Pleasing Her Racy Doms [Racy Nights 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

Racy Nights 6

Pleasing Her Racy Doms

When Cherilyn Barker casts aside her inhibitions with Doms Thayer Denning and Evan Rydell after hours in the gym they co-own, she awakens her submissive desires. Her late husband has been dead for eighteen months, and Cherilyn is lonely. Evan and Thayer seem like the perfect answer to her fantasies, until someone breaks into the gym and leaves behind a tie that belonged to her late husband.

Thayer has recently broken up with his on-again, off-again sub, and is just looking for a woman who will love him. Life seems perfect when Cherilyn becomes not only his sub, but also the woman he loves. Until the man playing cat and mouse with the Racy police kidnaps her, that is…

Evan Rydell has never truly given his heart to a sub, until Cherilyn falls into the role with him and Thayer. He’s in love with her, and when she disappears one stormy night, he will move heaven and earth to find her.

Genre:
BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre

Length:
50,065 words
 

Racy Nights 6

Tara Rose

MENAGE EVERLASTING

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting

PLEASING HER RACY DOMS

E-book ISBN:
978-1-62242-756-7

First E-book Publication: May 2013

Cover design by Harris Channing

All art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

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PUBLISHER

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

Dear Readers,

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Pleasing Her Racy Doms
by Tara Rose from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy

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

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www.SirenPublishing.com

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For David. Thank you for your unconditional love and unfailing support.

PLEASING HER RACY DOMS

Racy Nights 6

TARA ROSE

Copyright © 2013

Cherilyn Barker had never seen so many residents of Racy, Indiana, in one place at the same time. Thayer Denning and Evan Rydell, handsome, charming co-owners of The Fit Bod, Racy’s only gym, were hosting a benefit to raise money for the restoration of Market and Main Streets in downtown Racy.

They were donating all the proceeds toward the restoration fund, and Cherilyn had collected over one hundred tickets alone. Evan and Thayer had also asked four others to collect tickets at the door, and as Cherilyn scanned the crowd once more she estimated that there were at least five hundred people packed into the gym.

Less than a week ago, an EF3 tornado had wiped out most of downtown, including a large percentage of the historic buildings along both those streets. To see this many residents here tonight, and at seventy-five bucks a head yet, made Cherilyn proud to be from Racy.

Cherilyn was also a member of The Fit Bod and had gladly volunteered her help tonight. She would never admit this to anyone, but she’d done so more for the chance to see Evan and Thayer dressed up than anything. Not that they didn’t look yummy in the workout clothes she was used to seeing them in, but watching them move among the crowd and talk to everyone, dressed in tuxes and Evan sporting his usual cowboy hat, was both a visual treat and a painful reminder of her constant loneliness and horniness.

Her husband of less than three years, Chuck Barker, had been killed eighteen months ago while on active duty in Afghanistan, and all the support she’d received from friends and family hadn’t dimmed the pain. Only time had done that. Julie Carruthers, Racy’s favorite psychologist and now submissive to Maddox McCree and Sean Brennan, had assured her that even though the memories would never completely fade, she would one day be able to move forward with her life.

Julie had been right. Cherilyn was ready to do that, but she didn’t know where to turn. Her job at City Hall kept her busy during the day. Cherilyn was one of dozens of administrative assistants for the city, and her duties ran the gamut from logging complaints to sending out delinquent tax notices. Her friends kept her sane the rest of the time, but the simple truth was that Cherilyn was lonely and missed being in a man’s arms. She missed sex.

Was that wrong? Julie had assured her that it wasn’t, but Cherilyn couldn’t help but think that it made her a cold, cruel woman to even be thinking about it. What would Chuck have wanted for her? She wished she knew.

Her ticket-taking duties had been over now for more than two hours. The door prizes had been given out, and most of the food from the lavish buffet was already gone. But aside from eating a few things and drinking champagne, all she’d done since was stare at the crowd and admire the way everyone was dressed…and watch Evan and Thayer, of course. She strolled over to the bar for another glass of champagne. Might as well get a bit toasted while she continued to watch her two favorite men mingle with their guests.

She knew nothing about their personal lives, other than that both frequented the private, exclusive BDSM club that Maddox ran in his house. They didn’t talk about their lifestyle at the gym, and she never asked. She simply worked out and gawked at them from afar.

Thayer leaned against the end of the makeshift bar, on his cell phone again. That was the third time tonight, and he didn’t look any happier about this particular call than he had during the last two. Why didn’t he just turn the damn thing off? Cherilyn was close enough to overhear the call this time.

“Cassie, this isn’t the time or the place.”

Cherilyn tried not to listen, but his voice was so distinctive that it floated above the din of conversation in the room.

“Fine. I’ll drop them off tomorrow.”

She spotted Evan on the other side of the room watching Thayer with a look of concern on his face.

“There’s no reason for you to have your key back. There’s nothing of yours left there except the two boxes, which I said I would drop off tomorrow. I have to go.” He disconnected the call and glanced around. Cherilyn quickly averted her gaze and pretended to be fascinated with the print on the wall behind her. He and Evan had photos of professional fitness models framed and hung all over the gym as inspiration.

A whiff of expensive-smelling men’s cologne wafted past her nose just before she heard Thayer’s sexy voice right behind her. “That one always reminds me of you.”

She turned to face him, glancing around to see who he’d been talking to. “What?”

“That fitness model always reminds me of you.”

“Seriously?” She studied his face, convinced he was only teasing her or that he was drunk, but saw nothing that would lead her to believe either.

“Yes, Cherilyn. You’ve made amazing progress since you started coming here six months ago. Not that you looked terrible to begin with. I didn’t mean it that way.”

Cherilyn had to consciously close her jaw because she realized it was open. It wasn’t what Thayer had just said. It was the fact that she’d never heard him sound so unsure. But then the phone conversation he’d just had came back to her and she reined in her mental giddiness at his obvious compliment to her physique. “Thank you.” It seemed an inadequate answer, but she was still stunned. And she was more than a bit curious about the enigmatic Cassie.

“Great crowd, no?” Evan strolled up, a big smile on his handsome face. “Cherilyn, thanks again for helping out tonight.”

“I didn’t do much. Just stood there and smiled, saying ‘thank you’ to everyone who handed me a ticket.”

“But you did it with such grace and style.” Cherilyn laughed at Evan’s comment. He was always saying silly things like that, and she couldn’t remember ever seeing him with a serious or sad look on his face. His blond hair fell over his forehead, and her fingers itched to push it back into place. How could eyes be that blue? They were stunning this close up.

Thayer shook his head. “Take off the damn cowboy hat, would you? You’re in a tux.”

Evan grinned. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. My brains might fall out.” Except when he was working out, Evan always had on a cowboy hat. Tonight’s hat was tan, but she’d seen him wear others of varying colors.

Thayer’s expression turned to one of annoyance, and Cherilyn wondered if that had more to do with his recent phone call than with Evan’s comment. “How can they fall out? They’re not in your head.”

Evan laughed, and so did Cherilyn. She couldn’t help it. The good-natured teasing banter between these two was a familiar part of her time spent at the gym, but she knew underneath it they were actually great friends.

“Don’t laugh,” said Thayer. “It only encourages him.”

“She can encourage me if she wants to,” said Evan, giving her a wink.

Cherilyn nearly choked on the sip of champagne she’d just taken. She couldn’t remember Evan winking at her before. Had she imagined it?

“Oh, come on,” said Thayer, still addressing Cherilyn. “Don’t you think wearing a cowboy hat with a tux is just a bit ridiculous?”

She studied Thayer’s face for a second. His features were more angular than Evan’s, but no less handsome. His dark, close-cropped hair always reminded her of the way Chuck had worn his because of his military background, but she’d never seen eyes the color of Thayer’s. They were pewter, like storm clouds, and they suited his personality so well. He always gave the impression of a coming storm, though not a destructive one. The storm he embodied was forceful and a bit dangerous, but also cleansing and powerful.