Hands on Justice [The Service Club 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)

The Service Club 4

Hands on Justice

Justice McCall has a bone-deep emptiness only Cade and Grant can fill. The trouble is that what the two dominant cowboy public defenders might uncover about her scares her to her toes. She knows what will happen if she succumbs to their touch, but will the dark pleasures they offer be too much for her to endure?

Cade Mason is tired of fooling around. He’s found Justice guilty of a submissive desire only he and Grant can administer. Control is not up for debate. But exposing how deep her vixen needs go while imprisoning her heart will prove his hardest trial yet.

Grant Leaver knows his case against Justice can be won in the bedroom. It will take some fancy litigation to get her there, but when the gavel comes down she’ll be sentenced to a lifetime of erotic passion found beneath the hands of himself, Cade, and the Service Club.

Genre:
BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length:
43,686 words
 

The Service Club 4

Tonya Ramagos

MENAGE AND MORE

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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HANDS ON JUSTICE

Copyright © 2012 by Tonya Ramagos

E-book ISBN:
978-1-62241-873-2

First E-book Publication: November 2012

Cover design by Harris Channing

All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

Dear Readers,

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Hands on Justice
 by Tonya Ramagos from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

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www.SirenPublishing.com

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To Kenny, Korlin, and Jake for not only being the supportive guys in my life, but for listening and giving me input as I ironed out the plot for this book and for educating me on football. I love you guys.

HANDS ON JUSTICE

The Service Club 4

TONYA RAMAGOS

Copyright © 2012

Sharp whips of seedy erotic desire slashed through the air of the assistant district attorney’s office. Justice McCall tightened her grip on the receiver in her hand as the sting from the slashes reverberated from her beaded nipples to her slickened pussy lips. Her ass even puckered as Cade Mason’s smooth, lazy drawl flowed through the telephone line.

“We need to meet so we can discuss this case.”

No, we definitely do not.
A meeting with Cade would adjourn in his bedroom, the one place she absolutely, positively did not need to be again.

The one place I’m dying to be again.

Justice closed her eyes as images of herself naked, helpless, and shackled to Cade’s bed flooded her mind. He wouldn’t be alone this time. Grant Leaver would be with him. She knew that with a certainty that morphed those whips of seedy desire to a double-edged blade of dark, uncontrollable need.

She had barely escaped with her clothes on and her sanity intact last time. Cade hadn’t touched her. He hadn’t needed to. The things she had seen in his bedroom, things designed to aid him in bringing a woman unspeakable, sinful pleasures coupled with the dark promises he had made to her in low, heated whispers full of power and authority, had left her fantasizing about a life she couldn’t allow herself to lead.

What would they do to me?
She had spent many nights before and after her visit to Cade’s bedroom with her vibrator and speculative answers to that very question. She would be at his and Grant’s mercy, under their command. Her body would be theirs for the taking in any way they pleased, as torturously as they dared. She didn’t doubt that anything they did to her wouldn’t be pure, unadulterated pleasure of the darkest, most aberrant variety.

Would they be alone?
That question should have stopped her fantasies cold, not caused hot juices of sheer anticipation and longing to leak from between her pussy lips. As members of the Service Club—an elite group of men with careers in the public service profession who dominated and shared the women in their lives—the answer could very well be a decisive, resounding no. The fact that a little demon inside her didn’t want them to be alone sent white-hot chills of lust and trepidation racing down her spine.

“Did you hear me, Ms. McCall?”

Cade’s voice, as thick and sugary as syrup in a mason jar, dragged her from her thoughts. She opened her eyes, picked up a pen from the blotter, and tapped the tip idly on the mahogany desktop. Ms. McCall. All business, as if there wasn’t an underlying intention behind his proposed meeting.

She knew better. He would use the case as a pretext to get her alone and then make good on the pledges he had made to her, the ones where he had made it clear precisely what would happen when she finally relented, when she submitted to his and Grant’s commands.

“I heard you, Mr. Mason.” Justice kept her voice calm and professional despite the sleazy salaciousness surging through every erogenous zone in her body.

“My schedule is clear for tonight. We’ll discuss the case over dinner.”

He didn’t ask her. He told her in that cool, collected tone that dripped with sheer male confidence. She could easily imagine him sitting in his office, kicked back in his chair with his feet propped on the edge of the desk. He would be wearing a dark suit jacket with a crisp button-down shirt that stretched over his broad shoulders made for a woman to hold on tight while he fucked her to oblivion. He likely wore a pair of blue jeans that rode low on his narrow hips, hugging his to-die-for ass and massively impressive cock to pristine perfection. Cowboy boots would complete his attire, making him the perfect picture of a hard-edged cowboy upholding the legal system.

“I haven’t had a chance to review the case file yet.” Her gaze dropped to the file in question, her attention skimming over the tab where a label had been attached with the words
Horn Hill vs. Thomas Waverly
.

In truth, she didn’t need to review the file to know the gist of the information it contained. The defendant, Thomas Waverly, had been charged with arson and attempted murder. The twenty-eight-year-old had been accused of setting fire to Marissa Schultz’s children’s clothing shop as well as attempting to kill Mustang Ducote. He had allegedly committed other acts of violence, but no evidence had been gathered to tie the man to those crimes.

Marissa and Mustang…two women who belong to men in the Service Club.

Justice shuddered. Like it or not, she was about to find herself stiletto-heels-deep in dominant male muddy water. Word had it that the premise of the Service Club had been the root for everything Thomas Waverly had done. Orphaned as a toddler after his mother’s accidental death by asphyxiation in a BDSM ménage that had gotten out of hand, the man had lashed out his bottled grief against the women known to be affiliated with the men of the Service Club. Mustang Ducote, a woman who had grown up alongside Thomas when he had gone to live with his grandfather on the Ducote’s Circle M Ranch, had fallen victim to the worst of his actions.

Still, Justice knew neither Mustang nor Marissa had been the one to bring the charges against Thomas. The Horn Hill Sheriff, Parker Ferrell, took the liberty of doing that and was laying on the pressure for Thomas Waverly to be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. She had known the moment the case file hit her desk that morning, she would be in for a battle. What she hadn’t known were the varying stages she would have to fight that battle in and out of the courtroom.

Of all the attorneys in the public defender’s office, this case had to land on Cade’s desk.
Dammit, even Grant would have been marginally easier to deal with.

Of the two men, Grant was the more sensible one, the one more apt to listen to reason. He understood the benefits of giving as much as he took. Cade, on the other hand, took. He dominated, possessed, and didn’t let up.

“And I have a meeting at five,” Justice added, knowing that meeting would take all of ten minutes at best. She groped for another excuse, one that would keep her in her office well into the night, but came up dry. Her current caseload was minimalistic, damnably leaving her evening free for the claiming.

“Review it today. We’ll pick you up at seven.” Cade cut the connection before she got a chance to argue.

Not that his tone had left room for argument. He had issued her an order, plain and simple, and he fully expected her to obey. He had also said
we’ll pick you up
, not
I’ll
, which meant Grant would be with him.

Justice put down the phone with a hand that shook. She couldn’t do it. Forget that she wanted to with every ounce of her being. The demon inside her craved corruption. It hungered to be set free to experience every naughty, hard-core, passionate act she saw swirling in Cade’s and Grant’s eyes every time she came face-to-face with one of them.