Suncoast Society
Crafty Bastards
Six months ago, Cali Charleston’s heart got stomped on when her long-term boyfriend left, tossing her out of her home and her job. She’s finally got a new apartment for her and her cat, Baxter. Then a fire displaces them, leaving her homeless once more.
Max Trendle and Sean Dennison were badly burned emotionally by a woman in their past. But Cali’s not that woman. The two BDSM implement makers ask Cali to move in with them and soon have more on their minds than her helping them grow their business. They want Cali.
After losing what she thought was a sure-fire challenge, Cali quickly realizes sharing a bed with the two cuties isn’t a hardship. She wants to help them build their business, even if it means her cat becomes an Internet sensation. When aftershocks from the men’s past rattle her newfound bliss, can Cali figure out the truth, or will the two crafty bastards lose her forever?
Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length: 41,000 words
CRAFTY BASTARDS
Suncoast Society
Tymber Dalton
SIREN SENSATIONS
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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IMPRINT: Siren Sensations
CRAFTY BASTARDS
Copyright © 2015 by Tymber Dalton
E-book ISBN: 978-1-63258-758-9
First E-book Publication: January 2015
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2015 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,
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Regarding E-book Piracy
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DEDICATION
For Hubby, because I couldn’t do any of this without him. For Sir, because there is no end to the depths of His playfully evil mind. (In the good ways.) And for Grimmy, whose “help” while writing, and his refusal to stay out of my rope bag, became the inspiration for Baxter.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
While the books in the Suncoast Society series are standalone works which may be read independently of each other, the recommended reading order to avoid spoilers is as follows:
1. Safe Harbor
2. Cardinal’s Rule
3. Domme by Default
4. The Reluctant Dom
5. The Denim Dom
6. Pinch Me
7. Broken Toy
8. A Clean Sweep
9. A Roll of the Dice
10. His Canvas
11. A Lovely Shade of Ouch
12. Crafty Bastards
Some of the minor characters who appear in this book also appear in other books in the Suncoast Society series. All titles are available from Siren-BookStrand.
And always make sure to talk to your cats about the perils of “the nip.”
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Author's Note
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
About the Author
CRAFTY BASTARDS
Suncoast Society
TYMBER DALTON
Copyright © 2015
Chapter One
Finally. My own place.
Cali Charleston looked around the tiny apartment. The move had taken less than an hour, from start to finish, including drive time from her cousin’s house. She didn’t have much, mostly clothes, a bed, and a secondhand couch.
Fucking asshole.
That would teach her to trust someone. What’d it get her?
A big fat nothing, after nearly eight years of being faithful and loyal.
She slumped onto the couch and Baxter, her two-year-old cat, jumped into her lap. She’d adopted the black-and-white tuxedo when he was eight weeks old.
Ironically, from the animal shelter where she now worked.
“Hey, buddy. At least you can’t screw around on me. You’re neutered. I should have neutered Shane.”
On the other hand, she’d gotten custody of all their mutual friends, who were outraged on her behalf over Shane’s betrayal. They’d tried to offer her assistance, wanted to help her furnish her new place, all of that.
Other than accepting help moving the bed and the couch, which she’d picked up at a thrift shop for twenty-five bucks, she’d declined.
Cali was one to stand on her own feet. Always had been. Yes, she’d accepted the spare bedroom at her cousin’s house for six months, until she’d saved up enough money to pay the deposit, first, and last month’s rent on the tiny apartment, and knew she could make enough every month at her new job to cover her expenses.
But her cousin Ellen’s baby was due in a few weeks. While they hadn’t asked her to move out, Cali knew she couldn’t stay there.
Hope you’re enjoying Miami, asshole.
She knew she shouldn’t wish revenge on the g
uy, but she hoped Shane’s new squeeze gave him something an antibiotic couldn’t take care of.
Like maybe an exit wound from a large-caliber firearm.
Eight damn years, doing his accounting and bookkeeping for his business, and now all she had was a job at the animal shelter. Fortunately, they were able to pay her a little more than just a kennel assistant’s pay rate, since they needed a new webmaster and she could do other office duties. So it wasn’t just cleaning cages and caring for animals.
It was a job, and she knew she was damn lucky to have one in the first place.
Still, it stung.
Moving on…
Her best friend, Essie, and Essie’s men, had helped with the short move. One trip with all their vehicles, with plenty of room to spare.
Note to self, next time I get a boyfriend, all the shit stays in my name.
She’d originally moved into Shane’s house with him. She’d met him through friends at school. At the time, she’d been sharing an apartment with a friend.
Shane was the kind of guy she’d always dreamed about having. In business for himself with a landscaping and lawn care business, there was no shortage of work for him in the Sarasota area. He was self-employed, making decent money, and one of those sees it, wants it, gets it type of men that melted her panties.
And he’d melted them right off her body, all right.
Along with her brain.
When he’d asked her to quit her design job and come to work for him as his bookkeeper and office manager, of course she’d done it. They were making better money anyway.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Not so stupid for him.
I need a shower.
She shared her bathroom with Baxter’s litter pan. Essie, Josh, Mark, and Ted had talked Cali into coming with them that night to dinner and then to Venture, the BDSM club they were all members of. She’d wanted to save the money, but Essie wouldn’t take no for an answer and told Cali that dinner and her entry fee were on them tonight. To consider it a housewarming gift since Cali wouldn’t let them buy her any fancy luxuries, like dishes, utensils, or pots and pans.
Or groceries.
As Cali stripped and stepped under the spray, she thought about coincidences. How funny it was she had reached this point.
Funny of the sad and strange variety, not funny ha-ha.
Wasn’t anything the ha-ha kind of funny about her life now.
Two years ago, Shane had discovered the BDSM club and wanted to go. It didn’t take Cali long to figure out she was a masochist, but in no way, shape, or form was she a submissive.
When Shane dropped the bomb on Cali six months earlier that he was selling the business and moving to Miami to be with his new slave, going to work for her father at a car dealership over there, Essie had been Cali’s first call.
Unfortunately, the law had been on Shane’s side. She could have fought to stay there, but he was going to move in a week, and she couldn’t afford to keep the house by herself. Not to mention she didn’t have the money to pay for a lawyer. If she’d fought it, Shane threatened to drag things out until she was absolutely broke. Nothing was in Cali’s name, except her car. Fortunately, it was paid off.
She’d gotten a few things out of the house, including Baxter, who was never Shane’s to start with.
Thanks to Essie, she had the job at the animal shelter. Essie was a volunteer there and knew they had an opening. Cali also picked up extra cash here and there as part of a temp cleaning crew for Essie and her guys. They ran a disaster recovery and cleaning service. They also starred in a cable TV show about hoarders, and had a side business doing hoarder cleanup.
Everyone had offered to help Cali, to pitch in, but that wasn’t Cali’s style. She didn’t like to lean on others. The fact that she’d trusted Shane to her detriment grated at the very core of her being.
No, she’d pull herself up and out of this, somehow. There wasn’t a lot of extra money at the end of every month, but she’d lived lean during college and for a couple of years after, before she’d met Shane.
She damn sure could do it again.
This time, however, when she dug herself out of the hole, she’d make sure she kept a tight grip on the damn shovel.
And use it to smack anyone who tried to dump her back in the hole.
* * * *
She drove to Sigalo’s to meet up with everyone for dinner. Before she’d left, her mom called her from Montana, wanting to know when Cali would just give up, quit being stubborn, and please move home.
Apparently, Ellen had ratted her out that she’d moved. She’d been planning on calling her parents tomorrow, when she felt a little stronger and knew she could have the conversation without crying.
They’d never liked Shane.
Now, she could see why.
When Shane had dropped the bomb on Cali, she’d moved in with Ellen before telling her parents. Back then, they’d done what she knew they would—begged her to come home to Montana.
She didn’t want to. They’d lived out there since she was eight, and she’d never settled into life there. Her dad got a job with an oil company, but even as young as she’d been, she never forgot Florida, its warm, sandy beaches, the gorgeous palm trees.
Her first snowy winter had been a novelty for about three weeks.
Every winter after that, she begged her parents to let her move back to Florida to live with her mom’s parents. They were now both deceased. But when Cali graduated from high school and got a scholarship to attend Ringling in Sarasota, she jumped at the chance to leave Montana behind.
It wasn’t anything personal against the state of Montana, but she was a Florida girl.
The last thing she wanted to do was move back to Montana. She’d do whatever she had to, short of selling her body on the Tamiami Trail, to keep living in Florida.
Essie stood waiting outside the restaurant when Cali arrived.
“Where’s your guys?”
“Inside talking with the others.” Essie hooked an arm through Cali’s. “How you doing?”
“Still unsuccessfully looking for the silver lining on this dark cloud, but otherwise, I’m okay. Thank you for the help. And tonight. Seriously.”
Essie patted her arm. “You’re family. Adopted family. You’re not some clingy helpless user. You’ve had a little bad luck. Frankly my feelings would be hurt if you didn’t ask us for our help or take what we offer. Our friendship has been built on honesty. If I thought you were slacking, I’d be the first to bust your chops over it. You know that.”
“I know. And you’d sic Tilly on me.”
“Damn straight.”
The woman herself stood when they approached the table, pulling Cali in for a hug. “How you doing?”
“I’m okay.” Cali nearly laughed at how Tilly had asked the question almost exactly the way Essie had.
Abbey and John were there, too, along with Tony and Shayla and several other regulars to the Saturday night dinners. The attendees always changed and fluctuated, but their core group basically remained the same over the years, adding more people here and there. A far smaller and more closely-knit group than the larger Suncoast Society munch, they really had become adopted family to each other over the years.
Throughout the ordeal, Cali had found their emotional support invaluable.
Essie had saved Cali a seat next to her, between her and Abbey. As dinner wore on, Cali felt that now-familiar longing well up inside her. Yes, they were her friends. She knew they’d go to the ends of the earth and back for and with her.
But they weren’t a relationship. Not like she’d thought she’d had with Shane. Being cast aside so quickly after eight years together had wrecked her self-esteem no matter how many of her friends assured her it was his problem, not hers.
She still felt…useless. Used.
Broken.
Not good enough.
Shaking herself out of those thoughts, she tried to jump back into the conversation.
&
nbsp; Or to at least pay attention and appear to be actively listening.
“You should see the new paddle Max and Sean have come up with,” Essie said. “It’s some sort of acrylic or something. Really light, but it stings like a motherfucker when it hits because of the way they positioned the holes in it.”
Max and Sean were regulars at the club and the munch, but they didn’t always make the Sigalo’s dinner. Essie and her men were closest to the two BDSM toymakers because they were neighbors.
“When is that one going on the website?” Cali asked.
“Soon. I think they said they were bringing prototypes tonight for people to try out.” Essie grinned. “You could be a demo bottom for it.”
Shane had refused to let Cali bottom to anyone else while they were together despite the fact that he’d made it perfectly clear he didn’t want to meet her masochistic needs. She’d respected that, not realizing he was catting around behind her back on FetLife and looking for a slave.
Now, when she could afford to make it to the club, she would bottom for friends of hers from their closely knit group. Nothing sexual, because right now, despite wanting a relationship, she wasn’t sure she trusted herself not to make another bad choice. While she’d let Shane do orgasm play on her at the club, she hadn’t done that with anyone since him.
Impact and sensation play was one thing. Anything more would have to wait until she felt she had her mental feet back under her again.
Cali liked Max and Sean. The two men were handsome. Watching them scene with each other always left her hot and longing despite Shane’s private snide remarks to her later.