Scarlet (10 page)

Paxson felt his eyes roll toward the back of his head as she
leaned in and placed hot, sexy kisses down the length of his throat.

“Do you taste as good everywhere?” she asked, her throaty
whisper making his cock leap.

He shook his head and tried to back up but Cain was there.
Paxson shifted, sliding Heather away from his body, turning just a bit so he
could face Cain.

“You’re okay with this?” He couldn’t believe Cain wasn’t
furious.

“I’ll admit it took me a few minutes to get used to the
idea.” He paused and Paxson could feel the tension radiating from Cain’s body.

Heather backed up. “I’ll be right back.” She stepped away,
her sexy body bare except for those tiny red panties. “I’ll let you two discuss
this.” She took a breath then offered a weak smile. “Just remember my wardrobe
is at stake here.”

She spun away and disappeared into the bathroom.

“What did she mean by that? And how can you think this is a
good idea?” Paxson demanded.

“Something about her clothes disintegrating. I don’t know.
And when she came to me, my first reaction was just what yours is. Then I
realized it had potential to be incredibly sexy.” The strain didn’t release
from Cain’s muscles. Something wasn’t right. Then Cain sighed. “What the hell.
I decided it might be the chance to get you to finally fuck me.”

Paxson blinked and stared at Cain, sure he couldn’t have
heard his friend correctly.

“Don’t worry.” Cain patted Paxson’s shoulder. “No pressure.”

Paxson blinked again, holding his eyes closed for a moment
before looking at one of his best friends. “You want me to fuck you?”

“What can I say? You’re freakin’ gorgeous and if you weren’t
such a boy scout, I would have had you drunk and naked long before this.”

“That’s what all those nights out were about? Did you even
want to be with those women?”

“Oh, yeah. I still love women, love to fuck them but
sometimes…” He paused. “I just want a hard cock inside me.”

Paxson slumped against the window and let his mind race
through all the possibilities. First Heather, then Cain. He wasn’t sure he
could do it. But as he stood there, pictures started to form in his
brain—Heather’s head thrown back in passion, Paxson kneeling over her, pounding
his cock into her passage.

He’d imagined it enough times in the past week. And now,
here was his chance.

But Cain would be there as well, wanting his cock. His dick
gave a little twitch at the idea. Paxson wasn’t sure if it was the idea of
fucking Cain or just the combination of the pictures in his mind and the
interest in Cain’s eyes.

Could he really fuck Cain? Did he want to? Hoping to keep
his movements subtle, he looked at his friend. Without lifting his head, all he
could see was Cain, from the waist down. The guy’s hard-on was clearly pressing
against his jeans.

Am I really considering this?

Before he could find an answer, Cain turned around, placing
his back to Paxson. He wiggled his butt as if tempting his friend.

Paxson couldn’t stop his chuckle.

“I get it. You have a nice ass.”

“I have a great ass,” Cain corrected. He turned back around.
Paxson looked up and met his stare. The light in Cain’s dark eyes was serious
and sincere. “No pressure. We don’t have to do anything.”

“Except fuck me!” Heather called from the bathroom.

Despite the freakin’ weird situation, Paxson couldn’t help
but huff out a laugh.

Heather poked her head out around the corner. “It seems to
be a condition of the dress.”

“Fucking you.”

“Yes.”

She walked into the room. She’d put on a t-shirt but it
stopped at the tops of her thighs and with every step he could see the bright
red panties that so captured his attention, making him imagine dragging them
off with his teeth.

“So, if the dress didn’t make you do this, you wouldn’t be
here.” The idea that she was being forced into this by some magical wedding
gown didn’t sit well.

And now Cain wanted Pax to fuck him? It was too much.

Pressure built in Paxson’s chest. He shook his head.

“I’m sorry. I can’t. I—” He stalked to the door. “I just
can’t.”

The door closed behind him. Heather sighed and looked at
Cain.

“Well, that could have gone better.”

Cain nodded. His lips squished together as he stared at the
shut door.

“Well?” she prompted when he didn’t speak.

“I’ve got a plan.” He leaned back and looked down at her.
“How do you feel about leather?”

Chapter Seven

Dear Diary,

I completely screwed this up. Not only did Paxson not
stay, now I think I’ve messed up Cain’s friendship with him.

Stupid dress.

Paxson looked at the box on his desk and sighed. It was from
Cain. He knew that. Even if the pretty little bartender who’d delivered it
hadn’t told him, he would have known. For the past three years, on this day,
Cain had sent him a similar package. Every year, Paxson opened it, had a good
laugh, then ignored it.

After last night, he wasn’t sure Cain was speaking to him.
He’d expected a call, or several, from his friend either demanding to know why
he’d denied them both the pleasure of fucking Heather.

Or apologizing for the whole situation.

He
hadn’t
expected Cain to just ignore that it had
ever happened.

Of course, that was what Pax was planning on doing but
avoidance was part of his nature. Cain faced things like this head-on.

When Paxson had run into Cain at the gym this morning, Cain
had smiled, chatted. No mention of Heather or the offer to fuck Cain.

If it hadn’t been so outside his realm of reality, Paxson
might have thought he’d dreamed it up. But never in his wildest imagination
could he have come up with Heather, a cursed wedding dress and Cain saying he
liked to be fucked.

Paxson’s cock gave a little leap. Damn. He’d never thought
about fucking Cain before. He’d never thought about fucking any guy. Hadn’t
even considered the possibility. But now that the idea had been planted in his
brain, he couldn’t quite shake it. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about it,
but the images of him and Cain and Heather had run through his head all night
and suddenly the thought of fucking another man didn’t seem completely foreign
to him.

It was Cain after all. And if Cain wanted it…

Heather could help and—

Paxson shook his head to snap himself out of the too tempting
fantasy. Heather didn’t really want him. She wanted Cain. She needed Pax
because of some stupid curse. Which he wasn’t sure he even believed. She
probably had a secret zipper or something in the dress that made it fall off.

Not that he hadn’t appreciated the sight. Damn she had a
sweet body. Long legs just made to wrap around a man’s waist. Nicely curved ass
and breasts that would fit perfectly in the palm of his hand.

Lightheaded—probably from all the blood rushing to his
cock—Paxson attempted to push the pretty pictures out of his mind.
Unfortunately, even as he tried to nudge them away, Cain entered the image.
Wrapping his arm around Heather’s waist, pulling her back against his body.

Cain’s hand slipped up, cupping her breast, squeezing. He
raised his head and flashed Pax a smile. Fuck, Pax knew that smile. It meant
Cain was going to fuck the woman. And no doubt leave her begging for more.

He gave himself a shake, pulled his spine straight and
cleared his mind.

Sighing again, Paxson flipped open the box. Black leather
lay draped across the bottom. Damn, he didn’t want to think about how much this
cost Cain.

A ticket to tonight’s Fetish Ball sat on top along with a
note.

“Tonight. Nine p.m. We’ll be waiting.”

We’ll be waiting. Not I’ll be waiting. We…

Fuck. They were both going to be there.

Of course, Pax could do what he always did—return the
clothes and spend the night
anywhere
but in the hotel. But shit—if Cain
was sending him black leather, what the hell would Heather be wearing tonight?

Images of the sexy redhead wearing nothing but a collar and
smile made his cock even harder. Biting back a groan, he reached into the box
and pulled out the leather trousers.

Damn, I’m not really considering this, am I?
Because
he knew that if he showed up in that ballroom, Heather and Cain would see it as
Pax’s agreement to fuck them. Both of them.

He reached for the fly of his trousers.

That leather’s going to be awfully hard to fit over my cock,
he thought. He considered slipping into his private bathroom and jerking off,
but decided against it. The party had started an hour ago and even if he left
right now, he’d be fifteen minutes past Cain’s nine o’clock deadline.

And what the hell? The party was all about sex. Having a
hard cock was probably a requirement.

A tingle of anticipation he wasn’t quite expecting ran down
his spine as he pulled on the leather pants Cain had sent over. Somehow Cain
knew Pax’s size and the leather slid on easily—not too tight but no sagging
either. He ran his fingers across the butter-soft material and tried not to
groan.

This was all a little out of his comfort zone—“a little too
vanilla” was how Cain described him—but the leather did give him a thrill.

He looked in the box and grabbed the smaller box inside,
expecting a shirt of some sort. Instead it contained a mask and a strip of
condoms. No shirt.

“Oh hell no.”

* * * * *

“He’s not coming.”

“Give him time.”

Heather sighed and crossed her arms over her almost bare
chest. The outfit was a risk. Her clothes were still popping off her like
rubber bands. The likelihood that she would end up topless at some point
tonight was extremely high.

Cain had selected her outfit—a top that was a demi-bra
corset, pushing her breasts up and almost out. The tight boning pulled in at
the waist giving her an hourglass figure she’d never have on her own. And a
“skirt” that was only five inches long from waist to hem. It didn’t cover her
ass, and barely covered her pussy.

The only thing that kept her from feeling completely exposed
was the red panties she wore underneath. They added a bit of color and
temptation to the outfit.

A leather collar around her neck completed the look. She’d
pulled her hair up into a high tumble of curls. Cain said she looked like a
goddess.

In her mind, she looked like a slut, but she was willing to
go along with Cain’s assessment. She was trusting him a lot here.

After Paxson had stormed out last night, Cain had said the
same words he’d said tonight, “Give him time.”

According to Cain, now that they’d planted the idea in
Paxson’s head, he was more likely to accept the possibility of fucking them.
And the Fetish Ball gave them a perfect chance to do things with the veil of
anonymity.

Not that Pax wouldn’t be able to recognize them immediately.
The thin black masks she and Cain wore barely went across their eyes.

And Cain wasn’t wearing much else. He’d gone for a Roman
slave kind of look, tiny black leather shorts, black sandals and, like her, a
collar. He’d tied back his hair, the thick ponytail hanging long down his back.
It made him look young. Heather reached out and brushed her fingers along the
blunt line across the bottom. The heavy hair caressed the back of her hand even
as her fingertips skimmed across his skin.

Cain flashed her a smile, his eyes pulling away from the
door for just a moment.

“Don’t worry. He’ll be here.”

“But will he want me?” She hated the desperate tone to her
voice. The pain at his rejection quickly turned to irritation and she whipped
her hair back away from her face and rose to her full height. “He didn’t want
me last night. I doubt anything will have changed.”

Cain shook his head and for once she didn’t see a hint of
amusement in his stare. “Are you kidding? The only thing that stopped Pax from
fucking you into the mattress last night is this overdeveloped sense of
nobility. He’s afraid of stealing my woman and afraid of taking advantage of
you.”

“What if I want him to take advantage?” she groused. This
time, Cain grinned.

“That’s why we’re here. Besides…” He paused and his grin
turned into a sad smile. “I think if I hadn’t brought up the whole ‘fuck me,
too’ thing, he would have been fine.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It was my choice.”

Sympathy swelled in her chest and temporarily pushed out her
own worries. She gave his hand a squeeze, trying to provide a little comfort.

Cain glanced at the doorway and pushed away from the wall.

“He’s here.”

“What?” Heather’s head snapped around and she looked toward
the ballroom door. They’d been standing in the shadows nearby, not wanting to
miss his entrance and Heather was immediately glad that she hadn’t.

Pax walked in wearing nothing but leather pants and a mask.
The lovely muscles of his bare chest curved perfectly down into the cut lines
of his abs.

Heather licked her lips, imagining running her tongue over
those tight ripples.

“Oh sweet heaven.”

“Yeah.” Cain put his hand on her ass, nudging her forward.
“Not really sure where he got the whip, though.”

She squeaked, her eyes dropping to the thin black crop in
Paxson’s left hand.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” she said, her words
strangely breathless.

But her feet kept moving forward. With the way the other
women—and men—were staring at Paxson, they needed to get to him fast and stake
their claim.

As if Paxson sensed their arrival, he turned toward them.
The hard line of his lips gave Heather no comfort. She and Cain pulled to a
stop in front of Paxson. He looked at them. They were all pretty close in
height, especially with Heather wearing her five-inch heels.

Paxson’s gaze did a slow wander down their bodies, first Cain,
in the tight leather shorts and collar. Paxson’s face revealed nothing and
Heather could feel Cain tensing.

The big man’s stare shifted to Heather and she straightened.
The movement pushed her breasts forward. Paxson did another slow perusal, his
gaze pausing at her chest, her breasts aching as he stared, and again at the
place where her skirt met her thighs. She hoped the red from her panties wasn’t
visible. Cain had assured her the look was sexy—not trashy—and she really
wanted to believe him.

His eyes didn’t stop. They continued down her legs to the
red shoes she wore. Somehow Cain had managed to find a scarlet corset that
perfectly matched the color of her shoes and her panties. Her knees trembled.
Not because she was worried about how she looked—but concerned about Paxson’s
reaction.

Would he turn around and walk out?

This had started as a way to break the curse but the truth
was, she wanted him. Deny it as much as she wanted, she knew her heart would
break a little if he walked away.

Paxson took a breath. Heather and Cain looked amazing. He
didn’t know how Heather could breathe in that top. Her breasts looked squeezed
and pushed and just about ready to pop out. The front was so low he was sure
with one deep breath, he could see her nipples.

And Cain—fuck, even Cain looked good. Paxson had never
allowed himself to look at another man sexually, but with Cain’s comment last
night, he’d had to.

Pax licked his lips, not sure what to say, not sure where to
go next.

Like he always did in these situations, he looked to Cain.

Cain’s eyes lit with understanding and maybe just a hint of
laughter. But then Cain always seemed to be laughing at someone.

Still not knowing what to say, Pax crossed his arms over his
chest, the riding crop he’d snagged from the “confiscated items” locker
clutched in his left hand.

“Well?” he demanded.

Cain’s grin grew wider.

“How may we serve you…Master?”

Damn, Paxson had never really gotten into this whole
bondage-submission thing but his cock twitched when Pax thought about all the
ways both of them could serve him.

He stared for a second then dragged his gaze back to
Heather. She hesitated then lifted her chin, tossing her long thick red hair
back over her shoulder. The movement strained the top of her corset and Paxson
practically drooled, imagining sliding his tongue along the valley between her
breasts. She stepped closer and pushed up onto her tiptoes, tilting into him.

“Yes,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear, the
sound going straight to Pax’s balls. “We’d love to serve you.”

His throat tightened and he forced himself to swallow, his
mind slowly catching up with his current reality.

“Why don’t we start with a drink?” Cain suggested, grabbing
Paxson by the arm and pulling him toward the dark corner.

Paxson latched onto the idea. “Yes. A drink would be good.”

“What do you want?”

“I don’t care.”

Cain handed Heather a credit card—though where the hell he’d
had space to put it in those shorts Pax didn’t know—and said, “Tami’s working
the bar over there.” He pointed to the far side of the ballroom. “Tell her it’s
for me. Get us both double shots of tequila and whatever you want.”

Her lips pursed together and her eyes flared open for just a
moment. No, this woman did not like to be told what to do. But finally she
nodded, spun around on those wicked heels and stalked away.

As she disappeared into the crowd, Cain turned his back to
the wall, grabbed Paxson by the belt loops and pulled him close. Pax slammed
his hands against the wall, stopping his forward momentum, and effectively
cutting them off from the rest of the room.

He stared down at his friend. Cain was only a couple inches
shorter than Pax but for some reason, he felt like he towered over the guy
right now.

“You okay?” Cain asked. It was a normal Cain voice. There
was no seduction or sex in it. But Cain hadn’t released him either. His thumbs
held onto the belt loops while his fingers rested on Paxson’s hips.

Pax took a deep breath and analyzed the sensation of Cain
touching him. It didn’t make him squirm. Kind of made him wonder what those
fingers would feel like around his cock.

“I think so.”

“Well, Heather’s a little freaked out, so be nice to her.”

Heather’s
a little freaked out?
Paxson managed to
keep the words in his throat. After all, she’d been the one to suggest the
threesome in the first place.