MenageaDare (4 page)

“Not yet, Eve. Remember what I said, we’ll get there,” he
promised.

As much as he enjoyed the BDSM lifestyle, he didn’t want to
rush Eve into it without her full understanding and consent. They were still
getting to know one another as lovers. That’s what he wanted to concentrate on.

“You’re in charge, I take it?”

“You already know that answer,” he said, watching her blush
scarlet. “Let me ask you something. How long has it been for you?”

“Since I’ve had sex?”

“Yes. Be honest.”

“I haven’t had been with anyone since you hired me,” she
said.

“I’m glad. It’s been almost as long since I’ve had a lover,
sugar.”

“Are there any rules I should know going forward?” she
asked.

“For now, the only rule I have is that you tell me if
something I’m doing to you doesn’t work for you. Okay?”

“I don’t get it. I heard you joined Alex and Ryan’s club at
Druid Creek Castle,” she admitted.

“It’s true. I’ve been a switch in relationships before, but
joining the club was more for the social aspect than trying to hook up with
anyone or play.”

“Will it make you walk away from me if I don’t accept it?
I’m curious but I’m not sure it’s right for me.”

Needing to reassure her, Remy stopped whatever he was doing
and went straight to her. Reaching out, he touched his hand to her face,
bringing her chin up. She was beautiful in the firelight.

“No,” he told her. “Being curious is good, Eve. Maybe when
we get back to New England we can look into attending munches together.”

“Munches,” she repeated. “Avery explained them to me.”

“Then you know they’re meant to introduce someone new to the
lifestyle without pressure to join or engage. While we’re on this road trip, if
you want to play, we’ll see what fun can be had without scaring or pushing you.
Okay?”

“Okay. Thank you, Remy.”

Leaning down, he kissed her on the cheek, inhaling her fresh
scent as he drew back. Damn, his cock thickened to the point of discomfort.
Having to turn away and adjust himself, he went and grabbed a lantern and
headed off into the woods to hunt down sticks.

Despite needing a little cool down time, he didn’t want
venture too far from Eve or their campsite. Once in a while, he’d stop what he
was doing to make sure she was okay then resumed his task until he had several
long, thin sticks suitable for roasting marshmallows and hotdogs over the fire.

Taking them to the camper, he set the lantern on the picnic
table and went to the kitchen, took out a Swiss Army knife from one of the
small utility drawers and sharpened the ends of the sticks.

“Everything okay over there, Eve? Are you thirsty or anything?”
he asked, putting the knife back. “I’ve got Red’s Apple Ale, bottled water,
apple juice and beer.”

“The ale sounds good,” she answered.

“Got it.” It took a minute to fish through the cooler for
two ales, remove the caps and take them over to the campfire and hand one to
her. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” Eve said, taking one. Together they each took a
sip then set their bottles on a big, flat rock that sat between the camp
chairs. It would make a convenient table.

Retracing his steps to the kitchen, he grabbed the sticks,
two packages of hotdogs, beef for her and veggie for him then headed back to
the fire pit. On his way back, he paused, watching Eve sip on her ale and
genuinely seem to enjoy it.

Man, she was beautiful. If all went well for the rest of
this trip, maybe he could overcome his penchant for hurting women he’d cared
about. The most damaging had been his ex-fiancée, but that didn’t mean he
hadn’t dated others or tried again only to find himself drawn to another man.

At first, he’d thought playing or engaging with couples was
the answer to avoid hurting women. If both were open to ménages, it would be
the best of both worlds. But most of the time, his attempts fell flat and many
were hurt, himself included.

“Hungry?” he asked, taking a seat in a camp chair and
cringing when he nearly bent his erection in the wrong direction. Adjusting
himself, he settled more comfortably.

“Yes, very,” she admitted, her stomach growling.

“Me too,” he said as he offered her a stick and a hotdog.
“Here you are.”

“Thanks, Remy,” she said, assembling her hotdog on the stick
and extending it over the flame as he sat down and prepared his own.

Together, they roasted the hotdogs. Darkness fell. It was
pretty darn chilly away from the fire pit, but here everything was warm and
there was nowhere else Remy wanted to be.

Eve rocked back in her chair and looked over at the man
she’d wanted for so long. She honestly thought she knew a lot about him before
tonight.

She knew he liked ice cream, action movies and predominately
wore black. But until he opened himself up to her about Blair, she hadn’t known
why he’d made ghost hunting his life’s work.

In that respect, she and Remy shared common ground in
needing to understand paranormal phenomena. Ever since her mom died of breast
cancer when she was younger, she’d wanted to find a way to reassure herself
that her mom was in heaven.

She’d tried several means to do that, attended seminars or
séances and did extensive research on paranormal activity throughout history.
Except for occasional déjà vu, she’d never thought of herself as psychic though
she believed in the power of the mind.

Then a year ago almost to the day, she was hired on as
Remington Sinclair’s history consultant for his ghost hunting reality TV show
and met psychic Morgan Everhart, now Morgan Maddox, back in October. At first
she’d been jealous of Morgan’s friendship with Remy.

But that changed after Morgan touched her mother’s rocking
chair and gave a reading that’d been so spot on there was no way it could’ve
been faked. Above it all, she’d been given reason to believe her mom was indeed
an angel watching over her and her father.

“What are you thinking about, Eve?” Remy asked, withdrawing
his stick with a veggie hotdog from the fire.

“My mom,” she answered.

“Tell me about her,” Remy prompted. “I mean, I know you lost
her years ago, but I’d love to know what she was like.”

Eve reached over and picked up a bottle of apple ale. Taking
a long sip, she hummed, it was quite delicious and it gave her a moment to
think before speaking.

“She was the best mom a girl could hope for. She told me
bedtime stories when I was very little and let me cry on her shoulder when
Billy Simms broke up with me in the sixth grade.”

“Billy Simms was an ass to break up with you.”

Chuckling at that, Eve took another sip, eyeing the empty
end of her stick. She’d eaten one hotdog and could use a second.

“Billy had several girlfriends in sixth grade after our big
breakup. His family moved out of state the following summer and I moved on.”

“Your mom was a lawyer, correct?”

“Yes, she was and she headed up the legal department of
Dad’s company and still had time to attend every recital and school event until
she became too sick.”

“If your mom was as dedicated to her job as you are to
helping me track down historical facts about a given estate or town, I’d say
your father was lucky to have her on his side.”

“I don’t think I told you this, Remy. The day I read the ad
you’d posted for a consultant, I’d closed myself off in my apartment with a
half gallon of vanilla-fudge ice cream, intending to watch
Casablanca
.
It was her birthday and we used to watch old movies together.”

“I can understand that. I’ve done that for Blair.”

“To this day, I think she had a hand in guiding me to you
instead of Netflix.”

“Certainly possible, sometimes spirits come to us in dreams
or in person. Sometimes the tickle on the back of your neck or the crash of a
cup on the floor when no one else is around alerts you to their presence.”

“And sometimes entities are caught in an event that they
relive over and over,” she added.

“I find that’s the case on battlefields or a place with
traumatic history. I’ve also found that some spirits are transient, passing
from one place to the next, some are residual or intelligent and have a story
to tell.”

Eve glanced up, looking over at Remy. He looked so relaxed
sitting in his camp chair, sipping on his apple ale or nibbling on a hotdog.

“I think it takes an open mind to believe those who’ve
passed away remain or communicate with us. It also takes faith, which stems
from the heart.”

“True,” he agreed. “Many times I’ve gotten what I thought
was photographic or video evidence that turned out to be dust or an animal. Old
houses with faulty wiring can set off EMF detectors.”

“And it can take hours to obtain a simple EVP. It’s a good
thing you have Morgan to help. All I can do is hunt down historical information
about a site or the genealogical records of a family or families who lived
there.”

“Her abilities are amazing, that doesn’t mean what you do is
any less important to the success of the show. So often, history is lost over
time. You keep it alive.”

“Is that your way of saying I make history sound
interesting? I hope so.”

“Guess it’s fair to say you’ve altered my view of historians
forever.”

Eve set her bottle on a flat rock situated between their
chairs and went for another hotdog. Poking her stick through the hotdog, she
held it over the fire, ducking a little when a puff of smoke blew up toward her
face.

“What was your view before you met me?” she asked, curious
even as she waved off the smoke.

It was par for the course when it came to campfires. Her mom
used to say smoke followed beauty. Eve never thought of herself as beautiful.
But the way Remy stared at her when she’d walked out of the bathhouse changed
that view.

“Considering my parents are tenured professors at MIT, my
mom in sociology and my dad in physics, I suppose it’s safe to say the history
professors I’d met were boring.”

“History isn’t boring. If taught right, it can help us avoid
repeating mistakes in the future. Sociology’s fascinating to me too, ditto for
anthropology.”

“My mom, Aiyana, studied the Wampanoag and Narragansett
cultures extensively. I’ve learned a lot about my maternal heritage from her.”

“What was it like for you growing up?” Eve asked curiously.

Remy shrugged, finishing off his hotdog and preparing
another. “Same as any other boy’s, I suppose. I’d played baseball and football,
teased girls with frogs and worms, loved going to carnivals and skinny dipping,
especially if Beth and Gary were involved.”

“Were they your friends?”

“Their parents were friends with mine for years and we lived
in the same neighborhood.”

“What happened?” It was the first time he’d mentioned them.

“They’re married now. Beth’s expecting a baby. They’re very
happy.”

“That’s nice. Why do I have the feeling something happened
between the three of you?”

Remy sat in his chair, roasting his hotdog in silence. Eve
pulled her stick back so that her hotdog wouldn’t burn. Tentatively, she
nibbled on the end. It was perfectly warm, not overdone or too hot.

“You don’t have to answer if it’s too personal,” she said
between bites.

“Beth was my fiancée,” he admitted in a quiet voice. “This
is the part of our conversation you should listen to, Eve. Before we get into
that camper, you need to know what kind of man I am.”

“I already know what kind of man you are,” she countered,
ignoring her hotdog.

“Do you?” he challenged, turning his head to face her.

“You’re the kind of man I’m proud to call a friend,
hopefully soon, my lover. You’ve known for a long time that I’m attracted to
you and you could’ve taken advantage of me but you didn’t.”

“When we met, I wasn’t ready for you,” he told her, drawing
his stick out of the fire to look at the lightly blackened hotdog. “Remember
when I told you about how I’d dealt with losing my brother and my family’s
faith?”

“I do. When people lose loved ones or are scared, they say
or do things they later come to regret.”

Ignoring the rest of her hotdog, Eve carefully set the stick
aside and got up. Remy rocked back in his camp chair, placing his stick next to
hers and patting his lap. She climbed on willingly, loving their sudden
closeness.

“Blair may have been younger, but he was a great brother.
When he was gone I…”

Eve shifted on Remy’s lap as his words trailed off. “Broke
your fiancée’s heart?”

“Beth didn’t deserve what I did to her,” Remy said, nodding.
“We’d gotten engaged shortly before going off to college, with the
understanding that we’d plan our wedding on holidays and breaks. Then Blair
went missing, everything was placed on hold and I developed a crush on my RA,
Stefan.”

“I can understand how that would happen.”

“Eve, here’s the plain truth, I had many lovers while I was
engaged to Beth, gay and straight. Stefan was only the beginning.”

“Remy, don’t go back to a time when you were hurting and
trying to soothe your pain. No one’s a saint when it comes to poor choices.”

“What if I told you that Beth had too much to drink and
crashed her car after I broke off our engagement? She was in ICU for
twenty-four hours then went through weeks of physical therapy and rehab.”

“I’m sorry she was hurt, truly. It doesn’t change my opinion
of you. Did she eventually understand why you called off the wedding?”

Remy wrapped his arms around her, pulling her farther
against him. With his body heat, his jacket and the campfire, she was toasty
warm and incredibly comfortable.

“I told her the truth, that I’m bisexual, about Stefan, everything.
At first, she suggested we have an open marriage so I could continue being with
him. I insisted it would be wrong. She’d sacrifice her own chance at happiness
in the future and I couldn’t live with that.”

“Remy, you did the right thing in letting her go,” Eve said.
“She loves Gary, right?”

“Yes, my parents assure me they are very happy together.”

“Then be happy for them. I can’t speak for either one, but
I’d think they’d want you to live your life for you.”

“After what happened with Beth I vowed to be upfront with
whomever I was dating.”

“Including me?” Keeping his arms around her, he leaned back
a little, the campfire illuminating his handsome-as-sin face.

“Especially you, Eve, I want to fuck you as much as I want
to take you out and show you off to the world.”

“Would you get jealous if I’d dated someone else since we
met?”

“It would’ve crushed me,” he answered, confusing her some.
“Listen, before things get out of hand tonight promise to tell me to take a
hike if I push you into something you can’t handle or look at someone else,
male or female.”

“You’re still trying to protect me,” she concluded.

“Don’t let me break you the way I did Beth,” he insisted,
lifting his head to look down at her.

“Remy, forgive yourself for the past,” Eve coaxed, lifting her
hand up to place it against his face. He’d shaved. His skin was smooth and
warmed by the campfire. “You were right not to commit to marriage when your
heart wasn’t in it.”

Remy’s hand left her waist and trailed upward, coming to
rest atop hers against his cheek.

“Know this for certain, I’ve got it bad for you, Evelyn
Stratham,” he murmured, shifting to pepper kisses along her temple to her
earlobe, nipping the delicate skin there.

“I’ve got it bad for you too, Remington,” she stated
honestly.

“Good, I’m glad. I’m still afraid, here, sugar. I want to
give you all the assurances you need to hear, but I’ve made mistakes and
choices in my dating life because I couldn’t turn off my sexuality. That’s what
I’m trying to protect you from.”

“Thank you for being honest with me,” she said, believing he
meant to do right by her, she wished he’d give her the chance to explore both
sides of his sexuality with him.

But they were a long way from that and telling him about her
fantasy sex life now didn’t seem right. This night, this trip, was about the
two of them getting to know each other on the most basic level.

“Remy, wanted you to know up front that my dad wants me to
date one of his star VPs. That’s not going to happen now, but he may be tricky
to deal with when we’re home.”

“Selfishly, I’m glad. But you haven’t promised to kick me to
the curb if I make a mistake with you.”

“All I can say is that I’ll be open and honest with you
going forward. I’m a strong woman, one who is willing to share a lot with you.”

“I’ll do the same with you.”

“I was wondering about something,” she said. “Are you aware
that Morgan Maddox came to me and predicted our lives are going to change when
we get to Dare?”

“She said something similar to me, yes. In truth, she’s been
right whenever she’s given me a reading thus far. Maybe that’s what I’m afraid
of.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, curious.

“Your favorite author’s name came up, Eve,” he answered.

“Ransom Hunter?”

“Yes, many times. She keeps linking him to the two of us and
the town’s investors. But you knew he could be living there. That’s the whole
reason we tried to swing out that way back in October.”

It was true. In October the two of them intended to make a
trip to the revamped ghost town because they’d heard about it through the
grapevine. Coincidentally, while Eve was busy researching potential sites for
Remy’s ghost hunting team to investigate, she came to believe Ransom Hunter
also lived there.

“Yes, but now we’re concentrating more on the paranormal
than an elusive author,” she said.

“An author you admire. I know what his books are about.
Whenever you read them, your lips move, your body shifts, your eyes widen. You
get into them to the point that I can imagine living out those erotic scenes
with you.”

Eve smiled at that. “I’d love that, Remy.”

“I’m sure you mean it. Understand what’s written in those
Vampire-For-Hire books is erotic fantasy. Trust me, I have engaged in the most
unorthodox relationships you can imagine and they were never easy, all ended
badly or lasted a night. I don’t want that for you.”

“Will you tell me about them? The relationships that went
badly, I mean. I’m only asking because I want to understand you.”