Second Chance Summer: Menage Romance Novel (Midnight Cove Menage Book 1) by Marie Carnay Page A

She moaned into his hand, tiny little mewls of desire she couldn’t hold back. Oh, how she wanted to come! In answer to her wish, his other hand snaked down in front of her, shoving past her panties to stroke her clit.
    Over and over he worked her little nub as he fucked her from behind and she came again, biting her own cheek to keep from screaming. Her pussy clenched around Blake’s cock and he came, spurting his hot seed deep inside her.
    They collapsed against the rock, sucking in silent breaths until at last Blake slipped out. He cleaned himself off before turning to Summer. His hands slipped up her thighs, straightening her panties. He tugged her bra and dress back into place and spun her around.
    “You’re incredible.”
    Summer grinned. “I’m inspired. Take me shopping. I need supplies.”

Chapter Nine
    SUMMER
    P aint splattered across the canvas in a wild arc. Red mixing with blue. Green swooping up from down below. White thrown in for good measure.
    Summer wiped a glob of ochre off her cheek and grabbed another palate. God, to be in the zone. Alive and vibrant and humming. Ten feet tall with magic in her fingers and an endless sea churning in her head.
    It wasn’t just the oh hell, yes sex . On the beach? Against the rocks? With surfers ten feet away? Summer’d come so hard she’d almost cried.
    Instead of tears, all the pent up emotions—everything she’d buried and covered in a million layers of primer and acrylic—exploded inside her mind.
    She had to paint. To get it all out and onto the canvas before she suffocated. Before it all faded and she’d be right back in New York. Barren and empty with nothing to paint but the gray walls of her apartment and the dirty streets below.
    Blake! He’d turned everything upside down and inside out. It didn’t matter that they’d barely talked. That look in his eyes—the feral I-could-eat-you claim—it turned her to jelly. Summer dipped her brush in the water and swished it around.
    Green. It needs more green.
    She blotted the bristles on a paper towel and dipped the brush in a well of dark hunter green. Perfect.
    She dotted the lower right edge of the painting—trees and bushes and hunger. All right there pouring from her hands into art. God, she hadn’t done this in years. Not since—
    “What the hell?”
    The paint brush slipped out of Summer’s hand and clattered on the floor. “Shit. Devin, you scared me.”
    Summer bent to pick it up and grabbed the roll of paper towels. She blotted up the paint as he walked up.
    “What are you doing in here?”
    Summer stood up. “Hello to you, too. Blake said I could use the space.”
    “He didn’t tell me.”
    Summer frowned. “Is there some problem?”
    Devin looked around at the drop cloths and paint brushes and canvases set up against the wall. “Have you seen Ivy? The inspector? Brad was supposed to be up here, checking the place out.”
    Summer stiffened. “What for?”
    “The bar permit. It was supposed to be approved already.”
    “Ivy said it was put on hold.”
    Devin’s eyes shot up. “When’d you talk to Ivy?”
    “This morning. At the spa. She was coming in when I was leaving.”
    “What else did she say?”
    Summer snorted. The last thing she wanted was to rehash that conversation. Not now when she was in the groove. So close to finishing a painting. The fastest she’d worked since she’d been in college. “It doesn’t matter.”
    Devin stalked forward. “It does matter.”
    Summer stepped back. “Not right now. Just call her. Figure out what’s going on. I’ve got to get back to this—”
    Devin grabbed her wrist. “You don’t have to get back to anything. This is my bar, my house, and I need to know what’s going on.”
    “Let go of me! Blake said I could be here!”
    Devin’s eyes flashed. “What’s going on between you and Blake?”
    “What do you mean?” She tugged on her wrist, but Devin held it fast.
    He inched forward and she could see the flecks of green in