MenageaDare (25 page)

Shoot, she should have taken care of the food cart. Turning
back, she caught sight of her men sleeping together. They’d gravitated toward
each other, Jaxon’s head resting on Remy’s big chest, right over his yin and
yang tattoo.

Love for them grew two-fold. They belonged together. She
very much wanted to be part of them, but if something happened to their triad,
she’d want them to stay a couple.

Deciding the food cart could wait as she didn’t want to
disturb the men, she turned out the bedroom lights by flipping the switch and
closed the bedroom door. The sitting room was lovely, decorated with
sand-colored furniture, a sofa, big lounge chair and a chaise.

The plush wall-to-wall carpeting was perfect for bare feet.
The flat-screen TV was big but not overwhelmingly so.

Going over to the array of electronic equipment Remy had
stored in a far corner of the room, she found her laptop, taking it with her to
the chaise. Once there, she took the computer out of its case, fired it up and
saw she still had plenty of battery life.

Sitting back, she was amazed at how cozy the chaise was. She
could prop her feet up, stretch out and relax, that is if she weren’t naked.
Looking about, she spotted a decorative throw resided over the back of the
sofa, maneuvering herself around to reach for it and drag it to the chaise,
wrapping it around her toga-style.

Feeling better, she placed the computer on her lap, set up
the free Wi-Fi at the hotel and entered the passcode for the primary database
she used to trace name origins.

A couple clicks later, she was lost in the history of Norse
surnames, discovering the meaning of Thorolf and when it came into use, as
originally only royalty and nobles were identified by a surname.

From there, she typed in the name Thorolf, bringing up a
small number that seemed to fit her search criteria and traced a group of
Norwegian immigrants, namely Magnor Thorolf, his wife, Brita, and their four
young sons, Ragnor, Ymir, Leif and Oskar, who’d come to America through New
York in 1801.

For a couple minutes, Eve honed her focus in on the
immigrant ship that’d landed in New York. It’d carried a fair number of
Norwegians and it seemed as if many had been Quakers, the Thorolf family
included, and they group eventually migrated to Minnesota.

In 1829, Oskar Thorolf traveled to Washoe, later to become
the Nevada Territory. It was there that her trail cooled off, as there was no information
regarding his return to Minnesota. What she really needed was a Thorolf family
bible or a Washoe registry of marriages, births and deaths.

Taking a shot, she left a note on a message board that
featured the history and exploration of Nevada, hoping to find out if Oskar
could have been an explorer. From there, she could trace where he’d settled and
whether he’d married and had children.

Hitting send, Eve didn’t realize she was being watched until
a shadow fell across her keyboard. Pausing, she turned her head. Jaxon stood
there wearing a men’s bathrobe. There’d been a few in the bathroom closet.

“Hey,” she said, smiling. “What are you doing up?”

“Missed you,” he answered.

“You knew I was gone?”

“Yes,” he replied, raising his eyes off her computer screen.
“Got room for me on the chaise?”

Eve scooted over, patting the seat. “Join me, please. Should
I have asked to leave the room?”

“No, told you, I missed you.”

“That’s nice.” She smiled knowing that.

“What are you doing?” he asked, settling in next to her.

“I was having trouble going back to sleep so I decided to
work on tracing your lineage. Would you care to see what I’ve found?”

“Please,” he agreed.

Eve shared with him what she’d learned, warning him that
there was no way to confirm yet that he was a descendant of Oskar Thorolf.
Given that Oskar was the only one of the four brothers to come to Nevada, it
was a good chance she was on the right track.

“Jaxon, has your mother ever said your father’s first name?”

“She was very protective of him when I was a kid,” Jaxon
answered. “I had the impression that their affair was forbidden, as they were
both very young. After they were separated, he may have become a clergyman of
some sort.”

“Why do you say that?”

“It was more of a feeling than anything she did. She’d
gotten pregnant with me at fifteen, was kicked out of her home and went to live
in Carson City. I was born there.”

Ignoring her computer in favor of reaching down and taking
Jaxon’s hand, she offered support. It was nice talking to Jaxon without the sexual
heat that consumed them earlier.

“Tell me more about your mom, Jaxon. She must have been
incredibly brave.”

“She was but was sadly raped when I was five. Some fucker
with a heavy hand slapped her around. She tossed his money in his face and
tried to leave but didn’t make it.”

“Oh no, you must have been scared for her.”

“All I knew was my Mama’s face was bruised and her mouth was
bleeding. She cried a lot. I offered to be her Superman. It was my favorite
comic book series. She’d read it to me.”

Eve felt tears fill her eyes. She tried to blink them away
but couldn’t. “You’re a hero in my eyes, Jaxon Wynter.”

“Thank you, love,” he said, turning his hand over to link
their fingers together. “Can I set your laptop aside?”

“Please do.”

Jaxon took the computer in hand, setting it gently on the
floor near the chaise. Settling back against the cushion, he tucked his left
arm behind the small of her back, allowing her to continue holding his right
hand.

“I don’t know if I’m a hero. Most of the time I’m difficult,
prideful and pushy, especially if I want something.”

“That doesn’t make you a bad person. You’ve been incredibly
kind since Remy and I met you.”

“Have I?” Jaxon turned slightly toward her. “I’ve gotten
exactly what I want from you two.”

“Sex.”

He nodded. “Yes and once isn’t nearly enough.”

“Jaxon, we came into this relationship with you willingly.”

“I’m glad. Sex should never be forced. It’s because of Mama
that I’ll never begrudge those who sell sex to make a living, but if they want
out, I give them an out.”

“What do you mean?”

“With the sale of my clubs in Vegas and Reno, I set up a
scholarship fund for helping prostitutes and strippers get the help and
protection they need and get an education.”

“That’s pretty heroic. Is that why you owned exotic dance
clubs in the first place?”

“Pretty much and if my books ever get turned into movies,
I’ll add a portion of whatever I make to the fund.”

“That’s exciting.”

“It’d be better if I could write the adapted screenplays.”

“You can. You’re a brilliant writer.”

“I’ve tried. Everything ends up in the trash.”

“Because you miss Gemma and Niko?” she asked, trying not to
overstep.

“Honestly, yes, they died while I was living my life as
Ransom Hunter, thus he died with them.”

“Have you given a thought to letting Jaxon Wynter write the
screenplays? If you let yourself be you, maybe you’ll break through the
writer’s block.”

He was about to shake his head in denial. Instead, he
paused, his eyes laser-focused on her face.

“You believe in me that much, Evelyn?”

“Absolutely, you knew that already.”

“Why, if I may ask, when there are tons of erotica and
erotic romance hitting the shelves and eBook market right now?”

“Because they’re wonderfully written and I enjoy sex,
although I’ve never enjoyed sex as much as I do with you and Remy. With you
two, I feel free to explore my sexuality and don’t feel as if I’m weak for
being submissive.”

“You should never feel weaker, love. In my experience,
submissives are incredibly strong and brave.”

“For the longest time, I felt as if most people who knew me
saw only my last name. Few seemed to realize I hate boardrooms and stock
markets and business deals. When reading your books, I didn’t have to worry
about that. It was just me, Eve, reading Ransom Hunter novels.”

“Did you become a historian and genealogist to avoid the
boardroom too?”

“No, I honestly enjoy both.”

“How’d you get involved with ghost hunting?”

“My mom,” she said. “I believe she had a hand in directing
me to Remy’s ad for a history consultant.”

“Amazing. May I ask her name?”

“Of course, Victoria,” Eve answered, touched that he cared
enough to ask.

“That’s pretty.”

“She was beautiful, intelligent, the very best mom a girl
could have.”

“You miss her.”

“Very much.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? Remy said there’s a
walk-a-thon for breast cancer research in your mother’s name.”

“Just listen if I get sad, especially on my birthday or
hers. If you’d like to join the walk, that’d be great too.”

“Your birthday’s in June. We’ll have a big party for you.”

“If I know my dad, he’ll have one arranged at some Boston
landmark.”

“You don’t like Boston?”

“I love Boston. I’m a Sox, Patriots, Bruins and Celtics
fan.”

“Then what’s the problem with having a party in Boston?”

“You’ll be here,” she answered.

Jaxon propped himself up some. Letting go of her hand, he
turned in to her, placing two fingers under her chin.

“Evelyn, may I make love to you?”

“Should we go wake Remy?”

“No, he was snoring when I came out here and needs his
beauty rest.”

“He is beautiful, isn’t he?”

“You’re evading my question.”

“Which one are we talking about? Making love or Boston?”

“Both, Boston first,” he said.

“Jaxon, I don’t want to push you away.”

His fingers shifted, caressing up along her jaw, gentle,
persuasive. “I’m not going anywhere, love. To make this work between us, we’ll
have to visit, travel, whatever it takes.”

“That’s true and I’d love to have you visit,” she said,
maybe a little too quickly. She didn’t have an objection. She knew her father
would. It’d be difficult for any father to know his daughter was in a
relationship two men.

“It’s your father you’re concerned about,” Jaxon replied.

“Yes, he’s very traditional. It’ll take some work to explain
things.”

“He’ll come around, Evelyn.”

“You don’t know my dad.”

“Not personally, but I’ve gotten information from Remy. Your
father’s a powerful business man who’s going through a tough time after what
happened with his business partner.”

“Remy told you about Spencer Bailey.”

“What worried me was your safety.”

“I was never in any danger.”

“Your father is going to worry about you regardless. Bailey
got into your family circle and interacted with you, right?”

“I knew his wife and sat with her at board meetings. She
hated the things as much as I did. It’s so sad to me that she was as much a
victim of Spencer Bailey as her daughter.”

“He really killed his own stepdaughter?”

“Yes, and it’s all very sad.”

“After all that, my guess is your father likes Remy enough
to entrust you with him or he’d have hired armed guards to accompany you out
here. Try not to worry. I’ll gain his trust too.”

“It could take a while.”

“In case you missed it, Evelyn, I’m not going anywhere.” His
fingers continued their soothing caress.

“You might if I say the wrong thing.”

“You can’t do that, Eve.” It was rare for him to use
Eve
with her. She liked when he did. It made her feel closer to him. “As long we
remain honest with each other, we can work through anything that comes up. Now
can I make love to you?”

“Can I ask something before I say yes?”

“Of course,” he granted.

“Are you asking because you’re horny and Remy’s asleep?”

“I’m here because you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever known.”

Eve smiled, relief rushing through her. “You really want me
for me?”

“Yes, baby girl, let me make love to you. If you really want
to go into the bedroom, we will. If he wakes up, he can join us the next time
around.”

“Let him sleep,” she decided. “He deserves it.”

Jaxon smiled, really smiled. Her decision pleased him. Happy
beyond her understanding, she returned a grin and promptly had it swallowed up
by his mouth.

Jaxon Wynter’s kiss was devastatingly male, sensual in its
extreme. He didn’t rush it. He built it up, coaxing her lips apart and slipping
his tongue into her mouth, touching hers.

She sighed, loving the way they shared a moment that was
uniquely theirs. They’d talked, bonding as friends. Now they were bonding as
lovers as they lay together on the chaise.

In time, Jaxon unwound the blanket she’d tucked around
herself, tossing it aside.

Eve broke off for a second. “We need a condom.”

“Covered,” Jaxon assured, reaching into the pocket of his
bathrobe and extracting a condom.

“How did you know I’d say yes?”

“I didn’t. I’m an erotica author. I always come prepared.”

Eve giggled, the sound catching in her throat when he stood
up, removed the robe and presented himself to her fully naked. It wasn’t the
first time she’d seen him, but it was the first time she’d seen his erection
meant specifically for her.

Jaxon rolled the condom on and reached out, waiting for her
to place her hand in his. As he pulled her to her feet, it dawned on her that
he’d referred to himself as an author.

She’d done that. She’d helped him to not hate that part of
who he was. Tomorrow, he might not feel that way. Tonight, she was going to be
thankful for the incredible man he was. He may not be a comic book hero, but he
had all the traits of one.

Drawing her into his arms, Jaxon lowered his head, kissing
her anew. Feeling heady and wonderfully warm, she cherished being held in his
arms. She loved it even more when he lowered her to the plush carpeted floor.