ThreesACharm (2 page)

Several hours later, Charli parked her truck a block over at the edge of an apartment building and checked the clock in the dashboard. Five minutes. She'd chosen this parking lot for a reason. After almost getting caught skinny-dipping at the judge's swimming pool, she needed an easy getaway location.

The clandestine meeting had her hands damp and clammy and a bead of sweat running down between her breasts before she even stepped out into the balmy Texas night. Her hair escaped the carefully tucked pins, defying Charli's attempt at a sophisticated chignon. Hell the closest she'd come to an up-do was a ponytail braided and curled around the rubber band. The loose curls she'd worked on for hours had already started falling from the pins.

Damn. Well, it couldn't be helped. If she'd planned this outfit right, the Original Sin wouldn't be looking at her hair, he'd zero in on the V of her long black dress. The gap dropped down almost to her belly button with nothing more than thick swaths of near-sheer fabric covering her breasts. The skirt completely covered her legs when she stood still. With each step, the slits on the sides parted to her hips. If anyone looked closely enough, they'd see she had chosen to go commando as the note had implied. Where a dress and nothing else.

Her nipples puckered as she stepped from the car, her thigh exposed to the hot Texas night. Already her pussy creamed in anticipation of what her cowboy had in mind.

Hugging the shadows, she strode along the sidewalk, the stars above glimmering brightly, lighting her way. As she neared the back of the furniture store, disappointment was quickly followed by uneasiness. Nobody awaited her arrival. The structure looked closed up tight and no light shone over the stoop, welcoming her.

She stopped a few feet short of her destination, feeling silly and ready to run for safety. But the past two nights had been too good to give up without the requisite wait. She shrugged and stepped up to the building's back entrance. No sooner had she started tapping her red stilettos on the concrete than the store's back door opened.

The Original Sin, dressed in a tuxedo, black cowboy boots and hat, held out a hand. "We've been expecting you."

Charli gulped, placed her fingers in his and crossed the threshold. Once inside with the door pulled closed, her mystery man led her through the storage area where furniture was assembled and out onto the showroom floor.

A grand dining table had been set for two, complete with lit candles, full wine glasses and from the looks of the plates, filet mignon. The aroma of succulent steaks wafted toward her, making her tummy rumble. She'd skipped the hamburgers of earlier that evening at Ed Judson's barbeque, too keyed up to eat a thing. Now, all at once, she found herself famished and energized.

She glanced up, hoping to catch a glimpse of his eyes beneath the cowboy hat.

Tonight, instead of relying on shadows, he wore a black swatch of material in the shape of a Zorro mask.

Her heart flipped and butterflies swarmed in her stomach, as she nearly swooned at how closely Original Sin resembled one of her favorite movie heroes of all time. She swallowed hard on the excitement rising up in her throat and focused on the table. She couldn't decide if she wanted to eat steak or cowboy first. "This is very nice."

"Thanks." He smiled. "We tried."

Charli’s lips twisted. "That's the second time you've said 'we'. Do you have company, or is there a mouse in your pocket?"

He laughed, the sound deep and titillating, making Charli's decision easy. Eat the cowboy, the steak could wait.

Her Original Sin waved his hand in the air and two more men dressed in tuxedos, matching black hats, boots and masks stepped out of the shadows, grins pulling at their cheeks. Neither said a word, just nodded and pulled out a chair for Original Sin and herself to take a seat.

Charli glanced at them nervously. What was with the clones in tuxedoes?  "Are you two going to eat with us?"

"We've already eaten," the one holding her chair said.

She recognized his voice from the previous night.

"We're here to serve," added the new cowboy.

Equally tall, built and yummy, the man had testosterone oozing from every pore. Charli could think of ways he could serve that had nothing to do with food.

He left the room and returned with a fiddle and drew the bow over the strings in a light, romantic tune, setting the mood for the elaborate dinner.

The Original Sin motioned to her plate. "Please, eat."

While Charli would rather start with the cowboy, she lifted her fork to her mouth with the first bite of an orgasmically delicious filet mignon. "Umm...this is to die for."

"So glad you approve."

She waved at the table, the candles and the food. "Why all this?"

"I wanted to take you out on a date. It had to be private, in luxurious surroundings, with the finest service loyalty can buy." He waved a hand at the two men. While the new guy played the violin, the fake cop from the previous night slid into his role as waiter, adding and removing plates and refilling the wine glasses.

Charli squirmed in her chair, her heart palpitating over The Original Sin's emphasis on the word service. She wanted to question him. Did he mean anything by the word choice? Would the other two guys come into play soon? Her core tightened, longing building with every bite of the delicious meal. Her gaze went to the huge display windows at the front of the building. The candlelight reflected off the glass, giving her a false sense of intimacy. She couldn't see out, but could others see in? "Aren't you afraid someone will notice us through the windows?"

He smiled. "All part of the plan, sweetheart. Nothing makes a situation more intense than a little added danger." Original Sin's brow rose above the mask. "Am I right?"

"You do have permission to use the store, I take it?"

His brows rose, a sexy, bad-boy smile sliding across his face. "As I was saying...nothing makes a situation more intense than a little added danger."

Charli's blood pounded intensely through her veins, stirring up more thoughts than she cared to admit. She gulped an unchewed portion of meat. "Okay, then. Add breaking and entering to trespass and public indecency. I'll have a criminal record longer than my arm before I even know who you are." Charli stared across the table. "Since this is a danger date, shouldn't we share more information about each other? Talk or something?" She lifted her wine glass, sipped and eyed her cowboy over the rim.

"I know where you work, that you are bored with your life in West Texas and that you enjoy hot sex. What more do I need to know?" He lifted his wine glass toward her.

"You know a lot about me...I'd like to be equally as knowledgeable about you." Charli leaned forward, her top loosening, a waft of cool air tickling her nipples. She was almost positive the men at her sides could view her full breasts, should they bother to look. The thought weighted her core with desire.

"You may ask three questions." OS waved his hand. "But be warned. I guarantee no answers."

Charli pouted and asked the most important question, "What's your name?"

He shook his head. "That's the mystery portion of the danger equation. Next question."

Frustration stabbed her chest and she sat back. "Are you a cowboy, or do you just wear the clothes?"

"I've been known to rope, ride, wrangle and build a fence or two."

She straightened. Maybe now they were getting somewhere. The guy  was real cowboy. "Are you here with the rodeo?"

He shrugged, noncommittally. "I admit to having spent a day or two there, on occasion."

A frustrated sigh slipped past Charli's lips. That wasn't much of an answer. "Are you Connor Mason?"

The cowboy smiled. "That's four questions." He waved to the cowboy with the fiddle, who promptly disappeared. The cowboy serving the wine and dinner ducked out as well.

"If you're finished with your meal, perhaps you would care for dessert?"

"I suppose." Charli wanted to know where the other two men had gone and if they were serving more than music and food, but she'd used up her quota of questions.

The man in the black cowboy hat stood and held the chair while Charli rose. His fingers settled on her shoulders, sliding down the length of her arms. The brush of lips at the curve of her neck sent her body into a rush of electric shocks, tingling all the way to her center.

"Is this dessert?" she whispered, her head dipping to one side, allowing him better access to her throat.

"Not quite. I have dessert waiting in another room." His hands slipped beneath the swaths of fabric and cupped her breasts, pulling her against him, the hard ridge of his erection pressing into her back. "Shall we?"

"The table is closer," Charli offered weakly, the rough hands palming her boobs setting her core on fire. She was ready to start the fucking now.

He chuckled, pinched her hardened nipples and slapped her ass. Then he turned her toward another doorway and led her into the room with the bedroom displays, equally exposed to the large display windows at the front of the furniture store. In the middle of the floor stood a king-sized bed, draped in black satin sheets, with red satin pillows scattered across the mattress. White rose petals littered the surface, their aroma adding to the ambiance.

Charli's pulse hammered through her veins. Oh, yeah, baby. This was going to be good.

The two cowboys appeared from the shadows, each wearing nothing but black silk boxers, their masks and the cowboy hats.

The cowboy from the night before set a bowl of strawberries and a riding whip on the nightstand and stood with legs braced apart, both hands crossed over a rock-hard erection tenting his silk shorts.

On the other side of the bed, the new cowboy arranged a bowl of whipped cream and a length of rope. He too stood at parade rest, a smile tugging at his lips, his hands cupping the stiffy poking against his boxers.

Charli's breath caught and held in her lungs and she turned to Original Sin. "For me?"

"Dessert has arrived.” He smiled and gestured toward the bed. “All you have to decide is how you want it served."

Holy crap! Charli's skin burned, heat rising up her neck into her cheeks. The three men stared in her direction, awaiting her next move. The wide, dark window reflected the soft lighting, the men and herself standing there. Talk about putting a woman on the spot. But wasn't this what fantasies were made of? She turned to OS. How did she voice what she wanted? Would she be embarrassed in the morning, would the men expect more from her when she awoke the next day? Would OS be disappointed if she didn't choose just him?

Holy smokes! They were hot and making her sizzle. Who gave a crap about picture windows and tomorrow?

"I want the works, please." Charli held her breath and waited for his response, praying he wouldn't ask what the works were.

OS tipped his head at the others.

They moved forward in sync—one carrying the rope, the other the riding crop.

With arms crossed over his chest, OS turned to her. "Choose your captive."

"Captive?" she squeaked on a quick inhale.

"You want the works?" he prompted.

Unsure now as to what she was going to get, still willing to try anything, she nodded.

"Choose."

For a long moment, she stared from the man with the whip to the one with the rope. Then with a sigh, she faced OS. "I choose you."

A smile stretched across his lips. "As you wish."

Her pulse raced at the thought of securing this hunk to a mattress and having her wicked way with him. The roles would be switched, she'd be the dom in this scenario. She'd have Zorro as her prisoner!

Taking on the role of his captor, she grabbed the riding crop, squared her shoulders and stood with feet planted wide. "Remove his clothing," she demanded. "Slowly."

OS's two buddies frowned, hesitating to follow her orders.

"I didn't sign up for this," the fiddle player took a step backward. "I don't do guys."

"Now." Charli popped his thigh hard enough to make a sound but not a mark. She jumped at her own brazenness, her body tingling in anticipation of doing it again.

The fiddler yelped and fell in line. "Yes, ma'am." He rounded to the back of OS and slipped the tuxedo jacket over the man's shoulders.

Original Sin's gaze remained locked with Charli's.

His fake cop buddy from the night before loosened the straps on his cumber bun. "You owe me for this."

"I know," OS grumbled between tight lips. "Just do it. You won't regret."

"Oh, yeah." The fake cop threw a smile over his shoulder at Charli. "She's worth it."

OS loosened his own shirt buttons and the fiddler helped him pull it off. "Damn right, she's worth it."

"Enough chatter." Charli smacked the back of Fake-cop's shorts. "Step aside. I'll take it from here." Apparently, these were men's men and didn't much like undressing their buddy. No problem, Charli preferred unveiling OS herself.

The guys moved a few feet away, their hands crossing over their chests like guards in a harem.

Charli gripped the crop between her teeth and reached for OS's belt, swallowing laughter that threatened to bubble up at the bright shiny buckle, probably won in a rodeo. You could put a cowboy in a tuxedo, but he was still a cowboy beneath his cumber bun.