Switching Mercedes [Wylde Shore 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Read online

  Wylde Shore 3

  Switching Mercedes

  Zane Reynolds believes he’s found the perfect submissive for he and his brother but there’s a problem. Mistress Mercedes Harris-Shore doesn’t want to submit to anyone. Zane hopes a bet will solve that issue, along with providing the key to finally win not only Mercedes's submission, but also her heart.

  Ash Reynolds knows he isn’t a good man for any woman to fall in love with. He’s a paid mercenary, disillusioned with life and his ability to fit into the civilized world. Zane insists he’s found the perfect woman for them to share, but the problem is, Mercedes has no idea Ash exists.

  Mercedes has more to worry about than a wager where she plays submissive to Zane for a week. She’s just become a serial killer’s new target and met the man assigned to protect her, Zane’s twin, Ash Reynolds. Ash appears as interested in her submission as Zane, but Mercedes isn’t looking to be shared.

  Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre

  Length: 130,784 words

  SWITCHING MERCEDES

  Wylde Shore 3

  Jan Graham

  MENAGE AND MORE

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage and More

  SWITCHING MERCEDES

  Copyright © 2014 by Jan Graham

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62741-028-1

  First E-book Publication: January 2014

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All art and logo copyright © 2014 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,

  If you have purchased this copy of Switching Mercedes by Jan Graham from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is Jan Graham’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Graham’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  www.BookStrand.com

  DEDICATION

  I’d like to dedicate this book to Mistress Jakki. You are both a friend and inspiration to me. I couldn’t have written parts of Ash’s story without your guidance and the practical demonstrations I’ve watched you engage in since we met. ☺

  I’d also like to thank my readers. I hope you enjoy this third book in my Wylde-Shore series. It’s taken longer to produce than I anticipated and your patience while waiting for its release is very much appreciated.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  About the Author

  SWITCHING MERCEDES

  Wylde Shore 3

  JAN GRAHAM

  Copyright © 2014

  Chapter One

  Help, he’s here.

  Mercedes started shouting orders at her receptionist, Kara, the moment she read the text message. Once confident Kara had begun to enact the club’s security protocols, Mercedes bolted for the door. The heightened security measures for the club would remain in place until they knew whether Samantha was safe. No new clients would be seen by the girls who worked for Mercedes until she ensured any threat to their safety had been dealt with.

  Samantha hadn’t shown up for work, which rarely happened without explanation. Of all her workers, Samantha was the one submissive she could rely on to always be on time and never miss a shift, and for that reason, Mercedes knew the text message had to be legit. One of her girls was in trouble.

  “Dial Christian.” Mercedes’s demand sprang her phone into action. Turning the key in the ignition, the car’s engine thundered to life with an urgent roar. Once in its cradle, the phone connected to the car’s Bluetooth system, the ringtone echoing through the speakers as she accelerated out of her parking space, through the underground car park, and into the mid-afternoon heat.

  “Hey, sis, how are you doing?” Christian’s friendly tone stood in stark contrast to Mercedes’s mood.

  “Get some police over to Samantha’s place.” Mercedes hurriedly added her employees Glebe address as she tried to still the rising panic within her. At a time like this, getting hysterical did no one any good. “She’s in trouble, Christian. I think the creepy stalker might have her.”

  Mercedes relayed the information as calmly as she could, Samantha not showing up for work, the text message she’d received. She could hear Christian tapping away at his keyboard while she spoke. Mercedes didn’t want to hear him typing. She wanted to hear him yelling “get moving” instructions to his team.

  “Has someone called the emergency number as well?” His question seemed redundant.

  Had she mentioned emergency services when she’d briefed him? Mercedes snapped her r
esponse. She didn’t have time to answer silly questions when one of her girls needed help.

  “Why the fuck would I call them when my brother is the head of this city’s major crime unit. Now get your guys into gear and send someone over there before I arrive, because if I get there first I’ll kick the creep’s butt to hell and back.”

  “Well, someone called reporting a domestic disturbance at her address. Stay on the line, sis.” Christian’s fell silent, his voice replaced by muffled noises. What was he doing?

  Mercedes waited impatiently, tapping the steering wheel as she sat at the traffic lights, preparing to take a left hand turn onto Oxford Street. The trip would take her no more than fifteen minutes to get to Samantha’s house in Glebe, providing traffic conditions remained favorable. However, at three-twenty in the afternoon, she doubted they would. Police headquarters was only a few minutes down the road, just off Oxford Street, the building taking a whole inner city block. If Christian’s assertions were correct and an emergency call had already been logged, then police should be on their way. Although, knowing police response times, she couldn’t be sure that was the case. Still, it didn’t matter, she’d be happy to race the cops to Samantha’s, taking matters into her own hands if they weren’t there when she arrived. Nobody hurt one of her girls and got away with it. Finally something distinguishable filled her ears, Christian’s voice, not speaking directly into the phone.

  “Dean, take someone with you and check this out. Get the uniformed guys involved as well if they aren’t already responding.”

  Mercedes breathed a sigh of relief knowing her brother wouldn’t let her down.

  “Are you still there?” Christian’s voice boomed through the speakers as Mercedes turned the corner, abruptly stopping once more, the traffic now bumper to bumper.

  “Shit, yes I’m still here.”

  “Where are you and what do you mean by when you arrive?” The stern tone of Christian’s voice gave her the impression she might be about to receive a lecture.

  “Well, I’m on my way to Samantha’s house of course, but I’m currently sitting in traffic going nowhere.” Mercedes blasted the horn in frustration, realizing the action didn’t further her cause but feeling better for having done it.

  “Turn around and go back to the club, now.” It was a command, not a suggestion. How dare he try to tell her what to do.

  “I will not sit at work, playing niceties with clients, while one of my girls is in danger.” She blasted the horn again, achieving nothing but a little more tension release.

  Mercedes knew the intense fear of being terrorized by a man. On occasions, the memory of what happened to her as a teenager still kept her awake at night. She couldn’t bear the thought of Samantha going through anything like she’d experienced. If something bad was going down, then Sam would need her. Mercedes wouldn’t let her go through this alone. Samantha had called Mercedes for help and she wouldn’t let her down.

  “We’ve got this, Mercedes, go back to work. If there is a situation unfolding, then I don’t want you anywhere near it. Do you understand?” Christian’s tone had softened but still held the dominant edge she was so familiar with. He expected her to do what she’d been told. God love him, they’d grown up together, when was he going to realize that no matter how hard he tried, she’d make her own choices? Give a Dom an inch and they’ll take a mile. Mercedes paddled her own canoe, and her family, particularly her ever annoying, dominant brothers, needed to realize that. After all, she was Mistress Mercedes, owner of the prestigious Gentleman’s Club, the city’s premier BDSM establishment catering to clientele ranging from tradesman to politicians. If a man needed to get his kink on but didn’t have a partner to play with, then Mistress Mercedes’s staff would assist—for a fee of course.

  “Oh look, traffic’s moving again.” The cars edged forward at a snail’s pace, although Christian wasn’t to know she now crawled along in the traffic. “I’m not turning around, brother. I’m going to Samantha’s in case she needs me. Do you understand?”

  “You’re impossible, Mercedes.” She envisaged him sitting at his desk, shaking his head in bewilderment. “Promise me you’ll stay out of the way, do what you’re told by my officers, and keep safe.”

  “I promise, big brother. I’ll be a good little Domme, unless someone needs to be told what to do of course.”

  “Mercedes, this isn’t a joke. You will stay clear of the scene until my men tell you it’s safe to enter.”

  At the rate the traffic flowed, Mercedes wouldn’t arrive until the incident had been sorted. She checked the message again. Ten minutes had passed since the phone beeped its alert. Approximately three minutes since the cops had been dispatched. God she hoped Samantha was all right.

  Christian remained suspiciously quiet on the other end of the phone. He hadn’t disconnected the call, and she could hear muffled conversation over the Bluetooth connection once more. Mercedes veered the car left, heading down past Central Station, the traffic bottleneck easing, allowing her to grab the opportunity to accelerate, gaining time, before getting stuck again going along Broadway.

  “Tell me about this stalker we have reports on.” Christian’s question startled her out of her thoughts.

  “You have the reports, so there isn’t anything else to add. He started sending messages and flowers, and then some underwear went missing from her clothesline a few times. It all seemed harmless. Girls in the profession have to deal with those sorts of things regularly, but they never usually amount to anything though. The girls only reported it because you told me they should when I mentioned it to you. Then Samantha received a pretty graphic death threat along with the black roses, so we reported that incident as well. As far as I know, nothing else has happened, until today.”

  “You said the girls. How many others have similar contact from this person?”

  “Um, Katie has also received messages, plus one repent or die threat. Nothing as specific as Samantha’s threat, though. She’s also filed a police report.”

  “Is she at work today? Katie I mean.” The concern in her brother’s voice reignited her panic. What was going on? What did he know that she didn’t?

  “No she’s not working today. Why?” Her question went unanswered. More muffled words filtered through the speakers. “Christian, talk to me, damn it. What’s going on?”

  Mercedes heard a door slam then a car engine start. The phone beeped as if disconnecting then answering again.

  “Where are you going, Christian?” Mercedes turned right, heading into the leafy suburb where Samantha lived. Old trees, heavily laden with plush green foliage, dotted the streets. Semidetached housing and old-style mining cottages lined either side of the road. The suburb, despite it being one of the original inner city residential areas, buzzed with activity. The young café generation had moved in, calling the suburb home, renovating once dilapidated homes and breathing new life into the area’s shops, restaurants, and cafés.

  “I’m here. I’ve sent someone out to Katie Walsh’s home to check she’s all right. I really need you to turn around. Either go home or back to work. I’ll be in touch with you again shortly, Mercedes.”

  “Tell me what’s going on, Christian. I’m a big girl. I can cope.” Mercedes felt like she had a rock in the pit of her stomach, the weight of concern for Samantha, and now Katie, seeming to have nowhere to go. Nausea built as she waited for Christian to reply. Mercedes edged the car to the side of the road, knowing she didn’t want to be driving when she heard the news Christian seemed so reluctant to deliver.

  “She didn’t make it, sis. If you continue on to the house you’ll be driving to a murder scene. I want you to go home. I’ll come and visit as soon as I’m done at Samantha’s.”

  Mercedes stomach lurched as she slammed the car to a halt. Samantha was dead, killed at the hands of a psychopath who targeted her because of the profession she chose to work in. Mercedes flung the car door open, leaning the upper half of her body out along with it as
her stomach threatened to lose its contents. Nightmarish visions filled her head, reminders of the time she longed to forget. If Samantha’s ordeal was anything like Mercedes’s experience all those years ago…She startled when a gentle hand touched her shoulder. Raising her head, she stared into her brother’s eyes.

  “I have to be there for her, Christian. Don’t make me leave. I don’t want her to be alone.” Christian gave an understanding nod as he helped her from the car, directing her to the passenger side.

  “I’ll follow you to the scene, Pete.” The instruction, greeted with a curt nod and combined with a quizzical glance toward her from the officer traveling with her brother, wasn’t questioned.

  Once he appeared satisfied Mercedes was all right, Christian positioned himself in the driver’s seat and the journey continued.

  “You stay in the car until they’re ready to bring her out. Then you can see her.” His tone was firm, his jaw set, telling Mercedes not to argue. “I’ll tell her you’re here when I go inside so she knows she’s not alone.”

  “Okay, thank you, Christian.” Her breath hitched as she answered, knowing now was not the time to cry. She had to stay strong for Samantha. Mercedes may notice something the police overlook, give them some kind of vital clue into the identity of the killer. She’d do anything to help.

  Mercedes sat alone in the car. The area outside Samantha’s home only hinted at what might be going on inside. Uniformed officers kept curious bystanders at bay, moving them on if they lingered too long. Forensic Unit SUVs, an ambulance, the coroner’s van, along with numerous marked and unmarked police cars, cluttered the quiet street. Her red sports coupe looked distinctly out of place parked amidst a sea of traditional white emergency vehicles.