Remy's Release [Submissive Sirens] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (12 page)

BOOK: Remy's Release [Submissive Sirens] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)
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“Don’t pat yourself on the back too hard.” Remy laughed. “Gentlemen”—she looked sternly back and forth between the other two—“the only reason I took the eggs Benny is because it has a perishable sauce. I love omelets and pain au chocolat, so don’t get all huffy. Knox doesn’t know me any better than the two of you. He just ordered smarter.” With that, Remy flounced into a chair and dug in.

“So where were you this morning?” Remy directed her question to Joss, who was loading his plate with steak and eggs.

“Drop off,” he replied shortly. “Had to get the intel we gathered last night to the checkpoint.”

Remy nodded, chewing slowly to savor the taste of the hollandaise. “Are we wheels up after breakfast then?” she asked Drake. He was always the one who coordinated their movements when they were on ops, and he was notorious for his precision.

“Nah.” Drake took a swig of orange juice, helping himself to more bacon. “Thought we’d take a few days to enjoy Monaco before heading home.”

Remy paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. They never did this. Their team always got in and out, finishing a job and heading straight back to the US. She chewed thoughtfully, not quite sure what to make of Drake’s answer.

“Besides,” Knox chimed in, “I want time to enjoy my prize.”

Remy rolled her eyes. “And what prize would that be?”

“Get your mind out of the gutter.” Knox laughed. “We’re staying in Monaco so we can spend time together. One-on-one.”

Remy’s jaw dropped, and she looked from Knox to Drake and Joss, wanting to see if Knox was kidding. “Really?”

“Really.” Joss speared a bite of steak on his fork, pausing before lifting it to his mouth. “Knox won the breakfast challenge, so he gets you to himself today. Tomorrow’s mine, and Drake will get you the day after.” He grinned, popping the bite of steak in.

“Don’t worry about missing me for two days, love.” Drake grinned wickedly at Remy as he tore apart a Danish. “We’re one-on-one during the day, but when you get back for the night, it’s lady’s choice. You’re more than welcome to stick with one of us, but bet your sweet ass, the other two will try to persuade you otherwise.”

Remy flushed, imagining the kind of persuasion Drake implied. There was no way she’d be able to resist them, and she was sure it would be more fun with all three of them playing with her.

“Okay.” She wiped her mouth daintily and stood up from the table. “Knox, you done? I suddenly have a strong desire to see the sights of Monaco.”

Knox grinned and threw his own napkin onto the table. He stood up and handed Remy her purse, grabbing his wallet and offering her his arm. “You boys have fun today,” he called over his shoulder to his brothers. He laughed as he ran out the door, pulling Remy behind him.

Chapter 10

 

Remy rolled over, stretching languorously like a cat. The last three days had been the happiest she could remember ever spending, and she savored the moment, allowing scenes to replay in her mind before opening her eyes.

The day she’d spent with Knox had been spent sightseeing in Monaco. They’d visited the residence of the prince, as well as other museums and historic sites.

Remy smiled to herself as she remembered strolling hand in hand through plazas, eating gelato, and talking about trivial things, and she’d loved every moment of the carefree atmosphere.

At one point, they’d gotten caught in a sudden sun-shower and had started to run for cover along with the other people stranded outside. It became obvious pretty quickly they couldn’t get any wetter, so they’d stopped running. Knox had turned to her, cupping her streaming face in his hands and kissing her senseless. They’d returned to the suite soggy, much to the astonishment of Drake and Joss, and Remy had laughed as she’d stripped out of her soaked, clinging clothing on her way to the shower. She wasn’t at all surprised when Knox joined her, and even less surprised when the shower they were taking to warm up turned even hotter as Knox boosted her up and lowered her down on his waiting erection. He took her twice in the shower, making love to her so passionately she cried when she came.

The next day, the day she spent with Joss, they had curled up together on the sofa in their suite and watched zombie movies after Drake and Knox had left to go snorkeling. Both of them shared a passion for zombie flicks—the campier the better—and they’d eaten popcorn, hollered at especially awesome stunts, and booed when characters they liked got eaten. It took them three times as long as it should have to watch each movie because of the frequent breaks they took, breaks spent making love on the sofa, the floor, and anywhere else that took their fancy. She’d never felt so relaxed.

That night, while watching television, all four had been pleased to see a news report detailing the arrest of Contois. He would be tried in front of a UN tribunal, and they were happy they’d been able to help put a cockroach like him out of business.

Her day with Drake had been spent on Monaco’s famous beach. They’d napped in the sand, hunted seashells, and played in the surf together, the contrast of the cool water and Drake’s warm skin delicious to feel. Remy had licked salty droplets of water off his skin, and he’d kissed her while they swam. He’d also tried to drown her when he tossed her shrieking into the ocean, Remy remembered wryly, but she’d paid him back in kind when she swam after him underwater and took out his legs. She’d laughed when he came up sputtering.

That evening he’d brought her back to a candlelight dinner in their suite, and after they’d finished eating, he’d stripped her bare and laid her out on her bed. Expecting him to make love to her, Remy had moaned in delight when he smoothed oil-slickened hands down her back, kneading her muscles and swirling his hands over her flesh until she felt like a wet noodle. Pliant and content, Remy had been happy to let Drake prop her ankles on his shoulders when he finally took her.

Next, she let her mind drift to the wicked nights she’d spent with her men. They’d taken her separately and together, just as Knox had promised, and each night they’d push her boundaries even farther. She loved when they dominated her, and she lost count of the orgasms she had with them. Their control of each sexual situation raised her arousal so that she’d fight them, and that’s what really got all of them off. She knew they were strong enough to deny her and force her to do what they wanted, and they knew the gift of her trust was what made the pleasure they all took so mind-blowing. They’d given her a safe word when they’d started what Drake called her training, and so far she’d been happy not to use it. Even at her most frustrated, when she swore she’d kill for an orgasm, she trusted them to rocket her up so high with pleasure she wouldn’t want to come down.

Remy sighed, opening her eyes at last. As fantastic as the last few days had been, it was time to go back to reality.

She got up and had gone to her suitcase, staring down into its depths as she decided what to wear, when a wicked smile crossed her face.

On a whim, she’d brought some seriously naughty lingerie, not really having any idea if she’d have a chance to wear it. This seemed like the perfect time, she mused, to give her men a show. It would mark their last day in Monaco and hopefully make it unforgettable.

Remy donned a pair of sheer stockings along with a matching garter belt and laced an open-topped corset beneath her breasts so they were supported on pillowy satin. She glanced around the room for the final touch and spied what she was looking for.

She remembered the “duffel of hope,” as Knox had put it, and went to see what else was inside. She had a truly wicked idea and hoped she’d find what she needed to make in happen. She unzipped the duffel and pulled out a slender cone-shaped object, exactly what she wanted.

Recalling when her friend Jessie had given her some extremely explicit advice regarding the seduction of the Grantham triplets, Remy pulled out a bottle of lube and poured some onto her fingers, which she then used to grease up the butt plug she was holding. Bending forward, she used one hand to open her cheeks, and with the other hand slipped the plug into place. She had to grit her teeth to keep from groaning at the fullness of the plug. No matter how many times the triplets took her ass the initial penetration always burned.

Once the plug was settled and she was convinced she could walk comfortably with it tucked high in her asshole, Remy padded silently toward the bedroom where she could hear their voices. She paused outside the door to put on a pair of heels and was just about to open the door when a snippet of conversation caught her attention.

“She has to see we can’t keep doing this.” Joss sounded tired, like he’d been repeating the words for some time.

“I know, but we took that risk when we got involved with her. She might not want to stop.” Drake sounded annoyed.

“Well, what’s the worst that could happen if we tell her we want out?” Knox sounded hopeful, but Joss was quick to squash it.

“The worst that could happen is she could find another team.”

“Dammit, that’s not what we want!” A crash sounded, as if Drake had slammed his fist into something solid. “Honestly, how much does this matter to her? We’ll just have to explain ourselves, make her see our point of view. It makes total sense for us to stop this insanity. It’s only a matter of time before it blows up in our face. We’ll just have to tell her we don’t want to do this anymore...”

Drake’s words, and his brothers’ responses, became impossible to hear over the ringing in Remy’s ears. She stepped back from the door, almost stumbling in the heels she’d put on only moments before, and she moved as quickly and as stealthily as she could back to her bedroom.

By the time she’d closed the door behind herself, her breath was coming in sharp pants that hurt her chest, and her eyes were welling up.

Dammit, I will not cry.

Remy angrily dashed the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, drawing her pride around her like a cloak. She would not sit here and wait for whichever triplet was unlucky enough to lose the coin toss to come in and deliver the news. No, she couldn’t bear it.

She stripped off the sexy lingerie, berating herself for having been so foolish. She should have known this would never work, and now she’d done everything she promised herself she wouldn’t do. She’d compromised herself professionally and personally, and there was no way she’d ever be able to repair the damage. She was going to lose her team no matter how she looked at it, and the thought made her feel sick. She wrenched the butt plug free, welcoming the pain it caused. She had done this to herself, so she had every right to hurt. She straightened up, mentally closing herself off from the pain, both emotional and physical, and moved quickly into action. She dressed hurriedly in cargo pants and a T-shirt, putting on a pair of running shoes and throwing her hair into a careless ponytail.

Remy moved quickly around the room, knowing what she had to do. She dumped the contents of the duffel of hope on the bed, not bothering to glance at what other secrets it contained. She quickly filled the duffel with her necessaries—toothbrush, tampons, a change of clothes, and her passport and wallet. She tossed her cell phone onto the bed, deciding to leave it behind. Joss would use it to trace her location. She’d get a disposable one once she was a reasonable distance away.

Looking around the room for anything of importance she might have missed, Remy allowed herself a moment to feel the heartache threatening to overwhelm her. Then she gathered herself, ghosted out of the room and to the door of the suite, opening it silently and slipping through without a sound. The tears started to fall as she made her way quickly to the elevators, and her vision was blurred as the chime sounded and the doors hissed open.

Remy kept her eyes averted as she entered the elevator. There were three men already inside, and she didn’t want them to ask questions. As the doors hissed shut, Remy became aware of the strangeness of the situation. The men had totally ceased talking and were riveted on her, and two of them were edging closer to her. She looked up to tell them to back off, but her neck prickled warningly as she recognized one of the men. It was the security guard from Contois’s château who had walked in on the scene she and Drake had created in the study.

“Bonjour, Mrs. Joyce.” His smile was ghastly.

Remy dropped the duffel and prepared to fight, but it was too late. The last thing she felt was a blow to her head before she dropped to the floor, unconscious.

Chapter 11

 

Remy groaned as she came to. The pain in her head was immense. She squeezed her eyes closed and fought an almost overwhelming urge to throw up. She cracked an eye open, fought the bile that rose in the back of her throat, and looked around her to see what had happened.

The first thing she became aware of was that she was lying on something cold. When she tried to sit up, however, she found her hands were bound behind her back, and she immediately began flexing her fingers to try and restore the feeling to them. She bent them this way and that, tensing and relaxing her hands so the numbness in them would go away. She knew she’d need her hands in order to escape, and she grimly flexed her bound wrists to ascertain how tight the binding was, wincing when whatever had been used to secure them together cut into her flesh. She couldn’t see it, but the way it pressed, she’d be willing to bet it was a plastic zip tie.

While she worked her hands, she stilled, becoming aware of another presence close by. She took a deep breath and forced her eyes all the way open, tearing up almost immediately at the way the light seemed to lance directly into the wound on the side of her head, sending painful jabs up behind her eyes. She gritted her teeth and forced her eyes to remain open, blinking the tears away and looking around.

She was in a room in some sort of barn or stable. At least, that’s where she thought she was, based on the hay strewn about and the smell. She cautiously rolled to one side, coming to a sitting position with her hands still flexing behind her, and continued to survey her surroundings. She tensed when she located the source of the other presence in the room. The security guard from Contois’s party sat not six feet away, lounging on a bench against the wall. A bare bulb illuminated the room, and light filtered through a dirty window, emphasizing the mold in the hay and the animal droppings scattered on the floor. Remy shuddered, realizing she was in serious shit, both literally and figuratively.

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