Carter, Beth D. - Lawless Hearts (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 3

  He raised an eyebrow, humor brightening his eyes. “Basic need, sweetheart. We all gotta do it. At least we can dig a hole and set up a privacy blanket.”

  The idea of going behind the privacy blanket and having them know what she was doing brought red heat to her entire face. She hid it behind a hand as she bent her head and rubbed her forehead to ease the sudden tension that gripped her.

  “So you think we’re going to be here for a while,” she surmised.

  “I think it’s possible.”

  “You’re a teacher, right?” Garrett asked, but continued before she could answer. “It might take a few days, but when you don’t show up for school, someone will come investigate.”

  She let out a breath and rose to her feet to join them, examining the cellar as well. She also kept it for storage, so there were various items down here, like extra lamps, extra cooking items, dolls and clothes she had outgrown, but luckily extra blankets and tools she needed for winter.

  While Cassidy built the latrine, Garrett made them a lean-to for sleeping. Scharlie’s heart thudded when she realized he had only made one big bed for all of them instead of individual pallets.

  She organized the food and water supplies, trying very hard not to let the circumstances overwhelm her. Her hands shook, but she took several deep breaths to calm her nerves.

  Scharlie couldn’t imagine what she would have done had she been alone when the storm hit. She liked to think she would have been smart and done all the things that Cassidy and Garrett were taking care of, but then she remembered her actions with the door. Had she gone outside to try to save her animals, there was a good chance she wouldn’t have survived.

  She peeked over her shoulders to the two cowboys. The situation of being alone with two men suddenly dawned on her, and she couldn’t help her mind flashing to her book. The stories poured through her head, causing her skin to flash hot and cold. Her heart thudded, and an ache pulsed between her legs that begged for her hand to slide in and tease her clit until an orgasm brought relief. But she had to settle for crossing her legs against the throb that wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it.

  “Why don’t we all settle down, get comfortable, and catch some sleep,” Cassidy said as he wiped his hands on a rag.

  Scharlie looked at the pile of blankets that would protect them from the cool ground.

  “Sleep. Together?”

  Cassidy crooked an eyebrow. He shot a glance over to Garrett, and Scharlie followed it. The two men exchanged a look that she couldn’t exactly identify.

  “We’d never hurt you, Scharlie,” Garrett murmured as he came to her side.

  She swallowed thickly, her heart racing. “How do I know that? How do I know everything you’ve told me hasn’t been a lie?”

  “Perfectly good question,” Cassidy said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a locket. He held it out to her.

  Scharlie knew that locket. It had belonged to her mother. With shaking hands, she took it, her thumb rubbing over the gold filigree lid. Carefully, reverently, she opened it and saw her baby portrait, as well as Harlow’s, side by side.

  “He once told me that you had been the most beautiful baby,” Cassidy said in a soft voice. “And that you rarely ever cried. All he had to do was pick you up, and you’d laugh.”

  Tears streamed down her cheeks. He had said that to her once as well, teasingly, of course. He was always teasing her. She couldn’t imagine he would share information like that unless they were really close friends.

  “Thank you,” she whispered and closed the locket.

  “Harlow wanted me to give that back to you,” he said.

  She cleared her throat and wiped at the tears with the back of her hands. “Um, right. Let’s get some sleep. Maybe someone will come in the morning.”

  She ignored the knowing look that Cassidy flashed to Garrett.

  Chapter Five

  The dream was delicious.

  They were dancing, she and Cassidy. As the music wore on, Scharlie lost her cares, and she gradually noticed that his moves and her moves settled into one rhythm of hips moving in sync, dipping and swaying to more than just the rhythmic beat of the instruments.

  She looked into his eyes and saw he was looking straight into hers, their clear blue melting into a hazy strip of something fierce. Desire, potent and electric, burned through her.

  With her eyes focused on Cassidy, she felt rather than saw Garrett move in behind her, the two of them sandwiching her in a pulsating drumbeat that never faltered. When Garrett’s hips pushed into her bottom, her hips pushed into Cassidy’s, and the dance continued on.

  Something exploded deep within. She reached out and grabbed Cassidy’s face, urging him to lean down to kiss her. She wound her arms around his neck, trapping his hands to her face. Her tongue moved into his mouth, dueling with his for dominance…twisting, sweeping. Her body never stopped moving, except the movements now were tiny whispers of urgent pushes, as if she was seeking something, urging her closer to the flame.

  Garrett’s hands settled on her hips and molded his groin into her backside. Slowly, he ran his hands up her side until his fingers rested right beneath her breasts. His fingers spread wide over her nipples, teasing them into hard little pebbles. She moaned, wanting more, but he tortured her by only brushing them lightly. Instead, his mouth settled against her neck, nibbling over the sensitive skin. His tongue swept up and down in small circles.

  She whimpered.

  Her eyes flew open then had to blink against seeing Cassidy’s resting face very close to hers. She swallowed and turned her head very slowly. Garrett’s big body lay on her other side, and the reality that her dream had a basis in fact caused the heat inside her belly to fan into a flame.

  She felt moisture instantly between her thighs as an ache of longing hit her femininity. Dear God, she wanted them! It was exactly like in her book, being in the middle of both men while they ravished her until pleasure made her faint with satisfaction.

  Biting back another whimper, she carefully, noiselessly, rose from the sleeping pallet. But there was nowhere to go in the small cellar to escape. She lit a lamp to give light and took advantage of them sleeping to use the latrine.

  She sat on one of the steps and watched them sleep. Awake, they were powerful men, exuding a sense of dangerous power. But in repose, their faces softened, and the hard shell surrounding them wasn’t quite as brittle. Cassidy lay on his side, his arms wrapped around himself, while Garrett lay sprawled on his back, one hand above his head.

  She saw that their gun belts were off, though each pearl handle lay within reach. The leather on the belts was worn, the tie-downs soft from use. These men weren’t just ranch workers, she concluded. She’d bet anything that these men knew what it felt like to kill, so it begged the question of what was Harlow’s actual involvement with them?

  Cassidy moved a bit. Scharlie’s gaze snapped back to him. He stretched, scratched his chest, yawned, and opened his eyes. He looked confusedly around the cellar before his own gaze zeroed on her. He sat up and gave her a lopsided grin.

  “Mornin’,” he said, his voice husky. “I haven’t slept like that in years.”

  “Like what?”

  “Deeply. Usually I always sleep with one eye open.”

  “Or we take turns at watch,” Garrett murmured. He stretched as well before sitting up. He rolled his head on his neck and flexed his shoulders to loosen the muscles.

  The revelation only confirmed Scharlie’s suspicions. But instead of making her feel frightened, she felt only sadness that Harlow had been reduced to breaking the law to survive.

  Each man took a turn at the latrine, causing Scharlie to blush a bit and turn away as much as she could in the small area. She busied herself by checking out the food to see what would be best for breakfast.

  “I’ve got some pickled eggs in here,” she said, pulling down a jar.

  She had to smile at Garrett as he grimaced after eating one. �
��I’m much more a fried eggs man,” he said.

  “And potatoes,” Cassidy replied as he ate another one. “Garrett loves fried potatoes.”

  “But beggars can’t be choosy,” Garrett muttered.

  “What’s your favorite breakfast?” she asked Cassidy.

  “Anything I don’t have to cook,” he said with a chuckle.

  After eating, the men tried the door again, but no matter how hard they pushed, it didn’t budge. Garrett managed to produce a deck of cards from his vest pocket, and that proved to be a blessing, as there wasn’t much else to do.

  “Does this beat your full house?” Scharlie asked innocently, showing her five cards.

  Garrett scowled and tossed down his cards. “A straight beats almost anything. Are you sure you’ve never played?”

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t know how to win,” she teased.

  “That doesn’t even make sense,” Cassidy remarked. He had folded almost at once and watched the rest of the game in amusement. So far, out of the eleven games they’d played, Scharlie had won nine.

  “Tell me your secret,” Garrett demanded.

  Scharlie glanced from one to another, a smile curving her mouth. “Books.”

  Garrett blinked. “Did you say books?”

  She nodded. “You can learn anything through books. You just have to know where to find them.”

  “And you found a book on poker?” Cassidy asked skeptically.

  “Well, card games in general. But you get the idea.”

  “And what else have you learned from books?”

  She hesitated, suddenly uneasy. “Um, lots of things.”

  She saw the quirk of his left eyebrow and the devilish glint in his baby blues. Her naughty secret flashed through her mind, and she realized that her book was perhaps lost somewhere in the aftermath of the storm. She hoped if it was found that it would be too mangled to recognize what it was.

  She met Cassidy’s narrowed gaze and smiled. “I have some wonderful novels, if you’re interested. I just got them in the other day.”

  Garrett picked up the cards and started shuffling them. She watched as he did some fancy moves with them, twirling them around in one hand, then splitting them in half as he fanned them back together. “So, what can we do now?”

  Tension once again instantly surrounded them. Scharlie cleared her throat and brought her knees up to hook her arms around them. Two pairs of predatory eyes watched her like she was a juicy steak for two hungry tigers. Her heart began racing, and her skin flushed.

  “How about we play a game that I heard about called Tell the Truth or Do the Dare?” Cassidy asked.

  She licked her suddenly dry lips. “How is that played?”

  He reached out and took the deck of cards from Garrett. He flipped up the top one. “We each flip over the top card, and the one with the highest asks the one with the lowest, ‘Do you want to tell the truth, or do you want to do the dare?’”

  Scharlie cleared her throat. “And, um, what happens then?”

  “Well,” he drawled, smiling, “you have to either answer a question truthfully or you have to do whatever is dared of you. Sound like fun?”

  “I don’t know if fun is the adjective I’m thinking of,” she replied truthfully. “And I don’t know if I trust you both enough to play such a game.”

  “Come on, Scharlie,” Garrett murmured in a low, seductive tone. “Here, I’ll even go first.”

  He reached out and flipped over a card. It was a three of spades. Cassidy flipped the next, showing a five of hearts.

  “Truth or dare, Garrett?”

  Garrett raised one eyebrow and studied his friend. “Dare.”

  “Show Scharlie your fabulous handstand.”

  Garrett looked around the cellar. “I don’t know if there’s enough room.”

  Cassidy shrugged. “Do your best.”

  Garrett stood and reached toward the ceiling. On his toes, he managed to touch it. Then he bent, placed his hands on the ground, and slowly raised his legs, one and then the other, until they were in the air and his feet walked on the ceiling. Scharlie laughed and clapped as Garrett dropped back down and adjusted his clothes. He was smiling at her as he sat.

  “That’s amazing!” she said. “How did you learn that?”

  “My mother was part of a traveling performance troupe before she became part of the immigrant trade,” he told her. “She taught me.”

  “Your turn, Scharlie,” Cassidy said.

  She picked up a card and flipped it over, showing the nine of hearts. Cassidy turned over a six of spades, and Garrett revealed an eight of clubs.

  “I won!” she exclaimed. “So, um, truth or dare, Cassidy?”

  “Dare.”

  “Oh.” She blinked. “I thought for sure you would pick truth. But what can I dare you do? I don’t know you very well.”

  Cassidy raised an eyebrow as he waited. Scharlie’s mind was blank. Unbidden, memories of the scenes in her book swirled to the forefront of her brain, and a blush heated her cheeks. She shook her head. There was no way she could command him to kiss her, or…or other things. Right?

  “You can ask him to remove an article of clothing,” Garrett suggested.

  The words were so close to her racy thoughts that Scharlie inhaled a gulp of breath too quickly, causing her to cough and sputter a little. Garrett reached over and thumped her back.

  “What?” she squeaked.

  “There’s a game that’s sometimes played in certain establishments along with poker. Instead of earning money, the losers strip off their clothing.”

  A full mental picture of men sitting around, naked, holding a handful of cards, flashed through her mind. “Why would men want to play with each other naked?”

  Cassidy started laughing. Garrett chuckled as he ran a hand over his hair. “Well, sweetheart, the game is played between women and men, so people getting naked is very beneficial.”

  “Oh,” she murmured, lowering her eyelids.

  Cassidy reined in his laughter. “So what’s my dare, Scharlie?”

  “I dare you to remove your clothing,” she whispered.

  “All my clothing?”

  She shook her head. “No, of course not! Um, your, er, shoes?”

  “Just my shoes? That’s not much of a dare.”

  “It’s daring for me,” she muttered.

  Keeping his eyes on her, he brought one leg up and proceeded to slide the boot off his foot. Then he hooked one finger into his sock and slowly pulled it down until his perfect toes popped out. Then he mirrored his actions on the other foot.

  Scharlie cleared her throat. “I didn’t say the socks.”

  Cassidy shrugged. “They’re a bonus—though don’t know how well they smell since I haven’t bathed in two days.”

  The comment managed to break Scharlie’s tension, and she giggled a little. Garrett held the deck of cards up, and each person flipped over the top one. This time, Garrett came up short, while Scharlie was the winner again.

  “Dare,” he said before she could even ask.

  “Okay, the same,” she said. “I dare you to do the same as Cassidy.”

  “I can do it better than Cass,” Garrett replied, and she thought she heard a touch of boasting in his voice.

  Cassidy raised an eyebrow, but waited.

  Garrett stood up, hooked the back of one boot with the front of the other, and it came off cleanly. After he took off the other, he placed both behind him. As he removed his socks, he bent a little to place them on top of his boots, his ass prominent in Scharlie’s line of view. As she looked away, she caught Cassidy smirking at her.

  When Garrett got settled again, they all flipped over cards, and this time, Scharlie lost, while Cassidy won.

  “Dare,” she said before he asked, and reached for her shoes.

  “I dare you to remove your underclothes.”

  Her right lace-up boot fell from her suddenly numb hand with a thump. Her mouth formed a little O.


  “E–Excuse me?” she stammered.

  “Your pantalets. I dare you to remove them.”

  “Not my shoes?”

  Cassidy shook his head. “You can’t refuse a dare, Scharlie. This is a game of trust.”

  She looked helplessly toward Garrett, but got no help from him as he just stared at her challengingly. Should she believe him? Could she do as he asked?

  “I don’t know if I can,” she admitted in a low voice.

  “Sure you can, Scharlie. You’re a brave woman.”

  That shook her. Obviously, he didn’t know her at all. Her chin rose, and she stood to reach under her long, heavy skirt and untie her pantalets. They fell with hardly a sound, and she stepped clear of them. The wool of her clothes rubbed against her bare bottom, causing a tantalizing thrill to race across her skin.

  With a satisfied grin, Cassidy turned over another card, followed by Garrett, and her lastly. Cassidy won again, and Garrett lost.

  “Dare,” Garrett replied, maintaining Cassidy’s gaze.

  “I dare you to kiss Scharlie’s thighs.”

  “What?” she squealed. “Wait a minute—”

  She didn’t have a chance to say any more as Garrett moved over her.

  “Lay back. Relax,” he murmured softly into her ear.

  Scharlie was breathing heavy, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She knew her eyes had to be as round as dinner plates, but she complied, lying back on the pile of blankets as Garrett eased her down. All semblance of the game disappeared from her mind.

  “If you tell me to stop, I will,” Garrett told her as he trailed fingers down her cheek. “But make sure stopping is what you really want.”

  He gave her a moment to think it over. A part of her was screaming to do exactly that, to stop and not go any further. She was entering territory only explored previously through imagination. But now she was being offered a chance to enter that world of heightened passion and sensual delights. Once she crossed it, she would be forever different. The only thing that really scared her was wondering if she would be content to relive the memory when Cassidy and Garrett had gone.

  Then slowly, delicately, each man started nibbling the area behind her ears. Cassidy on her right and Garrett on her left, they gave feathery kisses over her skin, sliding slowly down until reaching the color of her dress. In unison, they each took a portion of the buttons, one man working at the tiny things from her neck to her chest while the other tackled from her chest to her waist. But they must have had practice because before she could examine that thought further, Garrett’s hands were climbing up her legs, pushing her skirt up as he traveled.