Stranded (8 page)

“It’s what Mom and Dad could afford.” Holden
was almost touching her now. “We had scholarships for football and
skiing, which paid for most of it. The rest they helped us with
because the practice is so intense when playing a college
sport.”

“Mmm-hmmm.” She could barely make a sound as
Dawson started moving closer on her other side. She knew she should
tell them to give her some room, but her body was going berserk.
“What did you major in?”

“I have my BA in advertising.” Dawson moved
closer yet.

“My BA is in business.” Holden’s leg was up
now against hers.

She tried for a smile but her lips trembled
from trying to hold back a soft sound of desire. “Perfect degrees
for running a successful business.”

Dawson eased closer until his leg was pressed
against her.

She was going to lose it. Before she could
excuse herself, Holden ran his finger up her leg from her knee to
her thigh. Tingles ran through her body and she immediately ached
between her thighs.

Her gaze swung to meet his, her lips parted.
Holden wrapped his hand around her ponytail and clenched it,
pulling her to him for a kiss. It was dominant, yet slow and
erotic. Her head felt light and like it was spinning. Maybe it was
the heat from the hot tub, but it probably had more to do with his
kiss.

Her moan came out strong, her nipples aching
to be touched. It was as if Dawson heard how much she wanted that
because he moved both hands to her breasts and brushed his thumbs
over her nipples, through the lacy bra.

She gasped and Holden took that as an
invitation to kiss her harder. He moved his hand further up her
thigh and eased fingers close to the center of her panties. She
squirmed, which only made his fingers come in contact with the
material.

Holden drew away, a smile of satisfaction on
his face as he pressed against her cloth-covered folds. She
suddenly found it hard to catch her breath. Her eyelids wanted to
drift down as the men touched her, taunted her.

And then Dawson’s hand replaced Holden’s as
he grasped her ponytail and brought her around to face him. He took
command of her mouth, kissing her as senseless as Holden had,
tasting her, devouring her. His lips were firm, his tongue
searching and demanding.

Dawson squeezed one of her breasts. Holden
pinched the opposite nipple and pressed his other hand against her
clit. He started to slip his fingers beneath her panties when alarm
bells went off in her head. Insistent, waking her from the lustful
trance she was in.

You can’t do this, Erika. They’re
potential clients. For Godsake,
two
men.

With a small sound of both desire and
distress, she pulled away from both of them, moving into the center
of the hot tub before climbing out. She didn’t look at them as she
grabbed a towel, wrapped it around herself, and fled the
bathroom.

***

Erika spent the next few hours on the
guestroom bed reading a Stephen King novel she’d found on the
bookshelf along one wall. Apparently Holden liked horror and
thrillers, because there were several by King and others by Dean
Koontz, along with novels by Dan Brown and Patricia Cornwell.

She’d dressed in one of the T-shirts Holden
had loaned her along with the sweats she’d been given. She was
commando once again, her lingerie scattered on the floor to wash
when she wasn’t being such a chicken and hiding in the room.

Even as Erika read, her face heated every
time she thought about what had happened in the hot tub. She set
the book down and put her palms on her cheeks as they warmed
again.

Clenching her jaw, she dropped her hands from
her face, swung her legs off the bed and got to her feet. She shook
out her muscles and wondered if it was still snowing or storming,
or whatever it was, and she went to the bedroom window. When she
pulled the curtain aside, all she saw was swirling white, so thick
there was no way to see anything beyond that.

What was she going to do? She’d never make
another day here with Holden and Dawson.

It was close to dinnertime when she decided
to leave the guestroom. She felt like a child who’d been hiding
away after getting into trouble. The moment she opened the door,
she could smell something warm like fresh baked biscuits and gravy.
As she got closer, she was pretty sure she could smell fried
chicken, too.

Feeling almost shy, she walked to the
kitchen. Holden looked up from the pan where he was, indeed, frying
chicken. Dawson wasn’t around.

He smiled at her as he took out a drumstick
with a pair of tongs and set it on a plate with paper towels on it.
“White or dark meat?”

“White.” Her voice sounded softer than
normal.

“I prefer thighs.” Dawson came up behind her
and she almost jumped out of her skin. She looked over her shoulder
at him and he gave an unrepentant grin.

“I’m a breast man.” A note of amusement was
in Holden’s tone as he spoke.

Despite all of the sexual tension, their
teasing made her want to smile.

She moved aside so that she could see the men
at the same time. “You two are, what’s the word? Incorrigible?” She
shook her head. “There’s got to be a word stronger than that.”

Holden gave an innocent look. “Don’t you mean
charming?”

Dawson’s expression was just as innocent.
“Handsome?”

“Funny?”

“Exciting?”

“Sexy?”

“None of those come close to what I was
thinking of.” Erika held her hands up. “I give up.” Her stomach
rumbled and she looked at the crunchy chicken that Holden was
taking out of a pan of oil. She was used to eating sort of healthy
with her microwave dinners and always chose grilled meats and fresh
veggies when she ate out. “Who eats fried food anymore?”

Holden put the last chicken breast on the
paper towels that were soaked in oil. “There’s nothing wrong with a
little grease once a month.”

“I guess once a month won’t kill you.” She
tilted her head to the side as she thought about fried foods. “The
last fried chicken I can remember having was when I was a kid. My
mom used to make it. She was from the south and I think fried
chicken was part of her religion.”

“Then it’s time you have it again.” Holden
turned off the flame and moved the pan to a back burner on the gas
stove. He stirred the pan of gravy, turned off the heat, and moved
it to a trivet on the countertop.

He stepped aside so that Dawson could open
the oven door, using mitts to take out a pan of biscuits.

Erika had to admit it smelled incredible.
Absolutely incredible. She put everything negative about greasy
foods out of her mind and enjoyed the meal immensely.

Once dinner was over and dishes taken care
of, Holden cracked open another special bottle of wine and they
carried the wine and glasses to the living room. They drank wine
and watched the news, which was all about the storm.

Erika shook her head. “Is it ever going to
end?”

Dawson raised his wine glass and looked
directly at her. “I can’t think of better company to be stuck with
in a snowstorm.”

Holden clinked his glass with his cousin’s.
“I’ll toast to that.”

She hesitated and the men grinned at her.
“Oh, hell.” She raised her glass. “To snowstorms.”

Holden used the remote to turn off the TV.
“How about a card game?”

She looked at him dryly. “As long as it’s not
strip poker.”

Dawson flashed a broad smile. “That’s a great
idea.”

“No. It’s not.” She shook her head, almost
tipping her wine glass.

Holden laughed and opened a pair of doors at
the bottom of the bookshelf. He brought out a tray of poker chips
and a deck of cards and set them all on the coffee table. He
crouched on one knee. “How about twenty-one?”

“All right.” She slid off the couch so that
she was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table. Her bare
breasts bounced beneath the T-shirt and the material rubbed against
her sensitive nipples.

Holden and Dawson made themselves comfortable
too, and she thought she saw them taking peeks at her breasts.
Served them right to see and not touch.

Holden handed out stacks of chips and Dawson
started dealing. They played for about an hour while drinking their
wine, and Erika lost spectacularly.

“What happened to beginner’s luck?” she
muttered as Holden swept away the last of her chips and Dawson
gathered the cards.

Dawson looked at her with amusement as he
shuffled the cards. “How about a different game of poker?”

“I’ve never played poker.” She caught herself
twirling her ponytail and stopped. “Crazy Eights and Go Fish are
more up my line. I could beat your asses at one of those.”

Holden grinned and Dawson laughed.

“We’ll teach you Seven-Card Stud.” Holden
handed her more chips.

She took a drink of wine then looked at him
doubtfully. “I’m game for anything.”

Dawson raised his brows. “Anything?”

She gave him a pretend glare. “Get your mind
out of the gutter.” His grin told her he wasn’t sorry at all for
the innuendo.

The wine had given her a warm, mellow feeling
and she enjoyed the card games, even if she was losing. Apparently,
Seven-Card Stud wasn’t her game, either, and she again lost all of
her chips.

“Enough poker.” She put her elbows on the
coffee table, feeling more than a little mellow and tipsy from the
wine. “What else ya got?”

“I’ve got an idea.” Holden tucked the cards
into its box while Dawson organized the chips. “How about Truth or
Dare?”

She tilted her head to the side. “How do you
play that?”

Dawson looked on in interest. “You’ve never
played?”

She shook her head, then wished she hadn’t.
She’d had enough wine that the movement made her feel a little
dizzy. “No. I don’t even know what it is.”

“In that case…” Holden looked at Dawson who
gave a nod. Holden smiled. “We’ll play this one the
adult
way, meaning once we ask the question you can say if you’d prefer a
dare to answering the question.”

“It’s a little different from how kids play
it,” Dawson said. “In this version, once you know the question,
you’ll have the choice of performing the dare or telling the truth.
But you won’t know what the dare is until the question is asked.
And you have to take the dare once you choose that over telling the
truth.”

“I’m not so sure about this.” She narrowed
her gaze. “What kinds of dares?”

Holden shrugged. “Eating mustard.”

“Putting ice down your pants.” Dawson
suggested.

“Scream.”

“Eat a whole half gallon of ice cream.”

“Lick the floor.”

Erika made a face. “Lick the floor?”

“You get the idea,” Dawson said.

She frowned. “I don’t know…” It sounded kind
of juvenile, but right then she didn’t really care if it did.

“Have something to hide?” Holden acted
serious, but his lips twitched as if he wanted to grin.

For the life of her she couldn’t think of a
truth she would care about telling. Not one that they’d ever think
to ask. She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling her unfettered
breasts beneath her arms. “Okay. Fine.”

“We’ll start easy.” Start easy? What would
hard mean?

“Okay,” she said slowly.

He studied her. “Where did you get your law
degree? Truth or Dare.”

“Columbia.” She turned to Dawson. “Why did
your skiing career end? Truth or Dare.”

“Shattered my ankle in a skiing accident.” He
shrugged. “It was never the same.” He immediately asked her, “Have
you always lived in New York City? Truth or Dare.”

“Is this gang up on Erika night?” She wanted
to laugh as she said the words. “You should be asking Holden a
question.”

Dawson made a brushing away movement. “I
already know his secrets.”

“And then some,” Holden agreed.

“This is not going to be a fair game.” She
straightened. “No, I haven’t lived in the City my whole life. I
moved there to go to Columbia and stayed.”

“Prestigious law school,” Holden said.

“Since I answered a question, I get to ask
another.” She sipped her wine and then pointed her finger at
Holden. “What was the most mischievous thing you can think of that
you did as a kid? Truth or Dare.”

Holden laughed and Dawson snorted. “What
didn’t
we do?” Holden said.

She watched him, enjoying the way the corner
of his mouth turned up. “Surely there was something you did that
made your mom and dad want to take a paddle to your butt.”

“Who says they didn’t?” Holden said but had a
mischievous glint in his eye.

She shook the finger she was pointing at him.
“Well, name something.”

He looked thoughtful. “One time, Dawson and I
swiped my sister’s Barbie dolls, took all of their dresses off,
shaved their heads, and gave them mustaches with a Sharpie.”

“We wanted an army and they couldn’t look
girly.” Dawson grinned. “We used twigs and things for guns.”

“And cut toothpicks in half for knives.”
Holden nodded. “We did get the wooden spoon for that one.”

Erika burst out laughing. “Your poor
sister.”

Dawson shook his head. “It took us two months
of chores to earn back enough money to buy her new dolls.”

Holden, still grinning, looked at Erika. “Do
you have any siblings?”

“Nope.” She shook her head. “No Barbie dolls,
either.”

Dawson raised his eyebrows. “Isn’t that a
girl’s rite of passage? To have a trunk load of Barbies?”

Her smile wanted to falter, but she managed
to keep one on her face. “Not in my house.” She sipped her wine,
set the glass down, and turned to Dawson. “You now.”

He shook his head. “Holden didn’t say Truth
or Dare after his question.”

Her mouth dropped open. “That is so not
fair.”