The Sextet Presents... Small, Medium, and Large [A Toy Story] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour) Read online

  A Toy Story

  The Sextet Presents... Small, Medium, and Large

  Sparks fly when tough executive Renee Swarovski meets video game designer Toby Lawrence in a sex toy shop. Renee is the perfect woman to don a strap-on and fulfill his ultimate fantasy, and Toby is the cutest thing Renee has ever seen, instantly igniting her dormant passions.

  Renee joins Toby for a get-acquainted dinner and agrees to follow him home, where she is introduced to his roommate, agricultural engineer Lance Svahnstrom. The handsome blond giant has a closet full of whips and leather corsets but has yet to find his dominatrix. When the three of them come together in an unlikely ménage, the unspoken attraction between Lance and Toby blossoms.

  After an exciting weekend, Renee returns to work and blows the whistle on an embezzler—a move that could end her career. She can't wait to see her men again, but with their newfound love, will they still want her?

  Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre

  Length: 27,247 words

  THE SEXTET PRESENTS…

  SMALL, MEDIUM, AND LARGE

  A Toy Story

  Cheryl Brooks

  MENAGE AMOUR

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Amour

  THE SEXTET PRESENTS… SMALL, MEDIUM, AND LARGE

  Copyright © 2012 by Cheryl Brooks

  E-book ISBN: 1-61926-575-3

  First E-book Publication: April 2012

  Cover design by Jinger Heaston

  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,

  If you have purchased this copy of The Sextet Presents… Small, Medium, and Large by Cheryl Brooks 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 Cheryl Brooks’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Brooks’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  DEDICATION

  For the latent dominatrix in all of us…

  THE SEXTET PRESENTS… SMALL, MEDIUM, AND LARGE

  A Toy Story

  CHERYL BROOKS

  Copyright © 2012

  Chapter One

  He was just about the cutest thing Renee Swarovski had ever seen. Unfortunately, he was all alone in a sex toy shop gazing longingly at the strap-ons.

  Which meant what? That he was gay and his boyfriend was impotent? That he was straight and was buying it for a girlfriend who suffered from penis envy? Or maybe he was monosexual and thinking of branching out into bisexuality. Who knew? God knows I’d never ask…

  Tearing her eyes away from him, Renee went back to perusing the dildos. She wasn’t there to pick up a guy. Not a real one, anyway. Visiting a toy shop was simply a way to take her mind off the upcoming board meeting. The one where I nail George Muntan’s sorry ass to the wall.

  She drifted further along the aisle. Too big…too weird…too scary…too purple… “Why don’t they make anything that looks like a normal penis?” she muttered.

  “They do. Those cyberskin types are pretty realistic. They even have balls.”

  Renee glanced sideways. Cutie-face was actually speaking to her—with all the conviction of someone who knew what he was talking about.

  “They’re kinda pricy,” he went on. “But worth every penny.”

  Renee frowned. “Do you work here?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Be a fun job, though, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yeah, maybe. Except when you have to deal with the weirdos.”

  “Don’t get many of those in a place like this,” he said, ignoring the suggestion that he might be one of them. “Not like the sleazy truck-stop adult stores. These toy shops mostly cater to women and couples.”

  Renee gave him another quick glance. “So you’re here looking for girls?” Girls was probably the correct term for a guy his age. Actually, he didn’t look old enough to come through the door. Well, maybe he did. But just barely. Nineteen, tops.

  He laughed, nodding toward the strap-ons. “If I could find one who liked this sort of thing, it might be worth it.”

  His smile hit Renee right in the clit, and suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to bend him over and fuck his pretty little ass. Hard.

  Where the hell did that come from? With a blink and a rather difficult swallow, Renee turned away again, which was much harder to do this time, what with every erogenous zone she possessed lighting up like the Fourth of July. I must be losing my mind…

  He went right on talking like the Earth hadn’t just gone spinning out of its orbit. “’Course I’d probably get arrested for hanging around too long. I bet they don’t sell many of those to straight women.”

  Hmmm… “You might be surprised,” she said. “Then again, with you standing there watching, most girls would be too chicken to pick one up.”

  Unless they see what I’m seeing… Renee gave in to the urge to take a nice, long, assessing look at him. A good bit shorter than her five foot ten, she guessed him at about five four, and though there wasn’t a whole lot of the body visible—curse those baggy jeans!—the best she could tell, he was at a good weight for his height. Not too skinny, not too fat. Just right. He was wearing a plain T-shirt, and a blue-and-black plaid flannel shirt as a jacket. Nothing special there, until
she drank in his dark, tousled curls, sensuous mouth, and big brown eyes that twinkled even when he wasn’t smiling.

  Renee gave him a wry grin and turned back to the dildos, which, not surprisingly, had suddenly lost what little appeal they’d had for her. Ain’t nothin’ like the real thing, baby…

  Against her better judgment, she cleared her throat and kept on talking. “A cute guy like you shouldn’t have any trouble finding women—or men, if that’s your preference.”

  “No, I prefer girls. Which makes explaining why I like those”—another nod toward the attachable dicks—“so tough.”

  Renee understood the feeling completely—though she’d only felt it for the first time mere moments before. “Different strokes,” she said with a shrug.

  “And they’ve got it all here, don’t they?”

  That was true. Something for every taste and fetish. Why am I still talking to this guy?

  The answer to that question came all too easily. Because he’s cute, and you haven’t had a boyfriend in ages. No, better make that years. She had met men—had even dated a few—but the sizzle wasn’t there. She glanced at Cutie-face. Not like now. Not like with him.

  She was about to say something totally stupid, and she knew it. He could be a serial killer. He could be a total pervert. He could be a real sicko. Or he could be the one you’ve been looking for.

  “Something for everyone.” Trapping her upper lip between her teeth, she bowed her head, ever so slightly.

  “And what is it you want?”

  He just had to ask, didn’t he? Renee took a deep breath and blurted out exactly what she’d been thinking. “I want to strap on that fake dick, bend you over, and fuck your pretty little ass.” And I haven’t even been drinking. My, how astonishing…

  His eyes lit up. “You’re sure about that?”

  “Yeah. I’ll even pay for the damn thing.”

  He shook his head vigorously. “No. If you’ll fuck me, I’ll spring for the dick and the lube. Hell, I’ll buy you dinner, a new car, a house—”

  Renee had to laugh. “That’s a lot of money for a kid like you, isn’t it?”

  He shook his head again, more slowly this time. “Got loads of that. I designed a video game. It’s sold millions.”

  Renee’s mouth dropped open, but only for a moment. “Okay, I’ve got to ask this now. How old are you?”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Flipping it open, he held it right under her nose. “Nobody believes me otherwise.”

  He had an Illinois driver’s license, and it was his picture, all right. His name was Toby Lawrence, and she didn’t even have to do the math because his birth date was almost exactly two years after hers. He was twenty-nine to her thirty-one. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  “Oh, I hope not…”

  Renee giggled in reply, which was odd because she never giggled. It was undignified. After all, she was a respected member of the business community. She wore suits to work and rarely smiled, let alone giggled, hence her reputation as a real hard-ass. Her handshake was as firm as her grip on her emotions. Until now, when this cute little bugger had her brain doing handsprings. Naked handsprings. Of course, if she’d been wearing a suit, he might not have said anything to her at all. She’d have been much too intimidating. Her motto was, “Women respect me. Men fear me.” But late on a Saturday afternoon, she was incognito, her long, blonde hair pulled back in a perky ponytail rather than the usual French roll, no makeup, her oldest jeans, a baggy sweater, and a pair of cheap sneakers she’d bought at Kmart. She wasn’t even carrying a purse, just had her keys and wallet stashed in her pockets, which was something she’d always considered to be rather freeing. A woman never realized how much a purse held her down until she dispensed with it. Without makeup, all anyone needed was a ChapStick in their pocket—and a couple of Kleenex for the times when cute little guys like Toby made her drool.

  The funny thing was, this wasn’t the first toy shop she’d visited, and always before, her presence had tended to send the solitary males scurrying. She’d never been importuned in her life. The whole “men fear me” thing was sometimes useful, sometimes not, but what was so different about this particular instance? Was it fate, or destiny, or what?

  * * * *

  Toby grinned. He’d made that tough cookie giggle like a schoolgirl. She might be dressed casually, but he could sense the steel in her from her posture alone. She was used to taking charge, and what she’d said proved it. Fabulous.

  “How about dinner first? There’s a great Mexican place right next door.”

  She laughed again. “Does that mean I have time to get to know my new bitch before I take him home and fuck him?”

  She certainly had the style—and the balls—to go along with that pretty face and dynamite body. “If you want to think of it that way. I just wanted to give you time to think about what you’re getting into. Don’t want it to be one of those heat of the moment things you’ll regret in the morning.”

  “That’s terribly considerate of you,” she said with a smile that robbed him of breath. “But then, you might be the one who wants to back out.”

  He licked his lips, slowly, deliberately. “Not until I’ve seen you wearing a strap-on. I think I might explode before you ever get started.”

  “None of that, now.” Her firm tone sent shivers racing down his spine. She nodded toward the counter. “Go buy your dick and I’ll meet you outside.”

  His heart dropped like a stone. She’d led him on and was intending to run out on him. Damn.

  Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her wallet and handed him a hundred dollar bill. “While you’re at it, buy me one of those cyberskin deely-bobs—the one with balls.” Leveling a stern gaze at him, she added, “And I expect you to bring me the change.”

  Relief washed over him. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Toby snatched up the his-and-hers dildos and a bottle of lube. Up at the counter, he threw in a couple of vibrating cock rings and two boxes of condoms. As a result, his own dick was harder than the fake ones by the time he made it out the door.

  She was waiting for him, resting her red-hot ass against the hood of a Lexus. So. She had money, too. All the better. They’d be on even footing in that respect.

  He handed her the bag and her change. “I was a little afraid you wouldn’t be here,” he admitted.

  “I probably shouldn’t be. It’s not like I know anything about you.”

  “At least you know my name. You haven’t told me yours yet.”

  She held out her hand. “Renee Swarovski.”

  Her handshake was brisk and businesslike. “Sounds like a good name for a woman with a dick.”

  Chuckling, she unlocked the door to her car and tossed the bag inside. “I’ve been accused of that before.”

  “Hurt your chances with men?”

  Her nonchalant shrug was almost too studied to be genuine. “Not today, apparently.”

  “But it has before?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Linking her arm through his, she started walking. “But if you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about that right now. I want to talk about you and why I should trust you.”

  Toby knew she was safe around him, but he was beginning to wonder about himself. “Hey, I let myself get picked up by a woman in a sex toy shop. I’d say that makes me pretty harmless.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Could be a ploy. You could be trying to lull me into a false sense of security and then, wham, I’m on the front page of the Chicago Tribune as a missing person.”

  He sighed. “Not everyone is a serial killer, Renee. Actually, there are comparatively few of them.”

  “Yes, but they tend to prey on unsuspecting females.”

  Toby snickered. “And you are the least unsuspecting of any female I’ve ever met. It’ll probably be my name on the front page.”

  “Not likely. Haven’t killed anyone yet. Pissed off a lot of people, though.” She laughed lightly. “It’s my nature to be ru
thless. When it comes to business, anyway.”

  “But you do have a softer side, don’t you?”

  She turned and studied him with eyes so blue it almost hurt to look at them. “Yeah, I’ve got a softer side. Not many people have seen it. Sometimes it pays to keep that sort of thing under wraps.”

  Toby was fascinated. He wanted nothing more than to explore every facet of her personality. Something told him he was going to like every single one of them. “So, what does a ruthless businesswoman do for fun?”

  “She takes sweet little men home and fucks their asses.”

  There it was again—that studied nonchalance. She was hiding something. “Aside from that.”

  Her expression clouded. “Ah, so you want the truth. Not much, actually. All work and no play makes Renee a dull girl. You know the drill.”

  “Well, no, I don’t. I mean, yes, I’ve heard that saying, but I don’t subscribe to it myself.”

  “Probably not. Let’s see, now… What would you do for fun? You designed a video game, so you must play them constantly. You’re bound to have all sorts of neat gadgets. You like being single. You don’t need women because you’ve already got plenty of toys, and you don’t want the responsibility of a family. Am I right?”

  “Partly.” Actually, she’d come a little too close for comfort on a couple of those, except for the not needing women part. Lately, women were all he could think about. He’d spent his entire youth sitting in front of a computer, enmeshed in a virtual world. It was enticing, but predictable. Women, on the other hand, were anything but predictable, especially this one, who’d already surprised him more than once. Reality was beginning to have a very strong appeal.