pulled down her sweatshirt.

  “You didn’t have a right to touch me. I can call the cops and charge you with assault, you know,” she stated firmly to Walters.

  “You won’t do that, you’re just a dumb kid on a skateboard. It’s my word against yours. Get lost or I will call the police and get you fired,” Walters said then walked away. The girl flipped him the bird behind his back, and a few people around them chuckled, including Lucille who worked behind the desk.

  “Bye, Lucille,” the girl said with a wave.

  “Later, Sparks.”

  Jax didn’t know why, but he grabbed her sleeve by her wrist. And what was with the name Sparks?

  “Hey, wait a minute.”

  She jerked her arm away and then crossed her arms in front of her chest. He suddenly wished he could see her face, her eyes, or even her hair. She was camouflaged by the knit hat, sunglasses, and oversized hoodie. She was petite, too, and he liked petite women. But damn, did she look like a kid, a boy, in her getup. All he could do was focus on her lips that were definitely not lips a boy would have. She licked them at that moment and he felt fire in his belly. Jesus H. Christ, she’d better not be a boy and she’d better be over twenty-one. His body and his mind yelled, “Interesting.”

  “What’s your real name?”

  “Why, so you can get me fired?” Her fake deep voice was cheesy, but he figured she was playing up the boy thing still.

  “I’m not going to get you fired. I wanted to know if you were okay. That fall was hard.”

  She stared at him. Or at least he assumed that she did behind those damn black sunglasses. What color eyes does she have?

  “I’m fine and I’ve taken worse falls. Thanks for the help up but I need to go. I have one more delivery.” She jumped on her skateboard and took off. Jax stared at her in shock as she skated through the lobby, across the marble flooring, and Stan held the door open for her with a smile on his face. Now suddenly her body didn’t look so boyish. The hoodie covered her ass, but it was a woman’s ass, not a boy’s. He turned to look at Lucille who gave him a look as if wondering what was wrong with him.

  “Lucille, who was that kid?”

  She smiled. “She goes by the name Sparks, Mr. Spaulding. She’s a woman, not a kid or a boy.” His eyes widened despite the fact that his body had known immediately that he was a she. That little nudge of need formed in his belly. He really wished he could have gotten a look at her face, although her lips were very nice.

  “What company does she work for?” he asked.

  “It wasn’t her fault, you know? Mr. Walters was nowhere near the door to exit. He makes Stan wait there and hold it for him, even if it means letting the bitter cold inside.” Jax admired Lucille’s loyalty to the delivery girl. He saw what Walters did. He was known to be an asshole and even in his own dealings with the man he found him obnoxious and frustrating.

  “I know. I was just curious about her.”

  Lucille raised her eyebrows at him and he raised his eyebrows back at her.

  His instincts had saved him too many times to remember as a Marine in the service. He wanted to know who this Sparks woman was. He had to see her face and to learn more about her. But by the way Lucille was watching him, he didn’t want to come across as some kind of pervert. After all, he did verbally acknowledge the fact that he thought Sparks was a boy.

  “Forget I asked. Hopefully she’s okay from that fall.”

  “She’s a tough one. Don’t you worry.”

  But the odd thing was that he was worried, or perhaps that feeling was just plain curiosity.

  Chapter 2

  “Why are you so pissed off at me? I told you that I didn’t want to meet these people, yet you said I would accompany you. I was late and that’s it. You’re lucky that I even showed up at all,” Jameson said as he sat at the island in their studio apartment.

  “This entire business was based on your ideas, your inventions. These people want us to run another program for them. We could be working on government-funded jobs shortly, too.”

  “I’m not interested in working for the government anymore. I’ve done my time serving in the military, I don’t need to serve them more in civilian life, too. Stick to landing the private security accounts. Or better yet, buy that art gallery from Roldolpho. You’ve been eyeing it for the last two years. He’s ready to sell, you can tell,” Jameson responded with attitude.

  Jax just couldn’t figure his brother out. He remained in the service after his best friend, Sulter, was killed by insurgents and a year after Jax got out. Then he stayed another tour and finally just retired from the military eight months ago. Jax was trying to get him more involved with the business, but Jameson wasn’t happy about it. They made a lot of money and their good friend Freda had introduced them to her investment broker, and now they were set for life. These were good times, and their private security business was growing and the alert device Jamison invested for special security detail was highly sought after. The deal they made landed them millions of dollars.

  Maybe Jameson didn’t want to continue. Perhaps his suggestion about buying the art gallery was right on. But Jax didn’t have anything but the business and his brother Jameson. He was a coldhearted asshole most of the time. He didn’t get close to people and especially women who seemed to always be after hi
s money. Jax hated fakes and frauds. He didn’t tolerate incompetence or laziness, and he was hard to please. He knew that but didn’t give a shit.

  “Believe me, I’ve been thinking about it. I’ll think about it even more, tomorrow night when we attend the opening for that new artist, Belogio,” Jax said as he poured himself a snifter of brandy. Their penthouse was huge, and the building contained all the amenities of high class and money. They also had a great view of the city skyline and a walk-out balcony for when they hosted a party. Of course they had only done that one time and hired a service to do everything. Thanks again to their good friend Freda.

  She had quite the reputation as a business-savvy entrepreneur and widow. Her late husband Detrick Mulsberry was wealthy beyond sanity and owned everything from the boating and shipping industry to the art galleries and museums. She of course operated a small escort business, completely legit and nothing illegal. He had used her services in the past if he had an event to go to that required a date for social purposes and someone who had knowledge of the business world. Freda helped to arrange an escort for any businessmen in the city who needed a beautiful woman with brains to play the role at events. It was costly but well worth it. Freda only had one incident in the past where an escort wound up in trouble because her date decided that he wanted more than what the service offered. Freda called Jax and Jameson, and they immediately went to the young woman’s aid and also took care of the jerk who tried to force her to have sex with him. Now, all Freda’s escorts wore the special alert button. Jax and Jamison had each of the women followed and monitored on their dates.

 

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