Lust, Lies and Tinsel Ties

A Red Garters, Snow and Mistletoe Tale

By Mia Jae

Resplendence Publishing, LLC

http://www.resplendencepublishing.com

Resplendence Publishing, LLC

P.O. Box 992

Edgewater, Florida, 32132

Lust, Lies and Tinsel Ties

Copyright © 2009, Mia Jae

Edited by Wendy Williams

Cover art by Rika Singh

Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-069-9

Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringements, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Electronic release: September 2009

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Eight

Epilogue

About the Author

Chapter One

The black thong was a perfect fit, if she did say so herself. It cupped her nicely in front, making a perfect vee at her crotch. The tiny straps hugged her hipbone.

Bree Noël Conner smoothed her hands over her hips and tucked the tips of her fingers under the thin string. She’d invested in an airbrushed tan for the occasion and was glad of it. Her skin was bronze and silky, even though it was Christmas Eve. Pasty white and dry wasn’t for her, though her complexion was naturally milky. Since moving to Albuquerque, she tried her best to stay sun-kissed and healthy-looking, like everyone else. Besides, she had a skimpy dress to wear tonight and she’d be damned if she was wearing pantyhose.

Even in the middle of winter.

Turning, she glanced over her shoulder in the mirror and smiled. “Nice ass, if I do say so myself.” She adjusted the thong and then ran her palms over her backside too.

Wearing only the scrap of fabric, she padded across her bedroom and sat on the bench at the foot of her bed. Warming her favorite cocoa butter lotion in her hands, she skimmed her hands over her legs, lifting first one, then the other, into the air.

“Nice and moist,” she whispered. “Perfect.”

One at a time, she slipped a foot into a black patent leather boot, complete with five-inch tall, white faux-fur tops and three-inch heels, then laced each boot up her shin, from the top of her foot all the way to the fur at her knees.

Standing, she moved to the mirror again and admired the high-heeled boots, again turning this way and that to get the full effect.

“Nice,” she whispered. “Yes.” These will do just fine.

Lifting her gaze to her bare chest, she perused each of her girls. Firm, full, and bronzed as well, she noted her erect, upturned nipples.

She liked breasts. On her and on other women. Not that she went around feeling up other women’s breasts—it wasn’t her gig—she secretly admired other women’s from afar. To her own way of thinking, hers were topnotch.

Her last boyfriend thought so, too.

Until she’d screwed up. Again.

Sighing, she was actually glad he was out of her life, and relieved she didn’t have a man to answer to right now. Picking up her black strapless bra from the dresser, she clasped it around her waist. Twisting it upward, she shimmied the girls into place. It was a cup size too small.

Damn.

A lazy smiled curled over her lips. She liked the look of her breasts spilling out over the rim of the cups.

Her cell rang; she glanced down at the number, picked it up. “Hey, Ging.”

Her best friend’s high-pitched voice pinged through from the other side.

Bree grimaced. “I hear you! Yes. I know it’s snowing. What?”

Ginger explained once more, “We need to leave now. We’ll never get up the mountain if we wait an hour.”

Shit. That came through loud and clear. The party was in a home up in the East Mountain area of the Sandias. They’d had light snow off and on all day. She hadn’t realized that it was getting worse.

Teach her to dally in the tub.

But tonight, she had to look nice. She was hoping to come away from this evening with a purse full of pocket change, all for a good cause, of course.

“All right! I’ll be downstairs in ten.”

She ended the call and tossed the phone on the bed. Her Santa dress hung in the doorway. She grasped the thing—if you could call it a dress, even—and gave it a quick perusal. Pulling it over her head, she wriggled into it. Skin tight, it cinched at her waist and flared out over her hips. She struggled with the zipper at the side, finally managing to pull it all the way up.

“Belt.”

Locating the black patent leather belt, she circled her waist and pulled it tight, buckling it snug at her center. Again, she gave herself a once-over in the mirror. The dress barely skimmed her ass. The red velveteen, trimmed in faux fur along the hem, tickled her cheeks. Fur cradled her breasts, as well.

“Nice.”

A horn sounded outside.

“Crap.”

She clutched at her makeup bag, the elbow-length red satin gloves, and her Santa hat, then tripped down the stairs of her townhouse toward the front door.

* * * *

The roads in the city weren’t too bad. Once they left the highway, however, the mountain two-lane was somewhat messy. Bree stared through the swiping blades pushing the dry snow pellets off the windshield. “God, I hope this isn’t a mistake.”

“Quit worrying.”

Bree turned to Ginger, who was leaning forward in her seat, staring out the window.

“This is going to be fine,” Ginger said. “The party is over at one and hopefully by the end of the evening, our names will be a little more prominent in higher circles.”

“I’m worried about the snow.”

“Oh hell.” She patted the dash of her Jeep. “Ol’ Ginny here will get us back home again just fine. That’s why I like a four-wheel drive. Doesn’t keep me from getting where I need to go. Besides, it’s a dry snow. Not thick and wet like back home.”

Bree didn’t know about that. Back home in Ohio, when it snowed like this it generally wasn’t a big problem. But in Ohio, they had the proper snow removal equipment and had the systems all worked out. Here, big snows rarely came. And even though the weathermen weren’t predicting a huge mess, Bree was antsy. Her father was a farmer, after all, and she’d learned to watch the sky and respect the weather.

She didn’t like how the sky looked to the north and west.

Again, she looked to Ginger, taking in her party attire. She wore as skimpy an outfit as Bree, the color was tan with white trimming her cuffs and collar; the neckline low cut. Red hearts were centered up the bodice and a red petticoat peeked out from beneath the short skirt. A teeny white apron completed the look. The outfit was topped off with red sparkling Mary Jane’s and red and white candy cane striped knee socks.

“So what the hell are you supposed to be?” she asked.

“What? You can’t tell?”

She shook her head. “Not sure.”

“I’m the Gingerbread girl!” She pointed to her apron, covering her crotch. “See? There is my cookie.”

“Ah.” She did indeed see Ginger’s cookie. “I get it. Ginger the Gingerbread girl. Hell, I hope we don’t get stopped on this road due to the weather. We look like hookers.”

“We are so not hookers.”

“But we sure look like it.”

Ginger edged a glance her way. “Bree, we’re businesswomen who are volunteering their time tonight for a good cause. Not to mention that it will be a good promo op for our business. That’s all. We’re not hookers.”

“We look like hookers.”

“Give it a rest.”

Bree wondered how she’d gotten talked into this. She watched the snow out her window and replied, “I’m wearing a dress that barely covers my ass with nothing but a thong underneath. If I don’t look like I’m out for sex, then I don’t know what…”

“So what’s new? You’re always out for sex.”

Whipping her head around to look at Ginger, she spat back, “And you are Miss Goody Two-Shoes?”

Ginger braked and stopped the car dead in the road. Probably not a good move, given the mush and the ever climbing incline, because the Jeep shimmied a little to the right. “Hell, Bree, what is up with you? So we both like sex. So what? Has nothing to do with what we are doing tonight. Tonight, we are cocktail waitresses at an artsy-fartsy benefit party. Volunteers. Nothing more, nothing less. And we’re out for tips, nothing more, nothing less. The proceeds all go to the homeless shelter that we, Conner & Baker Realty, are helping to sponsor. It’s a good thing, Bree. For the homeless. For us. So, if you flip your skirt accidentally and show a little cheek, all the better.”

Ginger was right. The real estate business they co-owned needed a boost. They were doing okay, but lately, they were just making ends meet. Volunteering for this charity event would make them more prominent in the community, since neither of them was from here.

Besides, she’d never been against showing a little ass cheek.

“I hope like hell no one we know is there.” Bree adjusted her bra at her cleavage, and felt a lurch forward as Ginger put her foot on the accelerator. Going nude on the beach at Daytona during Spring Break was one thing. “I mean, how embarrassing? What if we truly ran into a client? It could be the kiss of death…” Baring it to a colleague was quite another.

“Give it a rest, Bree. We need to run into our clients and colleagues. They need to see us giving back to the community we live in.”

“They don’t need to see the cheeks of my ass.”

“Oh hell! When did you become Ms. Prude! It’s a flamboyant, funky, charity party with all the artsy community attending so they will get their pictures in the paper. No one will care if you are showing your ass!”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because, I just know these things.”

Not comforting. Ginger’s sixth sense about “things” was what led them out to the Southwest in the first place. And so far, that hadn’t panned out too well.

Ginger maneuvered a curve and slowed. “Oh. My. God.”

Even through the slanting snow, they faced a spectacular view of the land stretching between the east side of the Sandias and toward Santa Fe. A little to their right, sat a very large stucco house, artfully placed into the mountain landscape and facing that same view. There were a couple of cars in the drive, as they were early.

The volunteers were to arrive at seven. The party was due to begin at eight. Bree figured it wouldn’t really get started until about ten.

“This is the house,” Ginger said.

“Damn.”

“Money.”

“Yep.”

Then Ginger pointed. “And look. There.”

A SOLD sign was perched rather cockeyed at the end of the drive. “Dammit,” Ginger hissed. “We sure could have used a sale like that.”

Bree frowned. “Way things have been going lately, I’d settle for the sale of that casita off Rio Grande.”

* * * *

Jake Baldwin peered out the window. Even though it was now dark, the lights from the house reflected off the white, snow-covered hills and valleys below. He sat at the back of the house, away from the party, a bit disgruntled and lost in thought, as usual. His life, for the most part, was all he’d wanted it to be. Successful career, huge home—this new home—in the mountains, a satisfying social life with an eclectic bevy of friends, and…

“Jake?”

Carson.

He stood and turned toward the voice of his lover. The opening of the door threw a triangle of light into the dark room. Carson strode slowly inside, stooping slightly to twist the switch on a lamp, low lighting the room.

Yes, and he had Carson.

And for a long time, that had been enough.

“What are you doing back here?” he asked. “The party is in full swing.”

“I know.”

“Guests are asking for you.”

“I’ll be there in time for the auction.”

“Good. I have my eye on an item for you,” he went on. “I may have bid too high.”

He wished he wouldn’t do that. “Please, don’t go overboard.”

Carson eyed him. “I know my limits. And you are still in a funk.”

Nodding, he cast his gaze away. “I’m sorry. I know I promised to snap out of it for the party, but it’s not working.”

They both stood for a moment staring at the floor.

The silence between them was telling. There had been too much of it between them the past few months. Talking didn’t seem to be on their common agenda.

He felt the warmth of Carson’s palm on his bicep. “Look at me, Jake,” he said softly, lifting his chin with the forefinger of the other hand.

Jake hooked his gaze into Carson’s and exhaled. “I appreciate your patience with me. I’m just…”

“Sh...” Carson drew closer. “Stop talking and listen to me. We’ll get through this. I am a patient man. But you need to decide, Jake, what you want, sooner or later.”

He knew that.

Carson was patient when they bought the house together. Jake had pushed it, wanting to be high in the Sandias. Carson would have preferred the city. He thought buying the house would settle him somewhat. Ground him into their life together. Help him forget…

It hadn’t.

Carson didn’t want to know what was wrong. Had said he didn’t need to know the truth. But he knew that it was serious and that Jake had screwed up. He’d even said he had forgiven him, even though he didn’t know what for.

Why couldn’t he forgive himself?

And why couldn’t he just fess up and tell Carson that he’d fucked up?

No. Instead, he’d lied. Told him the moodiness was due to depression. In reality that probably wasn’t far from being true. His brain was screwed on crooked, and he couldn’t make sense of what was, and wasn’t, the right thing to do anymore.

He wanted to be fair. Wanted it like hell. And he didn’t want to ask anything of Carson that was outside of his comfort zone. But things changed.

And he knew exactly when.

Since then, nothing sat well. Nothing satisfied.

Decide what I want. Sooner or later.

Thing was, the decision wasn’t totally up to him, was it?

“That’s the thing, Carson,” he whispered, “I know what I want. I’m just not sure you will agree.”

Waiting, he stared into the blue of his lover’s eyes. Slowly, his partner leaned into him, clutched his bicep a little tighter, and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

“Leave it to me.” Carson’s soft breath tickled his cheek. “I will make this work.”

Jake wasn’t sure that he could.

Chapter Two

Glancing at the clock over the bartender’s head, Bree sighed and tried not to hobble in her black stiletto patent leather boots. It was damned difficult, though, and she leaned into the bar in an attempt to take the pressure off the balls of her feet. She sat her empty tray down on the counter. “I need a Vodka Collins, a Mojito with light ice, straight bourbon, and something fruity. She doesn’t care what it is as long as it has pineapple.”

The bartender—his name was Ted, she thought—snickered and started on the drinks. Turning her back to him, she glanced out over the party crowd. Her earlier thoughts that the party wouldn’t heat up until ten o’clock were on track. Even though the crowd was smaller than anticipated, and rather sophisticated and artsy, they knew how to throw down a good time.

She was ready to go home.

“How you doing?” Ginger tap-danced her way up to the bar. “Isn’t this exciting?” She smiled broadly, tossing her amber locks over her shoulder. Sidling closer, she lowered her voice and said, “How are the tips? I think I’ve tucked minimum of five hundred in my bra. Hell, we are going to have a pile of money to give to the shelter.”

Bree glanced to Ginger’s chest. “You look lopsided. Your right tit is lumpy.”

Slapping her tray on the bar, she did a quick adjustment. “Look at this place, Bree. My God! I wish we could land a sale like this. They just bought it, I heard. I’m thinking close to a mil. What do you think?”

Bree broke her gaze from Ginger and perused the room. A harmony of party sounds swirled around them—a classy jazz tune laid a nice bass level to the cacophony; people talking and bursts of laughter balanced the treble. The people were a trip. Dressed in all kinds of couture, from vintage eclectic, to Goth Christmas, to diamonds and black tie, there was an air of sophisticated funk about the room.

But Bree was only in tune with the home. Floor to ceiling windows faced the view of the mountains and the twinkling valley lights below. The great room was large; the bar she stood at was a permanent fixture. Solid oak. Wood beams crisscrossed the ceiling; others stood as pillars throughout the room, lending a rustic, Southwest feel. The interior walls were stucco; the floors terra cotta tile. The kitchen behind her was magnificent—she’d stuck her head in there earlier in the evening—complete with state-of-the art stainless everything.

“It’s all custom. Fixtures. Woodwork. Don’t you love those built-ins over there? And what about that stained glass sky light. Look at that fireplace, Bree. Looks like red rock stone. Fabulous. Four bedrooms and baths. A spa downstairs. Indoor pool. A guest casita outside….

“One mil, eight hundred thousand.” Bree uttered her prediction while Ginger continued to spout the home’s assets.

“Actually, we got it for a steal at one-point-two.”

Both women turned. Bree gasped at the sight of the man standing immediately behind them, leaning into the bar. The color of his sparkling eyes rivaled the most clear blue turquoise she’d ever seen. His chiseled features forced her to catch a breath. It was difficult to immediately discern whether he was Anglo or Native…probably bi-racial. His complexion was much darker than hers; his semi-short, light brown hair, deliciously unkempt.

What a beautiful man.

And there was something slightly familiar about him.

Looking anywhere but straight into his face, Bree acted nonchalant. “You’re right. That price was a steal.”

“We know.”

The man pushed away from the bar and held out a hand to Bree. “Carson Graham. And you are?”

“The hired help.”

Ginger poked her elbow in her side, and Bree jumped. She took Carson’s hand and shook it. “I’m Bree, and she’s Ginger.”

Carson snickered. “Bree?”

“Yeah. Like the cheese.”

The right corner of his mouth stayed in smile-mode.

“And she’s Ginger, like the cookie.”

Carson laughed out loud.

The bartender set the last of her drinks on her tray. Squeezing between Carson and Ginger, she smiled back and said, “And I have drinks to deliver. Nice to meet you.”

Her fumbling fingers grasped the tray and in that second, she realized she was trembling. Not since she’d broken up with Sam a couple of months ago, had she realized how much she missed being close to a man.

She loved men.

Men.

Plural.

And that was the trouble. The men she dated always seemed to want some sort of commitment. It was difficult for her to settle. And sooner or later, bored and unsatisfied, she strayed…

Carson stopped her with a hand to her forearm. She rested the tray against the bar and once more, peered into his eyes. “Have we met?” he queried.

Confused, unsure why he seemed so familiar, she shook her head. “Um, earlier tonight? No.”

Cocking his head to one side, he narrowed his gaze and studied her. “No. Prior to tonight. I never forget a face.” He wriggled his fingers, as if he was itching to touch her. “Or a profile.” Then he did just that, touched her. Reaching out, he grazed a soft, fingertip stroke across her cheekbone and then traced the outline of her jaw, as if he were rendering a line drawing of her face. An unexpected shiver crannied through her and sped toward her center. His touch had instantly aroused her and it came from out of nowhere. “I’m an artist,” he continued, “and I never forget a contour…”

Bree huffed out a quick breath, trying to quell the short pants that wanted to escape her mouth. “I’m not sure, Carson. I—”

Someone bumped into her from behind, pushing her closer into him. He steadied her against his chest—which did absolutely nothing to quell her arousal, but served to completely stimulate it. She inhaled, deep, and took in the sharp spice of his aftershave, and nearly melted.

Her face was in his neck. “I should deliver those drinks,” she whispered.

Steadying her in front of him, Carson stared deep into her eyes, then lifted the tray and put it in her hands. “Go deliver your drinks, Ms. Santa. I’m not going anywhere.”

She hesitated, and did a slow turn, as Carson’s hands dropped to her hips and his fingertips grazed the hem of her skirt.

And the cheeks of her ass.

The action sent her sex into a decadent pucker of desire.

* * * *

It was another hour before things slowed down enough to where Bree could catch her breath and a couple of sideways glances at Carson. Each time their eyes met, a little thrill raced through her. It was approaching midnight, the appointed time of the charity auction, and the remaining crowd of about forty people were either settling into sofas and overstuffed chairs, drinks in hand, or milling about aimlessly chatting with one another.

Carson Graham, at the moment, was no where to be found.

She snickered to herself. Graham. Like the cracker.

“What’s so funny?”

Ted the bartender busied himself cleaning up behind the bar. “Just thought of something,” she told him. “No big deal. Hey, you need some help?”

“Yeah.” He was loading some dirty glasses into a plastic carrier. “Mind taking some of these back to the kitchen? I need to start a dishwasher load. Somehow I became bartender and chief bottle washer once the weather turned nasty.”

“Sure.” Bree joined him behind the bar. Much of the hired help had been dismissed an hour or so earlier. She and Ginger had decided to stay on, confident ‘ol Ginny would get them back down the mountain.

Ginger moved in, slid an arm around Ted’s waist, smiled, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Bree raised a brow. Obviously, there was another reason Ginger wanted to stick around.

“What time do you think we can get out of here,” she asked, adding glasses to Bree’s plastic bin. “I am so ready to go.” She kicked off a red Mary Jane and reached down to rub a foot. “What about you, Bree?”

At the moment, Bree was conflicted about leaving sooner rather than later. She scanned the room again. No Carson. She shrugged. “I’m with you, Ginger. I leave when you leave.”

“Ted needs a ride,” Ginger returned.

“Okay by me.” She hefted the bin of glasses, wondering just what kind of ride Ted would get later tonight. She watched as he palmed Ginger’s butt through her dress. “I’ll get these started.” Behind her, she heard a tinkling of glasses and a female voice raise over the crowd, attempting to gain attention. She continued on into the kitchen.

With an oomph, she hoisted the container onto the counter and bent to open the dishwasher. Good. Clean dishes. One by one she emptied the glasses and small plates and stacked them on the counter. Every once in a while she stretched to work the kinks out of her back.

Oh boy, was she ever tired.

* * * *

Had he been on his game tonight, Jake would have been out in the great room, peering up at Grace Walker, the chair of the committee raising money for the homeless shelter downtown off Central, smiling and clapping his hands as she announced the merits of each item up for auction.

Of course, he wasn’t on his game, and he didn’t give a rat’s ass what useless trinkets were up for grabs tonight. The whole notion was silly, anyway. Each of those items was already sold to their owners, the bidding having taken place prior to the party. It was all show, and he wondered why they were even going through the motions since the press didn’t show up for the party, anyway, due to the weather.

At best, he felt disconnected to the entire ordeal, but his body sure as hell jerked to attention as soon as he stepped through the back entrance to the kitchen.

His heart pounded in his throat. Thank God there was no one else in the room with whom he had to speak. He wasn’t sure he could. All he could do, however, was stand and stare.

The obvious item that caught his attention was the skimpy red Santa dress trimmed in white fur—and the woman wearing it. The boots, why yes, those were quite the thing, as well. Sleek and sexy and screaming “come fuck me” at the top of their lungs. The long mane of almost jet black hair that swung over her shoulder was the piece of the picture that made his chest clutch in addled surprise. The bronzed and dewy skin of her long legs made him think of only one thing—a perfect passage to the nectar of the gods. Her thighs gave way to a luscious round derrière that peeked out from beneath that fur-lined skirt each time she bent to pull out a dish or put one in.

His gut quivered.

She stood and he got the full profile effect.

“No.” The word whooshed out on a breath before he could drag it back.

Bree sensed, more than heard, the one word exclamation of angst that filled the room around her. Slowly, she rotated to her rear, and immediately caught site of the man standing behind her.

Her entire being trilled at the sight of him, and suddenly it all came back in a whoosh…

* * * *

She tapped her pencil on her desk top, keeping rhythm with the nervous kick of her leg beneath it. Leaning toward the two men, she feigned attention on both but was totally fixated on the tall, dark-headed man who sat to her left. And he, it appeared, was giving off come-hither vibes like nobody’s business.

“So you’re looking for something in the mountains?”

“I’d actually prefer downtown,” the sandy-haired one remarked. Drawing her gaze away, she focused on this man for a moment. “A condo would be best,” he offered. “Small and efficient. Perhaps an outside deck area but nothing elaborate. Good lighting, natural, at least in one room, for my studio.”

“What do you consider small?” she asked.

“Thirty-five hundred square feet, or about.”

Handsome, sexy, and rich. Nice combo. And there were two of them.

The way-too-viral man to his left cleared his throat and leaned closer. “That’s his preference. Not necessarily mine. If you’re asking for our wish lists, yes, I do prefer the mountains. The east side, of course, looking down over the Turquoise Trail. Something sprawling and authentic that reeks of the Southwest. A great view. A pool would be nice. Guest quarters for when the families come to visit, should they visit, and so on.”

Bree swallowed and kept tapping her pencil against the Plexiglas desk top. She glanced from one man to another. The dark-headed one—what was his name? Oh yes. Jake. Jake Baldwin—appeared engrossed with her. She licked her lips and found it difficult to sit still in her seat. “So in other words the two of you are at an impasse.”

“No,” Jake scooted even closer and laid a hand over her tapping pencil and fingers. Her knee stopped jerking. “Where we are at, is that you will find something that comprises both our needs.” He grinned, and Bree felt an electric current spark from his eyes and make a beeline straight for her pussy. Dammit. These two men were a couple, and she was getting so turned on by that. What the hell?

But his eyes…the lightest shade of blue, and the contrast of his inky black hair. The combination was spell-binding and, shit, yes, she was captivated.

He continued, “We need for you to be our common ground, Ms. Conner. The bridge between us, so to speak. We trust you.”

Between them. She glanced from one highly potent male specimen to another. They both oozed sexuality and pure, unadulterated maleness. They were a couple. Gay, she supposed, or bi-sexual?

Why was she feeling like this?

Not to mention that the heat from his palm, still tented over hers, felt erotic as hell, and somehow protective at the same time. She glanced down. Was his thumb caressing hers?

“I see I have my work cut out for me.”

He cast a sly smile her way. “That, you do.” Then breaking away, he stood. “May I borrow your restroom?”

“Of course.” She stood as well. “Down the hall and to the left.”

He nodded and headed that way.

Ginger swept in at that moment. “I found those listings,” she began, sitting beside the sandy-haired client. “Let’s see how you like some of these.”

Carson nodded and reached for the files.

Bree glanced down the hall.

No. She shouldn’t.

“Excuse me.”

Her heels clicked down the ceramic tile hallway. Loud. Her small, private office sat across the hall from the single bathroom. Pausing in the doorway, her hands resting on the casing, she cast a sideways glance. The fine hairs at her neck stood erect.

She swiveled on the ball of her foot.

He stood framed in the opposite doorway, a question on his face that must have rivaled the one on her own. Her heart banged against her chest as she stepped across the hallway.

He pulled her inside with one swift motion. The door clicked shut behind them. He locked it and crowded her up against it.

She moaned as he covered her mouth with his firm, wet lips and kissed her. Hard.

His hands wandered, bunching up the hem of her dress; the heat of his fingers scorched her inner thigh as they inched toward her center.

Breaking away with a gasp, she took his face into her hands and searched his face. In the next instant, she lunged forward and plunged her tongue into his mouth. Passion raced through her, and every nerve-ending in her body felt alive with anticipation—and desire—as they sloppily and hungrily tasted each other.

He pushed her skirt up around her waist and curled a finger around her thong, jerking downward. She tugged his shirt out of his trousers.

“Hurry,” she whispered.

“Yes.” The single word came from deep in his throat and echoed her urgency.

“Fuck me.”

“Yes.”

Her hands worked over his fly and boxers as she unveiled his glorious cock. She gasped and took it in her palm, curling her fingers around his velvet smoothness, thumbing over his throbbing maleness. “Oh, my god…” He was, indeed, scrumptious. Long and thick, with a massive head that promised pleasure.

He turned her against the door in one rough, insistent move, then raised her hands over her head. One of his large hands held her wrists tight while the other slid down her back, over her ass, and slipped between her thighs.

Slowly, he dragged a finger into her slit and backwards up between her ass cheeks. Then again. Shivering at his touch, she squirmed against his hand. “More,” she whimpered.

“Goddamn you are hot and wet. Spread for me.”

She arched her back and pushed her ass toward him. His fingers plunged into her. She pushed her shoulders into the door for leverage and groaned.

Heightened passion gripped her as he stroked.

“Fuck me,” she begged. “Hurry.” They’d already been gone several minutes. Would anyone notice? In her mind’s eye, she could see him large and engorged behind her, waiting to plunge himself…

He did as she asked.

The length of his silky cock sank into her; she exhaled in exquisite pleasure. He covered her body with his and pushed slowly in and out, both his hands now above her head, laying flat over her arms and hands, holding her there. She was trapped between the door and the hard plane of his body, impaled by his firm flesh and one helluva decadent cock.

She lost all sense of time and place.

Jake groaned and repeatedly pumped into her, over and over again.

“Oh god, don’t stop,” she whispered.

“I could fuck your ass forever,” he breathed.

“Do it.”

His lips were at her ear, his breath moist and warm. “Your pussy is as good as I thought…knew…”

Moaning, and clasping his fingers tightly over hers, he increased his thrusts until she silently panted her own explosive release, mingling her fingers with his grip, and pancaking the side of her face against the door. With a stifled shout, and an overall trembling of his body, he held on to her and lowered his mouth to her shoulder and bit…while he spilled his own release.

Their breathing settled into slow unison. They stayed together against the door for only a moment. Jake pulled out and turned her to face him. Still breathing heavily, she searched his face. Never had she been taken quite so unexpectedly, or spontaneously, by a man who intrigued her as much. His exotic looks and sensuality were her undoing. And at that moment, she wasn’t quite sure what to do with any of the thoughts and feelings racing through her head and heart.

He traced a forefinger over her cheekbone and peered deep into her eyes.

“I’ve not been with a woman in years,” he offered. “You… Dammit. You…”

Then he broke away, shaking his head. She watched as he tucked that marvelous cock of his inside his pants and straightened the rest of his clothing. Finally, rubbing his hands over his face, he lifted his gaze to look at her again. “I’m sorry. I should have had more control.”

She shook her head, ready to say something—to say, No, it was me. I should have had more control. You are so damned irresistible—but he grasped her by the forearms and scooted her out of the way, and left.

* * * *

Six months flew through Bree’s psyche with a flash of memory. All of a sudden, she knew why Carson had looked so familiar. She’d not paid him much attention that day, her world totally filled with the man standing before her now. Jake Baldwin. Ginger hadn’t questioned later that day when she said they couldn’t take the two men on as clients. They had an unspoken rule that when one of them said no, the other listened. It was professional suicide, she knew, but it couldn’t happen.

But Jake and Carson had not called back, making it easy.

Now, here they stood, facing each other again.

“So you got your way, huh?” She hooked into his gaze and held.

Shaking himself, Jake took a tentative step forward. “The house, you mean.”

“Yes.”

“We compromised. Sort of.”

“It’s a lovely place.”

The connection between them was magnetic, and she felt drawn to him like she was the back end of a rubber band. It didn’t help that he was slowly walking toward her, increasing the tension.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

Bree glanced over her shoulder. “Oh. The benefit. Volunteering. The company…”

He nodded. “I see.” Then, staring off to the side, added, “I couldn’t call back.”

“I was glad you didn’t.”

He jerked back to look at her. “It was…complicated.”

Nodding, she agreed. “Yes.”

“Bree…”

She closed her eyes at the sound of her name rolling off his tongue. With him out of sight, the distance between them was even more palpable. Her chest quavered with pins and needles, every nerve ending on edge. And then…

He touched her. Gently. Taking her hand in his.

“I have never been so fascinated by a woman…” he whispered. “And I’ve not been able to get you out of…”

Noise from the living area interrupted their encounter, and Ginger and Ted burst into the kitchen on its heels. They broke away from each other. Jake sidestepped her and moved toward the entrance to the great room. Turning, Bree watched him disappear into the room; then she exhaled, long and hard.

“Goddamn…”

Chapter Three

“Get this auction over and get these people the hell out of here.”

Jake made a bee-line to Carson and hissed out the words in his ear. Turning, his partner studied his face, narrowed his gaze, and dipped his head in agreement. Jake hadn’t intended for the words to come out in such a blunt, angry manner, but they had.

“My, what a cheery character you are this Christmas Eve,” Carson replied. “You better be careful, Santa may leave you nothing but stones in your stocking.” He backed away, swept a hand in front of him and added with sarcasm, “Your wish is my command, sir.”

Jake’s stomach turned. He was an ass and knew it. Taking a half step forward, he reached out for Carson, who turned abruptly and stalked off.

“Shit.” The curse slipped between his teeth.

He watched as Carson threaded through the crowd and toward the front of the room where Grace Walker was holding court with what was left of the partiers. He whispered in her ear, then took the center stage himself while Grace stepped to the side.

“Jake and I certainly want to thank each and every one of you for coming this evening, particularly with this unexpected weather,” he began. “Who would have thought? Snow on Christmas Eve in Albuquerque?”

The crowd chuckled, and he continued. “But the evening is long, and I just heard that law enforcement is recommending people get home and stay off the roads. We want you to use your own judgment. Know that we have guest accommodations here for anyone who would rather not travel home this evening. But for those of you who are eager to leave, we have one more item up for auction.”

He paused and scanned the room. Jake’s gut tightened.

“You may have noticed our lovely cocktail waitresses this evening.” He pointed toward the bar at the back of the room; Jake followed his direction and bristled. Bree and her business partner—Ginger? He hadn’t really focused much on her—they were busying themselves behind it cleaning up. Both of their heads lifted, and they nodded as the crowd turned their way. Ginger smiled broadly. Bree gave a slight smile and glanced off. “In case you didn’t know,” Carson went on, “these generous ladies are the owners of Conner & Baker Realty. They volunteered their time this evening. All of the tips they earned,” he glanced back over the crowd, “from all of you generous people, will be donated to the homeless shelter. Let’s hear it for our sexy servers!”

The crowd clapped madly.

“Come up here! Come!” Carson waved toward the women.

Jake wondered what in hell Carson was up to.

The last thing Bree wanted at the moment was to parade herself in front of all the party-goers and Jake Baldwin and Carson Graham. Could people tell how distracted and turned on she was by him? Them? Shit, yes, there was Carson too, with whom she’d been making eyes all evening…and who had slipped his finger up her dress earlier, taunting her.

Talk about libido confusion. Seemed like they all had it. At the moment, she didn’t trust her sexual psyche.

But here she was, being pushed from behind the bar to the center of attention by a giggling Ginger. “Move it, honey. This is the part we’ve been waiting for.”

Bree stopped and grasped Ginger’s arm. “What are you talking about?”

“No time now.”

“Yes. Time. Now.”

“The crowd is watching.”

“I don’t give a flying fucking leap! Tell me what is going on.”

Ginger huffed, her eyes darting back and forth. Leaning closer, she whispered, “Just shut up and follow my lead. It’s for the shelter. We’re getting auctioned.”

“We?” Panic seized her chest. “Auctioned?”

“Yes.”

“The company, right?”

“No. You. Me.”

“Fuck.”

“That’s not part of the deal. Not unless you want it to be.” She grinned slyly. “Seriously, we just donate twenty-four hours of our time to whoever buys us. I’m sure it will be shelter-related, or something like that.”

“Dammit, Ginger! You knew this ahead of time?”

“Yes. Now, shut up and smile. You’re on first.”

Ginger Baker, I will make you freakin’ pay! If the truth be known, Bree was glad for the anger that raced over her at that moment. It replaced the confused sexual crap that was rolling around in her head seconds earlier.

The crowd cheered and clapped wildly again, and suddenly Bree found herself being catapulted forward into the throng, and before she knew it, was standing on an ottoman and Grace Walker was saying…

“May I have five thousand, please?”

As they used to say back home in Southern Ohio, What. The. Hell?

Five thousand!

“I’ll give you seven.” Bree’s head whipped to a voice in the corner. She couldn’t see from where it came.

“Eight.” She jerked to the left. A woman’s voice. Crap.

“Ten thousand.” Back to the right. Carson.

Carson?

He grinned at her. Her chest heaved. Oh, fuck…

“Twelve,” came the voice from the shadows again.

Sonofabitch!

Grace Walker twittered in delight beside her. Bree scowled and clenched her fists. What in the world was she going to have to do to earn this much money?

“Fifteen thousand.” Carson put in.

“Twenty.” The woman again.

“Twenty-five,” came from the corner.

The crowd jittered, individual heads rotating back and forth, straining to see the man in the shadows who was topping every bid made. After a moment, they all turned their attention back to Carson.

As did Bree. Her guts trembled.

Carson grinned. “Thirty thousand,” he said coolly and winked.

The room fell silent. Waiting. Anticipating the countering voice from the back of the room, or from the left. But one never came.

Her chest was tight from holding her breath for too long.

Grace Walker stepped between Carson and Bree, and it seemed the entire room exhaled. As did Bree. Finally. “Thirty thousand dollars! Oh, my! Going once. Twice. Sold!”

The dizzying thought Bree had at that moment, was that her roughly seven hundred dollars in tips seemed mighty paltry. Why in the hell had she spent all night on her feet—in these heels!—to bring in tips if this was going to happen?

I’m killing Ginger…

Grace hugged Bree who stood stiff and unmoving, eyeing Carson, who appeared quite pleased with himself. He stepped up and shook Grace’s hand, then reached for Bree’s elbow. “Come with me,” he whispered.

The crowed oohed and clapped. Bree tried to shut them out.

Behind her, she heard Grace begin the bidding on Ginger. She hoped Ted had deep pockets, if he expected to get any tonight.

Her hand felt small and warm in Carson’s as he led her out of the room and into a low-lit hallway. Immediately, she felt flushed. They walked in silence for a few seconds, the only sound was Bree’s boot heels making a soft click on the tile floor.

“Where are you taking me,” she finally said. Her tummy was filled with a thousand butterflies. What was in store for her?

“Just down here. So we can talk.”

They passed a fully decorated Christmas tree, a few artsy structures, and some pottery on their way to…wherever. She supposed they needed to iron out the deals of her twenty-four hour servitude. “Okay, so what is it you have in mind for me, boss man?”

He didn’t answer. They turned a corner and faced massive, carved, double oak doors. They swung open with ease as he turned the knobs and led her into the room.

Bedroom. A very large bedroom.

A very large and masculine chamber of love was more like it.

She stopped short. “Um, Carson. I don’t think this is what the shelter people had in mind when they thought of this slave auction thing…” Although she had to admit, glancing about, that the room intrigued her.

“No worries, love,” he said, “We’re just in a holding pattern here for a moment, so to speak.”

He led her further into the room.

A huge oak bed, which echoed the carved design of the doors, sat regally in the center of the room. Four oversized posters anchored the piece of furniture, set up on a two foot tall bed frame, also made of solid oak. The headboard was the crowning jewel, with ornate carved gargoyles, animals, and nude figures, cutting deep grooves into the wood.

A red fur bedspread with gaudy six-inch gold fringe was draped over the mattress. Low lights were scattered about the room lending shadows and a golden glow. Candles flickered in the off places where the lamp light didn’t reach. The sweet smell of roses and the spicy hint of patchouli met her nose.

Still grasping her hand, the butterflies in her stomach flapping wildly now, Carson led her across the room to the gigantic bed. His large hands went to her waist, and he hoisted her up on it.

“Carson…”

“Just one second, love.”

Before she realized it, he’d nestled her back into the fluffy pillows on the bed, and had grasped her left hand firm in his own. In a flash, that wrist was bound with a leather strap and he reached behind her to thread the other end through a large eyebolt embedded in the wood—something that she had not noticed before this—and pulled it taut and secured it with some sort of knot. Still moving swiftly, and reaching over her, he quickly bound her right wrist, as well.

All Bree could do was look up into Carson’s eyes in wonder and imagine the puzzled look on her own face.

“Um, Carson. I don’t believe this is necessary. I’m not exactly sure what you have in mind for the next twenty four hours, but.... Normally I’m pretty much of a pushover when it comes to sex so, you know, I can be a sure thing. Of course, I know that we’ve not even talked about that, but…”

“My apologies, sweetheart,” he pushed back from the bed, hands on his hips, “but I can’t risk you slipping away on me while I tend to something.”

“You’re asking an awful lot for the thirty grand, aren’t you?”

He snickered. “Sorry honey. I’m not asking for anything. I didn’t buy you for me.”

“What?”

Stepping back from the bed, he said, “Wait here.” Then starting for the door, he came up quick, snapping his finger.

“Like I have a choice?”

Turning and tossing back that oh-so-sexy grin of his again, he replied, “No love, you don’t. Not for the moment. But remember, I did buy you, and the deal was twenty-four hours to do my bidding.”

“I didn’t sign any deal.” She tugged at the leather strap with her right hand. Hm. Pretty darned secure.

“No, but your lovely business partner did.” He glanced at the door. “Remember, it’s for the shelter. I’ll be right back,” he added.

For the shelter.

Somehow, she didn’t think Grace Walker had this in mind when she proclaimed her sold for thirty thousand dollars.

Holy shit! He’d paid thirty thousand big ones! For her.

Bree wiggled against the straps and curled her upper body toward the foot of the bed. “Wait!”

But he was gone, although only for a minute. He returned with a handful of tinsel garland, obviously snatched from the Christmas tree down the hall.

“Here love.” Working to untangle the tinsel, he wove them into the leather straps at her waist. Then stepping back and admiring his handiwork, he must have decided she needed to look even more festive than she already did, for he draped tinsel over her body, her arms, breasts, thighs…

“I am not a Christmas package, Carson.” When would this charade be over?

Leaning forward, he brushed his lips against her cheek and moved to her ear. His body heat radiated, warming her from chest to her toes. The caress was nearly her undoing. Since she couldn’t resist much, or push him away, it only excited her more. Shit. He lingered, his hot breath on her ear. “Oh, but sweetheart,” he sexy-slurred the words, “you are just that. A beautiful Christmas present all wrapped up and waiting.”

Her chest lifted and fell and the bed shifted with his weight. The tension between the two of them was palpable. The fine hairs on the side of her cheek were erect and sensing his nearness. Finally, ever so slowly, Carson pulled back far enough to fasten his gaze into hers and hold. She watched the deep blue depths of his eyes flicker and reflect the gold hues of the room.

“Damn…” he said, then abruptly pulled back. His steps toward the door were assured and quick.

“Carson.” She let his name slip off her tongue, not sure why or what she wanted from him.

With a sigh, he halted with his hand on the doorknob and dragged his gaze back to her. “Yes, Bree?”

“So are you going to tell me what your bidding is?”

He studied her for a moment, and then calmly replied, “Not yet.”

Chapter Four

The wind nipped at his cheeks but Jake didn’t care. He needed air. Fucking, frigid air. Standing out on a breezeway, which led from the main house to the casitas, he was sheltered from the fine falling snow, but glad for the sting of cold to numb his brain and still his pounding heart.

The crowd had left, thank God. The last cocktail waitress was auctioned off to her bartender boyfriend, and he’d swooshed them out the door telling them not to worry about cleaning up, given the snow and all. She didn’t bring in the dollars that her partner had, but it didn’t matter. Damn Carson. He’d forked over thirty thousand dollars of his savings. It was a good cause, of course, but…

What in hell was he going to do with Bree?

Everything that had rolled around inside him for the past few months was coming to a head tonight. He hadn’t seen it coming. His entire world could come crashing down around him in one fell swoop. He feared that. He could lose it all.

Carson.

Bree.

Though, he never really had Bree. He simply lusted after her, loathed himself for it, and lied about it. But he did have Carson. And he didn’t want to give him up. They had been together for eight years. How can one throw away that many years? He couldn’t, which was why he felt so conflicted. The sexual encounter with Bree had changed everything, since he and Carson had devoted their lives to each other. That commitment was a life-changing event.

They had both lived bi-sexual lives and were quite open with their sexual and promiscuous selves. Sex was part of their lifestyle. But then, they were young. Carefree.

And stupid.

A little age on both of them caused them to think about their lives and futures. They had been good friends for years then discovered they were more than that—they were in love with each other. Once that realization hit, and they knew they wanted to meld their lives, they made plans and set out to live the dream.

Together.

Eight years ago they made that commitment. And now, on one Christmas Eve, it was all going to hell.

All due to his indiscretion and lack of self-control.

He wasn’t sure what worried him more. Letting the notion and fantasy of Bree go forever? Or losing Carson.

Or perhaps, what truly frightened him was the look in Carson’s eyes as he stood in their living room looking up at Bree while he bid on her.

That’s when he’d had to walk away. For several seconds, he held the notion that he should buy her, talk to her, figure this out. But he couldn’t pull it off. He couldn’t bear any of it, any longer.

Was Carson attracted to her?

Was he out to get even? Had he known about Bree all this time?

Behind him, he heard a door open and close.

“So there you are.”

Jake closed his eyes at Carson’s voice. Perhaps this was it. Was she with him? Slowly, he turned to face the piper. Carson stood alone, framed by the door.

“Needed some air.” Lame excuse, he knew. He’d been avoiding this party all evening.

“Come with me.” Carson held out his hand. He voice was mellow, his face sporting a serious look.

“We can talk out here.”

Shaking his head, Carson returned, “No. I don’t want to talk; I want to show you something.”

Not in the mood for games. Impatience was eating at him. “If you are going to end our relationship,” he told him, “just tell me now, and let’s get it over with.”

Stepping closer, Carson looked deep into his eyes. “Jake,” he said softly, “I don’t want to end our relationship. I want to save it. Now please, come with me.”

* * * *

Waiting gave Bree time to study the room in which she was being held captive. It also gave her time to think about what might be coming next.

Panning the room, it was obvious the scene was set for seduction. And more. A thought niggled that Carson had planned this…but how could he? He wouldn’t have known she would show up tonight. Right?

Oh crap. Was he out for just anyone who would fit the bill? Not her? Was he some perverted sex fiend, and she had willingly fallen into his trap? For that matter, what did she really know about either of them? Jake or Carson?

Not much.

Rich, handsome, and two of them. That’s all she knew. And that Jake had a cock made to please.

So, what about this den of seduction? And why her?

Certainly her mind was just spinning scenarios. Jake and Carson were harmless. Right?

But honestly, what seduction would be needed, when one was shackled to a bed, laying in wait? Frightened, intrigued, and confusingly turned-on all at the same time, she waited.

Hell, the waiting alone was practically foreplay.

Her body was growing hot in anticipation. What was in store for her? The yearning… thinking about Carson and Jake…

Carson. Jake.

Shit!

She wanted them both. Now, that, was a new twist to her sexual repertoire.

Tugging at the leather and tinsel ties that bound her to the bed, she glanced backward at the sturdy headboard and studied the carvings there. The bed was truly a work of art. She found it extremely interesting how a series of antiquated, but quite sturdy, eye hooks dotted the wood.

Had they always been there, or was this a new feature? The way the hooks were embedded, it looked like they had been there for some time.

She arched a brow. All of this brought forth some interesting questions about Carson and Jake’s lifestyle. Was she the first woman to be tied to this bed? Or, were the two men regular participants in extra-curricular activities?

With men and women?

Or, was this their bed and theirs alone?

An uneasy, and unexpected, tingling tripped over her tummy.

That’s when the double oak doors swung open, again, and in walked the pair.

Jake immediately bolted toward her. “What in hell?” He swung back to look at his partner. “What have you done!”

“Slow down, Jake.”

“Let her go.” His gaze swept over her. She watched his eyes. Angry. Hungry. And confused.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Just a little baffled.”

“I needed her to stay put while I went to get you,” Carson said. “I couldn’t take a chance.”

“Ridiculous.” Jake swept a hand through his ebony locks. His eyes were crossed with worry while he held her gaze. That one gesture made her groin tighten. Gradually, he dragged his gaze back to Carson. “All right. So what do you want? Tell me. I’m tired of the avoidance and the deception. But I’m a bit bewildered as to why Bree needs to be here to witness this.”

Cocking his head, Carson stared at Jake. “Merry Christmas, Jake. I love you.”

Bree watched the fixed stare between the two. “I don’t understand,” Jake said.

Carson glanced back at Bree. She connected with his gaze for a moment before he turned back to Jake. “I know what happened. I suspected the moment you stepped out of that hallway at the realty office those months ago, and I knew for certain when you said you didn’t think Conner & Baker were the realtors for us. You’ve been miserable for months, Jake. I know you like I know the back of my hand. So, I arranged for Conner & Baker to be a part of the event tonight. I bought Bree for you. She’s yours. For the night. Merry Christmas.”

He glanced between the two.

Bree felt her chest rise and fall in very short pants.

Carson peered into Jake’s eyes and Jake stared back. To her, it didn’t appear that Carson was mad, just matter of fact. “Figure out what you want, Jake,” he added. “Get her out of your system if you can. Then decide. Who do you want? Her? Me? Or…”

He paused, that last word limping out of his mouth, and then slowly rotated his head to hook directly into Bree’s stare. Her heart tripped a little in her chest. “Or, something,” he added.

What do you mean by that?

Then, she watched as he nodded to Jake and left. A strong click sounded from behind the door. Was it bolted from the outside? Could they leave? Slowly, she pivoted her gaze back to Jake.

Jake’s heart pounded with wild anticipation looking at Bree lying on the bed. Draped in tinsel, her wrists bound by both silver and leather rested on the pillows beside her head. Either Carson had nestled her there between the oversized, red silk pillows or she’d maneuvered herself to where she leaned against the antique headboard, pretty as a picture.

Her waist-length hair fell over one shoulder. Her Santa hat was tilted precariously off to one side. With her knees bent, she sat almost as if posed. Her long, silky legs, still clad with those decadent black boots, beckoned. Perusing from toe to forehead, he paused slightly at her chest, watching it lift and fall in quick bursts. Finally, he settled on her questioning face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Come here,” she said back.

He didn’t know what to do. They were in here for the long haul, he knew that. Carson wouldn’t joke about it. Twenty four hours. He’d slid the old board lock into place on the antique doors from the outside.

“So what are you going to do?” she prompted.

“What?”

“With me.”

Do? What was he going to do? He wasn’t a monster. He didn’t take on a sex partner who was unwilling, and he was mightily against coercion of any sort. Rushing to her side, he sat on the edge of the bed and reached for the hand closest to him. “First, I’m untying you. Then, we talk.”

“Talk?” He glanced down at the scowl on Bree’s face.

“Yes. Talk.”

Touching her was almost his undoing. Static crackled between them as he reached for her far hand. Making short work of his mission, he loosened the nooses around her wrists, leaving the straps firmly tied to the eyebolts. Releasing her now, he leaned back, his fists resting on the bed on either side of her hips. The magnetism between them was more powerful than he wanted to admit.

She smelled heavenly, almost like a Christmas sugar cookie, but the heady scent of promised sex won out. She oozed nothing close to sweet and innocence. His pulse pounded and his mouth grew dry. Slowly, he pulled his gaze to her face and stayed fixed there for way too long.

With each slow and deliberate breath she took, he was drawn in. Unable to separate himself from what should, or should not be, he lifted a hand to palm her cheek. Her eyes closed and she sighed at his touch. His heartbeat picked up its cadence and he felt lightheaded.

“Bree…” he whispered.

She opened her round, brown eyes and he fell in. Deep.

“Don’t think,” she breathed back. “Not yet. Perhaps…” he felt himself leaning involuntarily into her, “…later.”

If only he could. “I need to say a couple of things. I don’t do this. That time in your office…I’d not done that in years. I am…was…totally devoted to Carson. I don’t play around and yet, I fucked you in your office restroom like a wolf in heat. I want to apologize…”

“I was there, too,” she told him. “Don’t blame yourself, Jake. I stepped over that threshold; you didn’t haul me in and have your way with me.”

“No, but it was a mistake. I should have had more self-control. And ever since that day, I can’t get you out of my head…”

“Nor can I, you,” she breathed.

If there was one fraction of resolve left inside him, it was gone with that statement.

Lunging forward, he captured her lips with his. Fully on the bed now, he gathered her into his arms as they both scooted away from the pillows. Body to body, pressed together length to length, he took her face in both hands while his lips and tongue tasted and kissed.

And she kissed back.

With each thrust of her tongue, or gentle caress of her dewy lips against his, his body trilled with her nearness and their connectedness.

He could not stop himself. Nothing could make him…

She wiggled in his arms. “Jake, stop.”

Except maybe that.

Groaning, he pulled back. “Bree, I’m in such utter contradiction here. I don’t know whether to devour you or put you out in the snow.”

“I just want to say one more thing.”

“What is it?” He traced the outline of her face with his forefinger, waiting out his frustration. What a beautiful woman. And he wanted her so damned bad.

“I won’t hold you to anything. I… I am as conflicted as you. I don’t want to come between you and Carson. I just need…” Her voice trailed off and she looked to his chest, “Shit, I just need you for right now, okay?” she said with a soft voice. “I don’t want to think about anything else.”

Huffing out a breath of relief, he rolled fully on top of her. “Okay.”

“Last time was too quick,” she added.

Closing his eyes, and his mind, against anything but the woman in his arms, he replied, “It appears we have twenty-four hours.”

She nodded. “And for those twenty-four hours, I belong to you.”

Chapter Five

Never had Bree felt so totally free, and at the same time, consumed by another. She didn’t care. She wanted to be totally possessed by Jake. And she had an entire night and day, it seemed, to enjoy.

Pushing back any guilt about Carson, and the relationship she could be infringing upon, she studied Jake’s face and the puzzle of emotion painted across it. Her own face likely echoed that sentiment.

But Carson had agreed. Or rather, insisted. He wanted closure, one way or another. She did not want to come between them. Would not. If she and Jake had tonight, with Carson’s blessing, then so be it. She, too, would get Jake out of her system.

After that, she couldn’t say.

His long fingers threaded through the fine hairs at her temples, holding her against the bed. He peered down into her face, the low flicker of candles reflecting both passion and desire in his eyes. God, she wanted him.

“Please, Jake,” she whimpered.

He lowered and thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. The act of penetration into that orifice made her curl toward him in want. His tongue grappled with hers, and he tugged at it with his teeth, slowly drawing it deep inside his mouth with a thorough suck.

Their mouths fused, Jake sucked harder, continuing an erotic and sensuous intake of her tongue into the cavern of his mouth. Her arms went around his broad shoulders and her legs around his hips. She clung to him, and he rocked into her pelvis.

Her pussy longed to have him between her thighs. Now, she only needed him naked, with the hot friction of skin against skin.

Whimpering, she clasped at his head, weaving her fingers through his inky locks. She broke away with a gasp; he jerked back, fire licking in his eyes, as he raked his gaze over her face and down her chest.

He grasped the bodice of her dress and ripped. It fell away like so much crepe paper. Tearing the fabric from her body, Jake unwrapped Bree like a Christmas package. Lingering bits of tinsel scattered about the bedcover, and she was left with nothing but her black thong, strapless bra, and boots.

On his knees now, Jake’s hungry stare scraped down her body, his breathing labored. His large hands started at her shoulders and worked their way down either side. He palmed her breasts, lifting them out of the bra cups, pinching her nipples between thumb and forefinger. Passion zinged through her at the squeeze. She ached for more.

Reaching behind her, he grasped the clasps at her back and pulled hard. The bra sailed off as he tossed it over the side of the bed. Continuing downward, he smoothed his hands over the indent of her waist and the flare of her hips. He thumbed over her hipbones and twisted the string of the thong on both sides. With a snap, he jerked his hands in opposite directions and broke the string, the thong falling away, as well.

The only thing left was her boots.

Bree’s entire being hummed with expectation.

With aggravating slow precision, he unlaced the left boot. The thin patent leather parted, and he peeled the boot off her calf, then down to her ankle, and finally removed it. He did the same with the other leg, each time smoothing his hands over her calves and ankles in appreciation.

Jake lifted a foot close to his face. Bree watched as he closed his eyes and ran the tender sole of the foot over his stubbled beard. The fine prickles heightened the sensitive nerve endings there and caused her to shiver. Never before, had a touch in her arch sent her into waves of sexual desire.

With his thumbs, he applied pressure just under the pads beneath her toes, massaging and fondling. Starting with her smallest toe, he then began sucking each, pulling the digits into his mouth one by one, laving his tongue over them.

He moved to the other foot and did the same.

She had no clue toe-sucking could be so sensual.

“You’ve been on your feet all night,” he murmured. “Let me take care of you.”

Oh shit, don’t say that. I could get too used to it…

“Lay back, Bree. Close your eyes. And let me.”

Without protest, she did just that, but not before saying, “Take your clothes off, Jake. Now.”

He did, and she marveled at the glorious planes and hollows of his naked body, and the strong upright profile of his cock-to-die-for.

Moving up into the vee of her core, Jake spanned her thighs with his hands. He settled between her legs and opened her pussy wide. With practiced movements, he palmed over the tender junction of leg and hip and massaged her there. Like butter, she melted into the bed and he smiled, knowing he was providing her with much pleasure. Pushing back the tiny crest of dark brown curls that rimmed her labia, he parted her lips to reveal a glistening bud. He leaned in closer and rubbed a finger over her pearl.

Bree jumped and arched upward; his smile deepened.

With a middle finger, he entered her. Then with two. Moaning, she laid back and allowed him access. He probed, she was slick and open. Both hands played, stretching her, kneading her hot, sticky pussy flesh. He relished in the purely decadent feel of his fingers inside her body.

Jake had always been fascinated with the female anatomy. He loved exploring the contours and grottos of delight it offered. Bree’s body was a purely sinful expedition. A woman’s body, from his perspective, was a thing to pleasure, not necessarily a thing to take pleasure from. He planned to spend his time these next hours pleasuring her as much as humanly possible.

Trailing a finger over her perineum, he flicked at her anus. She reacted with a jerk and catlike moan.

He pushed her legs higher, allowing him full access. Catching sight of the leather straps still firmly attached to the eyebolts, he contemplated how Bree might react to their use. Their previous sexual encounter was fast and hot. Perhaps they should establish a couple of ground rules until he was certain of her threshold of sex play.

“Bree,” he said softly. “I never want to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable, so let’s play a little game.” He reached for a strap. “Anytime you want me to stop, say the word red and I will stop immediately. I promise you. If you want me to keep going, say green, and I will continue. Do you understand?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

He trailed a strap over her breast. She caught her breath. “You want me to continue?”

“Green.”

He stifled a grin. “Move closer to the headboard.”

Her eyes wide, she watched as he toyed with the leather noose in his hand. She did as he asked, and scooted back, pushing pillows out of the way.

Lifting first one foot, then the other, he slipped the leather cuffs over her ankles and tightened them. Moving to the headboard, he loosened the knots slightly and increased the tension until Bree’s legs were held in the air, her knees slightly bent, her pussy and ass angled up and open to him. She could move a bit, if she needed to. He knew that the straps would actually help her to keep from straining to keep her legs in this position.

And he wanted them up and her body open.

“You okay?”

Her eyes met his. “Green.”

Before settling between her thighs again, he opened a bedside table drawer and withdrew a tube of flavored lubricant. He warmed the lube on his fingers before touching her. Soon, he was back to exploring her depths, probing in and out of her vagina, with first one finger, then two, while increasing pressure and providing a determined internal massage.

Jake alternately watched Bree’s face, and her pussy, gauging her reactions by her moans, movements, and facial tics, along with the puckering and expanding of her vaginal muscles. Her eyes were closed, her head lolled to one side, then the other, as he continued his play. Dragging a middle finger downward, he teased her perineum and circled her anus. For good measure, he applied a little more lube to that area, allowing his middle finger to play and tempt her hole, then slowly slide into her ass. Bree gasped, and he stilled, looking to her face. Her eyes still closed, she whispered, “Green.”

Repositioning himself, he leaned on one hip, angling his body slightly to the left. With the middle finger of his right hand up her ass, he inserted his right thumb into her pussy. Pushing her left leg back toward her chest a bit more, her rear raised up further off the bed. He squeezed his thumb and middle finger together, cupping all of her sex in the palm of his big hand. He pushed both digits up as far into her as he could, massaging her from the inside, squeezing and probing.

She shivered and moaned, her lower body on the brink of convulsion.

He leaned closer, his gaze caught on the wet and shimmering pearl between her labia. Unable to resist tasting her any longer, he touched the tip of his tongue to the fleshy gem and flicked her starving clit. He’d neglected that part of her anatomy for too long. Now, it was time.

“Green…green…” Bree moaned, and he increased his tongue’s pressure on her clit. His fingers still worked her holes, pinching and prodding, her perineum caught between them.

Laving sloppy kisses over her pussy, his tongue explored while she trembled beneath him. Moving lower, his tongue teased at her opening, rivaling his thumb for attention. He sucked at her labia and tongue-fucked her while his thumb continued to play.

Her pants and whimpers spurned him on. He knew, as they increased in frequency, that she was close to exploding.

At once, she came up off the bed with a powerful orgasm.

Jake held her with fingers and tongue and thumb while she came down. He laid his head in the cradle of her thighs as he removed his fingers and gave her a moment. Her body hummed with pleasure, and his heart swelled knowing that he had given it to her.

“Green,” he heard her whisper from above. “Your cock. Now. In my ass.”

Without a second’s hesitation, Jake rose above her, his body between her knees. He positioned himself, his hands on her thighs, curling her lower body back toward the headboard. He thumbed her asshole, fingering along the rim, wondering if she could take him.

He added some extra lube to his fingers and again, pushed his thumb inside, readying her.

“Yes, Jake. Please…”

“Green?”

“Yes. Green.”

With a groan, he pressed the head of his cock against her hole. Damn, she was small and tight. Headiness overtook him as he pushed forward. He felt he might explode before he was inside.

She opened and he eased himself in. Bree groaned and reached for him. Her fingers grasped his wrists and held tight. He pushed forward and lost himself inside her. For several dizzying moments, all he knew was that he was inside her, fucking her, again, and that was all that mattered.

He came with such force that he shouted and shuddered with explosive reaction. He spilled his seed inside her, burying his cock to the hilt, with thrusts that both invigorated and depleted him.

Fumbling with the leather straps around her ankles, he released her. Sated, he collapsed onto her, drew her into his arms, and held onto her with everything that was left inside him.

Finally, they slept.

* * * *

The room was dark when Bree woke a couple of hours later. At some point Jake must have left the bed long enough to blow out the candles and extinguish the lamps. He was beside her now, though, his body heat radiating toward her.

She’d been thoroughly fucked a few hours earlier, but even so, all she could think about at this moment in time, was Jake’s cock firmly implanted her pussy.

His back was to her. She spooned him from behind and skimmed her hand over his hip, settling at his groin. His engorged cock felt silky and firm in the palm of her hand. She dragged her fingers over him with a feather light touch, her sex building with want as she did so.

Jake shifted and in one motion, grasped her wrists and pulled her on top of him. The action sent her reeling with desire.

“Fuck me,” Jake groaned from the pillows. She could barely see in the dark. But she could find him nonetheless, straddling him, and roughly impaling her body on his dick.

“Ahhhh…shit.” Jake called out and grappled for her breasts. He caught them both in his hands and squeezed.

Bree rocked and rode, her hair tossed back, her pussy stretched to accommodate him. She milked with her muscles and he cried out her name over and over again. She clasped her hands over his forearms for leverage, while he continued to clutch her breasts.

“Give it to me,” she cried out, wanting to feel him come inside her. “I want your cum, baby.” Her own passion was building inside her as his head stroked fervently against her G-spot. “Oh, damn…more, baby…goddamn…”

Fast and furious, she stroked him with her body. His hands dropped to her hips, anchoring her against his pelvis. Jake cried out again, and simultaneously in Bree, the dam burst. “Oh, god…” she gasped, her body rolling forward against his chest.

They lay fused, shuddering in release, sighing with pleasure that bordered on pain. His arms went around her and for some crazy and stupid reason, Bree felt like crying.

Chapter Six

Bree slept a deep and satisfied sleep while lying in Jake’s arms. Occasionally she found herself nuzzling into him, feeling safe and protected. And wanted. She loved that feeling and was hard pressed to move from their private cocoon. She’d ventured in and out of sex-induced slumber until finally going fully under.

Now, she was coming awake, and slowly realizing that something was different. Glancing at the heavily draped window across the room, she noticed a sliver of daylight peeking through, and was embarrassed that she had slept so long. Rising up on one elbow, she instantly realized that she was alone.

Jake was gone.

But where?

Her gaze moved to the heavy doors, now standing slightly ajar. So what did this mean? She was free to go? He’d made a decision…and it wasn’t her? Did she not satisfy him or had he simply had his fill of her?

She didn’t know, and her brain was too groggy to speculate. Needing to pee, she left the warmth of the bed behind and tiptoed to the adjoining bathroom, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Alone, she questioned her sanity. How could she have done what she did? She never considered herself the kind of person to break up someone else’s relationship. It was one thing to cheat on her own relationship. It was quite another to interfere with someone else’s. At the moment, she wasn’t sure she could live with herself.

Yet, Carson had given his blessing.

Still…

And what about Carson? His come-hither innuendos throughout the evening were a puzzle all unto their own. What did he want out of all of this?

After she’d used the toilet, Bree leaned into the sink looking into her eyes. Her face told the tale of a long night. She looked like that phrase her mother used to say, about women who were less than respectable—that they’d been “rode hard and put up wet.”

She’d been ridden hard, that was for certain. And gave as good as she got. Put up wet? Yeah, that, too.

Glancing toward the tiled shower stall, she initiated a short conversation with herself and decided that a shower would be both appropriate and desirable about now. She was sticky and smelled like sex. Besides, while cleaning up, she could contemplate her next move while the water beat over her body.

Nothing like stinging pellets to make one come to their senses.

Standing under the stream, her hair twisted into a knot on top of her head to prevent it from getting too wet, it wasn’t long before she realized exactly what she had to do. Not certain how she would get home off the mountain, she knew she had to do just that. Ginger, she figured, was long gone. She had no clue what the snowstorm had done to the roads during the night. And crap, even worse, she had no clothes.

But she had to leave. Jake was too irresistible, and Carson was becoming a temptation in his own right. She was wildly attracted to them both, and that could only spell trouble. She’d never had the opportunity to experience a ménage liaison before, even though the thought intrigued her. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it.

But it didn’t matter, did it? It wasn’t in the offering.

If she were totally honest with herself, she feared rejection, big time.

And the rules were changing.

Somehow the door to the bedroom had been opened in the night. Maybe Carson had changed his mind and came after Jake. Perhaps Jake was having second thoughts and had figured out a way to leave. Either way, she was not going to come between them.

Or be there when either returned.

That was that.

She twisted the knob halting the water and stepped out of the shower. A fluffy towel was draped nearby on a hook. Gathering herself up in the thick terry, she rubbed at her body to absorb some of the droplets, then tucked it under her arms and gathered the remainder at her breast. She padded off into the bedroom in search of clothing.

* * * *

“So, did you come to share the sordid details, or what?” Carson sat at the bar in their kitchen, hunched over a cup of coffee, reading a book. He didn’t look up as Jake entered. “Finally jimmied that board off the latch, huh? Funny, I didn’t realize you’d be so keen to escape.”

“We need to talk.” Jake felt the urgency. It was time.

Carson turned a page.

“Look, you forced my hand on this issue,” Jake finally said.

Carson replied by carefully closing the book and peering across the kitchen to meet his lover’s gaze. “Someone needed to force something. You weren’t coming clean, nor were you admitting there was an issue. You made no attempt at resolution, or anything.” He stood. “Yes, dammit, I forced your hand. I can’t go on like this. I want our life back.”

Jake wasn’t sure they could ever get back what they once had. Not exactly.

“Yes, I lied to you.” He stepped closer to Carson, not breaking the gaze. “I lied. I lusted. I loathed myself for it. I fucked her, and it came out of nowhere. It wasn’t planned, Carson, it just happened.”

“And you’ve not been able to forget it.”

“No.”

“You should have told me.”

“I… I tried. I couldn’t. Carson, I love you. I need and want to be with you.”

“But she got in the way.”

“And I didn’t know what to do about it.”

Narrowing his gaze, Carson held his stare for a moment then broke away to look out the kitchen window. “Not telling me was the first mistake. Lying when I asked you if something was wrong was the second one.” His voice trailed off. “Jake, before we have any chance of moving on…of figuring this out…I have to know that I can trust you.”

Closing his eyes, Jake wondered if the trust was completely broken. He moved closer to Carson, so close behind him that he wanted to run his hands over his shoulders and hold him. He was in as much pain as him, he was certain.

“I want you to trust me,” he said. “How do I earn it back? Where do we go from here? What do I have to do?”

Turning, Carson faced him. “You can start by telling me the truth. Right now.” He paused, and Jake held his breath. “Answer me this, Jake. Can you let her go? Are you finished with her now?”

Searching deep, Jake knew that his future rested on how he answered that question. He had to be honest, no matter what. He had to earn the trust back.

Even if it meant the end of their relationship.

“No. I can’t let her go.”

And that was the truth. He was not ready to give up Bree. Didn’t know if he ever could.

The tension between them was tensile-strength and about to snap.

Lifting his chin, Carson peered back with penetrating eyes. “Then I have one more question. Are you willing to share her?”

* * * *

“Men,” Bree muttered to herself, “do they not own anything halfway decent to wear besides baggie sweats, long shorts, and t-shirts?” Of course, the walk-in Jake and Carson shared was filled with dress and casual clothes, alike, but she wanted something that would half-way fit her and make her not look like a vagabond wandering the street. She had no clue what she would do for shoes, unless she wore the stupid boots.

Not likely.

Still holding the towel at her chest, she rummaged through one of the men’s drawers, not coming up with anything to her liking. “Dammit.”

“Looking for something?”

She bolted straight up, her towel taking a lunge. Turning, she grasped it closed between her breasts and looked at Jake—tall and dark and handsome—framed in the open double doors.

“I… I thought I’d find something to put on.”

“No need.” He reached and shut the doors behind him. “No clothing required for the next,” his gaze dropped to his wristwatch, “sixteen hours or so. After that, we’ll figure out the clothing situation.”

“Sorry, Jake, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. Really, I need to be going. May I just borrow…?” She picked up a t-shirt.

He swept to her side, took the shirt out of her hand, and laid it back on the dresser. “There will be no talk of leaving, Bree. The roads are snow-covered and nasty. We can’t risk it. Besides, your twenty-four hours are not up yet.”

Panicking a bit, she drew back, drawing the towel closer. “Surely you are not going to hold me to that silly auction thing, are you Jake? Let me call Ginger. I’m sure her jeep…” At once, she wondered where her cell phone was. Had she even had it last night? The last time she remembered seeing it was back in her apartment. That’s right; she’d tossed it on her bed.

But no matter. That was the least of her concern at the moment. Avoiding Jake, she moved toward the bed. “I’ll call someone.”

“Nobody is coming out in this weather, Bree.”

She turned boldly to face him, remembering her conviction of a moment earlier. Even if she couldn’t leave, she wasn’t going to carry this any further. Surely there was another room where she could hang out…far away from this den of seduction. “Jake, we can’t go on with this. Just let me be. The last thing I want to do is come between you and Carson. It’s best that we let this die.”

“So you didn’t enjoy our night together?”

Swallowing hard, she looked into his eyes. “I can’t deny that I enjoyed every second. And that is the problem. There is no future here, Jake, and I’m not taking this any further. You and Carson have a life together. I need to exit, and we need to forget this ever happened.”

“Your words and the look on your face are in utter contradiction, my dear.” Stepping forward, he ran a fingertip over her forehead. “So many frown lines and worry wrinkles,” he whispered. Drawing closer, his breath was hot on her neck. “Let me erase those, Bree.”

She backed away. “You aren’t listening to me.” Dammit, for once she was going to have resolve. She was going to do the right thing!

“I’m reading your body language. Your words aren’t very convincing.”

Frustrated, she balled her hands into fists. “Stop doing that! Quit putting things in my head for me to think about. I know what I need to do. I need for you to stop confusing me!”

Jake’s shoulders slumped and he exhaled hard. The relaxation of his body made her more at ease. “Please stop,” she whispered. “I’m trying to do the right thing. Please let me.”

Jake closed his eyes at her words. “I love you, Bree.”

Her head shook in denial. “No. Don’t do that.”

“I do. I can’t deny it. Being with you last night made me realize that I cannot live without you. I love you, and I want you.”

No. This wasn’t happening. She stalked off. “But what about Carson! You can’t throw that relationship away!”

“Bree, that’s what I want to talk with you about.”

“No. You can’t love me.”

“I do.”

“No!”

“Bree, please…” he reached for her and she jerked away.

“I do not fall in love, Jake. I don’t. And you cannot and will not fall in love with me. I screw up every relationship that comes my way. There is no hope for us.”

“I can make you happy. This will be different. Please hear what I have to say…”

“No. It’s not in me. I can’t settle for one man. Never have I been able to do that. I’ll break your heart down the road. I guarantee it. We’ll be together, and I’ll see someone else. It’s what I do. One man just isn’t enough for me.”

Jake quieted her with a hand in the air. She stopped talking and looked into his face. Finally, he said, “Stop for a moment, okay? Quit selling yourself short. Just because you screwed up in the past doesn’t mean you will fuck up in the future.”

“But…”

“No. I won’t listen to another word, Bree. And I’m not letting you go tonight. You’re staying here. With me. And by God, you’re going to let me have one more chance of convincing you that we belong together. Do you understand?”

A nervous laugh escaped her throat. “So what are you going to do, tie me to that bed for the next sixteen hours until I cry out my love for you in orgasmic pleasure?”

The expression on his face didn’t budge. The silence between them spoke volumes.

“Give me one more chance, Bree,” he whispered, “to make this work. Give me a few more hours. I love you. I need you. And I guarantee you that by this evening, you will never want to leave.”

Swallowing hard, Bree held his gaze. Her head said no. Her pussy was already wet, betraying her. And her heart was definitely on the fence.

Still, she looked him square in the face and said, “All right.”

Chapter Eight

Jake drew closer. “Do you trust me?”

Looking up at him with round, soulful eyes, she replied with a simple, “Yes.”

“Good.” His hands went to the rim of the over-sized towel. Tugging it away from her body, he tossed it aside. “This will work, Bree,” he said softly, “but you must trust me. And remember, red and green. It always works.”

She nodded and Jake felt his chest swell and his mouth curl into a smile. God, he loved her. And he could only hope that in the end, all would work out.

Carson had surprised him. Totally, utterly from left field, had thrown him for a loop. But it was a good loop, and if they all were fortunate, things would fall together like a charm.

She stood before him, naked and confident, with a possible hint of vulnerability. Hell, they were all vulnerable. When it came to love, anyone can lose.

Or win.

Tonight he hoped they all were winners.

“You are so…beautiful.” His words were raspy and broken. “Come here.” He offered her his hand and Bree took it. Slowly, they rounded the bed. Jake admired her firm body and rounded contours, and was eager to explore her again.

With his hands to her waist, he lifted her to sit on the edge of the tall bed. At that height, he looked down on her, liking the position of dominance as she stared up at him with innocent—or maybe not so innocent—eyes.

“You understand you were given to me for twenty-four hours, correct?”

She nodded, lowering her gaze.

“You are mine, Bree. You will do as I ask and strive to meet my needs. In turn, I will see that you are well-satisfied. Tonight, you belong to me, my little Christmas slave.”

Her eyelids fluttered as she lifted her gaze to meet his. A sliver of a smile met her lips as their gazes fused. His heart melted. “Yes, sir,” she whispered.

“Trust me.” It wasn’t a question.

She nodded.

Stepping to his right, Jake opened a bedside table drawer. “I have a new addition to our repertoire,” he told her, and pulled out the black silk blindfold he’d tucked there earlier.

* * * *

Jake had drawn the heavy drapes tight, eliminating any curls of light coming from the outside. Even though it was about mid-morning, the room was dark enough so that candles and soft lamps were needed. Now blindfolded, Bree could barely see a thing, although she remembered exactly how the room looked a moment before.

Leaning back against the nest of red silk pillows, propped against the massive headboard, she savored the slick, cool fabric against her naked back. The temperature in the room was cool, too, and her nipples puckered at the crispness. Her wrists were bound and rested comfortably against the pillows at her shoulders.

Jake had tied the blindfold around her head with a gentle tug. He had lifted her into his arms and had placed her just so, while he bound her with leather and tinsel.

Now, she waited. She’d felt the swish of the satin sheets as Jake moved off the bed. He left her with a soft, “Be patient, love. I will be right back. Shh…” and a gentle touch of his finger to her lips. That was several minutes ago. The longer she lay in wait, the more heightened her sexual being became. Every nerve in her body stood alert.

He came to her without words, at first touching the hard pebble of her breasts with his fingertips. He pinched and twisted, and she gasped with pleasure. That lone touch caused her to squirm a little.

With a finger, he lifted her chin to angle her face up. The kiss he placed on her lips was sweet and sinful. Her breathing deepened as he slowly delved into her mouth with his tongue, and they mingled breath and lips.

She’d played a little with being cuffed and tied up prior to this but for some reason, blindfolding had never occurred to her, or her partners. She wondered why, because just the one kiss from Jake and only the touch of his lips to hers—coupled with not being able to see—had heightened her awareness and her pleasure.

She could get used to this.

Now she felt his hands on her face, cupping her cheeks in his palms. He angled closer and sat on the bed. Leaning his way with the shift, she felt the heat of his body next to hers.

Lost in the single sensation of his lips plying hers, she found herself slinking into the nest of pillows, lying prone on the bed. The headiness of his kiss overtook her, while his hands smoothed down the column of her neck with lazy, feathery strokes. Involuntarily, she jerked at her bonds, wanting to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him closer.

“Later, Bree…” he breathed. “I will let you loose later. Patience, love.”

Lying still, she waited, silently agreeing.

“I am going to move slow, Bree. We have hours. I hope you do not object.”

“No,” she said softly.

“Good.”

“Do you like the blindfold?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I want you to keep it on.”

That was just fine with her. With a light touch, he trailed his fingertips over her chest and circled each nipple. Her breasts swelled as his touch and she arched into his hands. He lifted and palmed their weight, rolled and squeezed her nipples. Leaning into her, he took one hard bud between his teeth and tugged.

Then again. Harder.

Oh, damn…

A sex-charged current zinged from that nipple straight to her clit. Jake continued a slow, deliberate assault with his teeth…sucking, teasing, tugging, tempting…

And nearly sending her over the edge.

So lost in the sensation, she barely registered another shift on the bed, until she felt a cool hand slowly work its way up the inside of her calf…and thigh. It took a couple of seconds for her brain to register that there were still, indeed, two hands at her breasts, but a third was easing toward her pussy.

What?

“Jake!”

“Shh, love…”

She jerked away. “Stop. Stop!” She twisted to the side, moving her legs away from whoever was at her feet. Jake continued toying with her breasts.

Fingers below grazed her pussy.

Again, she twisted, trying very hard to ignore the fabulous sensation being created down there. What is happening? “Stop, Jake. Take this blindfold off of me now!”

“Lay back, Bree. Quiet now. I do not want you to talk.”

Dammit. “Lay back? Relax? Whose hand is that?” Fingers again, probing… “Stop. Dammit. Stop.” Oh, hell. “Red. Red!”

Everything did, indeed, stop.

“Shit.” She cursed between her teeth, while attempting to shift upward against the headboard. “Take this blindfold off of me, now.”

She sat in silence for a moment, then finally, hands went behind her head and the blindfold was off. It took a moment of blinking before she registered who was sitting on the bed before her.

Jake and Carson.

“Oh, fuck…”

Both were naked. Both stared at her in wild expectation. Both of them oozed the promise of delicious, decadent sex.

And both were waiting for her to say something.

Thing was, she couldn’t think of one thing to say.

Carson inched forward. “Bree…”

“What do the two of you want from me?” There, that would cut to the chase.

Jake moved closer. “We want you, Bree. Both of us.”

“Both of you?”

Her gaze shifted from one man to another.

“Yes.”

“And you thought blindfolding me and bringing in Carson would make me receptive to that? Have you thought about a simple conversation?”

“We thought you might enjoy this.”

Well, damn, they were right. She was beginning to enjoy it. “I…” She truly didn’t know what to say. “I just need for you two to talk. I don’t have words right now.”

Resigned, she sank back into the pillows. “Talk,” she ordered.

Jake opened his mouth to speak, but Carson interrupted. “Let me,” he said, scooting closer to her side. “Honey, I know that you and I haven’t had much time, but there is a spark there, you have to agree.”

Nodding, she did agree. They’d made eyes all evening and the slip of his finger up her dress last night had thrilled her beyond belief. She’d not been able to set that feeling aside for long.

“You have a sexual potency that is extremely attractive to both of us,” he continued. “We both lived bi-sexual lives for a long time until we committed to each other. But you…you have tempted us back to where we feel most comfortable. There has never been another woman we’ve each felt this attracted to.

“Jake has been struggling for months. I don’t want to lose him. I love him. And he loves you. I know you, and I need time, but there is a strong attraction, and I think…”

She searched his eyes and he paused before saying his next words. “I think the three of us will make a lovely couple, er, threesome. Bree, we want you in our lives. Permanently.”

So there it was. Dumbfounded, she swallowed and hooked her gaze into Carson’s. Slowly, she dragged it away and then connected with Jake.

Both of them?

Would that satisfy her want for variety? Give her what she needed in a relationship?

“You did say earlier, sweetheart, that one man was not enough for you.”

That, she did.

She took a moment to think. Reflect. And wonder…

“I have only one request,” she told them finally.

“Your wish is our command.” Jake reached for her hand and held it.

She nodded. “All right. Put the blindfold back on me and take away the straps. I have a feeling I am going to need both of my hands. But for our first time together, I don’t want to see. I just want to feel and meld you together in my head.”

And heart.

I just want to feel, experience, and fall in love with you both. I don’t want to think about who is who, and who is doing what.

She paused and watched both of their eyes grow round. “Now, please. Green.”

* * * *

The last thing she saw was Jake moving toward her with the blindfold. He fastened it snug around her eyes, then moved to rest beside her on the bed. Carson joined them on the opposite side. For a little while, she lay there sandwiched between them, absorbing the heat of their bodies and relishing in the musky smell of men, plural, flanking her.

Turning on one side, she nuzzled into the body on her left. Jake, she was certain. Carson spooned her from behind. Hands wandered over her body from both sides and she simply closed her eyes and let the scene play out in her head behind the silky scrap of fabric.

Being the center of attention between two virile males was definitely not a bad thing, she confessed to herself. There was no hint of resistance even, to whether she should or shouldn’t do this. It just seemed right. And the more they smoothed their big male hands over her torso and hips and breasts, the more she was just lost, resigned to live in the moment.

They soon felt like one being.

Jake wasn’t Jake and Carson wasn’t Carson and Bree wasn’t even Bree anymore. Their bodies writhed and rubbed and angled over each other, reminding her of kittens at play; their lean lengths stretched and limber, their actions uninhibited, their passions ready to pop.

A hand slipped between her thighs from the rear. Fingers groped and toyed with her ass. She spread her legs and allowed him access. Her pussy was hot, she could tell, and wet. Her thighs sticky with her nectar. A manly groan from behind her came forth and each of their bodies shifted position. Suddenly, Bree was up on her knees, with strong hands firmly placed just above her hips, holding her steady. She had one man behind her and one in front of her.

Her sense of touch, or near touch, was heightened. She could sense their presence.

The one behind smoothed his hands over her ass and settled himself close. With his mouth, he started at her inner thigh and nibbled his way up toward her core. In the meantime, the other man’s hands took her face into his palms and angled her toward him. A soft something brushed against her cheek…something smooth as velvet.

“Yes,” she told him. “Cock.” She wanted his cock. It didn’t matter if it was Jake or Carson, she wanted a cock her mouth.

Now.

Soon her desire was granted. A firm head of kid-leather soft flesh pushed against her mouth. She parted her lips and curled them over him, taking his head into her wetness. Bracing herself with one hand against the mattress, she grasped him with the other to steady him as she licked. The length and size made her wonder if it was Jake, but she couldn’t be certain, even though she was quite familiar with his organ. Wouldn’t it be lovely if they both had cocks to rival a bull in heat?

What a lucky girl she would be.

That would certainly keep her home nights, wouldn’t it?

She stroked with her tongue, playing over him like she was licking an ice cream cone and had to catch every drip; she circled him, tasting the salty drops of moisture at his tip, and smiled at the fullness he brought to her mouth.

She pulled him deeper into her throat.

Her mouth filled and stretched by him was heavenly. She anticipated that same sensation in other ways and areas of her body, very soon.

Hands went to her head, holding her still, and the cock in her mouth began a slow and sure piston-like motion in and out. She felt the thrusts of his hips, and sensed him as he drew nearer, and then back again from her face.

Behind her, the kisses on her inner thighs were moving closer to her core. Fingers spread her ass cheeks, exploring. Arching her back, she spread her legs a little to allow him easier access. A finger probed her hole and she moaned. He stroked, in and out, and added another finger to fill her vagina. Still nibbling, he worked his way up her leg and sent brief kisses down her crack. His tongue lightly rimmed her asshole, sending a thrill of delight straight through her.

She sucked cock harder.

Licking with broad strokes now, the tongue at her pussy laved over her perineum then slipped inside her vagina. He lanced into her with parries and thrusts…in and out…in and out… She grew lightheaded with over stimulation. Unexpectedly, her labia was caught between his lips and drawn into his mouth. He covered her opening and sucked hard. It was a different feeling, being pulled into him like that.

Bree shuddered. Hard.

Filled with a cock in front, and being teased and toyed with tongue from behind, made her lose all sense of time and place and inhibition. She was lost. And dammit, didn’t care.

“Oh, fuck…”

The sensation of tumbling overtook her and they worked to change positions on the bed. They rolled and she ended up on top of one man, straddling him.

“There,” he said. “Ride me.”

Eager to please and intrigued to find out what next was in store, she mounted her man’s rigid cock and relished in the feel of the over-sized organ in her pussy. “Oh, shit…” she said. “I like that.”

“You’ll like this, too,” came the other voice.

He was patient and that was a good thing. Leaning forward, she braced herself on the broad chest below. The man beneath steadied her with his hands on her forearms. Curling her fingers over his muscled breast, she leisurely moved up and down on his cock. All the while, behind her, her other lover was preparing to fuck her ass.

His fingers where wet, she supposed with lubricant, as he circled and teased at the pucker of her hole.

“Shit,” she heard the curse from behind. “I want inside you.”

Her body responded to his ministrations. Her hole opened and flowered. He probed deeper with a digit and she felt the pressure from inside her vagina. The man beneath her groaned and she lay flat against his chest, her ass up, her mouth poised at a nipple. A strong urge to suck came over her, and so she did, fiddling with this erect nipple.

Fingers threaded through her hair, then wound themselves tightly in her locks, holding her against him.

The deeper the finger in her ass stroked, the faster she rode cock on the man between her legs.

At once, she stilled, when the head of another dick slid down her crack and slipped over her slick perineum. She waited, expecting him to move back up to enter and fill her ass.

He didn’t.

The pushing came lower, where she was already impaled with one huge cock. Thumbs spread her apart. Fingers dipped inside, skimming along the dick that had already claimed her pussy.

“I want in there, too.”

The man beneath her growled and cried out, “Yes…”

The cock behind was dancing over and around the one stroking inside her. He guided his dick with a hand and teased his partner’s cock, as well as her clit and vagina. Both men jerked their bodies with excited thrusts. Bree grew wild with the need for both of them to be inside her at the same time.

At the same freakin’ time.

“Fuck my pussy,” she told them. “I want both your cocks up my cunt.”

With a deep inhale and a primal groan, she felt the poke. The bucking from beneath grew urgent.

The spot near her pelvic bone that gave her so much pleasure was growing engorged and sensitive. The dick that belonged to the man behind her slipped inside a little. The pressure grew.

And then more.

“Oh, God…” she breathed. “Yes.”

Mumbles, groans and small curses answered her.

Cocks rubbed against cocks.

Inside her.

An incredible feeling of fullness, of being stretched as far as she could possibly be stretched, of being filled with the flesh of her lovers, overcame her. She savored the feeling of her two men inside her.

Her two men.

Plenty enough for her. Wherever would there be room for more?

Not in this pussy.

They stroked and she rode. Both cocks filled her, claimed her, and won her over.

Tamed her.

She screamed her release, which ripped across her pelvis unexpectedly. Both men held onto her and continued to stroke until first one, then the other, spilled inside her with shouts and shudders that rivaled the other.

Moments later, sandwiched between them—with her sprawled on top one man and the other laying over her—Bree savored the sweet, sticky mess between her legs and the satisfied and semi-flaccid penises mingling next to her pussy. And smiled.

Reaching up, she pulled the blindfold away from her eyes and met Jake’s languid grin. Carson gathered her hair back over her shoulder and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek.

“We’ll take care of you, Bree. For always. All you have to do is say yes.”

It didn’t take her long to respond. “Green.”

Both men chuckled.

“I love you guys,” she said then, in a soft, slumber-like voice. “Merry Christmas.”

What she got back were contented sighs as they wrapped her up like a present between them and held her tight.

Epilogue

“So, what’s the plan for today?”

Bree looked down at her Blackberry and punched the button to bring up her calendar. “I have a 10 a.m. appointment to show a condo downtown, and then a two o’clock this afternoon out on the west end of town. I’m good for lunch. That what you are thinking?”

“Maybe.” Carson poured himself another cup of coffee and took a small sip. “Ah, nothing like caffeine to get the creative juices going.”

Bree frowned. “Oh, well that answers that question.”

“What?”

She chuckled. “If your muse is nipping at you today, you’re not going to leave that studio to come buy me lunch.” Picking up her briefcase and purse, she moved toward him. “Let’s do a rain check.”

“You’re sure?” he asked. “I hate to disappoint my baby girl.”

She gave him a quick peck on the lips. “You never disappoint me, big boy.” Tossing him a saucy smile, she chucked him on the cheek. “I need to get going.”

She turned and he spanked her on the ass. Squealing, she headed for the door, just as Jake entered.

“Casual day at the office?”

Shaking his head, he replied, “Actually, I was thinking of working at home today.”

“Oh good.” Stepping toward him, she brushed a stray hair off his white t-shirt. God, she loved that jet black mane. “Sounds like a plan. You’ve been working way too late the past few nights, so take it easy, okay? Take a nap or something.”

Yawning, Jake put the back of his hand to his mouth. “I like that idea.”

“Good. Well, I need to scoot.”

“Drive safe, love.”

“Of course.” She headed for the door then tossed her long mane and a sultry come-hither glance over her shoulder. “You boys be good while I’m gone today, okay? But if you’re not, be sure to think of me, you hear?”

She left them with an air kiss, a little finger wave, and what she hoped, was the tempting sashay of her ass.

Oh, they would think of her. She could guarantee it.

About the Author

Mia is a Midwest girl who always had a thing for travel. Growing up in the middle of the country was one thing but for some reason, she always longed to be "on the edge." Living on the edge meant leaving home for sand and surf on both coasts (she's partial to North Carolina and San Diego beaches) and a stint living in New Orleans, pre-Katrina. Living on the fringes of the country seems to nicely parallel how she's lived her life. No regrets. Always looking forward. Take a risk or two. Just like the characters in her books. Bold, sassy, sexy, sophisticated, and erotic... and experiencing life to the fringes.

Website   http://www.miajae.com

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