Scarlet (9 page)

What was she going to do if he said no?
Go home and
slowly watch my wardrobe disintegrate into nothing.
And it would mean
leaving Cain. It had only been a few days but her heart ached at the prospect.
In between bouts of outrageous, wicked sex, they’d actually had conversations.
He’d been funny and interesting. They agreed on movies and food but not on
books or politics.

He was surprisingly conservative. At least outside the
bedroom.

Inside?
Wowser.
And now she was deliberately setting
up a three-way.

“Heather?” Cain’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts, his
hand skimming across her bare back. She shivered and leaned into his chest. He
held her close for a moment, then eased back to reveal a nervous, possibly
irritated Paxson.

“Hi,” she said.

He nodded but didn’t speak.

She spun around on the bar stool and faced them.

“You look fantastic,” Cain said.

The sparkly gold top hung around her neck and tied across
her back but beyond that, the material swung free, clinging to her breasts. She
liked it because it allowed her hair to brush against her bare back, teasing
her skin. She only hoped the strings keeping the damn thing on stayed together.
With her recent bout of bad luck with clothing, she wasn’t taking anything for
granted.

The short black skirt rode up high on her legs as she turned
around, not enough to flash her panties but the image made her smile.

She hopped off the bar stool and while that might have made
the skirt slide down a couple of inches, it also made her breasts bounce. She
watched both men’s eyes drop to her chest. The hunger reflected there made her
nipples tighten even more, sending delicious flutters into her pussy.

“Thanks. So, what’s the plan?” she asked, directing the
question to Cain but quickly turning it to Paxson. He was the wild card. She
knew Cain was into it.

The muscles along Paxson’s jaw tightened.

“All you need is one night of sex?” he asked, his voice hard.
He crossed his arms over his chest. The move made him look huge and
intimidating. The gentle man who’d blushed when she’d teased him had turned
into someone cold and a little frightening.

“I guess this isn’t a good idea.”

“You think?” Paxson snapped.

Something wilted inside Heather. She hadn’t wanted to upset
anyone.

“Let’s just forget it,” she said.

“What about the dress and the curse?” Cain asked.

Paxson scoffed. “Oh right, the curse.”

The edges of Heather’s eyes tightened. She could handle
irritated. She could even accept pissed off. But snotty? Oh no. “It’s true.”

“Right.”

“I’ll prove it to you.”

“Right,” Paxson said again.

“Okay, buddy, now you’re getting on my nerves.” She pushed
back her shoulders and glared at the two men—Paxson for being a snot and Cain
for just standing by. “Let’s go.” She stalked off toward the bank of elevators
that led to her room. It only took a moment before she realized they weren’t
behind her.

One of the thin strings holding the back of her top on
snapped and the material fluttered, floating away from her body. She wrapped
her arms around her waist and spun back around. She stormed up to them. They
stood close together, engaged in a furious discussion.

“Would you two please come on before I end up completely
naked? Damn, and I really liked this top.”

Paxson and Cain shared a look then Paxson nodded once.

Heather sighed with relief. This time, when she walked away,
Paxson and Cain were with her. They stepped onto the elevator and were
immediately crowded to the back as others climbed aboard. Cain put his arm
around her waist. Paxson stood in front of her, an impenetrable wall. Her heart
clenched at the thought that he was so pissed he couldn’t even look at her.

But then she realized he was protecting her. He blocked
anyone except for Cain from coming closer. It was kind of sweet actually, in a
macho he-man sort of way.

The elevator was half empty by the time it reached her
floor. She stopped as they got off.

“And we probably need another man. Is there someone you
could call?”

Paxson blinked and stared down at her. “You need
another
man?”

“Yes, and see if he can bring some scissors.”

Paxson could hardly believe his ears. First Cain came and
told him this insane story about a cursed bridal gown, then he tempted Paxson
with the one thing that had kept him awake for the past four nights—making love
to Heather.

Damn it, he knew Cain liked her. Cain had been grinning
every morning at the gym. It was all Paxson could do not to punch him.

Now this. Spend the night with Heather and Cain.

Great. Could he feel like more of a third wheel?

And now she needed
another
man? Damn, she had to be a
contortionist. He’d seen three guys and a girl in a porn movie once. Instead of
exciting him, he’d spent the whole time wondering how they could fuck all
twisted up like that.

And scissors? He unclipped his phone from his belt and
called Rogers asking him to get a pair of scissors and come to Heather’s room.

She smiled and opened the door, inviting them both in.

Paxson hesitated. Cain didn’t seem to find any of this odd.
Maybe he followed the theory that sex with crazy chicks was great. Paxson
wasn’t so sure.

“Now what?” he asked as the door closed behind them.

Heather sighed and her breasts swayed beneath the glittering
piece of fabric covering her chest. The tight little nipples pressed through
the material and Paxson wanted to run his lips over those tight nubs. Damn.
Maybe he should look at it as a chance to finally do all those things he’d been
dreaming about.

Except it all happened a little too conveniently. Just this
morning he’d talked to Cain, mentioning that he thought Heather was hot. He’d
meant to say it casually, a little teasing that Cain had found a sexy,
interesting woman. In the back of his mind, maybe he hoped Cain would share a
few more details—because Paxson really needed something else to torment himself
with.

But who knows? Maybe he’d sounded envious. He’d mentioned it
to Cain and poof—suddenly his woman wanted a three-way? Too convenient.

“Well,” Heather started. “I guess you guys just take a seat
and I’ll put on the wedding dress.” Her shoulders slumped and the material that
covered her chest fluttered, baring the soft curve of her breast.

Paxson’s throat tightened.

“What’s wrong?” Cain asked.

“I swore I would never put this dress on again.” She
straightened her spine, pushed her shoulders back like she was going into
battle, and stared directly at them. “No matter what happens, you—one of
you—has to promise to stay in this room until the dress comes off.”

Paxson blinked but didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure
how
to answer.

“Promise,” she insisted.

He shrugged. “Okay, I promise.”

Cain nodded.

Tension drifted from her shoulders but she still didn’t look
happy about putting on the dress. And Paxson felt a little guilty about not
going along with the plan. The woman—sexy though she was—obviously had issues.

“Listen, I—”

The string around her neck that held up the shimmering
material snapped without warning and the piece of cloth slithered to the floor
in a sparkling pile of gold.

“Damn it!” Heather stared at the crumpled material. “Another
one, totally ruined.”

She snatched a pillow off the bed and held it to her chest,
but Paxson had long since memorized how her breasts looked. Hell, he’d imagined
how they felt in his hands, against his lips. Still, looking at the real thing
had been nice.

“I guess I’ll go put on the ugly dress.” She snatched the
white cloth off the end of the bed and dragged it toward the bathroom.
“Promise,” she said as she stopped at the door. “You won’t leave, right?”

The worry in her eyes was real. “I promise,” Paxson vowed
for both of them.

Her lips looked like they were trying to smile but the
effect was more of a grimace. She disappeared into the bathroom and Paxson
released the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“What do you think?” Cain asked.

“I don’t know.” Paxson shook his head. “She seems perfectly
normal when you talk to her.” They’d “run into” each other at lunch the last
three days and he’d found himself eating with her. He realized she’d arranged
the “chance” encounters but he hadn’t managed to resist spending time with her,
even if it was just lunch.

“Until she starts talking about that dress,” Cain added. “Is
it possible?”

Paxson rolled his eyes. “A cursed wedding dress? I don’t
think so.”

“But why—”

Heather’s reappearance stopped their conversation. It was an
ugly dress but it did wonderful things to her breasts.

A knocked sounded on the door and Heather opened it to
reveal Rogers, carrying a pair of scissors and wearing a confused look.

“Uhm, I’m looking for Paxson Graves?”

“I’m here, Rogers,” Paxson called. “Come on in.”

Rogers nodded to Heather and stepped into the room,
clutching the scissors. He walked in and tried to hand them to Paxson.

“No, you’re going to use them,” Heather announced. “Now—”
She stepped forward. “You two back up against the windows. Get as far away from
me and this dress as you can.”

Paxson looked at Cain. They both shrugged and backed up,
resting against the narrow ledge at the window.

She turned to Rogers. “Unzip me.”

“What?” He backed away, hands held up in the classic “I’m
innocent, I didn’t do anything” position.

“It’s okay.” She turned her back to him. “Unzip me.”

Rogers blinked and looked at Paxson, silently asking
permission. Paxson nodded, because, really what else could he do?

Rogers placed the scissors on the bed and grabbed the tab of
the zipper. He tugged and stopped. “I think it’s stuck.”

“Try again.”

He tugged and tugged, practically pulling Heather over
backward.

“I’m sorry, miss, but I can’t get this zipper to move.”

“Cut it.”

“What?” Again he blinked and looked at Paxson for
confirmation that this wasn’t insane.

Except it kind of was. Still, it was her dress. “She says,
cut it. Cut it,” Paxson commanded, more than a little intrigued. Maybe she’d
glued down the zipper.

Rogers grabbed the scissors, pulled back the edge of the
dress and cut through—only the scissors slipped to the side, the material
sliding between the blades, unharmed.

“Oops.” Rogers tried it again. Same result. “I think I
grabbed a bad pair of scissors.” He struggled for a bit, the frustration
growing on his face.

“Forget it.” Heather waved her hand. “Just try pulling it
off over my head.”

“Uh, Captain?”

More than a little intrigued, Paxson nodded. “Do it.”

She couldn’t have set this up with Rogers ahead of time. She
had no way of knowing who he would call.

Heather raised her hands above her head and waited. Rogers
grabbed at the waist and pulled up, practically lifting Heather off her feet.
Paxson held his breath, anticipating the sound of ripping material at any
moment but the dress held. Rogers grunted and yanked again.

“What did you do? Superglue it to your body?” He clenched
his teeth and pulled. Heather’s face turned red as if she wasn’t able to
breathe.

“That’s enough,” Paxson said, stepping forward. “Don’t hurt
her.”

“Sorry, sir. I just—” He shrugged. “I don’t know what’s
wrong with that dress.”

Paxson walked forward but Heather waved him back.

Drawing in a deep breath, Heather nodded. “I think that’s
good,” she said to Rogers. “You can go now.”

He once again looked at Paxson for confirmation. Pax nodded.

The door closed behind him and she faced Cain and Paxson,
her arms held out to the side.

“See? Can’t get the dress off.”

“But—”

The words locked in his throat as she strolled forward, arms
still away from her body. She got near, about two feet away, and poof—the dress
fell to the ground.

Leaving her, once again, in nothing but tiny red panties.

“Damn,” Cain murmured, echoing Paxson’s silent sentiment.

“And you think the dress falls off for your true love?”
Paxson’s heart skipped a beat. Then he remembered Cain, standing right next to
him.

“That’s the theory.” She shrugged and Paxson’s gaze fell to
her breasts and the rest of her words got kind of fuzzy. His brain snapped back
into focus as she wrapped her hand around the front of his shirt and pulled him
close. His body eagerly went with the flow.

She was tall, probably close to five nine, so he didn’t have
to bend far. She tipped her head back and those soft pink lips that he’d
imagined wrapped around his cock opened slightly. Pure hunger stared at him
through those bright green eyes.

Unable to resist, he bent down and kissed her, just meaning
to take a taste but the heady flavor of her mouth captivated him. He flicked
his tongue out, teasing the inside of her lip, asking her to invite him inside.
She did. The seductive mouth that haunted his dreams opened for him. The need
to conquer, to leave his mark on her somehow, overwhelmed him and he drove his
tongue inside.

Delicious heat surrounded him and he moaned. It took a
moment for him to realize it wasn’t just the kiss that consumed his senses—it
was bodies, pressed against him. Heather to his front. Cain leaning into his
side, watching.

Of course the man is watching. You just kissed his
girlfriend.

Paxson dragged his head back. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to do
that.”

The apology was sincere but Heather’s lips just spread into
a smile. “Really? I can’t wait to be there when it’s intentional.”

She pressed up on her toes and kissed his cheek, his chin.
“You taste amazing.”