by Tara Rose
Passion Peak, Colorado 3
Training Summer
Receptionist Summer Andrews gets a pleasant surprise when Dom Dalton Metcalf steps in to mentor her and Wes Danbury at Indulgence, the local BDSM club. Her night of erotic play with both men awakens long-buried fantasies, and she’s drawn to both sexy Doms.
IT manager Wes had a run-in with Dalton years earlier, but he must put that aside when he finds himself sharing Summer, the object of his unrelenting fantasies, in and out of the dungeon. She wants both him and Dalton to train her as a sub, and she wants them both as lovers.
Dalton is falling in love with Summer, and although he’d rather not share her with anyone, he’d also do anything not to lose her. But before the three can work out their convoluted relationship, Dalton must face the undeniable fact that his father is involved with a fake ghost hunter who is searching for stolen money and jewels hidden in Passion Peak.
Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length: 75,196 words
TRAINING SUMMER
Passion Peak, Colorado 3
Tara Rose
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
TRAINING SUMMER
Copyright © 2013 by Tara Rose
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62740-587-4
First E-book Publication: September 2013
Cover design by Harris Channing
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.
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www.SirenPublishing.com
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DEDICATION
To my grandmother who really did teach me to play canasta.
I still miss you.
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
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
About the Author
TRAINING SUMMER
Passion Peak, Colorado 3
TARA ROSE
Copyright © 2013
Chapter One
“Gran, you’re cheating again.” Summer Andrews frowned at her maternal grandmother, Ruth, as Ruth tried to sneak a card from the bottom of the discard pile. The two were playing canasta, which Gran had taught Summer when she was eight years old.
“I’m an old lady. Old ladies can make up any rules they want.”
Summer smiled and shook her head, taking the wild card out of her Gran’s hand and placing it back in the discard pile. “If you’re old, I should be dead already.” Gran was eighty-five, looked no more than seventy, and if it hadn’t been for the bilateral below-the-knee amputations, necessary due to complications from her diabetes and peripheral vascular disease, Summer had no doubt Gran would still be running circles around everyone in the Shady Pines Assisted Living facility.
Summer laid out the last of her cards into a perfect meld. “I win. See what happens to cheaters?”
“Oh, dogshit.” Gran slapped her cards down on the table with a snort. “I never should have taught you this damn game. You’re too good at it.”
Summer scooped the cards into a pile. “It’s because you taught me that I’m such a good player, you know.”
Gran waved her hand toward the table. “No one plays this anymore. But back in my day, it was very popular.”
“It’s a lot of fun, Gran. I’m sure if people knew how to play it, they would.”
Gran fixed her with a look that Summer thought of as the “I’m about to tell you something for your own good” stare. It usually meant a lecture was coming on one of two subjects—Summer’s dead-end job or her complete disaster of a dating life.
“If you had a man to warm your bed, you wouldn’t be here four nights a week, playing cards with an old lady.”
Summer put the cards in the plastic tray and tucked that into the canvas bag she used to carry Gran’s cards and craft supplies from her tiny two-room apartment to the common room where they now sat. She covered Gran’s cool, papery-thin-skinned hands with her own. “I don’t need a man. I have Yosemite Sam. He’s surprisingly warm for a small cat. And I enjoy coming he
re. You know that. Besides, who else can I beat at card games?”
Gran tried not to smile, but the twinkle in her faded green eyes gave her away. “No one plays with real cards anymore, do they? Only on their computers.”
“Even that’s passé, Gran. Now they play games on iPads or smart phones.”
Gran laughed. “You’re a gem, Summer. I always said so.”
“And you are the best grandmother anyone could want.” Summer released Gran’s hands and picked at a spot of dried ketchup on the table. “Besides…I have a date. This Friday night, in fact.” It wasn’t a lie, exactly. She’d been invited by Wes Danbury, one of the IT managers at Notus where she worked as a receptionist, to Indulgence, the BDSM club in Passion Peak, Colorado, run by Nash Stonecraft in the basement of his mansion. Notus was the power plant that owned and operated several wind turbine farms throughout the country, and Summer had worked there in the same job since graduating from high school.
“With who? Where is he taking you?” Gran narrowed her eyes. Local gossip always made it inside these halls, but Summer had trouble picturing the residents talking about Nash or his BDSM club.
“His name is Wes Danbury and we’re going to a club.”
“Wes Danbury…I think I know his parents.”
“Everyone knows his parents, Gran. They own the alpaca farm, remember?” Wes’s family ran Pacos Farms, the alpaca ranch where Sunflower Trail joined up with State Highway 13, at the southwest end of town.
Gran nodded. “I know it well. Worked there a summer or two when I was a teenager. Did I tell you that?”
“You did.”
Gran waved her hand impatiently. “Of course I did. So, what club are you going to? When you say ‘club’ I think of the speakeasies they used to have in Chicago. Went there over the summer a few times with my parents before WWII. Rough town back then.”
“It’s just a club on Cheyenne Boulevard, Gran. Some of my friends go there a lot.” Summer had a few friends who were regulars, but when she’d gone with them from time to time, all she’d done was watch. That hardly qualified her as a regular. She’d never felt comfortable when invited to play. It was so intimate and personal, and she’d always felt like the new kid at school, so had repeatedly declined the chance to try anything.
Gran narrowed her eyes again. “You won’t be drinking, will you? Don’t let him get you drunk. It’s too easy to let kissing turn to fucking when you’re drunk.”
Summer laughed, more at the looks Gran received from several visitors sitting close by than at what she’d actually said. The other residents and staff within hearing range never even flinched. They were used to Ruth Marjorie Andrews and her word choices.
Her lower legs might be gone, and she might not be able to roll her wheelchair from one end of the hall to the other quickly without becoming short of breath, but there was nothing wrong with her mind, and she swore like a drunken sailor whenever she got the urge to do so.
“No, we won’t be drinking.” Nash had a strict no-alcohol policy when it came to play at his club. Even if you were there only to watch, if he or one of his Dungeon Monitors thought you’d been drinking or were high, you were tossed out.
“Well, good then.” She narrowed her eyes again. “So, what will you be doing? Listening to a rock band? Dancing? What?”
Summer rose. It was time to get home and spend time with Yosemite Sam. He was getting old, too, and didn’t like being alone in the evenings. “I’ll be talking to a very nice man, Gran, and getting to know him better.” She didn’t feel like mentioning the times she and Wes had grabbed a quick lunch or dinner together during the past few weeks. In fact, until Wes had approached her about going to Indulgence, Summer had begun to think he wasn’t all that interested in her.
“Bring him with you next time you visit. I want to meet him. I knew his parents.”
Summer leaned over and kissed Gran’s cheek, inhaling the odor of the Ace bandages constantly wrapped around the stumps under both knees, mixed with lilac perfume. Gran still insisted on dousing herself in it every morning after her bath. The Ace bandage smell was recent, but the perfume brought back memories of childhood, when Gran could run and walk, and Summer lived with her in the cozy old house on Rabbitbrush Road. The house belonged to strangers now, and Gran would never walk or run again. Not in this body, anyway.
“I have to get home, Gran. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“You know I’ll still be here.” She gave Summer’s hand a tight squeeze, and then Summer left, turning once to wave again as she always did.
Wes Danbury and Nash’s club…what the hell was she getting herself into? She’d been to Indulgence before, but had never noticed Wes there. She hadn’t thought to mention that when she’d agreed to go with him in two days. Two greenhorns in a BDSM club together? How could this turn out well?
She and Wes had flirted at work for weeks now, but the only contact they’d had outside the building were quick lunches at Panera Bread and one very pleasant dinner at Doli’s Diner. Wes had left her hot and bothered with some fantastic kissing after that one at the door to her apartment, but that had been it.
Each time they’d gone out, Summer had been left wanting more, but Wes was so painfully shy that she’d realized that she was going to have to be the one to initiate anything further, if it was going to happen at all. He’d act interested in her, but then he never seemed to want to take their relationship farther. She wasn’t sure they actually had one, and she couldn’t figure out what he wanted.
Then, yesterday at work, he’d simply started talking about Indulgence, right there in the lobby, and asked her if she’d like to go with him. When she hadn’t answered right away, mostly because she’d been stunned into silence, he’d fallen all over himself to explain it was only to watch, and that she didn’t have to play unless she wanted to. To say she’d been shocked was an understatement, and after telling him that she’d love to go with him, she’d worn out her vibrator last night trying to fall asleep.
But for now, she looked forward to a quiet evening in her apartment with an old tabby cat named Yosemite Sam. She’d called him that because he had a gravelly meow, just like Sam’s voice. He’d curl up in her lap while she surfed online or watched TV, and then he’d curl up at the food of her bed, on a pillow she’d made for him. What an exciting life we both lead.
At least she had something special to look forward to now. And Wes was great eye candy, with that soft-looking brown hair and his big dark eyes. Would he be dressed in club wear? If he was, Summer would have a tough time keeping her hands off him. The very thought of Wes dressed in leather made her pussy wet.
As she turned the corner that led to the exit doors overlooking the east parking lot, she was still lost in thoughts of Wes dressed as a Dom, and didn’t see the man in front of her until she ran smack into his hard-muscled chest.
“Oh, shit…I am so sorry.” Summer bent down to retrieve the purse she’d dropped at the same time he did, and they bumped heads. She laughed, and when he did as well, she straightened up to get a better look at him. “I really am sorry. I was lost in la-la land there and didn’t see you.”
“Not a problem. I was daydreaming myself.”
She knew who he was, but had never had an actual conversation with him. Summer stared at Dalton Metcalf, knowing she probably looked like a lovesick puppy right now, but unable to rein in the expression on her face in time. With dark hair that he wore a bit longer than the current style, dark eyes that bored into hers, and a sculpted body that his clothes couldn’t conceal, Dalton was the epitome of drop-dead gorgeous.
He’d been a couple of grades ahead of her in school, along with Wes, but it was Dalton that she and her friends used to drool over. Summer doubted that he even remembered her. “Well, I am sorry. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
“Only my ego.” He stuck out his hand. “Summer Andrews, right? I’m Dalton Metcalf.”
She stared at it, unsure what to do. He knew who she was? Finally she
shook his hand, and she was mortified to realize her palm was damp. She snatched it away, hoping he hadn’t noticed. “I know who you are, too. But I didn’t realize you remembered me.”
He looked confused. “Are you kidding? In a town this size? Everyone knows everyone.” Dalton glanced around then leaned closer, and Summer was treated to the scent of his cologne, musky and sexy, just like him. “I’m looking forward to Friday.”
Friday? “What?”
“Didn’t Ian or Wes tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Holy crap. What was he talking about? What hadn’t Wes told her? And what did Ian Malloy have to do with this? Ian was an R&D specialist at Notus, and Summer barely knew him.
Dalton looked like he’d just committed a huge faux pas. He glanced around again, but they were alone in the corridor. “Ah, you are going to Indulgence with Wes Danbury on Friday, right?”
“Why do you ask?” Maybe, maybe not. Depends on what you say next.
“Ian has been mentoring Wes. Teaching him about BDSM. But he can’t work with him on Friday, so he asked me to step in. He said he’d let Wes know, so I thought you knew by now.”
“Working with him?” Wes had been taking classes? She didn’t know people could do that. Were they talking about the same man? “Wes has been doing this?” She hadn’t meant for her comment to come out in quite that tone. Dalton must think her a prize bitch right now.
He nodded, and the earlier discomfort in his facial expression was gone. “You sound surprised.”
“He just doesn’t seem…” She didn’t want to insult Wes twice in front of Dalton. “I didn’t realize until he asked me to go that he was interested in the lifestyle.”