Option Number Three: A Trident Security Novella

Book 10: Trident Security

by Samantha A. Cole

Genres: Contemporary Romance; Erotic & Steamy Romance; Polyamory Romance; contemporary romance; menage; MMF; erotic romance; BDSM; steamy romance; menage romance; MMF Romance

Synopsis

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas ... or does it?

Dominant Mitch Sawyer has been lusting after submissive Tori Frejya since she first stepped into the private BDSM club he owns with his cousins. But he had waited too long to approach her, and she now belongs to someone else, while he watches from afar. When Tori asks him for a favor that involves going to Vegas with her and Dominant switch, Tyler Ellis, Mitch can't say no.

After a night with Tori and Tyler that goes way out of his comfort zone, Mitch is left confused and unsure for the first time in his life. He now faces three options—but will he have the courage to choose the one he never knew he wanted?

**The books of the Trident Security series and its spinoffs can be read as standalones, however, for optimum enjoyment they are best read in order.

Release date: February 26, 2017

Publisher: Suspenseful Seduction Publishing

Print pages: 132

Content advisory: Swearing, open-door sex scenes, BDSM, menage.

Sample

As he opened his laptop again, a knock sounded at his office door. He glanced at the clock: 5:07 p.m. Less than an hour before the doors opened for the night. “Come in.”

The door swung open, and Mitch’s dick twitched when he saw who was standing there and what she was wearing. Tori Freyja had been a submissive member of the club for the past six months. She’d joined after she’d helped Russell Adams, a Navy veteran who’d been an integral part in saving Brody Evans’s life. Brody was one of the employees of Trident Security, having been on the same SEAL Team as Ian and Dev. He’d been kidnapped by the guy who’d been obsessed with his now fiancée, Fancy Maguire. Russell had been stabbed during the attack but had held on to consciousness long enough to let Ian and the police know what’d happened. After he’d recovered from surgery, Ian had introduced him to Tori. Sweet, sexy, submissive Tori.

The introduction had nothing to do with romance, or the lifestyle, and everything to do with what Tori did for a living. She trained service/assistance dogs for veterans with PTSD, or who had sustained a disabling physical injury during combat, as well as children with autism. She was also involved in a Bullmastiff rescue and had placed one of the big dogs with another club Dom, Parker Christiansen. After Russell had been released from the hospital, he’d gone to Tori’s ranch just north of Tampa where he helped train the dog that was going to help him when he had flashbacks or bouts of depression.

And now Tori had been granted a free membership. Well, it hadn’t exactly been free—Ian had paid for it. He’d said it was the least he could do for a woman who was doing so much to help veterans deal with the day-to-day repercussions of their tours of duty. Ian was a hard-ass most of the time, but deep down, he had a soft heart. Falling in love with his wife had just made that softness rise to the surface more often.

“Good evening, Master Mitch. I don’t mean to disturb you, but I wanted to ask you something, and Master Dennis asked me to give you the bar inventory list since I was headed back here.”

She held up several pieces of white paper, but his gaze wasn’t on them. Instead, he was drinking her in. With long, wavy, dark-blonde hair and brown eyes, she stood five foot six, and he guessed she was a size 12 or 14. He loved women with Marilyn Monroe curves. Her club wear for the night was a black bustier with a pattern of white skulls and swirls on it. A matching pair of panties and black thigh-highs completed the erotic look. She had simple, black slippers on her feet, which many of the submissives wore unless told otherwise by their Doms. They weren’t necessary down in the pit as the floor was cleaned every other day, and no drinks other than plastic water bottles were allowed down there. Many Doms preferred their submissives in bare feet, and this way they didn’t have to worry about broken glass or anything that might cut them. As for the garden, there was soft, faux grass in there, so, again, it was safe for the subs.

Staring at her, he was grateful he was sitting behind the desk and she couldn’t see his growing hard on. He’d been interested in playing with her after she’d completed her submissive training, but he’d waited too long, and she’d been snatched up by another Dom. “Come in, Tori. You may have a seat.”

“Thank you, Sir.” She placed the papers on the desk in front of him, then gracefully lowered herself into one of the two guest chairs.

“You’re here early. Where’s Master Tyler?” Tyler Ellis, a stockbroker, who was bisexual, had signed a contract with the pretty submissive about three months ago. The majority of the time he was a Dom to female submissives, but he was known in the club as a switch and sometimes sought out a male Dominant to give him the flipside of a power exchange. Before Mitch’s younger cousin Nick had gotten into a committed relationship with Ian and Dev’s teammate, Jake Donovan, Tyler and Jake had scened together occasionally.

“Sir had a business meeting after the market closed, so I came in with Cassandra. He’ll be here later, and we’ll be following her home at the end of her shift. Master Stefan is working this weekend.”

Cassandra Myers was one of the club’s submissives who waitressed several nights per week. In addition to her generous pay and tips, she was granted play rights when she wasn’t working, and Mitch was glad to hear she already had an escort home later, since her Dom wouldn’t be here. For over seven months now, a serial killer had been targeting submissive women in the lifestyle and torturing them with a bullwhip before killing them and dumping their bodies. Public and private BDSM clubs within a hundred-mile radius had been on high alert and doing what they could to ensure their submissives’ safety. However, no matter what security measures they took, it hadn’t been enough to prevent ten women from being viciously murdered. Most of them had disappeared following an evening of playing at a club. One of the mandatory policies Ian, Devon, and Mitch had put in place at The Covenant in response to the slayings was no female submissive went home without an escort. If they weren’t under contract with a Dom, then either the Dom they’d played with that night or one of the Dungeon Masters or security personnel followed them home. All the Doms had been stepping up to help with the single subs.

“Good. Then what was your question?” Mitch scratched the coarse hair covering his jaw. He’d stopped shaving a few weeks ago, as he did every once in a while, just because it was tiresome to do every morning. In another few weeks, he’d get tired of the beard and mustache and get rid of them again.

Her cheeks blushed, spiking his curiosity. But like a good submissive, she held his gaze while in conversation. If they were scening or following club protocol, her gaze would be shifted downward unless otherwise told by the Dom she was interacting with. “Um . . . well, I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor. Please don’t feel like you have to say yes, but I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind going to Vegas with Tyler and me this weekend.” Mitch arched an eyebrow at her but let her continue. “There’s a wedding in my family. My cousin, Celia, is getting married, and our other cousin Tiffany is also in the lifestyle. She was in a contracted relationship for over a year, but it recently ended. Thank God. Her Master wasn’t a good one, and I think he’s in the lifestyle for all the wrong reasons. He didn’t treat her right, and I was glad they broke up. But the problem is, Bruce is friends with the groom and will be at the wedding also. While she could probably bring someone who isn’t a Dom, she’d feel better with one. And none of the Doms in her club are willing to come between them and escort her. It’s a public club in Vegas, and I hate the fact that she goes there—it’s not safe. Anyway, I was hoping you’d be willing to take her to the wedding. She’s really sweet and a lot of fun. Whether you negotiate with her or not is up to you two. I’ll pay for your flight and room and—”

Mitch held up his hand. “Stop right there, Tori. If I agree to go, there is no way I’m letting you pay for anything for me. I’m very capable of paying my own way.” In addition to the club, Mitch had invested well—through Tyler’s company and with his uncle’s advice. Devon and Ian’s father, Mitch’s Uncle Chuck, was a self-made real estate billionaire, and as a result, the rest of the family had reaped the benefits of Charles Sawyer’s savvy mind.

Her gaze dropped to the desk. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you or imply anything, Sir.”

“You didn’t, Tori. Look at me.” Her eyes lifted again. “How old is Tiffany?”

“Twenty-seven. Three years younger than me, Sir.”

And seven years younger than Mitch. That was doable. He couldn’t believe he was considering going to a wedding in Vegas. It wasn’t that he hated weddings. They were just a reminder that everyone else around him was falling in love and getting married, but he’d yet to find a woman he was willing to spend the rest of his life with, much less a few months. However, if he stayed in Tampa this coming weekend, he’d be subjected to another reminder anyway. Ian and his wife Angie were throwing a barbecue in Ian’s Oasis, as the “backyard” between the last two buildings in the Trident Security compound had been dubbed. Angie was pregnant, and they were celebrating the announcement, along with the return of Ben “Boomer” and Kat Michaelson from their honeymoon. “How long has she been in the lifestyle?”

“Five years, Sir.”

“Did she approve you asking me to escort her?”

Tori nodded. “Yes, Sir. I wouldn’t have asked you if it wasn’t okay with her.”

“Was her Dom abusive?”

“I’m not one hundred percent sure, because Tiffany always denied it, but, yes, I think he was verbally, emotionally, and physically abusive to her.”

That settled it. There was nothing he loved more than putting a cruel asshole in his place. “I’d be honored to take her. Please have her call me tomorrow, so we can talk before I meet her. What’s the flight itinerary?”

A smile had spread across Tori’s face when he’d said he would do her the favor, and it felt like he’d gotten kicked in the gut. How was he supposed to survive a weekend in Vegas with Tori when he couldn’t have her for himself? But he’d already said yes, and he couldn’t disappoint her and back out now.

“We’re flying out on Friday morning, and we’ll be returning on Monday morning. Sir and I decided to stay an extra day to have some fun that’s not wedding related. It’s been a while since either of us were in Vegas. I’ll have him email you our flight and hotel information when we get home tonight, so you can book yours. And thank you so much, Sir.”

“It’ll be my pleasure, pet. Oh, what’s the dress code for the wedding? In Vegas, it can range from lingerie and surf shorts to animal costumes to black tie.”

Her giggle was adorable. “Master Tyler is wearing a suit and I’m wearing a dress, if that helps, Sir.”

“Then I’ll bring a suit as well. Is there anything else you need?”

She obviously understood she was being dismissed because she stood. Mitch was reluctant to let her go, but with her rocking that bustier, he was hard as granite, and the black, leather collar around her neck said she was off limits. “No, Sir. That’s it. And thank you again, Sir. It means a lot to me, especially since it’s with little notice.”

“No worries, Tori. Now, let me finish up here so I can make it onto the club floor at some point this evening.”

“Yes, Sir.”

When she turned and sashayed toward the door, Mitch bit back a groan. She was as hot going as she was coming. His head dropped back against the soft leather of his chair as Tori disappeared into the hallway. Damn, I need to get laid tonight.