Mastering Angela [Passion Peak, Colorado 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  Passion Peak, Colorado 2

  Mastering Angela

  When Angela Davidson asks Doms Nash Stonecraft and Ian Malloy to train her as a submissive, she gets more than a flogging demo. She’s in danger of losing her heart to the two charismatic, sexy Doms. But what will happen when they discover her secret?

  Nash Stonecraft doesn’t fall in love. When you love someone, they die. After losing his parents at a young age and having to manage his family’s business ventures on his own, Nash lives a life of mystery and intrigue, including running a private BDSM club in his home. But he’s lonely and unfulfilled, until he meets Angela.

  Ian Malloy has been unlucky in love, and he hopes Angela will change all that. But can he share her with Nash without jealousy ripping him apart?

  When a fake ghost hunter searching for buried money on Nash’s property shows up and Angela gets caught in the crossfire, both men might lose her forever.

  Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre

  Length: 77,95 words

  MASTERING ANGELA

  Passion Peak, Colorado 2

  Tara Rose

  MENAGE EVERLASTING

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting

  MASTERING ANGELA

  Copyright © 2013 by Tara Rose

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62740-466-2

  First E-book Publication: August 2013

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All art and logo copyright © 2013 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,

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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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  DEDICATION

  To my readers. Thank you for your continued support and encouragement. I’m so pleased you’ve come along with me into a new series.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  About the Author

  MASTERING ANGELA

  Passion Peak, Colorado 2

  TARA ROSE

  Copyright © 2013

  Chapter One

  Angela Davidson could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen Nash Stonecraft out in public since he’d returned home to Passion Peak, Colorado after earning his master’s degree, but she’d be damned if this wasn’t the second time in one week. “Nash, I think you’re stalking me. First I see you at Expressions and now here.” She laughed but then reined it in as a look somewhere between surprise and annoyance passed across his handsome face. Ouch. So much for her attempts at humor.

  “Hi, Angela.”

  She stared into his eyes, struck by how deep blue they still looked, even outside in the bright sunshine. Perhaps it was because they were shaded by his dark-brown cowboy hat? “Are you here to watch the parade?”

  Duh. Juniper Street was lined on both sides with people doing exactly that. Could she sound any denser? The Founder’s Day parade had been rescheduled because heavy thunderstorms had prevented it from occurring the week before, but there was no threat of rain on this sultry mid-August Saturday.

  “I am,” he said, the corners of his mouth upturning slightly. She couldn’t blame him for finding her question amusing. Nash glanced behind her. “Are you here with anyone?”

  “Not today.” She hoped he wouldn’t ask about Brett Warner, her longtime ex-boyfriend. Talking about him would spoil a perfect day. “How about you?”

  “Ian Malloy is supposed to be joining me. Do you know him?”

  Of course she knew him. Ian had been a patient at Passion Peak Dentistry, where Angela worked as a dental assistant, since before she had been in grade school. “Yes, I do.”

  He eyed the brown paper bag in her hands. “What did you buy?”

  The same craft tables that had been out the week before during the Founder’s Day festival had been set up again today at the east end of the street. Angela pulled out the delicate necklace of woven leather and red and orange beading. The colors had caught her eye, but it was the workmanship that had compelled her to buy it. “Isn’t this beautiful? Do you know Sandra and Chris Noel? They make this jewelry and normally sell it on consignment at Nancy’s Novelties on S
hoshone Road.”

  A quick flash of recognition passed across his face as he brushed a finger along the necklace. “This is really pretty. And yes, I know them. They’re regulars at Indulgence.”

  Indulgence was the BDSM club Nash operated in the basement of his house, and it wasn’t exactly mainstream talk in this town. Angela was a bit surprised to hear him mention the name so casually in this crowd. She put the necklace back in the bag and craned her neck to the west as the sound of the Passion Peak Cougars Marching Band reached her ears. It was tradition for them to open the parade each year.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you there with Brett,” he said quietly.

  She snapped her gaze back to his handsome face. As far as Angela was concerned, Brett was history. He’d cheated on her one too many times, and she was done with that game. “I’m not with him anymore.”

  His gaze roamed over her tank top and then back up to her face. He wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he’d just checked out her boobs. Those deep-blue eyes bore into hers, full of questions which, if he asked them, Angela probably wouldn’t have been able to answer. This man had a presence about him that made her want to kneel, call him “Sir,” and do anything he asked her to.

  “Why don’t you stop by again sometime?”

  Well, she couldn’t have orchestrated a more perfect invitation than that. What was it about this man that made her want to throw him to the ground and rip off his clothes? He looked nothing like he had in high school. Late bloomer? Or had she simply not looked past the skinny kid with the perpetually sad face who’d been so shy that most people hadn’t even known his name? “I didn’t realize it would be okay to come alone.”

  Why the hell had she said that? It made her sound pathetic, like she was fishing for dates. That was the last time she was eating cold pasta for breakfast. It obviously fucked up her brain cells.

  The corners of his mouth turned up again. “You’ve broken up with Brett before, if the rumors in this town are true. Is it over for real this time?”

  Ah, he didn’t know the whole story, then. At least, she hoped he didn’t, because if he was teasing her about Brett’s latest indiscretion, she’d take her necklace back out of the bag, wrap it around his balls, and squeeze until he begged for mercy. “It’s for real, Nash. Didn’t you hear what he did with Becca Rawlings?”

  Nash frowned and shook his head. The sound of the band was closer now, and people around them were beginning to cheer. Soon, they wouldn’t be able to have a conversation because of all the noise. Why the hell had he brought up Brett’s name? She had a perfect chance to spend an hour or so in Nash Stonecraft’s company, and now it was tainted by the mention of that hose bag.

  “No, I didn’t hear,” he said, without a touch of humor or cruelty in his voice. Angela breathed a sigh of relief. Teasing from him she could handle. Downright nastiness, no way. “What happened?”

  “You don’t look around on YouTube much, do you?”

  His face registered confusion. “What?”

  “They took a few home videos. Blurred the naked parts because, you know, otherwise they couldn’t have posted them.”

  To say he looked shocked was an understatement. “Angela, I don’t know what to say.”

  She shrugged. Not because it didn’t hurt like hell, but because she didn’t want him to think she was looking for sympathy. “His loss.”

  “I’ll say.”

  Angela stared at him. Had he simply said that because it was the polite thing to say, or because he found her attractive? She’d spent ten minutes chattering away like an idiot at Expressions salon earlier in the week when he’d come in to buy hair product, and even though she’d managed to steer the conversation toward them exchanging cell phone numbers, he hadn’t called her. It occurred to her he might be seeing someone, or he might have a sub. Or two or three, even. She really had no clue what he did in his personal life. No one did.

  He glanced around. The band was no more than three hundred yards away now. The bass drum reverberated through the pavement, and the Passion Peak Cougars fight song filled the air. Nash stepped a bit closer to her, and Angela was treated to the scent of leather combined with something musky and warm. It made her pussy contract, and she had trouble keeping her eyes from wandering down to his crotch. “Angela, may I ask you a personal question?”

  Ask me anything. “Of course.”

  “Why did you keep taking him back? That wasn’t the first time he cheated on you, right?”

  Ah, the million dollar question. Why, indeed? How could she explain to him why she’d taken Brett back more than once when she couldn’t even explain it to herself? “He was comfortable and familiar.” That was the best excuse she had. She’d been using it for years.

  He nodded, and now she definitely suspected he was just being polite. “I get that. It’s like an old pair of jeans. They have holes in the knees and are splitting at the inseam, but you keep wearing them.”

  Okay. He’d brought this on himself by mentioning “jeans” and “splitting at the inseam” in the same sentence. Her gaze drifted down his shirt—perfect color on him, by the way. It brought out his eyes. But it didn’t stop there. She stared at the bulge in the front of his jeans. Nope. No splitting of seams there. How unfortunate.

  “If you know what I mean.”

  The humor in his voice snapped her gaze back to his face. His eyes danced with light and she was at a loss for words, which didn’t happen very often. It was suddenly way beyond hot outside. Angela had a mental image of them both stepping across the gates into hell. She glanced at the band and had to practically shout the next words. “We won’t be able to hear each other talk for a while.”

  “That’s true. So, Angela, you don’t need to come to the club with someone, you know. Just let me know which evening you’ll be there. I’ll make sure you aren’t bothered by anyone.”

  How could a girl turn down an invitation like that? “How about Friday?” Did he have any idea how fucking gorgeous he was when he smiled?

  “Friday it is. See you then, Angela.” He turned as Ian Malloy came sprinting toward them, then glanced back toward her and winked. “And make sure to wear that necklace.”

  By the time she’d formulated the perfect sexy comeback, Ian was standing on the other side of Nash and the band was directly in front of them. She forced her eyes toward it, even though she couldn't have cared less, because the sight of both Nash and Ian was simply too much for her raging hormones and confused thoughts right now.

  Nash Stonecraft had just invited her to Indulgence, had asked her to wear her necklace, and had promised to keep her from being bothered while she was there. And to think she’d almost skipped the parade today.

  As soon as this was over she was ducking into Taylor Drugstore across the street to buy a giant Snickers bar. Maybe two. Only one of two things would help keep her raging hormones at bay, and she wasn’t getting any hot sex tonight, so chocolate would have to do.

  * * * *

  Nash wanted so badly to turn to his left and kiss Angela, right there in the middle of the damn street, even with Ian and half the town of Passion Peak watching. Screw it. At least he’d give them a show, and maybe teach them a thing or two about how to kiss a beautiful woman. When she’d struck up a conversation with him at the salon earlier in the week it had taken every ounce of composure not to fall all over himself and act like an idiot.

  The only reason he hadn’t called her was because of all the shit going on at the house. He’d been too fucking busy to even think about seeing her, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been constantly on his mind.

  Right now, though, he had to pretend to concentrate on the parade. The only reason he’d agreed to stand here in the hot sun and watch it was because he needed Ian’s help at the house later. Ian loved parades, so Nash was here to watch it with him. Ian was his best friend, and those didn’t grow on trees.

  Ian, along with Ron Carson, were longtime friends and Doms who frequen
ted his club. Both men had promised to help him remove a ninety-year-old oak tree that had been struck by lightning the other night. The tree was past the point where he could save it. Nash could hire someone to do it, but working outdoors relieved stress and helped him stay in shape, plus he hadn’t hung out with Ian and Ron outside of the club in far too long.

  Ian leaned across him and said hello to Angela. A hot wave of jealousy coursed through Nash’s body as he watched her pretty face light up. She knew Ian, of course. As soon as Nash had asked her if she did, he’d felt foolish for having done so. He knew where Angela worked, and he knew that Ian was a patient there. The man had a cavity once a month. He was surprised that Ian and Angela weren’t more than good friends, because Ian had certainly mentioned her enough times over the years.

  She said she’d be at the club on Friday. It was only Saturday. Nash knew he’d be thinking about her at his club, alone, all week long. As Ian said something to him about the marching band’s new uniforms being the same colors as the Home Depot logo, Nash’s mind drifted back toward the reason he’d been in that particular store earlier that morning, buying a length of thick chain.

  The tree had been struck by lightning just after the power went out during the thunderstorm. His backup generator powered the electric gate, but not the security cameras. But Nash didn’t need a security camera to know who had been on his property that night. He’d watched the whole thing from inside his house.

  Two men had scaled the fence around the property, taking advantage of the power outage to try and plant stationary cameras. He knew that was what they’d been trying to do because the dumbasses dropped them and didn’t bother retrieving them before they left after nearly getting killed by the tree.