Angel Without Read online

  For Love of Authority 2

  Angel Without

  When Amber Whitman’s fiance suddenly turns violent, she flees back home—only to be told she has no choice but to marry the bastard. Refusing to live her life as an abused woman, Amber takes off in the dead of night. But now she’s out of money, out of options, and out of ideas. She has no place to turn…or does she?

  All these years, Amber thought her beloved adopted brother, Allen, was dead. When she discovers he’s not only alive, but living in the same city, she runs to him for help. Fortunately, Allen and his lovers have a plan to keep Amber safe. Allen brings his little sister to stay with Maddox Henley, a Dom with a dark past, and Riley Jones, an ex-soldier with a dark secret. Together, these two strapping construction workers have the balls and ability to keep a young woman safe from all outside threats.

  But can they keep her safe from the threat they pose to her heart?

  Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre

  Length: 106,377 words

  ANGEL WITHOUT

  For Love of Authority 2

  Rhiannon Ayers

  MENAGE AMOUR

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Amour

  ANGEL WITHOUT

  Copyright © 2014 by Rhiannon Ayers

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-63258-130-3

  First E-book Publication: August 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 Angel Without by Rhiannon Ayers 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 Rhiannon Ayers’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Ayers’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  www.BookStrand.com

  DEDICATION

  To my husband. Thank you for putting up with me and all the other people living in my head. None of us would be here today without your endless patience and loving support.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  ANGEL WITHOUT

  For Love of Authority 2

  RHIANNON AYERS

  Copyright © 2014

  Prologue

  Allen stared at the security guard who had just ruined his wedding reception and thought, Damn, that must be some good booze they’re serving at the bar tonight.

  “I’m sorry,” he said slowly, “I don’t believe I heard you correctly. Who did you say was at the door?”

  The man sighed, fidgeting uncomfortably. “A young woman who says her name is Amber Whitman. She insists she’s your sister, and she’s begging you to speak with her.”

  While Allen just stood there, completely thunderstruck, Tatum slipped a hand in his and addressed the guard, scowling dangerously. “Please inform the lady that we’re in the middle of our wedding reception, and that she’ll need to wait. Or leave and come back another time. Or maybe just leave.” The last was said with an annoyed rumble Allen could feel all the way down to his toes.

  Sidri, standing on Allen’s other side, shot the big man a disgusted look. “Seriously?”

  Tatum grinned, unrepentant. “This is Allen’s day,” he said quietly. “Whoever this woman is, she has no business interrupting it.”

  Allen suppressed a shiver. Fuck, he loved it when his lovers jumped to his defense like that. Clearing his throat, he shot both of them a smile and returned his attention to the unhappy guard. “It’s all right. You can tell her she may stay. But she will have to wait until the guests leave.” He paused, bit his lip. “I don’t want a scene.”

  Tatum lifted one big hand, cupped the back of Allen’s neck. He turned the smaller man to meet his concerned gaze. “You don’t have to talk to her if you don’t want to,” he said seriously. “She wasn’t invited. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do today, baby.”

  “He’s right,” Sidri echoed. Allen turned, found her regarding him with shrewd green eyes. “She has no business being here. Whoever this woman is, you are under no obligation to indulge her.”

  He slipped his hand in Sidri’s, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb as he smiled at her. “I appreciate you both trying to protect me,” he said sincerely, glancing back and forth between them, “But I promise you, I’m fine. If it’s just some random woman, I can just tell her to get the hell off our property. And if it really is Amber…” He trailed off, a sudden lump forming in his throat.

  Tatum gripped Allen’s biceps, shot the security guard a scowl and said, “Excuse us.” Then he dragged Allen out of the room, Sidri in tow. They went to the downstairs bedroom, Tatum ushering both of them inside before closing the door and wrapping his arms around Allen’s waist.

  “Amber is the sister who first called you ‘Allen,’ isn�
��t she?” the big man queried.

  He nodded as Sidri came up behind him, wrapping her forearms over his stomach and resting her chin on his shoulder. “The guard said she’s young,” Sidri murmured. “I thought all your siblings were older than you.”

  Allen relaxed in their arms, basking in their protectiveness. He shook his head. “Amber was the baby. She came along after I arrived. She must be, oh, twenty-three or twenty-four by now. Not so little anymore.” His eyes went blank as memory assaulted him.

  “She was the only one who treated me like a real brother. At least, until she got old enough to realize I wasn’t actually part of the family. Then she kind of…disappeared. The others overshadowed her, to the point where I have almost no memories of her after I became a teenager. I always assumed she thought like the others—that once she realized I wasn’t really her brother, she just went along with how they treated me. But I don’t have any memories of her being mean, or anything like that. She was just sort of…there.”

  “Hmmm,” Sidri said, her voice vibrating through Allen’s chest deliciously. “Why do you think she’s here? If it really is her?”

  Allen shook his head. “I have no idea. I didn’t think she cared, one way or another, about my leaving them. Maybe she’s grown up enough to realize…hell, I don’t know. I have no clue why she’d be showing up here, especially today of all days.”

  “I can go tell the security guards to run her off,” Tatum said, absolute sincerity in his deep baritone voice. “You really don’t have any reason to talk to her.”

  Allen sighed. “Yes, I do. If it is Amber, then she went to a lot of trouble to come here tonight. I’ll hear what she has to say.” He paused, looked both of his lovers in the eye. “Alone.”

  Immediate protests. Allen shook his head, adamant. “I appreciate the gesture, really. But I need to do this alone. Please. If I need the both of you, don’t worry, I will come and get you.”

  Tatum was still frowning, his mouth drawn down in harsh, disapproving lines, but eventually he nodded. “All right. But if she hurts you, I swear to God I will kick her ass down the street. Understand?”

  Allen went all gooey inside, hearing the He-Man protectiveness in his husband’s voice. They’d only been married a week, and it still tickled him to call Tatum that. Sidri was just as much his wife as Tatum was his husband, of course. Though the paperwork only had Allen and Tatum’s names, she’d been a part of their ceremony, and she was just as much a part of them as they were of her. Their road to matrimonial bliss had been long and filled with potholes, but Allen knew down to the last atom of his being that both of them loved him desperately, completely, and without reservation. They would go to hell and back for him, no questions asked. And because he knew they would always be there, ready to swoop in and protect him from even the smallest threat, he knew he could face this piece of his past without fear or anger.

  With the two of them by his side, he could do anything, be anything, accomplish anything. They were his foundation, the bedrock on which his whole life was built. He had nothing to fear from anything or anyone, so long as the two of them loved him.

  Throat thick, he cupped Tatum’s cheek and brought his lips down for a soul-searing kiss. The big man rumbled approvingly, reaching both long arms around Allen and cinching them around Sidri’s waist, sandwiching Allen between the two of them. Allen whimpered, suddenly hard as rock, as Sidri began kissing his neck, nibbling his earlobes. Panting, he ran his fingers through Sidri’s hair, holding her close as she nipped and sucked the skin behind his ear. His other hand was wrapped in Tatum’s collar, hanging on for dear life as the man plundered his mouth with deep, sure strokes of his tongue. Allen was just starting to think about the enticingly empty bed in the room when a knock broke the rising sexual tension.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt,” a quavering voice said on the other side of the door, “but there are a few guests who are ready to leave. They would like to say good-bye and give their congratulations, if you would be so kind.”

  Tatum groaned, stealing one last kiss before pulling back. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes dilated, and Allen wanted to do nothing more than grab him and kiss him some more. Clearing his throat, he tried smoothing his suit jacket. Sidri chuckled behind him, reaching up to smooth his hair for him. She took hold of Allen’s chin and sealed their lips together for a long, hot kiss, then pulled back with a wicked little grin.

  “You better hope this little conversation with that woman is short and to the point,” she said in the sexy-as-sin purr she did so well. “Because Tatum and I are anxious to get you out of that suit and fuck you senseless.”

  Allen groaned, licking kiss-bruised lips. “Jesus, Sid. How am I supposed to say farewell to the rest of our guests if I’ve got a raging hard-on?”

  Her green eyes glimmered as Tatum rumbled out a laugh. “You’ll just have to tell it to behave, won’t you? Now, come on, let’s get this over with. The sooner these people are out of our house, the sooner we can get you naked.”

  Cursing like a sailor while his lovers just laughed, Allen allowed himself to be led from the room. It would be all right. Even if the woman who wanted to see him really was his baby sister, Amber, she wasn’t a part of his life. He could hear her out and show her the door, with no regrets.

  He already had a family who loved him.

  Chapter 1

  Amber Whitman stood on the front porch of her brother’s gorgeous lake house, shivering, and thought, I wonder if he’ll believe me when I tell him I thought he was dead.

  She pulled the lapels of her jacket closer, fighting the chilling breeze as the two security guards glared holes through her head. February was such a capricious month in Texas. Last year, the weather had been beautiful, with seventy-degree temperatures and clear blue skies. This year, a howling north wind left frost on the grass every morning, and the temp hadn’t gotten above forty since November. Still, at least it was somewhat warm, here on the porch. Better than sitting in her car with the broken heater.

  Frosty reception notwithstanding.

  Amber took a deep breath, let it out slowly. She knew she had no business being here, especially tonight. But things had gotten so out of control, she didn’t know where else to turn. Allen was her last hope, her last safe haven—that is, if he deigned to speak with her.

  Closing her eyes briefly, Amber bit her lip and sighed. No, that wasn’t true. She’d had other options, besides coming here. She could have gotten in her BMW, taken the I-10 freeway, and shown the state of Texas her taillights. She could have gone back home, submitted to her father’s will, let the creep he wanted her to marry have his way with her. She could have given up, resigned herself to her fate, chosen to let herself get beaten every night for the rest of her life.

  But giving up wasn’t in her nature.

  Five months ago, she’d been in heaven. Her father, Robert Whitman, had introduced her to his best friend’s son, Wes Walker. Wes was devilishly handsome, a real man’s man, with a clear Alpha set to his chin and shoulders. She’d taken one look at him and fallen head-over-heels in love, certain she’d met the man of her dreams. His thick brown hair, clear blue eyes, and devil-may-care smile made her weak in the knees, and that trim, gorgeous body sent her spinning with lust. They started dating immediately, becoming intimate right from the first date, and she’d been certain this man would fulfill every single one of her most secret desires. He’d proposed within a month, and she’d been on cloud nine, certain her future would be bright and filled with everlasting love.

  That is, until he started drinking. Wes was a mean drunk, screaming at her, calling her a whore for even glancing at other men. But at first, he hadn’t gotten physical, keeping his abusive tirades verbal. She’d consoled herself by saying he was a busy man—he was a high-stakes investment banker, with millions of dollars on the line every day, certainly a stressful job—and forgiven him the moment he sobered up and apologized. She’d told herself it didn’t matter, that she was in love with hi
m, and she could deal with the occasional drunken outburst if it meant being with the man she loved for the rest of her life.

  But it didn’t stay verbal. Wes turned violent two weeks ago, slamming her against the wall and choking her until she nearly passed out. The bruises were healed, now, but she could still feel his hands gripping her neck, still see the wildness in his eyes as he strangled her. She’d run away, crying, and thrown herself on her father’s doorstep, begging him to protect her.

  Robert Whitman had patted her shoulder, assured her everything would be all right. He sent her to her room, saying he would take care of everything. Tearfully, she’d obeyed, crawled into her old twin bed, and gone to sleep knowing her father would never let anything bad happen to her.

  An hour later, someone knocked on her bedroom door. Confused—no one who lived in the house would have knocked, they would have just come in—she opened it. And there stood Wes, drunk off his ass and weaving unsteadily, with murder in his eyes. He shoved her back in the room, calling her a cheating whore, and threw her on the bed. He raped her, right there in her father’s house. And while she was screaming, crying for her father or brother to come rescue her, she’d looked toward the door—and saw Robbie, her eldest brother, standing there watching the whole thing.

  Afterward, when she was bruised and bleeding and crying hysterically, her father had helped Wes drag her down the stairs and get her in his car. Right before Wes drove off, her father leaned in the window, kissed her brow, and told her she would get used to her soon-to-be-husband in time. The wedding was already planned, he said, so there was no cancelling it now. She would just have to buck up, gather her courage, and endure.