Remy's Release [Submissive Sirens] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)
Read Remy's Release [Submissive Sirens] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Online
Authors: Charlotte Smith
Tags: #Romance
Submissive Sirens
Remy’s Release
Remington Park can't have everything she wants. At least, that's what she tells herself…
Torn between loving her career as a former US Marine–turned–American operative and wanting to admit she likes to be feminine (she really, really likes to bake), Remy's feelings flare out of control for her three sexy-as-sin teammates, leaving her wondering which path to choose.
Triplets Drake, Joss, and Knox Grantham have worked with Remy for years, and all three have feelings for her that go way beyond the professional. They worry that their penchant for dominance and the serious side of kink will have Remy running away, but their teammate is too hot to ignore.
When an op goes bad in Monaco, Remy and the triplets will have to work separately and together to bring down an arms dealer, and they'll have to face the truth of their passions.
Note: There is no sexual relationship or touching for titillation between or among siblings.
Genre:
BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length:
51,920 words
Submissive Sirens
Charlotte Smith
MENAGE AMOUR
Siren Publishing, Inc.
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IMPRINT: Ménage Amour
REMY’S RELEASE
Copyright © 2012 by Charlotte Smith
E-book ISBN: 978-1-61926-658-2
First E-book Publication: June 2012
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
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.
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
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Remy’s Release
by Charlotte Smith 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.
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This is Charlotte Smith’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Smith’s right to earn a living from her work.
Amanda Hilton, Publisher
REMY’S RELEASE
Submissive Sirens
CHARLOTTE SMITH
Copyright © 2012
“Bitch!” an outraged voice shrieked to a chorus of feminine laughter. “You promised you wouldn’t count!”
“I can’t help it! And besides, Prue,” the second woman replied primly, “I never said I wouldn’t count. I said I wouldn’t cheat. Big difference, love.”
Remington Park rolled her eyes and felt her forehead begin to scrunch as she struggled not to laugh, watching as two of her best friends prepared to throw down over a game of poker. She raised an eyebrow and smiled indulgently at them. They never actually fought for real. Just said a lot of hilarious, catty things they would never say in real life, since real life was often a matter of life and death rather than a matter of pairs and straights.
Remy sighed, brought back to reality by her grim thoughts. For women like them, real life and playtime couldn’t be more different, particularly since they all played as hard as they worked. Remy reminded herself firmly that this was playtime and work was a world away, and she tuned back into the moment, reaching once more for her glass.
Their friend Cleo watched the scene unfold, the martini she was drinking forgotten as she laughed at the antics of her friends. The fifth member of their group, Lila, elbowed Remington as the accuser, Prue, puffed herself up in outrage, looking for all the world like a pissed-off cherub.
“Counting cards is cheating,” insisted the offended card player. She raked a hand through her mop of blonde curls and pointed a polished, pink fingernail at the other woman. “You’re totally buying the next round.”
Remington watched as the cheater prepared to defend her honor. The woman drew herself up to her full height, which wasn’t impressive as far as Remy was concerned. Jessie measured five and a half feet in her four-inch Jimmy Choos. She sputtered in mock outrage.
“Look here, you...imp!”
Remy snorted into her own martini over that one. Jessie’s insults were often ridiculous, and her delivery, while daunting because of the clipped syllables of her English accent, was laughable. Whatever she lacked in delivery, however, she made up in sheer cheekiness.
“Just because you can’t count cards doesn’t mean you should accuse those of us who can of these terrible crimes. I am not cheating. And I am not, despite your insistence to the contrary, buying the next round. You lost with your adorable little pair of jacks, and losers buy.” Jessie glowered at Prue, her long, dark hair making her look more than a little sinister.
Just as Prue—Prudence, although she’d half-nelson anyone who called her that—was about to respond, Remington decided she’d had enough. Cleo and Lila were trying desperately not to laugh, good drinks were being ignored, and girl time was being wasted.
“Girls.”
Just like that, the attention shifted to Remy. She grimaced on the inside. She didn’t always want to be the Big Bad Wolf in her circle of friends. It wasn’t her fault she stood five feet ten inches in her bare feet. She softened the interruption with a smile.
“Seriously, ladies, who cares who’s buying the next round? Since we’re talking rounds of spa treatments, it’s not like anyone’s really going to lose here. Unless”—Remy quirked her eyebrow again, her lips lifting in a mischievous smirk—“we extend spa treatments to include boob jobs...”
The shrieks of laughter drowned out anything else she might have been about to say, and that was fine with her.
Remy looked around the table, drinking in the sight of her best friends. They didn’t see one another nearly often enough. Usually they had to wait to get together during this annual holiday. Remy preferred to think of it as rehab, summer camp, and a slumber party all rolled into one, even if it only lasted two weeks. That’s why they made the time count. They always rented a villa, chalet, or penthouse for their annual get-togethers since they really didn’t want to be bothered by pesky things like room service. Room service put all of them on edge since none of them particularly liked strangers in their midst.
Although there was that one time, Remy reminisced silently, when the gentleman delivering their meals had been a Dom they’d ordered from a local BDSM club...now that had given the phrase “room service” new meaning. Remy had learned a whole lot that day about submission, since she’d watched the Dom play with Lila. Lila was a bit of an exhibitionist, and Remy had been curious. She’d always wondered what it would be like to submit to a strong man, and the things the Dom had done to Lila had made Remy restless, giving her a delicious sense of nervousness as she pictured being the one to bow down and get spanked pink. In addition to their occasional forays into naughtiness, the girls drank girly drinks, went for spa days, and did all the things they didn’t, no, Remy corrected herself, the things they couldn’t do in real life.
And there was lots they couldn’t do in their day-to-day lives because each woman at the table was a professional badass. They had all met during their time training at Parris Island because they had all started military careers as US Marines. They had each recognized in one another a kindred spirit, and they had worked together whenever they could, helping each other out and busting each other’s asses. They had all proven themselves to be more than capable of meeting the grueling requirements of the Marines, and they established reputations for themselves as tough-as-nails bitches no one fucked with. Each woman had seen her share of combat, and each woman had moved into a line of work that was physically and mentally demanding. That’s why these girls-only annual vacations were so important. They grounded each woman, reminded her of what she’d gained, and what she’d given up to get where she was. Remy was reminded of exactly that as Prue looked forlornly at her pair of jacks.
“Damn,” Prue sighed, “what I wouldn’t give for a real pair of Jacks. Big ones, with blue eyes and tight butts.”
Remy felt herself relax. This was more like it, talking about hot guys, even ones that didn’t exist, and being able to be honest with themselves and each other. She looked forward to this part of the vacation every year, when she and the girls could stop pretending there was nothing more to them than their careers.
“Hey, how’s that servant of yours, Jessie?” Cleo drawled in her Louisiana twang, the look in her eyes wicked as she gazed at her friend. “Last I recall seeing him, he was smokin’ hot in his uniform.”
“He’s actually my butler, manservant, and handler,” Jessie corrected with a slight smile. She was an agent who worked solo, using her position as Lady Jessamy Cumberland as a front for her activities for MI6. Now that’s a story, Remy thought. Jessie had survived a seriously dysfunctional aristocratic family, training at Parris Island in secret, and working her ass off to salvage something of the life her brother had gambled away after her mother died. Now she lived independently with a gorgeous hunk of Scotsman as her butler, and Remy was almost positive there was more to their relationship than met the eye. Remy liked to think of Jessie as James Bond refined.
