Winning Her Racy Heart [Racy Nights 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

Racy Nights 1

Winning Her Racy Heart

When submissive Kari Tye returns home to Racy, Indiana, and opens a sex shop, she contends with more than the town’s surprise. Doms Noah Wells and Adison Kincaid are back in her life and vow to win her heart. But what will happen when the secret she left behind in New York City catches up with her?

Noah was not only the town loser—he and Kari despised each other. But now that he’s turned his life around, can he and Kari put the past behind them? Adison took Kari’s virginity in high school, only to later enter a short-lived marriage with a woman he barely knew. How can she ever forgive him for that, let alone become his sub?

Both men want her, and they soon realize they’ll have to share her, because she won’t choose between them. But Kari has a secret she left behind in the Big Apple, or so she thinks…

Genre:
BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre

Length:
51,514 words
 

Racy Nights 1

Tara Rose

MENAGE EVERLASTING

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting

WINNING HER RACY HEART

E-book ISBN:
978-1-62242-308-8

First E-book Publication: March 2013

Cover design by Harris Channing

All art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

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PUBLISHER

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

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Winning Her Racy Heart
by Tara Rose from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

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This book is dedicated to Diana. Thank you.

WINNING HER RACY HEART

Racy Nights 1

TARA ROSE

Copyright © 2013

Kari Tye broke a freshly manicured nail while using a crowbar to pry open the large crate two burly men had just dumped in the middle of the floor. They could at least have offered to help her open the damn thing. Obviously they weren’t local to Racy, Indiana.

The residents in her hometown would have opened the crate and helped her hang the neon sign above the front porch. The fun part would have been the look on their faces as they realized the name of her shop. Once they did, they would have clucked their tongues and gossiped about it for the next ten years, while finding excuses to come in and have a look around. Just out of curiosity, of course.

By the time she got the crate open, sweat had collected along her scalp, forcing her already curly mess of hair into a frizzy nightmare. She really needed to find a salon. The nail place was just around the corner, but she’d probably have to drive into Indianapolis to get her hair done the way she liked it.

Her underarms were damp, and now the new parquet flooring was covered in sawdust and packing peanuts. She sat back on her heels and wondered again for the fiftieth time that day just why the hell she was doing this.

“Is that the sign? Finally.” Her ultra-perky BFF Alexa sprinted toward the crate, dripping paintbrush still in hand.

“Alexa, the paint!” Kari hadn’t meant to yell quite so loudly, but she also didn’t want to clean neon pink paint from the floor. For one thing, it didn’t go well with the sawdust.

“Oh…” Alexa stared at the paintbrush in her hand as if she’d forgotten it was there. “Sorry.”

Kari chuckled as Alexa headed for the sink in the back room. Alexa was a dingbat on the best of days, but Kari had never had a more loyal or fun friend. It was impossible to be angry with her. She scooped the rest of the packing peanuts out of the crate and stuffed them into a plastic garbage bag. “I thought they stopped using these years ago.”

“They did.” Alexa came back into the room, sans brush but with a new pink streak across her left cheek. It almost matched the pink streaks in her hair. “Did you look at it yet? Did they get the colors right?”

“Yes. It’s perfect.”

Together, they tried to lift it out of the crate and nearly dropped it as they eased it back down. “Yeah, uh, I guess it weighs a bit more than I expected.” Kari had to laugh or she’d cry. What the hell had she been thinking when she decided to buy this hundred-year-old house on the outskirts of town and turn the downstairs into a sex shop?

She must have been breathing in too many chemicals from the Hudson River for the past fifteen years. Now that she was back in Indiana, she could breathe in the smells of corn and horse manure again. Yeah. That ought to clear her head.

Alexa stated the obvious. “We’ll need help to hang it.”

Kari scooped her cell phone off the counter. “I promised myself I wouldn’t keep asking them for help, but Dad will know someone who can do it.”

Alexa rolled her eyes. “You might as well hire your parents, Kari.”

Kari laughed. “Can you see Dad working here? Then again, he can talk anyone into anything. We’d have more business than we could handle.”

After Kari listened to the latest local gossip from both parents, her father promised he’d find someone to hang the sign. Then it was only her mother on the phone, saying she was coming over to see the progress. Kari tried not to sigh out loud.

“Mom, there’s nothing to see yet. Unless you count the parquet floor with sawdust and paint drippings all over it, large holes in the plaster walls that are taking me ages to repair, and a family of mice behind the wall in the back room that have evaded my every attempt to catch them.”

Her mother made sympathetic noises, but now Kari was on a roll. “My plans to open in four months, just in time for Valentine’s Day, seem like a joke. The way things are going, we’ll be open in time for next year’s Valentine’s Day, at the earliest. And it’s not only the house repairs that are slowing me down. It’s getting merchandise delivered.”

Finally, her mother said she’d come over another time, and Kari was able to end the call. Her cell rang so soon afterwards that she assumed it was one of them again, and didn’t bother checking the caller ID before she answered.

It was one of her suppliers, giving her the bad news that her shipment of floggers was going to be delayed yet again, possibly for another month. After threatening them with cancelling the entire order unless she had them in two weeks, as originally promised, she ended the call then shook her fists at the ceiling and yelled in frustration.

All the reasons she’d decided to leave New York before the trial and open her own business no longer seemed rational, noble, or brave. Instead they seemed like the worst decisions she’d made since dropping out of Columbia University to move in with The Sir at the tender age of twenty-one.

Kari shivered as a breeze blew in through the chinks around the glass in the front windows. The upstairs ones were brand-new, but who knew when the downstairs ones would be replaced? She’d been promised they would be three weeks ago. It was already late October. If they didn’t get them replaced soon, this shop would be too cold to work in.

She could hear Alexa whistling in the other room and assumed she was finishing painting the trim. Kari glanced at the sawdust. She should clean it up, but her motivation had been derailed as soon as her thoughts had wandered toward The Sir. Why did thinking of him still stop her dead in her tracks? She plopped on a stool and rested her chin in her hands. Three years hadn’t been enough time to chase away the demons. How much time would she need? Would it ever be enough?

Then again, it wasn’t as if her life had gone smoothly since he’d sent her away. The past eighteen months had been a whirlwind of tough decisions. If things had turned out differently, she and Alexa would still be living in Manhattan, working at What’s Your Pleasure. “Yeah,” said Kari out loud, “and I wouldn’t be starting my own business or have moved back home.”

“You say something?” Alexa walked into the room, carrying the dripping paintbrush again.

This time Kari just smiled. She’d be very glad when the painting was done. Then she could have the floor cleaned by pros. “I did, but it was nothing important.” She hopped off the stood. “I'm going to work on the plastering.”

“Cool. Mind if I put on some music?”

“Not at all.”

The smooth voice of Alicia Keys filled the shop. Kari retrieved her supplies from the corner, covered her jeans and sweater with a painter’s apron, and went to work on the walls.

* * * *

“Beautiful day,” said Buddy Tye as he and Noah Wells rambled along Lawnview Drive in Buddy’s Ford F350.

Noah made a grunting noise. “Yeah, gorgeous.” He didn’t want to talk about the weather. He spent every day at work talking about the weather. Wind studies, weather patterns, and the latest research on tornadoes took up his entire workday, every day. “Kind of day that makes Notus very happy. Plenty of wind to run those turbines.”

Noah was supposed to be on vacation this week from his job at Notus Power. He’d planned to spend the entire week buried in bottles of Bourbon Barrel Warmer from Upland Brewing Company and watching hours of mindless cable. Noah’s boss, Tim Johnson, had insisted he take a week off after Noah fell asleep at his desk three days in a row.