FIVE-SECOND SEDUCTION (3 page)

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Authors: Myla Jackson

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BOOK: FIVE-SECOND SEDUCTION
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Squaring her shoulders and sparing a last glance at her plumped cleavage, Charli grabbed a tray and started for the table.

The music on the juke box ended and a new song started, the tune Charli knew all too well. The song that gave every woman hope and filled her with the promise of finding that someone who touched her heart.

Charli groaned and turned back to the bar, biting down on her bottom lip. Should she ignore the music or go for it?

Libby held out a microphone in her direction.

"Really? This song?" Charli set the tray on the wooden bar and snatched the mic from Libby, her heartbeat kicking up a notch, knowing the words as if they had been etched in her brain for all of eternity. The song sung by one of country music's most talented artists. How could Charli, a nobody from Temptation, Texas, begin to measure up? And if she fell short? What if Connor was a big fan of the real artist? What if he didn't like Charli's version?

Self-doubt reared its nasty head, and Charli almost ran from the bar. But the music played on and her need to sing the lyrics made her mouth open. The dance floor cleared and a path opened, allowing her through to the center, directly in front of the table where Connor and his friends sat.

The man next to Connor's whistled at Charli and patted his lap.

Connor glared at him and scooted his chair closer to where Charli stood, giving her his complete attention.

Heat spread through Charli's body. Her voice started out soft, the words filling her, so tender, so gentle, swelling to the refrain. In just a few moments, she stood in the middle of the dance floor, her gaze on Connor, music swirling all around her. She sang the song to him, about him, for him. Her gaze captured his and her chest tightened, the words flowing as if from her heart to his.

When the music ended, another song followed on the juke box and couples moved out onto the dance floor.

Charli stood in a trance, her gaze locked on Connor, unable to form a coherent thought except how much she wanted him to take her in his arms and love her like the lyrics in the song. But Jackson said men were simple. Would Connor get that she'd just poured out her feelings for him, and everyone else, to see? Suddenly, she felt exposed, more so than the stupid vest and bra could begin to reveal. She'd laid open her heart and soul. As fear, embarrassment and emotion welled up inside, Charli's muscles bunched to run.

Then Connor stood, his smoky gaze unfathomable, and he stalked toward her like a panther claiming his territory, joining her on the wooden floor. "Can I have this dance?"

Heart racing, she nodded, all words now locked below the lump in her throat. As she moved into his arms, the need to run transformed into a need to get closer to this special man.

"I knew you could sing...but not like that." His arms tightened around her back. "You have a gift."

In a rush of relief, she laid her face against his chest, wanting to tell him that she'd sung the song just for him. But she couldn't, the emotion was too new, too raw.

All too soon, the music of the song faded and their feet came to a standstill.

Audrey waved from across the floor, mouthing the words,
Ask him
.

Charli's pulse leaped and she remembered why she'd come onto the main room in the ridiculous outfit in the first place. She leaned back so that she could stare up into Connor's face, into his blue eyes. Blood pounded in her ears as she tried to assemble all that Jackson had taught her into coherent thoughts. Step two, or was it three? Her mouth opened and she blurted, "Will you have sex with me?"

Chapter Three
 

Charli flitted from her bathroom mirror to the front window at least a hundred times as she waited for Connor to arrive. So far, everything was going according to plan. Well, other than asking him outright if he wanted to have sex with her.

Her cheeks burned at the remembered embarrassment and clumsy backpedaling she'd done before she could solicit his commitment for dinner tonight, no pressure to have sex. Though her pussy felt the pressure like nobody's business.

Ever since Charli had danced with Connor on the dance floor, feeling his arms around her as if she was someone precious, she'd been scared.

Scared he'd come, they'd have dinner, and she'd forget how to talk.

Scared he'd find her boring, unattractive and too needy.

Scared the plan would fail, and he'd walk away convinced for the second time that she wasn't worth asking out on another date.

By now, she hadn't gotten a call from her mystery cowboy and she'd gotten to the point she didn't care. Knowing who she was with seemed much more important than living every crazy sexual fantasy she'd ever imagined. Not that the escapades hadn't been hot while they lasted, but, well, the midnight romps weren't something she could build a relationship on. And Charli realized not only did she want sex, she wanted a real, grown-up relationship, with a man who wasn't afraid to show his face.

Still wrapped in a towel, she strode into the bedroom where the pretty figure-hugging deep teal mini-dress lay across her bed. Audrey had loaned it to her for the occasion. Since Charli had blurted out she'd wanted sex, Audrey made the command decision to send a message to Connor that sex wasn't the only thing Charli wanted.

Charli reached for the dress, wondering if the negligee might be the better idea. Jackson had said, keep it simple. No, the dress was gorgeous, she looked gorgeous wearing it and the garment gave her something to strip when the time came. As consolation, she would forgo panties. Knowing how deliciously decadent that would feel as she sat across the table from Connor, eating their intimate dinner. Her body flushed with heat, her pussy dampening.

Maybe he'd run his fingers along her thigh and beneath the dress and discover her secret...

The doorbell rang.

Charli squealed and ran to answer it, realizing as she pulled the door halfway open that she still wore only the towel. A secret smile spread across her face. That was how she'd greeted Connor on their first date.

The sexy Mr. Mason stood there with a broad grin. "Nice."

Her heart pounded. Charli hoped he'd wrap his arms around her like he had the first time, but he didn't.

He winced, his lips twisting. "A buddy of mine from the military was passing through. I hope you don't mind that I brought him along." With a shuffle, he pulled a man with a short haircut into view.

Charli squealed for the second time, slammed the door shut in their faces and leaned against the wooden panel, a wave of disappointment and panic washing over her. Damn. This wasn't going according to plan at all. "I'll be right back," she called through the door. In less than a minute, she was back, with the dress pulled over her hips. She hadn't had time to find a pair of sexy underwear and barely had time to slip her feet into the high-heeled sandals she'd laid out by her bed.

Yanking open the door, she forced a smile to her face and waved the two men inside her little cottage. "I'm sorry. I wasn't quite ready."

"No apologies necessary. You're beautiful no matter what you wear." Connor lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips.

Tingles of awareness rippled across Charli's senses and she almost forgot the other man standing by.

His friend chuckled. "Or don't wear."

Connor jabbed him in the ribs. "Forgive my friend. He's been too long in all-male company. He's forgotten his manners."

The tall, broad-shouldered man stuck out a hand. "Grant Bradley. If this is inconvenient, I can leave Connor here and find my own dinner."

"No, no. I made plenty of food. Come in." Charli could have cried. Her plan would have to go on hold while Connor's friend had dinner with them. Maybe having sex with Connor wasn't meant to be. The best she could hope for was getting through the dinner without bursting into tears, or dying of sexual withdrawals.

The men entered the dining room where Charli had the table set for two,  with candles, rose petals and her best dishes.

"I'm really sorry. This was obviously a date. I'll just bow out quietly.” Grant backed toward the door. “You two have a nice dinner."

"No, really. I'd love for you to stay." Charli reached into her hutch for another plate and laid it on the table.

Dinner passed with laughter and a lot of story swapping, the two men holding up the bulk of the conversation, Charli listening and learning more about Connor than she would, had they been alone. He'd loved the military, had brother-love for the men of his unit and missed it. He came alive when he talked about the missions they'd been on and the danger inherent in a war-torn country. Connor and Grant had shared so much.

Charli couldn't begin to compete with them in a full-blown conversation. She fed them, made sure their glasses were full, and let their voices fill her with a gentle warmth, if not the passionate heat she'd set the "trap" for. Many times she struggled to concentrate when she remembered she wasn't wearing panties beneath the dress, a garment whose skirt was so short it rode up to where a panty-line should have been revealed.

Her heart fluttered as she sat between the two men, her desire growing, despite the conversation all about war.

When she rose to clear the last dish, Connor joined her, carrying his plate into the kitchen. "The chicken cordon bleu was great."

"Yes, it was. Thanks for the home-cooked meal." Grant called out. "Beats the chow hall any day."

As the kitchen door closed between them and Grant, Charli's pulse pounded against the base of her throat. She'd done everything right according to Jackson and Audrey—establishing a pretty trap with the right setting, the right clothing, or lack thereof. With Grant in the other room, Charli could move on to Step Three and stalk her prey. Maybe give him a hint of what he just might be missing.

"Do you think Grant would like coffee?" Charli asked.

"Probably."

When Connor reached around her to rinse his plate in the sink, Charli made her first move. She turned so fast, they stood almost nose-to-nose, her breasts pressing against his chest, her mouth so close to his lips, she could almost taste them. Her heart hammering, she gave a little giggle. "Oops, sorry." Then she ducked under his arm. She'd given him a taste, just a little taste, of what it felt like to get close.

After stowing the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, she busied herself pulling clean spoons from the drawer. When she thought he might be looking her way, Charli leaned up on her toes, stretching an arm high over her head and reaching up into the cabinet where she kept her coffee. She banked on the dress rising up enough to display a healthy portion of her naked ass.

"Look, I appreciate your being so—" Connor's words choked off mid-sentence.

Bingo. Charli cast a glance over her shoulder as she lowered her arm and her dress hem. "I'm sorry, you were saying?"

Connor cleared his throat and continued, his eyes wide and still resting on her hem, now clearly covering her bottom. "—accommodating. Thank you for being so accommodating. Grant would have had to eat by himself."

She turned back to the cabinet for a second time, reaching for the sugar. "He seems nice. Good-looking too." Rising slowly on her toes, she lifted an arm again, her dress inching upward with the movement...

Connor was behind her in an instant, plucking the sugar from the top shelf. "On second thought, I think Grant isn't into coffee. It's probably time we left."

Charli spun, knocking a coffee mug to the floor where it crashed along with all her hopes of seducing Connor Mason. Ducking her head to hide her shock, she bent to pick up the broken pieces. "Are you sure?"

"What's all the noise in here? Everyone all right?" Grant pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen, his gaze going to where Charli squatted, gathering ceramic shards.

Charli forced a smile. "I was just being clumsy."

Grant grinned. "Are you making coffee?"

"No, she's not." Connor pulled Charli to her feet, brushing at her dress until it covered her thighs. "It's time for us to go. Come on, Grant."

Charli almost laughed at how Connor hurried his buddy out of the kitchen, but the fact they were leaving made her want to shake a fist at her timing and break down and cry. "Are you sure you won't stay?"

Herding his friend toward the front door, Connor grabbed his cowboy hat and plunked it on his head. "Grant needs to get back to my place, he has to leave at the butt-crack of dawn."

Grant nodded. "I have to report in to Ft. Hood in the morning, it's quite a hoof from here."

Charli sighed. "Then I guess you need to get back."

"You know, I'm the only one who has to be somewhere tomorrow." Grant dug in his pocket and pulled out his keys. "If you could give Connor a ride home, he can stay longer."

Charli's chest filled with hope. A perfect solution.

But Connor shook his head, frowning at his friend. "I can't ditch you on your only night in town."

"Who's ditching? I'm not ready to hit the rack, anyway. I thought I'd stop by the Ugly Stick Saloon to catch a dance with that pretty little waitress. What was her name?"

"Which one? They're all pretty." Connor smiled at Charli.

"The brunette with the big brown eyes." Grant tapped his key to his chin. "Bella, I think was her name."

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