[Siren Publishing: The Bellann Summer ManLove Collection: Erotic Alternative Contemporary Menage a Trois Romance, M/M/M, HEA]
Brady Keystone survived being shot, a fire, and rebuilding his bakery. A date with fire chief and widower Dominic Naess represents hope in a sea of pain and money problems. Wrong, big-time wrong. Sure, he shouldn’t have done the twirling cartwheels with Dominic. Turning around to find Dominic gone sucked. Hiring Sam brought wonderful support. Maybe he could have love and crawl out of his massive debt.
Dominic screwed up by ditching Brady. Marrying and having a family to attain his life goals smacked him in the face after the ecstasy of being with Brady. Somehow, he had to regain Brady’s trust. Meeting Sam became a bonus and a chance at a dream triad relationship.
Undercover agent Sam Mallard is investigating a possible drug trafficking operation at the local bakery. Debt equals desperate measures in his book. Falling for Brady and Dominic weren’t part of the plan. Revelations almost kill. Adoration becomes the hero in this tale of deceit, suspense, and love.
Note: This book contains double penetration.
A Siren Erotic Romance
Bellann Summer is a Siren-exclusive author.
More From Granite County
Brady Keystone sat in the corner of the waiting room and people watched. He enjoyed observing the diverse styles of dress and how individuals acted in different situations. This activity also kept him from dwelling on his money problems. In an instance, a man with a gun had altered everything in his life. He may have survived the bullet, but his plans and health would forever be changed.
The fire that destroyed his bakery while he was in the hospital, recovering from his wounds, took his livelihood. Insurance stretched only so far in rebuilding his bakery, and Brady had been forced to take out a hefty loan to compensate the equipment upgrades required by state regulations. Once the construction was finished and his store reopened, Brady hoped his temporary secondary plan to bring in extra money worked out.
The front entrance opened, catching his attention. Brady watched a man, using a walker, take slow precise steps toward the receptionist counter. The glimpses of a ragged line of stiches dividing a swollen knee, between a pair of long shorts and white compression socks, said the man had knee surgery.
A ponytailed teenager, wearing a sports uniform of blue and red shorts and tank top, sat watching a gameshow playing on the wall-mounted television. Metal crutches leaned against her chair and a neon pink wrap around her ankle told Brady what injury she was here to rehabilitate. The blue gym bag with red piping and an orange basketball embroidered on the side had Brady deducting the type of team the girl played for.
The front door of the rehab center again opened, interrupting Brady’s contemplation of people’s activities. High quality athletic shoes, and gray sweat pants encasing long legs came into view, followed by the metal wheels of a wheelchair. Brady’s gaze took in the man’s slim waist and wide shoulders covered in a dark T-shirt. The sight of the shirt’s material stretching tight over the man’s chest giving Brady a small present in a day that would soon become painfilled thanks to a physical therapist who liked to push his patients to their limits.
Brady’s heart skipped a beat. The man’s sandy-blond hair, piercing green eyes, and squire jawline were familiar. He knew this man. About two months ago the local paper had featured Dominic Naess on their front page after he saved a little girl from certain death in a housefire. The handsome fire chief had faced down the deadly danger and received horrible injuries, making the incident breathtakingly exciting.
Dominic’s gaze rested on Brady. He looked down at his lap, intimidated by the intense expression in the man’s eyes. Deep inside, yearning bloomed. Brady wanted to get closer. A sudden need to step into the chief’s embrace and stay there forever grabbed a hold of him.
Brady stamped down those emotions. The article had stated that Dominic was a widower with five children. Even in a wheelchair, the bigger man could break Brady in half for his unwelcome advances. Brady bit his lip while turning over another thought. Maybe, he could go over and thank Dominic for his heroic service.
On the other side of the waiting area, the man-of-pain, otherwise known as a physical therapist stood in the doorway leading to the therapy rooms. The big smile on the man’s face could be interpreted as welcoming to some. Brady saw that grin as an invitation into the torture chamber. How the guy kept his tone pleasant and full of encouragement while Brady at times had tears running down his face and swear words zinging through the air was beyond him.
He glanced one last time at the blond man in the wheelchair. Regret and relief intertwined. The therapist’s interruption had stopped Brady from potential embarrassment, or maybe a missed opportunity. Brady held his breath and prepared himself for the fiery pain of moving.
A small groan escaped, but he managed to stand. The tight sling keeping his shoulder stable and restrained, made his efforts anything but graceful. After four months and multiple surgeries, the destroyed tendons and muscle still protested the healing process. Damaged, tight scars covering his arm resisted his efforts to bend his elbow. Forcing his battle-worn body to function, Brady walked across the room.
Anger simmered. He sold cookies and donuts for a living and specialized in creating wedding cakes. Why had someone used his bakery to stalk an old boyfriend? Why had they shot him? One moment he was dipping donut batter into hot oil and the next, staring at the wrong end of a gun held by a man he’d never met before.
Memories of his shoulder exploding in agony under the impact of the bullet and his body flying backwards against the industrial deep fryer would haunt Brady forever. The moment his arm plunged into the vat of boiling oil never left him. If good could be found, it lay in the miracle that his hand had escaped the oil’s destruction. If that had happened, amputation would have been his fingers fate.
Brady had collapsed onto the floor, his body going into shock from blood loss and oil burns. The whole incident lasted mere minutes, but the affects would stay with him a lifetime.
“How are you doing today?” Dennis gestured to the first room on the left. “Let’s start by testing your range of motion.”
Hands wrapped around his waist and the bigger man lifted Brady off his feet. Before he could direct Dominic to the bedroom, Brady found himself bent over the back of his couch.
Brady’s pants were opened and ended up puddled around his ankles. His shirt landed on the floor.
“It’s been so long since I’ve felt the hard body of a man pressed against mine.” Dominic’s hands glided over Brady’s shoulders and down his arms. Brady waited for Dominic to comment on the scars covering his shoulder or the wrap around his elbow. Instead, the big man said, “I’ve missed this. You are perfect.”
The sexy man explored Brady’s back before cupping his ass and following the contours of his thighs, down to his calves, ankles, and feet.
Brady jerked when Dominic’s wet mouth sucked on his ass cheek. Strong hands held him in place as the man licked his way over to Brady’s crack. Precum leaked from Brady’s dick, spurred on by the way Dominic worshiped his body.
His cheeks were parted and Dominic’s tongue bathed Brady’s hole. Brady reached down and wrapped a hand around his dick. His fingers grew wet with the need dripping from the end.
Dominic’s tongue breached his ass. Damn, the man knew what he was doing. Brady’s muscle gave under Dominic’s insistent ministrations.
“I’m going to blow into pieces, never to be put back together again,” Brady warned through clinched teeth.
Dominic chuckled and warm air spread over the sensitive endings of Brady’s hole.
“You’re going to need more than my spit to take me, frosting.”
Brady leaned further over the couch and reached between the cushions. Triumphant that his search achieved reward, Brady held up a bottle of lube.
Dominic pressed the length of his body against Brady’s back and swiped the bottle out of his hand.
“That’s convenient,” Dominic commented.
Brady shrugged. “Porn’s fun and I live alone.”
He glanced over his shoulder to see Dominic taking his wallet from his pocket and pulling out a condom packet. The rustle of clothing and Dominic’s zipper opening told Brady they were getting to the main event. Halleluiah.
Brady spread his legs wider and leaned further over the couch. Fingers, cool with gel, touched his puckered entrance. Dominic dipped one digit in and began working to loosen Brady’s muscle.
“You beg so pretty, frosting.” Dominic slid another finger inside. “Is that what you’re asking for?”
Brady closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing through the pinch. His arousal skyrocketed. Ass play did it for him every time. A third finger squeezed in.
“I’m going to come.” Brady’s fingers sank into the material of the couch in an effort to ward off his approaching orgasm.
The hard, blunt head of Dominic’s cock pressed against Brady’s hole. Before Brady could push out to ease the way, Dominic shoved until his flesh split Brady wide enough to slide into Brady’s most private space.
“I need a minute.” Brady thought he might need more than a minute. Dominic was a big man with a cock to match.
Time to adjust was not to be. Dominic sank in until he could go no further.
“Dom.” Brady wondered what the hell was going on. He wouldn’t have pegged Dominic as a selfish lover.
Dominic grabbed Brady’s hips in a tight grip. Brady tried to shift, but was held in place.
“Damn it, talk to me,” Brady demanded.
“It’s been too long.” Dominic’s words sounded forced. “I can’t hold back.”
Brady looked over his shoulder and froze. Dominic’s eyes were shining with arousal, his jaw hard with desire. The man’s lips were pulled back to show clinched teeth. Rather than their sexual encounter being a fantastic event, Dominic looked to be in pain.
Dominic’s hips bucked and his cock shoved deep. Brady turned back around and held onto the couch for what he figured might be a rough ride. Any thoughts of objecting ended when Dominic nailed his prostate and every nerve in his body sang with joy. Yeah, that spot rocked.
The rhythm Dominic set up was hard and fast. Brady wanted to reach down and jack off but needed to hold onto the couch or risk a material burn to his chest and stomach. Dominic’s hips stuttered and his cock swelled, stretching the edges of Brady’s hole.
Brady’s belly tightened and streaks of lightening shot into his groin until his balls pulled up and volleys of cum spurted from his dick.
A deep groan erupted from Dominic and the big man stopped moving in mid thrust. The fingers on Brady’s hips dug into his flesh and warmth filled the condom.
Brady expected Dominic’s arms to hold him close and maybe a few slow thrusts to conclude their lovemaking. That didn’t happen.
Dominic pulled out. Brady turned to see the big man keeping the soiled condom in place with a finger pressed against the top edge of the latex and his other hand cupping the end of his cock. Without a word, Dominic walked across the room to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Brady frowned. Dominic hadn’t even taken off his clothes, just unzipped his pants.
Brady decided he was being over sensitive and reading too much into Dominic’s actions. Once the man had cleaned up, they would have a cuddle and maybe go a second round. This time in the bedroom.
Brady left the living room and went into the kitchen to clean up a bit. He flipped the faucet lever on and waited for the water to turn warm. As he let the water wet a clean cloth, he heard the bathroom door open. He expected Dominic to come into the kitchen. When the big man didn’t appear, Brady squeezed some of the water out of the rag, and left the kitchen. Brady glanced around. The bathroom door was open and the rest of the apartment was empty.