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After finding their best friend’s diary two brothers find the submissive they’ve been waiting for.
She knows it’s wrong. Cyn shouldn’t have feelings for fraternal twins Jared and Chris, her best friends. She shouldn’t want the kinds of dirty and delicious sex she craves with one of them much less both of them. The only way to control her taboo desires is to write them down and lock them away in her diary. Guys like Jared and Chris could never be interested in someone like her, or in the kind of sex she dreams of.
But Jared and Chris have read her diary, and sweet little Cyn is in for the shock of her life. The brothers not only own a members only BDSM club called The Library, but they want her. Need her. And now, with their unlimited funds and an entire establishment devoted to fulfilling her darkest pleasures, they’re going to claim Cyn for their own.
With the key to her every need in the palm of her hand will she finally be brave enough to reach for what she’s always wanted? Or will past mistakes tear them apart forever?
The Members Only Series
Within the walls of The Library, a members only BDSM club, anything goes. It’s a dark oasis for every Dom and sub to discover their happily ever after. Screams of pleasure and pain echo through the walls every night, but beneath each cry lies a confession. Unrequited love, cravings of domination by more than just one, even the desire for someone of the same sex. Each member learns, to find their forever, they must unearth the strength to reveal…everything.
By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.
Together in CynExcerpt
“So, Cyn, why aren’t you fucking anybody?”
I sucked a mouthful of beer down the wrong pipe, sputtered and coughed my way through it and nearly knocked over the glass bottle as I got it under control. The beer anyway. After wheezing through another breath, I moved my drink aside. The last thing I needed was a wet spot in my lap. “Where in the hell did that come from?”
Jared Kennedy, one of my best friends, glanced at my fingers as I worried a heart charm at the bottom of a silver chain. A knowing smirk tilted his lips when he glanced up again. “Come on. Nobody creaming your Twinkie at the moment or do you not like sex in general? We want to know. So don’t be shy, spit it out.”
The other half of the “we” he referred to was his fraternal twin Chris, who watched us across an empty dance floor and from behind their bar thirty feet away.
Still anxiously working the pendant back and forth, I turned once more to Jared.
He leaned against his chair, forearms crossed over his broad chest, an expectant smile revealing bright-white teeth. The brothers had always done that. Known the right expression to make so I would answer anything. They acted broody or impatient and I’d give anything to make them happy. Pathetic—my middle name when it came to these two.
“I like it, J. As much as anybody does, I guess. Whether I like it to the same extent you and Chris do, I don’t know. Your appetites have always run on the high side according to the gossipmongers in town.” I squirmed in my seat. I admit it. One of my best friends was asking me if I liked sex and all I could think was…meh. My sex life…well, visualize the Titanic sinking and you get the gist. Most guys don’t appreciate being called another guy’s name—or two guys’ names—when you’re getting off. It’s a real deal breaker apparently.
“Uh huh. It’s Saturday night and you’re here, like last night and the night before. Guys hit on you but you blow ’em off. You work at the gym all day and help out here anytime we ask. CJ’s has gotten damn busy and we dig the help but you’ve been restless lately and we’ve both noticed. What gives?”
Getting to work at the bar with both of them on a weekend was rare. One of them was normally MIA. But tonight? From the moment I stepped through the front door they were watching me. Shivers of awareness raced over my skin but I was too chicken to actually do anything about it. A blush slithered its way up my bare shoulders, crawled all over my failing willpower and flipped on a big neon sign above my head, flashing “Not Gettin’ Any”.
Jared and Chris knowing my social calendar was on par with reservations at a leper colony just plain sucked. The three of us had been close for years but this was way beyond what my heart—and several other tingly parts—could handle.
“You’re hot. You haven’t been with anyone since Matt.”
Mild panic settled in the pit of my stomach hearing that asshole’s name.
Jared wasn’t going to drop it. Thankfully my beer sat well out of reach.
“Not that it’s any of your business but who’s to say I’m not having sex every night and twice on Sundays?” I cocked a blonde eyebrow in his direction with a little sultry thrown in, with what I hoped was a sassy twist of my lips. That sass faded into scared rabbit when he gave me that look again. Same one he’d been giving me all night long. The one I’d seen for years and hated because it was never directed at me.
It was Jared on the make. My adrenal gland kicked into high gear. I was a little bit thrilled and a whole lot terrified.
He was always the comedian. He’d played pranks on me any chance he could but this was no joke.
His gaze remained locked on me and his blue eyes, shadowed by thick lashes, taunted me with sexual promise. Female residents of our fair city of Arcadia had spent years fantasizing over his tanned skin and muscled frame. Right at the height of my ogling, he speared long fingers through his blond, sun-streaked hair. It wasn’t long enough to negate any of his rugged appeal but it was far from the military cut he’d worn for years. Currently, it was perfect to hold on to for a nice long ride.
As his hair fell across his brow, he leaned onto the table to grab his beer. He grazed my arm on the way and I locked my muscles up good and tight to suppress another shiver. My reaction to them? Spontaneous combustion.
But tonight was different. Tonight they’d noticed how I responded to them. They’d thrown logs on the smoldering fire every chance they got. Touching me, teasing me. Staring at me as if they knew how wet I was. For them. Only them.
He hooked an elbow on the back of his chair, legs wide as he drank deeply from a longneck. His lips caressed the cold glass as he sucked the bitter liquid into his mouth and his Adam’s apple dipped low as he swallowed. My tongue traced my bottom lip and my inner harlot jumped up with her hand in the air. By all that was holy, if I was in the middle of some wet dream and woke up in the middle of another empty orgasm alone in my bed, I was going to scream.
After he set aside his beer, he caught me watching him and I guiltily glanced away. I took a calming breath, silently freaking out. If you couldn’t answer him, distract him, right?
“Do you remember the first time we came here?” I focused out the front windows.“You guys were on leave?”
“Your twenty-first birthday,” he answered without hesitation and my inner romantic sighed. I kept my focus glued outside though all I wanted to do was gawk at him and drool.
The parking lot was huge and normally packed until closing but tonight everyone had deserted me. So I looked over and paid rapt attention to the tiered liquor shelves behind the dimly lit bar and the neon beer signs illuminating the wall above. Even the empty dance floor was amazingly interesting as I avoided Jared’s probing glances. The exposed ceiling highlighted the wood details throughout the building and the front wall of windows attracted more than a few passersby most nights. Not tonight, of course. Tonight it was a ghost town, which made my avoidance that much more obvious.
Chris and Jared were my every fantasy and I ached for them. I craved something dark and dangerous I had no right to want—not from them both.
I needed to outlast him, ignore his questions—their flirting. Get my closing work done so I could go home…alone…again.
My sex-starved brain kicked back on at the same time I registered what Jared was talking about. My mouth went dry and mortification settled in deep as though it was planning to stay…for the rest of my life.
“You’ve heard what the past few nights?” I exhaled noisily and reached for my necklace again.
“The high-pitched whirr of a vibrator, Cyn. I’ve heard it every night coming from your bedroom. Flying solo doesn’t count as sex. Why aren’t you involved with someone other than your purple boyfriend? And ‘jilling’ so often… Any particular reason?”
He finished his beer and leaned back. My eyes involuntarily drifted to his lap. An impressive hard-on strained his faded jeans and my temples pounded when blood rushed to my head.
“You’ve heard me…masturbating?” I snapped my gaze up to his face then to Chris, who stood behind the bar drying a glass. The way he stared at me heated my insides. Need pooled low in my belly and I had to concentrate not to rub my thighs together.
Damn, they tantalized every inch of me, but Chris was different than Jared. More severe. Demanding. Darker in every way. Brown hair cut short and chocolate eyes a girl could happily drown in. They held secrets I’d always been afraid to uncover. He could intimidate a stone wall with his silent indifference.
Tonight was different though. He looked…hungry.
He was too far away to hear what we were discussing, especially with music still playing. But he knew. He knew.
Here I sat in their too-warm bar, with my hair thrown into a careless ponytail, and both men who headlined every single one of my fantasies stared straight at me. And they not only knew I was masturbating but how often.
“How can you hear me?” I asked mostly to myself. Wishing to be anywhere but there.
“One four-inch wall is the only thing keeping me from paradise,” Jared said.
We had mirror-image floor plans in adjacent townhouses but I’d never known how thin the walls were. Probably had something to do with the fact we were normally together in one of them. Watching movies, eating together, catching up. Not to mention if they had company over, I found somewhere else to be.
“You sing while you vacuum. You fall asleep with the TV on. You talk in your sleep—and when you come, Cyn? I can sure as shit hear that though it sounds like you’re holding back. I’m pretty sure we can do better.”
Mortified. I was truly and utterly mortified. I wanted to refute what he said but my brain wasn’t sending any useful information to my mouth. Yes and Sir tried to come out so I bit my tongue.
I peered over my shoulder at Chris again. My body warmed in all the right places. Tantalizing heat spread out from my belly, beading my nipples into stiff points. My traitorous clit pulsed as I pictured them listening on the other side of the wall. Straining. Stroking.
Chris seemed to track the twitching of my thighs and his nostrils flared as if he could smell what he did to me. What they did to me. He tossed a towel over his shoulder and carried a half-empty box of supplies into the storage room. My lungs emptied on a hiss when our connection broke.
Time ticked by before Jared spoke again. “Blondie.”
My thoughts scrambled as I whipped around. He gifted me with one of those panty-dampening once-overs. Damn, he was what mothers warned their daughters about.
“You know I hate that.” He nicknamed me blondie when I was twelve and it had forever made me feel as if my IQ were about as big as my shoe size.
He shrugged and appeared quite pleased by my growing annoyance. Quickly, his amusement changed to something heated as he perused my body. “Oh yeah, I know, baby.” He leaned in close and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “But I’ve been trying to get a rise out of you all night long.”
I snorted and tried to ignore his lingering warmth on the shell of my ear. “You absolutely got my attention when you outed yourself as a voyeur, J.”
He unfolded himself to tower over me. He caged me in, crowding in close until I could smell his cologne and a unique scent that was all him. “A voyeur gets their rocks off by watching and we want to do a hell of a lot more than watch. So why don’t you tell me why you’ve nearly worn through the chain on your necklace while chewing on lips that are much better suited to…other things.” He stroked my lower lip to emphasize the point and my mouth opened without my permission so I could lick him all over, starting with that thumb.
Because I’m in love with you and your twin. Have been for almost a decade. I’ve got a journal at home filled with what I want you to do to me and I’ll never be brave enough to show it to you. Plus, I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk for two days. Then I want you to tie me up, blindfold me and do it all again until I have no voice left from screaming out my orgasms for you.
“No reason,” I squeaked and jerked my head away. “Hey, I’m thirsty. You thirsty? Want another beer before you close up?” Without waiting for an answer, I scrambled out from under his arm and darted away.
Jennifer Kacey is a writer, mother, and business owner living with her miniman in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice she’s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.