Texas Sirens 7
Siren Unleashed
Twin detectives Ben and Chase Dawson have been sent to investigate an unusual murder at a resort owned by Julian Lodge. Julian wants them to protect the prime suspect, a young submissive who was the last person to see the victim alive. The job seems simple until Ben and Chase discover that the beautiful submissive they both desire has a dark past.
Natalie Buchanan came to the Willow Fork Tranquility Spa seeking sanctuary after escaping the clutches of a twisted sadist. Working as a massage therapist at the resort has given her a chance to heal as well as access to the spa’s secret dungeon. But when one of her regular clients ends up dead on her table, Natalie fears that the monster she once escaped has come back to claim her.
As Natalie rediscovers the beauty of BDSM with her twin Masters, all three will be forced to confront her past.
Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among siblings.
Genre: BDSM, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys
Length: 109,695 words
SIREN UNLEASHED
Texas Sirens 7
Sophie Oak
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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SIREN UNLEASHED
Copyright © 2012 by Sophie Oak
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-984-5
First E-book Publication: November 2012
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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www.SirenPublishing.com
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DEDICATION
In the end this book is about being brave enough to care about someone. Too often in our lives we give up because friendship seems like such a dangerous prospect, but we lose so many good voices when we allow the negative ones to win. So this book is dedicated to new friends – Fiona Archer and Jayne Rylon. I don’t know where it’s going, but I am glad I met you.
SIREN UNLEASHED
Texas Sirens 7
SOPHIE OAK
Copyright © 2012
Prologue
Houston, TX
Nat groaned and wondered why her head was so heavy.
“Shhh. Be quiet.” A harsh voice bit through the darkness.
Damn it. She had to open her eyes. Why did it feel like she had weights drawing the lids down? Party. She remembered a party. Right? No. Not really a party. She’d been at the club. Haven. She liked Haven. It was where she’d met Tony. She wasn’t madly in love with Tony, but they had fun.
Until he’d wanted her to sign a contract and take a collar. Why did guys want to move so fast?
And why the fuck was her head swimming?
She forced her eyes open. Well, tried. Her eyes couldn’t be open. It was still so damn dark. Where the hell was she? Through the haze of headache and nausea, she thought back to the last moment she could remember.
Tony, smiling at her, but it was a weird smile. He had her in handcuffs, part of their negotiated scene, but he hadn’t said the words she would have thought he would say. He’d talked about someone.
Master Hawk.
She didn’t like Master Hawk. She thought he was a douchebag pretender sadist who didn’t give anything back. And his two subs were sheep.
Nat was a sub, but she wasn’t a sheep. She’d never signed a full contract. Doubted she ever would. She enjoyed submitting for play and to relax. Otherwise, she kind of wanted to punch the dude who told her what to do, but after the day was done, yeah, it was a way to unwind.
Why couldn’t Tony see that?
“Keep quiet. Maybe he won’t come in.”
Who the fuck kept talking?
“So who won’t come in? Someone turn the fucking light on.” Was this some weird sort of sensory deprivation scene?
“Shut up. Do you want to get your ass whipped? If you don’t tone it down, you’re going to get all of us in trouble.” The words sounded hissed through angry lips.
She tried to stretch, but her hands met cold metal bars.
Bars? A little bit of panic started to thrum through her system.
“Please try to be nice,” a new voice said. “She’s new here. She doesn’t know the rules yet.”
She sort of kind of recognized that voice. What was her name? Kat? She’d seen her around the club. The kind of sub that made Nat’s skin crawl. She would call herself “i,” never thinking to capitalize because she wasn’t worthy of a capital letter. Kitty? She was with Master Hawk, a pale shadow of an actual woman. She was pretty in a particularly bland way since she never showed an emotion and referred to herself in the third person.
She was a true slave. Nat didn’t want to have anything to do with that. The whole term “slave” was what had forced her hand with Tony. The minute he’d called her slave instead of sub, she’d known the relationship was just about over.
She’d just wanted a little fun, a little stress relief. Why had he tried to force her to be a slave?
“Where am I?” This time she kept her voice low. She wanted to shout and scream and rattle the fucking cage, but she needed to assess the situation first.
“How many times do I have to tell you to shut the fuck up?”
Nat really didn’t like that nasally voice. What was Hawk?
??s other slave called? She barely registered in Nat’s brain except that the slightly older woman seemed to shoot daggers the younger one’s way every time she thought no one was looking.
The softer voice responded, and a warm hand covered her shoulder. “You’re here. And that’s all that matters.”
Here? “Where is here?”
Miss Nose Breather snorted. “Welcome to Hell. Try not to get the rest of us killed.”
Killed? Nat forced herself to take a long, deep breath. Her head was pounding. She was in the dark. The last thing she could remember was Tony grinning down at her as he held her hand out toward another man.
Oh, god, she’d been drugged. And now she was in a dark, metally place. A cage. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She was in a cage.
“Where the fuck am I?” She reached out and grabbed the bars of the cage and pulled. She tried to stand, but her head met hard metal.
“Shhh. It’s our nighttime cage. It’s sleepy time.” Kitten. Her name was Kitten.
“I want out.” She couldn’t be stuck in a cage. She had to work. She had a full client list tomorrow. Her rent was due, and if she didn’t get that check to Lars, he really would pack her shit up and toss it out in the garbage bin.
She couldn’t be stuck in a cage.
Nasally Whine started in again. “There’s no way out. So shut the fuck up or one of us is going to get killed. Probably me. It’s always fucking me. He’s going to kill me now that he has a younger slave.”
A choked sob cut through the silence. The older slave was crying.
The door opened, and Kitten’s hand slid over Nat’s. “Don’t worry. The pain won’t last forever.”
The cage opened and Nat was pulled out.
The other girl was right.
This was Hell.
Chapter One
Four years later
Willow Fork, TX
Natalie Buchanan hated dead bodies. Yet they just kept turning up. At least she hadn’t been the direct cause of this one.
“How long until the ambulance is here?” Nat asked. She needed to get out of the small room, but she couldn’t force herself to move. If she moved, even an inch, she just might run, and she couldn’t do that. She was a professional. She could handle this.
Chris Linwood sighed, looking down at the body briefly. “It might be a while. The hospital told me there was a bad traffic accident out on the highway, and living bodies take precedence over corpses.” He turned his green eyes toward her. “Are you all right?”
Her hands were shaking. Her gut was in complete turmoil. Stan Kirkman was lying on her massage table, his eyes wide open and glassy, nothing left to animate his big body. He’d been the self-proclaimed low-priced Furniture King of East Texas, his commercials running on local stations late at night. He’d been coming to her once a week since the Willow Fork Tranquility Spa had opened.
Why, oh why did he have to have a heart attack now? She wasn’t at all surprised that the man had up and died. He looked perfectly fit, but she’d seen how much bacon was in the dude’s diet.
“I called the cops, too. It’s procedure. Melissa is out in the lobby, keeping everyone out.” Melissa was the receptionist. She was also a terrible gossip. She would be on the phone to everyone while she watched the door. Chris took her hand. “Gaby’s on her way. Is there something you want to tell me?”
She felt her eyes widen. “No. Why?”
Chris was the second-in-command to his boss, Gabrielle Reed. One of his main jobs was handling employee relations. He was a good supervisor. Nat was beginning to wonder if he would still be her supervisor in a few minutes. He was looking at her with deep sympathy in his eyes.
“Chris, when I left him, he was perfectly fine. I didn’t do anything unusual. It was exactly the same massage I’ve been giving him for over a year. Deep tissue. He liked it a little rough.” Shit. That sounded bad.
His lips turned down. “Sweetie, I can smell the sex in this room.”
Nat took a deep whiff and sure enough, there it was. “Eww. Damn it. I should have known he wasn’t taking a freaking nap.” She strode out the door and into the tiny hallway. Lit with serene lights, one whole wall was a rock waterfall. Soft, melodic music played. None of it soothed her right now. She forced oxygen into her lungs.
Chris followed her out. “What are you trying to say, Nat?”
“Stan pays for double the time, but the last hour, I lock him in and let him sleep. He claims it’s the only way he can relax.” Claimed. She had to use the past tense because he was dead. Stan could relax forever now.
“Nat, who saw you in the last hour?”
Who saw her? Holy crap. Was he asking for an alibi? “He had a heart attack, Chris. I didn’t magically give him a heart attack.”
“I’m not saying you did. I am saying that a prominent member of this deeply closed-minded society is lying dead on your table, and he seems to have had some form of sex before he died. I’m a little worried about you.”
Gaby Reed rounded the corner, out of breath and slightly disheveled. Gaby was in the latter half of her thirties, a pretty woman with light brown hair and gray-green eyes. Those intelligent eyes were wide as she stopped. “What the hell is going on? I got a 911 page to come here.”
Chris pointed to room number three. Gaby stuck her head in.
“So you think the people around here are going to think I was doing Stan the Furniture Man?” She hated those commercials. They were loud, so much louder than the rest of the shows on at three in the morning. Sadly, Nat watched TV at three in the morning because she didn’t sleep much. She’d cringed every time Stan started yelling about low prices, but the man had tipped well.
And now that she thought about it, he did have like five kids. Maybe this was the only place he could jerk off. But she shouldn’t be punished for it.
Chris sighed. “You’re practically a nun, sweetie. I know that. I also know you’re lonely. Loneliness can cause even smart people to do stupid things.”
Her skin crawled at the thought of climbing on the table with Stan, though Chris was right about the lonely part. “I didn’t sleep with Stan.”
Leaning against the non-watery wall, Chris sighed. “Okay. But there will be rumors. This town runs on them. Of course, I don’t know that it will affect you. It’s not like you spend a ton of time in town.”
She preferred the resort and her little living space. She had nice strong locks on her doors. She’d installed them herself, not trusting the ones the resort had installed.
She didn’t go to bars. Ever. She didn’t hang out with friends. She took the occasional babysitting job out at the Barnes-Fleetwood ranch, but that was the extent of her social life. She spent her free time with a seven-year-old and an overly possessive four-year-old. She did her job and she went home.
What the hell would she do if she got fired?
She would have to move. She would have to find another job. An apartment. Probably a way less safe place. Tears filled her eyes. She didn’t want to move. She was finally starting to find some normalcy.
Pressure started to build. God. She didn’t want to go there again. She’d been so good, so calm for months. She couldn’t go back to that dark place.
“Calm down, sweetie. It’s going to be okay.” Chris gave her a little hug. This, too, was something she’d finally gotten used to again. Touching. Affection. It was easy to take it from Chris. He was gay and happily settled down with a former hockey player and a beautiful little girl they’d adopted. She could handle Chris touching her.
But lately she’d been wondering if she couldn’t handle an actual straight guy.
It certainly wouldn’t have been Stan.
Gaby walked back out, her face a grim mask. She pocketed her phone. “The cops are on their way up. You will not say a word until Cal gets here. He’ll be here in a minute. He had to wait for Nita to come watch the kids. Now, give me a rundown. That’s Stan Kirkman, right?”
Nat went over everything again. She had the feeli
ng she would be telling this completely boring—except for the dead body—story over and over again all day long. When she finished, Gaby nodded.
“I’ll need you to pull his file and any notes you have on him. I’ll call the business office. We have to inform the insurance carrier.”
“But I didn’t do anything.” Chaos. It was what she dreaded. Nat’s deepest fear was being out of control again. She was going to lose her job, and she couldn’t think of a way to fix it.
“I have to tell them, Nat. Even if he just had a heart attack, we’re probably looking at some sort of lawsuit. People love to sue hotels and spas. Calm down. We’ve got great insurance.”
Nat forced herself to chill. She wasn’t thinking straight. Panic was threatening to take over. She’d been a massage therapist for years. She knew what happened. She’d always carried insurance because Gaby was right. Clients liked to sue. It was just the cost of doing business. Would she be placed on leave while they investigated?
“The good news is we don’t have a long list of clients this afternoon. Only you and Gretchen were working,” Gaby said. “I’ve had Melissa cancel the rest of the clients. We can reopen tomorrow. And I’ve got a call in to Julian Lodge.”
There was a long sigh. “You don’t have to call that guy, do you?” A paunchy, middle-aged man strode into the hall. He was dressed in a khaki uniform and looked completely incongruous given the elegant, Asian lines of the spa. He stared at the waterfall wall. “What the hell is this place?”
“It’s a spa, Sheriff,” Gaby replied. “It’s supposed to be soothing.”