Forgiveness
When Ryan and Alain find evidence that leads them to believe their beloved Sarah has sold business secrets, they punish her in bed. They use her passion for them against her as she can deny them nothing. She is taken aback by their actions, but is far more devastated by their lack of trust, so she leaves them.
Then the truth comes out and the men do everything in their power to seek Sarah’s forgiveness. Sarah, feeling bitter and betrayed, successfully resists their attempts, including a sensuous kidnapping where Sarah gives as good as she gets. Ryan and Alain concede, shamed by their previous behavior, and back off, hoping that Sarah will come back to them in time. After seeing them with a beautiful redhead, Sarah questions whether her pride has caused her to make a terrible mistake and if she has lost the only men she has ever loved.
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length: 21,336 words
FORGIVENESS
Allyson Young
MENAGE AND MORE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage and More
FORGIVENESS
Copyright © 2012 by Allyson Young
E-book ISBN: 1-61926-136-7
First E-book Publication: January 2012
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 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
For Mary, always there, always supportive and never judgmental.
FORGIVENESS
ALLYSON YOUNG
Copyright © 2012
Prologue
The man strode down the hallway, exuding confidence, and unerringly found the right door. He slipped the lock, marveling at the ease with which it gave before his clever hands, but reminded himself of the alarm system within. The bitch had better be right about the code, or it would be over before it began. There were security cameras everywhere in the building but apparently none in the condo itself. It wouldn’t matter how many times his image was recorded if no one thought to look, but if the alarm sounded…
He had been in his employer’s office when the man took the call, the hysteria clear to his ears even from across the room. His boss cut through the wailing pleas with a curt interjection, asked a few questions, and announced he would take care of it, giving brief instructions. He scribbled some numbers on a pad on his desk, considered, added a note, ripped it off, and handed it to his expert.
“Go to this address, find the laptop, and send this in the form of an e-mail to me,” he ordered. “Change the time stamp to yesterday evening. There’s an alarm, but I’m assured this is the current code. Get it done now.”
The expert had nodded, memorizing the contents of the paper, then sent it through the shredder. “I expect my usual fee in my account by the time I get back.”
“Done,” was the answering growl and supercilious sneer. Money can buy anything, it suggested.
The code was entered, and the alarm silenced. The man worked his way swiftly through the rooms and located the laptop in the smaller bedroom. He had noted with interest the unusual taste displayed in the master suite. A huge four-poster bed dominated the room, but the restraints attached to each post and at the center of each sideboard were not the usual décor. Nor were the paddles and floggers in the wardrobe, alongside the dildoes, vibrators, anal wands, nipple clamps, and other sex toys, not to mention the variety of lubricants and douches. The master bath flaunted a huge, walk-in shower, and an equally large, separate tub. All the finishes were decadent, and he didn’t miss the large hook in the ceiling above the tub and the one in the shower. There was a pistol in either bedside table, tucked in between boxes of condoms. The walk-in closet held both women’s and men’s clothing, although the amount of men’s apparel outweighed the women’s. Interesting.
A man may have occupied the second bedroom at one time, although there weren’t a lot of items around, and few personal ones.
The third bedroom was innocuous by comparison, with a small bed, a desk against the opposite wall, and good lighting above it. The expert swiftly accessed the e-mail account, shaking his head at the lack of a password. Keeping one ear open for any changes in the sounds of the condo, he spent considerable time changing the time stamp and typed in the e-mail message. By the time he had it done he was sweating. Even his nerves of steel knew that time was passing quickly. Still, he hesitated prior to hitting the send button, then shrugged at his hint of compassion and sent the message. This [email protected] was going to be in deep shit. He left as quietly as he had arrived, rearming the alarm and locking the door behind him. He left his flesh-colored latex gloves on until he reached the elevator, then pulled them off behind his back, alert to the security camera in the corner, not realizing that the mirrored back panel hid another one.
Chapter One
“God damn it! Fuck!” Ryan Bell slammed the phone down so hard it shattered.
Alain Joubert raised his eyebrows. “Again?” he asked, almost drolly.
“Again,” Ryan confirmed. “I don’t get it, but I am royally pis
sed off.”
The multimillion-dollar deal the two best friends and business partners had been working on so painstakingly for the past three months, working sixteen-hour days, each and every week, had been snatched from beneath their noses, just like the two large, previous accounts. There seemed to be no explanation for it. Their security was top notch, their staff trusted, yet somehow Horizons had again come out the winner. There was simply no explanation. The security expert they had hired thought he was getting close to uncovering the mystery, had in fact been on his way to meet with them, when the stupid bastard had stepped off the curb, jaywalking, in front of a speeding cab. The man was in a coma, with brain damage, and not expected to live.
“Sir,” came a tentative voice from the doorway, accompanied by a soft knock.
Ryan looked up from his angry contemplation of his ruined phone. He tried to soften his voice.
“Yes, Jane, what is it?” he asked his personal assistant.
“I need to talk to you about something,” Jane replied, clearly nervous and upset.
Ryan motioned her in, and she shut the door behind her. Alain had come to point, much like a panther scenting its prey, and Ryan’s senses were also on full alert.
“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, thinking outside the box,” Jane said, “and if the leak isn’t in the office, it has to be from somewhere else, somewhere one of you, or both, has either confided in someone or written something down.”
Alain shook his head and spoke clearly and coldly, “Non, Jane. The only place we might have discussed the deals would be in the car or at home, and both are swept for listening devices regularly. We thought of that.”
“But you have discussed it at home,” she persevered.
Ryan surged to his feet. He knew where this was going. Jane didn’t like Sarah for some reason. Sarah thought it was because Jane fancied him or Alain, or both of them, but he had never picked up on anything like that from Jane. After all, they had Sarah, and Jane was well aware of their commitment to her.
“It isn’t Sarah, Jane, so don’t go there,” he commanded.
“All right,” she answered, “but I can’t think of anything else.”
Ryan watched her leave the room and quietly closed the door behind her. He didn’t like the seed she had planted, and by the look on his face, neither did Alain. Ryan went to the concealed bar and poured himself a drink, catching Alain’s nod that he, too, required one.
“I’m done for the day, Alain. I’m going home to prepare for Sarah. After today I think some stress relief is in order,” he announced.
“You read my thoughts once again, mon ami,” concurred Alain, tossing off the Scotch. “We have hardly spent time with her because of that damn account.”
Ryan and Alain made the drive home without comment. Ryan was lost in his own thoughts. He and Alain were very financially stable, but full of ambition and drive, and losing three accounts in a row, and to the same competitor, was an affront to their business acumen and ego. He and Alain were going to figure this out. Ryan knew that Alain was as angry as he was about the whole situation.
Ryan slammed through the lobby, closely followed by Alain. The elevator seemed to take forever but finally got them to their floor. He let Alain precede him and open the door to their condominium. The condo was high-end but nothing really out of the ordinary. Ryan and Alain slept and played there for years but weren’t dependent upon it for their creature comforts. The women they brought home with them weren’t given the impression of huge wealth, a fact that served to sift out the money-grabbing sort.
Alain disappeared into the master bath, and Ryan heard the shower turn on. He paced a little and thought he’d shower in the spare bath before preparing some food and readying the bedroom for Sarah’s return home from her job. He smiled, thinking of their beautiful little woman’s curvy figure. She had full breasts, tipped with pink nipples that seemed oversized and were so sexy. She wasn’t tall, at least not compared to them, but she stood straight and proud, her slim waist swelling to lush hips and a high, round ass. Sarah’s legs were muscled and firm from regular exercise and her work. Her mass of curls, alternating between blonde, golden-brown, and chestnut, was usually swept high upon her head, unless he or Alain released them. Which they always did in the bedroom.
Just thinking about the sight of her hair tumbling down the beautiful line of her back to the crease of her buttocks, or falling in strands to veil then reveal her nipples made him hard. Her hazel eyes, framed as they were with nearly black lashes, were her most unusual feature, and when she came, they turned molten gold. He never tired of looking into them as she reached orgasm.
“You’re thinking about Sarah, again?” Alain chuckled, as he wandered into the living room, wearing his silk robe, toweling his hair. He gestured at Ryan’s bulging crotch.
Ryan barked a laugh. “Always, my friend. I’m going for a shower. Maybe you could put some snacks together for Sarah. She’ll be hungry when she gets home, and she’ll need her energy. We’re not letting her out of bed for a very long time.”
Alain nodded his head in concurrence, and Ryan headed for the second bath. He showered quickly, banging his elbow on the tiled wall, and he cursed inventively. This was why they had built the other bathroom the way they had. But he wanted the master bath to dry so that Sarah could use it and not worry about cleaning it, as she always seemed to do. They didn’t need a cleaning lady anymore, for Sarah kept things spotless. At times it was hard to do things for her because she was already there ahead of them, unless they had exhausted her. Something they were going to do tonight. Ryan stroked his cock to release, taking the edge off. He would need all of his control with Sarah tonight. She bewitched him and Alain, moving them past their famed control, and he intended to help her lose her own later. Over and over. He knew without asking that Alain had also jerked off in the shower. They knew one another’s thoughts and actions better than some twins did. Ryan closed his eyes against the building anticipation and reached to turn off the water. If he hurried he could set out the jewelry he had bought to decorate Sarah’s nipples.
Chapter Two
Ryan emerged from the bathroom, scrubbing at his hair. He heard Alain crashing around in the kitchen and decided to go help, at least clear up behind him, once he dug out the nipple clamps. Sarah was not going to be distracted by a mess in the kitchen, either. He smiled, not knowing where she got her energy. She was also content with what she had, despite her talent and ambition. And, as she often told them, she had them and needed nothing or no one else.
Ryan’s eyes lit upon Sarah’s laptop, left out upon the little desk. She had one for work that she carried everywhere with her. It was smaller and easy to carry. Sarah took cabs or public transit, to their dismay, insisting that having a car would cut into her work time, given the dearth of available parking, and she laughed at the thought of someone driving her places and picking her up. Such an independent spirit. They loved her to distraction, especially because she was so submissive in the bedroom, fulfilling them both totally. Ryan opened the laptop, searching for her calendar, which could be synchronized between her computers. They would know when to expect her, and the anticipation would build but be finite. It wouldn’t do to call her and give her a heads-up. They wanted to pounce on her and sweep her into their games. She was so responsive and loved to play.
Sarah’s e-mail came up, obviously not closed from an earlier session. She had a few unread messages, and Ryan didn’t pay much attention, but then his brain froze at the sender’s address. The name Horizons leapt out at him like a beacon, and he literally couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. He clicked on it and found a response to an e-mail she had sent the previous evening. With the specs of their quote. The president of Horizons himself had responded with a terse “Well done. Your money has been wired.” Ryan wondered if taking a knife in the guts could compare to what he felt at that moment.
Alain looked up as Ryan nearly staggered into the kitchen. He dropp
ed the cheese knife on the granite counter and rushed to Ryan’s side.
“Mon ami!” he nearly shouted. “What is the problem? Are you ill?”
Ryan, feeling ill, shoved the laptop at Alain, who zoomed in on the e-mail. He grabbed for a counter stool and sat down heavily.
“I don’t believe it. I do not,” Alain said flatly. “She would not do this to us. Why would she do this? She has never been one for money or things. We would have given her anything. Anything.” Alain’s accent grew thicker under stress or passion, and his eyes brimmed with tears.
“Hard to dispute this, Alain,” said Ryan, who was getting himself under control. “It was pretty dumb to leave this kind of evidence around, but even the smartest crooks slip up from time to time. And Sarah would have no reason to think I’d check her e-mail. We trusted her, buddy. And she fucked us over. For the third time. We lost three fucking accounts because of her. No, that just doesn’t seem right. What am I trying to talk myself into here?”
Alain also continued to argue the apparent facts then gave up when Ryan pointed out the time stamp on the e-mail. He then thought someone could have messed with Sarah’s computer at work, but the damning message had gone the night before when Sarah was at home. And their condo had an impeccable alarm system. Both agreed it just didn’t seem like her and then couldn’t talk about it anymore when they came to the same conclusion.
Young, Allyson - Forgiveness (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Page 1