Fire & Ice: A Ménage Fantasy
Fire & Ice
CHANCE CARTER
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Personal Note
Free Story Offer
Quotes
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
Wet
Lumberjacked
Grace and Mercy
Baby Makes Three
FIRE & ICE
CHANCE CARTER
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Copyright © 2017 Chance Carter
ISBN: 978-1-927947-81-4
Personal Note
Dear reader,
Before you dive into my story, I want to take this moment to thank you for what you have done. You have chosen to read my book, to offer me your trust, and to open your heart to my words.
It is an honor that I cherish.
Few things in life are as intimate or as powerful as the bond between reader and writer. It is something magical, unlike anything else on earth. It defies time and space. Through the power of words, we are creating a connection that will bring us as close together as two people can possibly become.
We will go to a place of extreme intimacy, intense beauty, and excruciating pleasure. Together, we will journey to the very essence of the relationship between man and woman, the moment of orgasm.
This book is about that spark, that moment, when a man and woman share climax. It is mystical, it is spiritual, and it is the one thing in the world that leads to new life. People call it sex, but those three letters fail to do it justice. It is so much more than that, and I am proud to spend the time we are connected exploring its meaning.
I dedicate this book to you, my reader. You have chosen to enter that moment with me, to explore its magic, and to experience its pleasure. It is something that will link us forever.
CHANCE CARTER
Free Story Offer
The Saragossa brothers are handsome, sexy billionaires who are heirs to the throne of a small European province. Their country is strictly conservative and they’re forbidden from having sex until their government finds them suitable matches from one of Europe’s royal families.
The problem is that there are no eligible princesses, and there never will be. Added to this is the fact that both brothers have always fantasized about being with a normal, sexy, American girl they could trust. Privacy is vital to them and they’ve never been sure they could avoid scandal until they meet Baby Sinclair.
Baby is the girl they’ve always wanted, the American girl who will accept them for who they are and share the greatest pleasure on earth with them. They want to taste her. They want to enjoy her. They want to share her.
But most importantly of all, they want to keep her, Forever.
This is a short MFM ménage story between two sexy European brothers and one innocent American girl with a guaranteed happy ending!
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Quotes
“Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear.”
–Charlotte Brontë
“Each time you happen to me all over again.”
–Edith Wharton
“I want to do with you what the spring does with the cherry trees.”
–Pablo Neruda
“To love or have loved, that is enough. Ask nothing further. There is no other pearl in the dark folds of life.”
–Victor Hugo
“One is loved because one is loved. No reason is needed for loving.”
–Paulo Coelho
“I love you like a man loves a woman he never touches, only writes to, keeps little photographs of.”
–Charles Bukowski
“It doesn’t matter who you are or what you look like, so long as somebody loves you.”
–Roald Dahl
Chapter 1
Nora
Nora tried to keep her expression neutral, not wanting to appear shocked by the outrageous exploits that her patient was determined to describe, apparently in even more detail.
“Both men were completely focused on me, but in very different ways. The whole experience was mind-blowing. I must have orgasmed a hundred fucking times. Between the two of them, not an inch of my body was left unexplored. They touched me, kissed me, bit, nibbled, and caressed me from top to bottom. They filled every hole. I was covered in their sweat, saliva and cum,” Sue whispered provocatively, trying to test Nora’s comfort level, as she carefully gauged her reaction.
“It was fucking hot! Definitely a fantasy come true, but I know what you are going to say, Dr. Dupree. You think that sex for me is some sort of compulsion, that I need my partners to somehow validate me, right? That I’m compensating for something.”
Nora’s patient leaned forward and brushed her long blond bangs aside, grinning broadly and waiting for her response. Unfazed, Nora leaned forward slightly, and tilted her head.
“Why do you think that I’m going to say that, Sue?” Nora questioned gently.
“Because women like you always think that women like me must have some sort of clinical issue. It helps people to make sense of me somehow. Like, I must have some sort of deviant social disorder, right? Just because I like to fuck a lot?” Sue goaded, her tone playful, yet defensive.
Nora sat back and smiled warmly.
“I can’t speak for other women, but at the moment I’m just listening and processing. I’m not here to judge you, Sue. I am here because you asked me to help you figure it all out.”
Sue regarded Nora carefully.
“So you think it’s okay then? The fact that I like sex?” Sue challenged.
This was only their second appointment together and Nora was still getting to know her patient. Sue had come to Nora out of concern that her preoccupation with sex was interfering with her life. She was also consistently engaging in dangerous behaviors that could compromise her health and well-being. In spite of reaching out for help, it wasn’t uncommon for people to push back, especially when addiction was part of the equation.
“Sex is very enjoyable by design. We’re supposed to like it,” Nora offered evenly, “In fa—“
“So why does everyone think I have a problem then?” Sue spat, interrupting Nora, and throwing her arms up for emphasis.
“Do people think you have a problem?” Nora asked, lowering her voice slightly—a technique she frequently used when her patients became agitated.
“No shit, Sherlock! I get judged all the time. My friends and family won’t even speak to me anymore. It’s fucking bullshit, and none of their damn business anyway!”
Sue’s frustration was obvious.
“Why do you think your friends and family no longer speak to you?” Nora pressed cautiously.
“Let’s see. Because they’re losers and fucking jealous? They have boring, bland, monogamous sex lives and their lazy-ass partners don’t make any effort for them or even care if they cum or not? They hate that they settled? That they’r
e no longer desired? How the fuck should I know?” Sue snorted, rolling her eyes.
“Is that true?” Nora urged, “Are they jealous?”
“What else could it be?” Sue stammered, throwing herself back in the chair.
“Well, what else could it be, do you think?” Nora pushed gently, taking a sip of her tea.
Sue looked at her blankly, offering no response, some of her bravado fading. Nora waited patiently.
“I’m not sure,” Sue finally replied, after a long pause.
“Have you ever asked them?” Nora queried, gently guiding her patient down a healing path.
“Specifically?”
“Um-hm,” Nora nodded. Sue inhaled thoughtfully, shaking her head.
“Do you want to know?” Nora asked, smiling softly.
Sue responded with a dismissive shrug.
“Hear me out here. What if the reasons you suggested aren’t really the reasons at all? What if it is something different, like they are worried about you? Maybe their value system is different than yours and they aren’t sure how to process it? Maybe they’re uncomfortable with your choices and don’t know how to tell you? Ultimately, these are just assumptions, just like yours. Neither right nor wrong, just assumptions.”
Nora paused for effect, waiting for a signal from Sue, who slowly inclined her head.
“Does it bother you that the people in your circle have distanced themselves?” Nora asked gently.
Sue nodded, but said nothing.
“Is there anything else in your life that has changed that could be a direct result of your choices?” Nora continued.
Sue grinned mischievously.
“You mean aside from the mind blowing sex?”
“Yes. Aside from that… are there things you regret or feel are a loss?” Nora clarified, smiling, but unwilling to let Sue joke her way out of it.
“I lost my boyfriend of six years. He was good to me and I— I cheated on him, several times. I knew the whole time it was a horrible thing to do to him. At the time I had all kinds of ways to justify it, but I really do regret hurting him,” Sue admitted, offering Nora a glimpse of her vulnerability.
Nora nodded slowly, urging her to continue. Sue sighed deeply then offered a slight smile, as she finally put down her guard. This was the cue Nora had been waiting for.
* * *
Nora sat in the L.A. traffic, waiting to make her way home to Pasadena through the usual gridlock. She put her car in park, knowing from past experience that realistically, it could be several minutes before the traffic started moving again. Not one to be impatient, she decided to make the best of it and leaned back, settling comfortably in the leather seat. She inhaled deeply, her mind drifting back over her day. Nora reflected on her time spent with Sue. Specifically recalling the description of the threesome she’d participated in. The girl had been so expressive and detailed, and while Nora had been able to keep it in a professional context at the time, she couldn’t help but be intrigued by the story.
Nora had completed her Doctorate in Psychology well over a year ago and was always a consummate professional. She knew how to separate professional observations from her personal opinions. She very intentionally maintained clear and appropriate boundaries and easily kept her business and personal affairs separate. It helped that she didn’t actually have much of a personal life, but that was beside the point. She knew it was perfectly acceptable, even normal, to have a healthy imagination and to fantasize about sex, and Sue’s story that day had awakened her own desires.
It had been a very long time since Nora had been with a man, maybe too long. She had thrown herself first into her studies, and then into building her career, perhaps purposely avoiding the dating thing. Men were a distraction, and after the whole Devon fiasco, she had learned her lesson.
Admittedly, she had turned her attention to her education and then her work—to avoid dealing with her anger and grief. It was an effective strategy, and she’d been able to complete her doctorate in record time. Unfortunately, it did nothing for her social life, and at 29 she was well on her way to becoming a reluctant spinster.
Nora chuckled at the word ‘spinster.’ Who the hell even used that word anymore, she thought scornfully, gently chiding herself. Christ, when was the last time she felt desired? She couldn’t even remember. When had she allowed herself to be playful and sexy? Had she ever?
She and Devon had been so young, and honestly, neither of them ever had much confidence in the bedroom, even after years of intimacy. People had such romantic notions of marrying their high school sweetheart, but in reality it was difficult to expand and evolve in a relationship like that, because you fell in love when you were no more than children. At least it had been that way for them, and neither of them had ever grown beyond their shyness around each other. Actually, it had proved disastrous for their relationship, and their marriage had ended before it ever really began.
Nora had remained single ever since. She’d been on a few dates here and there, but it wasn’t that easy to meet men in her scholarly circle. The guys she had dated were smart, decent and successful, but there just hadn’t been any sparks… not a one. Maybe it was a hopelessly romantic notion, but she wanted to be swept off her feet.
A blaring horn forced Nora out of her daydream. She looked up to see that the traffic had moved forward 15 feet while she’d had her head in the clouds. She offered a short wave to the car behind her as she crept up the minimal distance, shaking her head in annoyance.
“Happy?” She said out loud to no one in particular.
She looked into her rearview mirror to have another look. Yup, he was definitely grumpy. She caught her reflection before looking away. In spite of appearing temporarily frazzled, she was not an unattractive woman. She had never considered herself good looking, although she had been told on more than one occasion that she was a natural beauty. She didn’t fuss over her appearance and never wore much make-up. She always wore her long, dark hair in a pony-tail, rarely letting it loose or styling it, finding anything else too much of a bother.
Nora was a self-proclaimed ‘Plain Jane,’ generally low maintenance, except when it came to her wardrobe. She had an appreciation for nice clothes and didn’t mind spending her money on pretty things, even though she didn’t have much cause to wear them. She also had a shoe fetish that was not altogether healthy—she liked sexy shoes. But screw it, she could afford them. She just needed more reasons to take her things out of the closet and actually wear them. Now that she was through with school and her career was well-established, she had the time to date, just not a very large pool of potential choices. She didn’t have a large circle of friends, and her contacts were all professional.
It wasn’t easy for her to meet men and the thought of online dating didn’t appeal to her in the least. She had actually looked through a dating site once, casually scrolling through pages of profiles seeking promising matches, as though it was a cyber catalogue—the Sears Wish Book for lonely singles. She found herself quickly dissecting their attributes, analyzing their creativity and potential, then clicking through their images one by one, trying to picture them fitting into her life, or her slipping into theirs. It all seemed so impersonal and sterile, it made her feel completely disassociated and not particularly interested.
It wasn’t just about appearance was it? Attraction was a fickle thing. Sometimes it was a sexy chuckle that would turn a woman’s head, or a deep sultry voice, a crooked smile, a gleam in his eyes. Sometimes it was as simple as a gentle touch to the small of her back as she passed through the door ahead of him... these things didn’t show up in a one dimensional image on a website. How could she be sure that she didn’t dismiss someone that could have been her perfect match, her soul mate, only because his grainy photo failed to catch her eye?
Was it impossible to meet someone the old fashioned way?
Nora slowly eased her car forward as the traffic began to open up. She didn’t have a long commute, but she almost alwa
ys hit rush hour traffic, and in LA, rush hour was pretty much every hour. Once she got moving, she was able to pull into the parking lot of her apartment complex in no time.
After a quick bite to eat, Nora worked for a couple hours catching up on some reading she’d been behind on. Rewarding herself, she moved to a comfy chair and picked up a novel for some lighter reading, determined to prove she was not a workaholic with no life, but a busy professional who enjoyed literature.
Finally, she was ready for bed. Clinical psychology articles and then the mystery best seller she was halfway through had kept her mind occupied, but once she was in bed, fantasies slowly edged their way back in, teasing her need, and painfully reminding her that there was a large empty space beside her in the big bed. She had been sleeping alone for a long time now and quite frankly, it was starting to suck.
Nora had always been pretty discerning when it came to sexual activity. It wasn’t that she was a prude at all, she had a very healthy imagination. In her fantasies, she was always adventurous and playful, even a little dirty and unconventional, but she had been raised by Catholic parents who drilled it into her head from a very young age that unmarried women shouldn’t have sex. It was one of the reasons she had married so young, and that had turned out to be a holy disaster. As an adult, she was no longer religious, but for some reason she still felt uncomfortable with casual sex. She was still a little timid and found it difficult to initiate sex, even when she was horny as hell.
You can take the girl out of the Catholic Church but it was much harder to take the Catholic Church out of the girl, Nora mused. The truth was, she was attracted to confident men, and often fantasized about being with a strong man who would take charge in the bedroom, maybe even dominate her a little and bring her out of her shell; someone who would coax out her naughty side. But the men in her circle tended to be quite reserved, at least the ones she had dated, and they sorely lacked confidence.
Appearing to be reserved herself, was it at all surprising that she attracted a similar type of man? And even then, those dates had been few and far between.