Training Ivy [How The West Was Done 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Karen Mercury Page A

where it plunged beneath the waist of the tight drawers that left almost nothing to the imagination.
    Steamy moisture bloomed between her thighs, and she knew she had made the right choice in returning. She had wanted adventure, and here it was.
    “Well. There were many times in India when I should’ve been with my regiment but was discovered in the arms of a woman. Or somewhere else I shouldn’t have been. I become entirely too distracted by situations of a sensual nature.”
    “I don’t see anything wrong in that,” said Ivy.
    “Oh, you would,” Harley said, almost happily. “If it had gotten you demoted.”
    “Well. There seemed to be some indication that Neil perhaps has the opposite…ah, problem. What was the mention of that special tea he needed?”
    “Oh, yes.” Harley chuckled. Ivy stopped him by dabbing shaving cream on his upper lip. But he’d warmed to his subject. “The prick tea. I’m sure it was a mistake on Chang’s part. Although it was amusing to see Neil’s panic-stricken reaction to being caught ordering prick tea. From what I’ve seen, the head of security doesn’t seem to lack in that department. He’s a plenty lusty fellow and certainly capably endowed. Have you ever seen such a good-looking, virile cove?”
    “Yes,” Ivy breathed. You , she wanted to say but stopped herself. “I mean, being imprisoned, if that’s what he was, wouldn’t seem to give a fellow much of a chance to practice the erotic arts.” It was invigorating, discussing forbidden subjects with such a cultivated, sophisticated man. When she leaned forward one more inch to set down the shaving mug, the bare slope of her upper breasts lightly touched his hot, muscled shoulder. How she wanted to lean down and lick it! The heat would burn her tongue, but the skin shone darkly, as if exposed to sun rays, so it would feel buttery. She couldn’t allow herself to imagine Harley working out of doors, shirtless, striding about in his confident way.
    “Oh, you’d be surprised. And impressed.”
    She had just picked up the straight razor and was testing it with her thumb for sharpness when Harley’s meaning sunk in. Ouch . That razor was plenty sharp. “Do you mean…” She hardly trusted herself to hold the razor to his muscular throat, she was trembling with such anticipation. Anticipation of the naughty, obscene subjects they were flirtatiously skirting around. The scent of sandalwood wafted from his vibrant torso. She had never stood so close to such a virile, potent man, and odd, new sensations wracked her body.
    Harley’s eyes flashed with illicit intent. “Yes. I do mean. There is nothing wrong in consorting with members of the same sex. Illicita libido has been enjoyed from Rome to Egypt. Priestly castes were centers of sodomy from Mesopotamia to Mexico.”
    Ivy held her breath as she shaved his throat. Images of the robust, manly Neil merely kissing another man were so forbidden yet arousing, a drip of juice slithered down her inner thigh. Was Harley just inventing these scenarios to stimulate her? If so, it was working. Very well indeed. She tried to scoff so as not to let on how strongly his stories affected her. “I cannot picture a hale man like Neil consorting with other men.”
    Harley shrugged when she rinsed the steel blade in the basin. “I am rarely ever wrong about these things. Being imprisoned with no outlet for one’s sexual urges creates odd bedfellows.”
    Gritting her teeth with determination, Ivy returned the blade to the side of his face. “You know so much about it. Have you engaged in such perverted activities?”
    True, he could not very well answer, not with a blade scraping the skin an inch from his mouth. Ivy felt triumphant. Perhaps she had silenced him. But in order to still his face to shave it, she had to cradle his smooth chin in her free hand. His heated, damp neck steamed against her bosom, and she wanted nothing more than to place her open mouth atop his. His cock