Surrounded [Running to Love 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)

Running to Love 5

Surrounded

Jackie Cutticio has found one of the loves of her life in Ashley Bell, who not only loves her back but is accepting of Jackie’s desire for a third in their relationship, a worldly man. They start their search at the Club.

Alistair Frayne owns the Club and hasn’t forgotten Jackie, who ran from him years earlier despite her strong feelings and her promise to wait. Both are astonished when they meet again. Coincidence or fate?

Alistair has never gotten over Jackie, and she has never forgotten him. Can Alistair accept a ménage, or will his dominant sexual nature preclude sharing Jackie? She dares to hope that this second chance, while being more than she deserves, will spell a fairy-tale ending, for Ashley and Alistair work well as a team, in bed and out. Their deep love for the same woman, returned in kind, may fulfill all of their hopes and dreams as the relationship evolves.

Genre:
BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length:
42,115 words

SURROUNDED

 

Running to Love 5

 

 

 

 

 

Allyson Young

 

 

 

 

 

 

MENAGE AND MORE

 

 

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

IMPRINT: Ménage and More

 

 

SURROUNDED

Copyright © 2012 by Allyson Young

E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-726-1

 

First E-book Publication: November 2012

 

Cover design by Harris Channing

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

 

Dear Readers,

 

If you have purchased this copy of
 
Surrounded
 
by Allyson Young 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 Allyson Young’s livelihood.
 
It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Young’s right to earn a living from her work.

 

Amanda Hilton, Publisher

www.SirenPublishing.com

www.BookStrand.com

DEDICATION

 

 

To Chris, who thinks I am “a really good storyteller” and can’t believe my husband lets me out of bed. May some of
your
fantasies come true!

SURROUNDED

Running to Love 5

 

ALLYSON YOUNG

Copyright © 2012

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

The Club didn’t feel quite the same. It wasn’t the familiar, secure place he’d built to provide somewhere for like-minded individuals to practice their varied sexual proclivities, at least not in this moment in time. He was off-balance and not certain he liked the sensation at all, even if thrills chased up and down his spine and settled at the base of his balls. The game wore on, complete with the ribald comments and jeers against the opposing team, but he couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t pay attention to anything other than how time ticked down in his own, far more important game of life. It wasn’t the semifinals. This was for the big brass ring.

Alistair watched as his future walked through the door of the Club. At least he hoped it was his future. Oh, he had fought against the idea, struggled with it ferociously, if only for a short time. He’d distracted himself by putting his nose in other people’s business, like Jace’s and Rowan’s not an hour ago, although he’d enjoyed that. And he had to be honest in admitting that being a party to Lacey and Greg’s last hurrah before they got down to the business of marrying and making babies had been a privilege. He’d failed spectacularly at reading little Alex Desjarlais on a night long ago, however, and three lives had nearly been wrecked. He thought he’d never forgive himself for being otherwise occupied that time, still mooning over the little blonde who had just come in, actually, all because her big brother Dave had come to visit and triggered his loss. Jackie Cutticio. One of the kids in that big Italian family who lived next door, the vivacious one, the one whose brother was his friend and comrade-in-arms. She’d been too young for him, and he had hidden his interest, successfully he’d thought, until that one time he and Dave had come home on leave.

Dave was initially pissed at him because he knew about Alistair’s sexual proclivities and was naturally protective of his lovely little sister. But his friend had been quick to realize that Alistair hadn’t really looked at another woman in all those intervening years. Oh, he’d trained some, and fucked a lot, but all without the emotional component that shone through when he looked at Jackie. Dave had said he’d have had to be blind not to see it. Alistair had seen her grow up and really liked the kid, even when he’d been an obnoxious one himself, much older and condescending. Her teen years had made him question his morality, and he had put as much distance as possible between them whenever he chanced to be home from his job and she was around. A mature, twenty-five-year-old man shouldn’t have noticed a fourteen-year-old, let alone felt those things for her, and certainly not fantasized doing certain things with her, to her. A normal man shouldn’t have wanted to crack her little boyfriends’ heads like a walnut or felt such absurd jealousy when she and her friends laughed and giggled and did all those things girls did together. He so wanted that attention for himself. But Alistair was nothing if not solid in his values, and he carefully concealed his interest and avoided her. That was probably why Dave hadn’t beaten the shit out of him and had even given his half-assed blessing when he saw Alistair’s reaction to Jackie that night.

But blessing or no, the nineteen-year-old Jackie had taken one look at him and it was like all his dreams came true. Her eyes had gone wide and then were demurely lowered, and there was no false modesty to it or any game playing. Alistair recognized a potential submissive from a mile away, and his Dom persona, never far from the surface, emerged and took charge. He fixed on Jackie and without a thought to the immediate future seduced her. He essentially unleashed her sexuality in the three days and two nights they had together, dominating her, giving her erotic pain, and fucking her until they were both senseless. And she had welcomed everything he’d dished out, still with her irrepressible spirit intact. That part of her was probably what he had missed the most, as foreign as it should have been, because it challenged his control. Then he went back to his job, his soldiering, and she wasn’t there, waiting for him as promised, when he was honorably discharged.

Dave told him she got scared when his parents started to pressure her to find a man and settle down and start raising bambinos. It wasn’t the life she wanted, and Dave was probably the only one in the family who truly understood that. However, he also diffidently explained Jackie had confessed something to him before she went off to college, something Alistair had somehow missed, hadn’t known about her. It nearly destroyed him to realize he hadn’t recognized what she really needed, and it threatened the hell out of him as a Dom. Not that he judged her. He accepted honest, consensual sexuality in any form. It was just that he had been blind and self-centered where she was concerned.

Jackie told Dave she was bisexual and that she’d been aware of it for years, even if she tried really hard to hide it. Alistair hadn’t taken the news well, he could admit that now. His possession of her had spawned total possessiveness, and he could never have imagined sharing her back then, and she’d known it. Jackie had read him better than he’d read her, and his ego had taken a devastating blow. Yes, he could admit that now. But back then he’d pretended his heart hadn’t been broken. He had taken his hurt pride and his savings and his knowledge and opened the Club, never once asking Dave where Jackie had gone. And Dave kept silent, letting Alistair take his licks like a man, smothering his feelings and pretending it didn’t matter, that he could just move on and have a life without her. And he had created a life for himself, if one that was rigid and sterile and joyless. He at least felt competent and necessary in providing a place for like-minded individuals to attend and act on their interests. There were only certain times that he forgot himself and got lost in the memories and longing.

When Ashley Bell had given him two names to vet all those years later, to ensure their suitability as potential Club members, he’d been poleaxed. She had been in Tulsa all this time, and he hadn’t known it. His goddamned pride had kept him aloof from everyone or maybe he would have asked Dave about her later, when it didn’t hurt so much. But he didn’t because he still hurt, and he pretty much drowned in despair upon learning about her proximity. He might have had another chance! Ashley had met her and was claiming her, bringing her to the Club, and he forecast that his intense need would literally kill him. But he could find no adequate reason to bar Ashley’s latest love interests, and he soon found out that Rowan wasn’t of interest to her at all. Just Jackie.

It had been awkward, to say the least, and he’d dithered and blithered like a little girl when they met again. Jackie pretended she didn’t know him, and Alistair had taken his cue from her response, although it had gutted him just to
see
her again and watch her leave with Ashley and goddamn Max Brewster. Good old Max. The threesome king. The one who never seemed to manage a relationship that lasted more than a night and hardly ever without a party of three. Or four. Although Max had shown his true colors of late and Alistair understood him far better, he hadn’t forgiven him. He’d never forgive him. Max’s Domme was better with the single tail than Alistair was, and that was saying something. But this woolgathering and what-ifing wasn’t making things any easier, and it was the final countdown.

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