Scarlet (8 page)

“Well, yes. I guess.”

She sighed and stopped, leaning her hip against his desk.
“I’m not feeling it here, Paxson, right?”

“Right.”

“Is the outfit sexy? Does it make you want to rip it off and
fuck me into next week?”

Paxson looked directly at her. “No.”

She stood straight up, the shoulders back but this time, she
wasn’t trying to show off her tits. Tension tightened the tiny muscles at the
corners of her eyes.

“No?” The single word vibrated with barely restrained anger.

It was Paxson’s turn to play.

“No.” He paused. “The outfit’s nice but I’ve seen you naked.
And
that’s
what would make me want to fuck you into next week.” He
tapped his fingers on his desk. “But, I have some work to do, so—”

He let the words hang.

Heather stood there for a long moment, her mouth a little
open, the tightness at the edges of her eyes getting deeper with each passing
heartbeat.

“I’ll leave you to it then.”

Her gaze dipped down and all Pax could do was hope his
hard-on wasn’t too obvious. From the little hitch upward of her mouth, he could
only surmise that it was, damn it.

She turned away and walked to where her bags lay on his
floor. The sexy flip-swish of her hips drew his attention so he was already
watching her ass when she leaned over and picked up the packages. She bent one
knee, just enough to make her butt look sweet and round and damn it, he knew
she was doing it on purpose but there was no way he could look away. Finally
she straightened, once again tossing her hair back away from her face.

She clutched all the bags in one hand and glared at the
dress. For a moment, it looked like she might kick it but instead she sighed,
picked it up and hung it over her arm.

“Thanks for the help,” she said. “And for giving me a place
to get dressed.” She sauntered to the door and looked back over her shoulder.
“Maybe I’ll see you around some time.”

He nodded but didn’t speak. Hell, he was afraid to open his
mouth, worried that he might drool on his desk.

The door closed behind her and Paxson sank down into his
chair.

Damn. Just damn
.

* * * * *

Heather stepped into the casino, the noise from the slot
machines bombarding her senses. She felt a little guilty about teasing the sexy
security guard. He’d done everything in his power not to look at her when she’d
been mostly naked.

And he’d actually blushed.

She knew he’d been interested. The front of his trousers had
told her that—well, and so had he.
I’ve seen you naked. And
that’s
what
would make me want to fuck you into next week.

Her pussy quivered and she pressed her lips together to hold
back a moan. Between Cain last night—and this morning—her body had no business
being interested in sex. She’d had sex. Great sex. And would likely have more
later, after Cain finished his shift.

Still, the thought of Paxson, that tough-guy, nice-guy
combination just made her want to climb his body like a jungle gym.

She shuffled the fluffy gown into her other hand. She’d have
left the damn thing on the office floor except she knew Tasha would have a fit.
For some reason, the girl wanted this dress.

Why? Heather couldn’t figure it out. The damn thing was
cursed. She sighed.
There.
She’d admitted it. It was cursed and only
fell off for—

Wait. It had fallen off for Cain
and
Paxson. Unless
Paxson had been lying and Cain had been under the desk. Which seemed unlikely.

Wow. Cait was right. The dress did fall off for more than
one guy. So maybe it wasn’t your “true love” barometer. Maybe it was a “hot
sex” sensor.

She bit her lip and stared at the security office door. She
could just imagine—hell, she
had
been imagining—Paxson in bed. Strong,
powerful, demanding.
Oh yeah. A little flirtation couldn’t hurt anyone,
right?

Maybe he’s taken, her snippy conscience pointed out.
Maybe
you just flashed your tits at a nice, loyal man.
The minor guilt trip
mutated into a full-on voyage.

Crap.

He’d done everything in his power to be polite. She should
apologize, tell him she was only teasing. As she turned around, the strap of
her purse vibrated. She slipped between the rows of slot machines and dropped
her bags on the chair before digging through her purse and finding her phone
buzzing at the bottom.

Aunt Katherine.

Tasha’s mother, finally calling her back.

She tapped on the phone’s screen and answered the call.

“Aunt K, hi! How’s your cruise?”

Joyous laughter tinkled through the phone. “Fantastic. Just
amazing.”

“I’m jealous.”

“Well, I’ll tell you all about it when I get home. We’re
heading back to the ship and we’ll have no cell coverage but I wanted to call.
Tasha said you had a question about the wedding dress?”

Oh right.
“Yes, but never mind. It’s worked itself
out.”

“You got the dress off?” Aunt K didn’t sound convinced.

“Sort of.”

Her aunt chuckled. “So that’s how it is. You met Mr. Right.”
The words held the tone of experience, good, sexy experience.

“Sort of,” she hedged again.

Ominous silence echoed through the phone. “What does that
mean?” Tension shimmered through the words.

“It isn’t Mr. Right,” Heather blurted out. “More like, Mr.
Right and his cousin, Mr. Sexy.”

“Oh dear.” The tone changed, concern tainting her aunt’s
voice. The phone line crackled. “But the dress did fall off?”

“Yes.”

“For how many men?”

“Just two. So far. But don’t worry. I’ve got the dress off
and I’m done. I’m heading home in a few days and this will all be a wonderful
memory.” She felt her cheeks grow warm. This wasn’t the sort of discussion she
normally had with her aunt.

She heard a male voice in the background. It sounded like
Aunt K’s husband.

“Two.” The word was muffled as if Aunt K was trying to cover
the speaker. “I can’t tell her that.”

“Aunt K?”

“What? Oh, sorry. Nick was just talking to me. You were
saying about the men who made the dress fall off? You couldn’t have been
confused?”

“Not likely. Two separate occasions. Two different men.”
Silence again, prompting Heather to say, “Aunt K?”

Silence, then, “Pursue both men.”

“What? You’re cutting out.”

“The dress seems to…two men and you need to…”

“What?”

“Just don’t ignore the dress. Bad things happen if you do.”

“Wait? What bad things?” There was no response. “Break a
nail bad or zombie apocalypse bad?” she shouted into the phone

No answer and seconds later she heard three beeps in her
ear. Damn, she knew that sound.
Call failed.

She tried to redial her aunt but it went straight to
voicemail.

Don’t ignore the dress? What kind of advice is that? The
dress thinks I should be sleeping with two men.

She paused.

Like Cait is. And Cait seems pretty dang happy.

But
she’d
known both guys before they hooked up. What
was Heather supposed to do? Throw herself at Paxson? Tell him and Cain they
needed to fuck her because of a cursed wedding dress?

They already thought she was a little nuts. No. She was
going to stick to the original plan. She was out of the dress and that was all
that mattered.

She was going to relax and enjoy the rest of her trip.

Chapter Six

Dear Diary,

Seriously? I mean, seriously?

Heather was ready to scream. Three days.
Three days
since she’d gotten out of that stupid, ugly, freakin’ cursed wedding dress. She
couldn’t take it anymore.

Not that she hadn’t done a bit of screaming in the last
three nights, nights she’d spent with Cain. There had been screams, moans,
groans and dozens of “oh my God!” sounds. Hmm, for a woman
averaging
two
orgasms a day, not bad.

No, that part was good and she kind of liked that type of
screaming.

But the frustrated, “I’m going to pull my hair out” noises
that threatened weren’t so pleasant.

The damn dress was going to be the end of her.

No. She was a better woman than this. She wasn’t going to
let some stupid cursed wedding dress beat her.

Heather pushed her shoulders back, focused on her prey.

Paxson walked out of the security office, paused,
straightened his jacket and turned left. She’d learned his patterns in the past
two days. And tried to convince herself that just because she knew he’d circle
the casino twice before going to the sandwich bar for lunch—and order a hot
turkey sandwich on a multi-grain bun—that didn’t mean she was a stalker.

She wasn’t. What she was, was desperate.

She should have heeded her aunt’s warning.
Don’t ignore
the dress.

Somehow that translated into “sleep with Paxson or else”.

Only Paxson wasn’t reacting like a normal man. No matter
what she did—short of throwing herself naked across his desk—she couldn’t
seduce the man. They’d had coffee after she’d “accidentally” run into him that
day after Aunt K’s call.

From that conversation and subsequent others—because, let’s
face it, she was stalking him—Heather knew Paxson was straight and discovered
he wasn’t seeing anyone.

And she knew he was interested. He’d done a pretty good job
of hiding his erection but she was pretty damn sure that fascinating bulge in
his pants was for her.

Why couldn’t she even get him to kiss her?

It was becoming a serious problem. Aunt K hadn’t been
kidding when she’d said, “don’t ignore the dress.”

On the scale of broken nail to zombie apocalypse, it was
about halfway in the middle, leaning a little closer to broken nail because she
hadn’t actually needed to behead anyone yet.

Though sometimes she wanted to.

If she didn’t do something soon, she was going to be naked.
Again.

She looped around to the far side of the casino, hiding
behind a row of penny slots as Paxson passed by. He liked to check the casino
floor several times a day and it gave employees a chance to talk to him, bring
up any concerns. She’d learned that yesterday at lunch.

Unable to resist, she peeked out as he walked away. The suit
he wore didn’t reveal much of his body but just the shape and the powerful way
he carried himself gave her a pretty good picture of the muscles underneath. A
hot wave rushed across her skin and settled into her core.

For the past three nights, she’d met Cain—either for dinner
or drinks—and each night they’d ended up in Heather’s room. She’d learned a
couple of things about Cain as well—he wasn’t as shallow as she’d originally
thought. He cheered for the Diamondbacks. Loved his job and could make love for
most of the night—leaving her a quivering pile of satisfied female. Hell, the
box of condoms he’d brought was almost gone.

But still, when she saw Paxson, she wanted him. Too.

Not instead of Cain but along with Cain.

She waited for Paxson’s second circuit then wandered into
the main walkway, keeping her head down, faking that she was texting as she
stepped into his path.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Her head snapped up and she smiled at
Paxson. “Oh hi.”

The edge of his mouth pulled up in a half-smile. Damn, she
wasn’t fooling him. But who cared? She didn’t have time to waste. She was down
to two outfits.

“Heather, what a surprise to see you again.”

“It’s not really, is it?”

“You’re not very sneaky. I saw you hiding there the first
time around.”

“I guess I’ll have to give up my dream of becoming a secret
agent. Want to have lunch?”
Want to go upstairs and have wild and wicked
sex? Pleeeeease.

This time his smile was real. They walked to the sandwich
shop. The guy behind the counter rang up Paxson’s order without even asking,
then looked at Heather. She’d had the turkey on day one—trying to bond with
Paxson—the veggie wrap yesterday and today she went for the spicy beef.

They got their meals and sat down.

“So, where’s Cain?” Paxson asked as he opened his bag of
chips. Heather tensed, not sure where this was going. “He wasn’t free for
lunch?”

Heather shrugged. “He might have been.” She could only think
Paxson was letting her know that he knew about her and Cain. No need not to be
honest. “I’m meeting him for dinner later.”

“Busy girl.”

“Want to join us?”

“You and Cain?” He cleared his throat. “Uh, no.”

The idea of her, Cain and Pax had developed into a full-blown
fantasy over the past three days. Maybe she needed Cain’s assistance with this.

“Are you sure?” She smiled, flirting hard. “I would be lots
of fun.”

His cheeks turned red but his sat up even straighter.

She tipped her head to the side. “Is there something wrong?”

He shrugged and shook his head but she could tell he didn’t
mean it so she waited. She’d learned during the first lunch that she had to
wait, give him a moment to process and respond.

“I’m just not sure what’s going on here. You’re sleeping
with Cain.”

She nodded, because well, Paxson knew the truth.

“And you’re flirting with me.”

It was her turn to shrug. “I like you. And I like Cain.”

“So you want us both?”

You have no idea.

“Well—”

Paxson shook his head. “No. I like you but Cain’s my friend
and I’m not going to do that to him.”

“But—”

Paxson scooped up his lunch. “I’m going to head back to the
office. I’ve got some work to get done.”

Before she could eke out another protest, he was gone.

Now, what the hell was she going to do?

* * * * *

Cain sat in the corner of the bar, looking gorgeous as he
waited for Heather.

Her lunch with Paxson had not gone as planned. Damn it.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if she didn’t like Paxson. He
was the opposite of Cain, but combined, they made the perfect man. Paxson was
quiet, thoughtful, serious. Yesterday, they’d dragged lunch into almost three
hours, so caught in the conversation she hadn’t noticed time passing until her
bladder screamed she needed to go.

With Cain they did a little less talking but it wasn’t as if
it was all sex. They had sex—a lot of sex—but they connected in other ways.

Still, it felt as if something was missing when she was with
Cain.

She knew what was missing with Paxson—the sex!

She’d tried calling Cait for advice—after all, the woman was
sleeping with two men already—but her friend had just giggled and sighed,
rhapsodizing that it was truly amazing. More information Heather didn’t need if
she couldn’t make it happen.

So she turned to the only person who could help—Cain.

She smiled as she walked up to the table. He stood, took her
hand and pulled her close for a quick, sexual kiss. For a brief lip-lock, it
made her pussy tremble.

Oh, yeah. Definitely not getting rid of this one. Not yet
anyway. God, with him as my lover, I don’t need anyone else.

She sat down in the chair across from him and felt the
zipper at the back of her skirt split open.

Oh wait. That’s right. The curse.

“What’s wrong?” Cain asked, a curious smile bending his
lips.

“What? Oh nothing. Problem with my skirt.”

He chuckled. “You have problems with a lot of your clothes.”

“You have no idea,” she muttered. “Listen, I have a bit of a
situation and I need your help.”

She laid the whole thing out for him and sat back, watching
as understanding filled Cain’s eyes.

“You want my permission to fuck Paxson?”

“No.” She waved away the question. “I want you to help me.”

“Help you?” He sat back, stretching his legs out long. He
looked relaxed and casual but the hard glint in his eye told a different story.
Well, she’d known this wouldn’t be easy.

“Yes.”

“Help you how?”

“Seduce him!” she blurted out.

“I’m really not sure I’m the person—being that I’m the man
you’re currently sleeping with—to complain that you can’t get my best friend to
fuck you. Not that we ever said this was exclusive.”

Heather rolled her eyes. They both knew what
this
was—a vacation fling.

“But still, kind of tacky to try to seduce my best friend
and then complain to me about it when it doesn’t work.”

“You don’t think I know that? I’m desperate here. In a few
days, I’m not going to have anything to wear.”

“What?”

She sighed. In the past three days, she’d gotten a glimpse
of what her aunt had called “bad”. Minor stuff really, but it was building.
Every piece of clothing she’d bought at the mall, with the exception of the
extra scarlet panties she’d purchased to restock her dwindling supply, had an
issue that made it practically unwearable. The zipper in one skirt broke. The
seam in another ripped. She was going to have to resort to that hideous wedding
dress just to have something to wear.

No. Never again. I am never putting that dress on again.

Heather took a breath and prepared for the explanation.
“Listen, it all starts with that wedding dress.”

She told him about the dress, the curse, Cait and her men
and ended with Heather appearing in the casino.

“You know the rest from there.”

“So because some magical dress decided Paxson and I are your
‘true loves’, you think I should help you fuck him.”

“Wow, when you describe it like that, it sounds a little
Disney, you know…until you get to the fucking part. And yes, I need your help.
I’ve tried over the past three days and I can’t even get the man to kiss me.”

The left side of his mouth pulled up in a smirk. “Maybe he’s
just not that into you?”

She glared.

“Then we’ll find out, huh?”

Cain shook his head but she could see him actually
considering the idea.

She leaned closer, holding his gaze and dropping her voice.
“Doesn’t the idea interest you at all?”

“Helping you fuck Paxson.”

“No, the three of us. Together. You and me
and
Paxson.” His expression didn’t change. “Think about it. I’d be naked, on the
bed on all fours…” She let the words trail away, implanting the idea in his
mind.

Something wicked sparked in Cain’s eyes. She leaned forward
and kept her gaze locked on his. She’d thought about it a lot in the past three
days and more and more the idea seemed delicious and totally doable.

Cain obviously found the idea intriguing as well.

“You’d be behind me, fucking me while Paxson—”

Hunger flashed in Cain’s gaze.

“Something about that made you hot,” she accused.

He shrugged but the motion was more tense than casual. “You
know I like your ass. I’ve demonstrated that enough times in the past few
days.”

He was right. He’d taken her several times from behind,
whispering how much he loved having her ass pressed against him. But the
vibration beneath his words told her that wasn’t all.

“You want to watch Paxson fuck me?”

Again the telltale clenching of his jaw. She was close, but
not quite on point. She flipped through all possible options and gasped.

“You want Paxson to fuck you.”

His mouth opened and she waited for the masculine denial but
the words seemed caught at the back of his throat. His gaze dropped to the
carpet.

“You’re gay?”

He glowered at her. “I’ve been fucking you for the past
three nights and you ask that?”

She shrugged. “Well—”

Cain shook his head. “No. I guess if you have to call me
anything you’d say I was ‘bi’.”

Her grin widened as she pictured Cain and Paxson—hard,
strong bodies, moving together, pumping deep. All that lovely male flesh.
Yummy.

Her pussy clenched.

“I think it’s an amazing idea…as long as I can watch.”

Cain’s head snapped up, his eyes cautious. “You’re serious?”

“You wouldn’t leave me out of it, would you?”

“Hell no.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “I was thinking
I could lick your sweet cunt while he fucks my ass.”

Heat rushed into her pussy, the images filling her brain.
“Have you guys done this before?”

Cain grimaced. “No. Every time I’ve tried to get him to join
in, he backs off. But he wants you.”

They both settled back in their chairs. Heather’s mind raced
through the possibilities. She could see the same thoughts churning through
Cain’s brain.

“This is kind of insane. You know that, right?” She felt
compelled to point out.

“It’s your idea.”

“I know but I wanted you to know that I do realize the
insanity of it all.”

“Good to know because I could lose a good friend.”

“Or gain an incredible lover.”

Cain nodded again.

He stood up, reached into his pocket and pulled out his
phone. He tapped the screen and as he walked away she heard, “Pax, where you
at, man? We need to talk.”

* * * * *

Her heart pounded in her chest as she fingered her
wineglass. She took little sips, hoping to make it last, drawing it out as she
waited for Cain to arrive. He’d sent her a text earlier to meet him here about
nine. She didn’t know if he’d managed to convince Paxson or not.

Flutters filled her tummy.