Clifftop Fantasies [BDSM Menage Fantasies] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Cassidy Browning Page A

Brad wanted to make a new start and try to save their relationship, they had better get busy.
    He picked up the phone almost immediately. There was the sound of clinking dishes and lots of voices in the background. She glanced at her watch and saw that it was 11:20. He probably hadn’t had breakfast this morning, and after not eating last night, she guessed it wasn’t too surprising he was out for an early lunch.
    “Hi,” she said tentatively. “Can we talk for a minute?”
    “Um…” He sounded hesitant.
    “Are you in a meeting?”
    “Not really—well, kind of. Can you excuse me for a minute?” The last thing was said to someone on his end.
    There was a peal of laughter, and a female voice said, “Sure, sweetie. Take your time.”
    It was Jane. Allie froze, listening for her to say something else, but there was no question in her mind really. Jane was having lunch with Brad. Allie’s boyfriend. And laughing as if there was nothing wrong in the world. Why would she be doing that?
    “Is that Jane?” she asked unnecessarily.
    “Um, yeah,” he admitted. Allie had been searching for an innocent, reasonable explanation, but the guilt in Brad’s voice told her what she needed to know.
    “What are you doing?” she demanded, forgetting her part as the girlfriend with the secret besmirched past.
    But Brad had recovered his position as the wronged, deceived boyfriend. “I’m having lunch,” he said defensively. “I needed to talk to somebody about everything that’s been going on.”
    Allie thought about that for a few seconds. “Did you call her?”
    “Well, no. She called and suggested we meet for lunch to talk things over. There’s nothing going on.”
    Allie considered. There was no way they could have a discussion about their future over the phone while he was sitting in a restaurant with another woman. She sighed.
    “Are you coming home tonight?”
    There was a pause. “I don’t think so,” Brad said finally. “I need some space to think about my options and decide what’s best for me. Besides, you have Karl there to take care of things.”
    She didn’t like the way he’d said that. She was tempted to say, “And is Jane taking care of things on your end?” but she resisted. Instead she asked, “Where are you staying?”
    “I’ll stay in my office. Or I’ll figure something else out. I’ll call you later. Our food’s here now.”
    He hung up without waiting for a response. Or saying “good-bye” or “I love you” or anything else. Allie stared at the phone in her hand. It was as if he’d already written off their whole life together. Could he be that shallow? And if he was dumping her because she’d done nude photography before she’d met him, why was he taking up with a woman who did it on a regular basis—and showed it to anyone who would look?
    She went back upstairs in a daze and sat down on the bed in the literary bedroom, staring at her work but not actually seeing it. She was picturing a bedroom covered with nude pictures—Jane, herself, random women in erotic poses, some tied up, all with spread legs and suggestive, inviting expressions. The images expanded to show Karl with a camera, taking pictures, ordering them all into the poses he wanted. It was intriguing, but she couldn’t allow herself to indulge in those kinds of thoughts. Yet. She sat for a few minutes, trying to pull her mind back into the real room with its photos of Emerson, Austen, Whitman, and Dickens, but it was no good. Finally she got up and raced down the stairs, through the kitchen, and across the yard toward the barn.

Chapter 11
     
    “Karl, I want to see the pic—” Allie tore into the barn’s main room, focused on getting the words out before she lost her nerve.
    She skidded to a stop just inside the door, her face instantly going bright red. Charlie, Karl, and another man were leaning over the table that she and Karl had been using earlier. There was a spread of pictures in front of them,