Awakening Her Racy Passion [Racy Nights 9] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read Free Page A

Trent back to Ria, and he wondered whether she was even remotely interested in BDSM. Did she know he was a Dom? Luke would probably tell her if she asked. But why would she ask? Was she thinking about him right now, or had he only imagined the interested look in her eyes tonight?
    It had been dark in the alley, but he didn’t usually mistake that look on a woman’s face. Their lips parted slightly, and their eyes got all soft. He could almost see their nipples hardening and their pussy lips turning smoky with blood engorgement.
    Ria had a sexy, curvy body that he’d love to see naked, tied to a St. Andrews cross or bent over a spanking bench. Her ass would be round, just the way he loved them. He was dying to know if she’d ever had fantasies involving BDSM play, but there was no one to ask. The best he could hope for was to glean some information from Wyatt in the morning.
    Their radio buzzed, and both men jumped up. Paul picked it up first, and Trent took advantage of his coworker’s momentary distraction to reach into his pants and straighten his dick. When Paul glanced at him again, he was adjusted and ready to go. “What is it?”
    “Car skidded off the bridge over the creek by Skeeter McCree’s farm.”
    “Let’s go.” It was time to get back to work. But while Trent loved the adrenaline rush his job afforded, right now he’d rather be enjoying one of those rushes in Maddox’s club with Ria.
     
    * * * *
     
    Wyatt Rohan was used to phone calls on weekends. They’d recently added a third public defender, but he and Bonnie still had the bulk of the cases. They both took turns being on call during the hours the court wasn’t in session. It was a small town, and they’d agreed a long time ago that there was no reason anyone should have to wait until a Monday morning to know whether they had legal representation. It might not be the way things were done in larger cities, but in Racy, that’s how they handled things.
    So when his cell rang at 6:00 am on Sunday morning, he didn’t bother looking at the caller ID. He simply answered the phone. “Rohan here.”
    “Hey, it’s Sean.”
    “Hi.” Wyatt put down his coffee cup and frowned. “What’s going on?”
    “Gerry Homer was stabbed last night in the alley behind Luke’s Bar.”
    “No shit. Is he all right?”
    “No. He died about a half hour ago.”
    “Oh man. That sucks. Any leads?”
    “Yes. You know him. We all do. I’m on my way now with Harrison to pick him up, so I thought I’d give you a heads-up.”
    “Who is it?”
    “Ned Meyers.”
    Wyatt groaned. “Fuck. No fucking way. Are you sure he did it? Murder would be a few steps up for him.”
    “I don’t think he meant to kill Gerry. It was a stab wound to the gut, which, unfortunately for Ned, pierced Gerry’s liver and his hepatic vein. They got him into surgery and repaired all that, but then he went into a condition called DIC. Know what that is?”
    Wyatt nodded. “Yeah. Disseminated intravascular coagulation. It’s a clotting disorder, right?”
    “Close enough. It’s when your normal clotting mechanisms go haywire. That’s how Karen McCall explained it to me. She was in Luke’s when Gerry was stabbed and she followed the bus to Memorial last night and stayed until this morning. She said it can happen after surgery, especially in the GI system, and apparently Gerry had had clotting issues before.”
    “I can’t believe he’s dead. This will hit the town hard.”
    “I know. Everyone looked out for him.”
    Wyatt took a sip of coffee. Even if it wasn’t premeditated, Ned could still be charged with involuntary manslaughter. He was looking at six years if convicted in this town. “Why do you like Ned for it?”
    “Ria Rodriguez saw him stab Gerry. Well, hang on. Let me back up. She didn’t see who stabbed him. She saw a man stab him using his left arm, and she gave us a general description of what he was wearing. She also described hearing a voice say ‘I know you