DominatedByBrothersBlankEditionHTML by Erika Masten

DOMINATED
BY BROTHERS: HOT HARD MENAGE #1
     
    by
    Erika
Masten
     
     
    Copyright © 2011 Erika Masten.
    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
     
     
    Erika Masten
    [email protected]
    http://erikamasten.com
     
     
    Published
by Sticky Sweet Books.   This book
contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and
Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. Without
limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication
may be reproduced, stored on, or introduced into a retrieval system, or
transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of
both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
     
    This
is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual persons or events are purely
coincidental.
     
    Warning:
Explicit content. Intended for mature readers only. All characters depicted
herein are 18 years or older, and all sexual activities are of a consensual
nature.
     
    This
is a work of erotic fantasy. In real life, please protect yourself and your
lover by always practicing safe sex.
     
     
    TABLE
OF CONTENTS
     
    Dominated
By Brothers: Hot Hard Menage #1
     
    Excerpt
From
    Taken:
Dominated #1
     
    Excerpt
From
    A
Firm Hand: Dominated #4
     
     
    DOMINATED
BY BROTHERS: HOT HARD MENAGE #1
     
    When it rains, it pours.
    I can’t remember ever seeing
the parking lot of the office complex so full, just when I was counting on
finding a close parking spot and dashing in out of the rain. Fine day to forget
my umbrella.   Nice going, Faith. An hour
at the salon yesterday for the cut, color, and blow-out, and I’m going to look
like a drowned blond rat after scurrying through this downpour. Then, when I
dry out and frizz up, I can work the poodle look.
    Normally, I might not be so
vain about this, but today’s meeting is with Garret Sievers. He and his
man-about-town older brother, Blake, run a nonprofit to raise awareness and
funding for research into women’s health issues. They named it the Caroline
Foundation, after their mother, when they lost her several years ago. I handle
the arrangements—the right venue, the right entertainment, the right guest
list—for fundraising galas on behalf of quite a few different kinds of
charities, but I have an extra-soft spot for this one, having lost my favorite
aunt when I was a teenager. So, as if I needed a reason to be attracted to
Garret besides his dark-haired,
dark-eyed good looks and toned body, I can add the fact that he’s a passionate
humanitarian working on a cause that’s dear to me. Normally, I wouldn’t even
consider risking my professional reputation by dating a client, but Garret and
Blake Sievers are the kind of men who override a woman’s good sense.
    I use the mirror in the car
visor to check my mascara and red lipstick, hoping the sprint through the
downpour doesn’t leave my face a streaky mess. Inwardly, I cringe at the
undertones of anxiety I’m feeling. It’s just that it seems like I’ve been
waiting forever for Garret to make his move. All the signs are there, the warm
smiles and lingering glances, the subtle questions about a boyfriend.
    When I put a small private
dinner together for existing foundation supporters last month, when Garret
stayed late seeing guests off and then walked me to my car, he almost kissed
me. He was towering over me, his deep brown eyes focused intently on my face,
my lips. My heart was in my throat as I agonized…will he, won’t he? With a
gentle hand, he was kneading one side of my waist, then began to push me back
against the side of my car. The languid warmth I felt from his attentions
flared with excitement and even a twinge of uncertainty and fear, as he suddenly
took charge and pinned me against the cold metal door with his warm body. At
the time, I was almost relieved that his brother interrupted us to ask about
family plans over the weekend.
    But