RopeMeIn (4 page)

“Don’t worry,” Jed assured her with a glimmer in his eyes.
“Harry’ll get his belly up to the bar. Always does. No matter what the game is.
So, what’s your pleasure, little lady?”

“Texas hold ’em. Do you do that?”

“Oh shit.” Harry rolled his eyes. “I am not betting.”

“Harry’s wallet is a bit thin,” Jed chuckled.

“Now that is not true.” Harry feigned hurt. “All right. I’ll
do pennies.”

Jed said, “There you go.”

Will nodded. “Works for me.”

“So you’ll play with us?” she asked Harry, taunting him.

An undercurrent of electricity swept through the men.

Harry felt the zing to the tip of his cock. “Never turn it
down.”

“Tell me, how’d you like the new bathroom?” Harry struck up
a conversation as the showdown round began.

“Distracting me?” she teased. “Hang on. Let me hear your
calls.” Cara drummed her fingers on the table, nigh unto tasting her win. The
last to reveal her five-card hand, she waited while the men deliberated their
moves.

Dinner had been the best time she’d had with men in months.
Hell,
years
. They were funny, dear, easy with each other. And her. She
caught their surreptitious glances at her cleavage too. The attention was
thrilling. Her body seemed to hum with the attention. Her mind, fully engaged,
had only occasionally noted the wild rain drilling down on the roof. She still
wore Jed’s robe, a necessity or close to it. Beneath it she had put on her
white lace bra and matching panties. So what if her breasts seemed like twice
the size and hard as concrete with the sly little looks of appreciation she got
from the men?

Damn good thing she had gotten a decent deal with her first
two cards. Even now she waited breathless, not wanting the evening to end, but
tickled that she could show them her talent at cards. Maybe they’d invite her
back for a rematch and she could teach them a few things. Even funny Harry who
disclaimed any slyness.

They each played cards with humor. Will gave no tells.
Poker-faced was a term that fit him. Quiet, he concentrated on the cards and
the board like a laser. Jed, on the other hand, tried very hard not to give
away his thoughts. His efforts at diplomacy showed in a
savoir faire
attitude that told her he was anxious. Harry had other things on his mind. Her.
She stifled a giggle. He concentrated on her robe and the boost her bra gave
her breasts.

“Earth to Harry,” Jed called to him. “What’s your bet?”

Harry grumbled, then threw in five pennies.

Jed snorted. Threw in ten.

“High finance,” Will grunted and scratched his cheek as he
deliberated.

“Yeah,” Jed chimed in. “What do you think of our bathroom
design?”

“Well,” she began with the aspect that had captured her most
about it. “It’s certainly big enough for the three of you.”

“Smart cookie,” Harry said. “Did you make use of the jets
and the hand showers?”

Her cheeks flamed. Her chest rose and fell with rapid
breaths. Could they know that she had pleasured herself in there? That the room
was made for decadent pleasure? Of course they would suspect. They were savvy
about women.
And me
.
And I’ve just spent the last few hours enveloped
in their charming company.
They designed the bathroom in sumptuous style.
Why not for the three of them to enjoy with one woman or more?

She licked her lips, long and slow. “Do you have parties in
there?”

“
Very smart cookie,” Harry praised her and crossed
his arms.

“We’re waiting for the right time,” Will confessed, blunt as
ever.

“And the right person to enjoy it with,” Harry elaborated,
his gaze locked on hers, the implication that the only woman he meant to invite
to that room was her.

She absorbed that. One second. Two seconds. Thr—

She stood, pushing back her chair so violently it teetered
on its back legs. Her robe—Jed’s robe—gaped open but her mind was in the
gorgeous bathroom, the shower, the chaise, the possibilities of having a party
in there. Naked. Wet. With one of them. Two of them? All of them?

Jed threw down his cards.

Will moaned.

Harry just admired her display, his eyes burning every part
of her, sending her up in flames that scorched and told her what he wanted from
her.

Was she scared or tempted? Teasing them or testing them?

Yes, Harry had forced the issue. The storm wouldn’t last
forever. And as he had said, he was not a patient man.

Was she a patient woman? Should she be?

She was nearly naked and the opportunity to have them all to
herself to fire her up, make them all burn together brightly could never be
more perfect.

But she grabbed the front of the robe, tugged it closed and
fled toward the bathroom.

Chapter Four

“Let me in, Cara.”

Jed. That’s Jed at the door.

She backed up to the far wall. One hand to her mouth, one to
her heart.

He rattled the door handle. “Cara, let me talk to you.”

She was trapped here. Who knew she was at the Rocking M? No
one. She hadn’t told anyone where she was going. Hadn’t been able to call. But
the MacRaes couldn’t have been planning what she thought they were. She’d come
here today unannounced. She’d been in town only two months. These men didn’t
know her. Not really. She was so different from the tomboy she had been fifteen
years ago. She was adventurous only in business, not in…sex.

True, she’d wanted more from Jeff in bed. She suggested more
than missionary. He’d refused. She had suggested oral. He had agreed to
blowjobs for himself, nothing for her. She’d offered anal. He cringed. Handcuffs?
No. He was stuck in his ordinary little world and his bland heaven.

But now you are here and these three men have plans to
seduce you? And this house remodeling that cost thousands of dollars was done
to enchant a woman—or three?

Absurd. What man does that?

Evidently, they had.

They have even gone to the trouble to buy verbena soap.
Could that be coincidental?

“Cara.” Jed again, this time his rough voice more demanding.
Her nipples got hard at the sound of his urgency. Her pussy gushed with
appreciation of his gruffness.

That too is ridiculous.

“I do have a key to the lock, Cara. Open it now or I do it
myself.”

Do it. Show me what you’re made of, MacRae.

Oh who the hell was
that
talking?

She heard the key in the lock and suddenly there he stood,
inside, closing the door and sinking back against it. His smoldering jade eyes
taking her in, warning her, mesmerizing her.

“Listen to me, Cara.” He seemed to croon her name. Then he
took a step forward, slowly, one hand out to let her see he was controlled and
gentle. But insistent.

“Wait, Jed.” She put out a hand. “Tell me about this.” She
indicated the sumptuous bath.

He watched her as if he were a starving man. “What do you
want to know, baby?”

Her cunt flooded at his endearment, her cream dribbling down
her thighs. She felt a tiny scream growing inside her chest. “Why did you
remodel the house?”

“It needed it.”

She shook her head. “Not good enough.”

He took another step toward her. “We three like living
together, working together. It’s a damn big ranch and we need each other. So we
started to draw up plans to redo the main house nearly two years ago.”

“So it’s big enough for three men and…and three wives.
Women,” she corrected herself.

One step closer. “That was probably the original idea.”

“And then?”

“We began to give up hope of finding women who suited us.”

She scoffed.“Incredible. What’s so hard to suit?”

He gave her that bad-boy half-grin of his as he drew nearer.
“We have particular tastes.”

“Like what?”

His beautiful eyes ran down her body and back up to meet her
gaze. “We like our women five-six. Fits our six-foot-two frames well.”

She waved a hand. “There must be thousands of five-foot-six
women out there.”

“True. But few that have gorgeous big breasts with hips we
can hang on to, a small waist and a lovely oval face.”

“There’s more to a woman than the packaging.” Jeff had
valued her for her looks but she wasn’t selling herself short on that basis
ever again. Any man she sought for one night or a lifetime had to prize her for
more than a pretty package.

“True. We also appreciate that you are smart and ambitious.”

“Don’t care for women who sit home all day and eat bonbons?”

“Or the ones who can’t think beyond their next hair and nail
appointment.”

“No Texas princesses for you?” she teased him, delighted at the
way he responded so readily to her barbs.

Wincing, he nodded. “Did you know you are the only woman to
open a new shop in this town in more than five years?”

“No. But there is a market in Texas for great lingerie.” She
waved a hand, her nerves showing, and she hated that. “Heck, American women
need sexy stuff.”

“They certainly do. Men too. Me too.” He tipped his head
toward the kitchen. “And two others who’d like to buy some for the lady of
their choice.”

“But they don’t seem to have one.” Okay, so that was
forward. But she was half-naked, horny and she had to be prickly, didn’t she?
She was no fast lay. “Do they?”

“No. Neither do I. At least not unless I can interest you in
the possibility?”

“You don’t know me.” She gulped. “It’s one thing to love a
compliment, another to take up the offer. You can’t say you saw me at the feed
store and decided then and there I was a good match for a lover? We met only
last week. You began this building project months ago.”

“We three got sick and tired of cattin’ around. That was
sometime last year. We decided to redo the house before we ever knew exactly
who we wanted to bring here. We had an offer from some friends of ours to erect
a special building on the grounds. That got us thinking that we needed to redo
the old house. But you?” He sidled up close to her. “A few months ago, I saw
the picture of you in the
Bravado
Herald
and remembered you. I
took an interest.”

She sputtered, waving a hand. “An interest? Is that what you
call this?”

“I’d call it more than that, but you’re not in the mood to
understand it. So I’ll stick to my statement.”

“Absurd.”

“Not really. Not if you think about it.”

“What am I to think? That you design this wonderful house so
that you can invite women up here—”

“Yes. What’s wrong with a man wanting a woman he can enjoy?
Someone he can spend time with? Every day?”

“Nothing. I’m not used to a man doing much for a woman.”

“Your father wasn’t good to your mother?”

“He walked out on her.”

“I see. And then you had a husband who didn’t pay you much
mind either.”

“Yes.”

“I’d like to have the chance to show you I’m not like that.”

“But by your own admission,” she countered, “you’ve had any
number of lovers.”

“I haven’t been a monk, no. Neither have my brothers. But
that doesn’t mean we can’t want one woman to cherish.”

“One for each of you?” She cast a glance at the door,
flexing her shoulders with an uncomfortable idea. “This feels like more than
that.”

“It might be. It could be. Depends on how we all get along,
doesn’t it?”

“All four of—?”

“I suppose it’s hard to imagine.”

Not really.
“But…but I’ve never been in an orgy in my
life!” Was she sounding a bit scary? And why were her nipples ever so hot and
cold? Why was her pussy demanding she cup herself and stop the pounding? “I
can’t believe—”

“What?” His gaze traveled her mouth, her throat, her
breasts. “That you’re aroused? Intrigued? That you came out to dinner in my
robe and belted it so loosely that my brothers and I have feasted on your bare
skin for the past three hours?”

Caught by fact. She was flummoxed. Amazed at her
self-sabotage. Did she want these three charming men fucking her or not? Could
she chance it and expect they’d satisfy her? Give her at least one grand
orgasm? Her gaze darted this way and that, then to his darkly beseeching eyes.
“Can I leave?”

“Any time, though my brothers and I hope you don’t.”

“
Why?
” She had to know.

He stood right in front her now, one hand to the collar of
the robe that slipped from her shoulder, one hand to her chin to lift her lips
to his. Then he spoke on them. “Because you suit us, Cara.”

“How?” she asked breathlessly, foolishly, hoping this was
not some wet dream of being romanced by a tall, dark, handsome cowboy with the
biggest erection this side of the Rio Grande pressing against her groin.

“In there,” he said, tipping his head toward the kitchen.
“We haven’t had such a good time horsing around in ages.”

“You three get along so well.”

“We do. But we haven’t laughed like that in a long while.”

“Haven’t lost at cards like that in a long while?”

“God help us. We’re inspired by your good company. We’d like
you to stay. For a long while.”

She pulled backward, her gaze on his mouth. His wickedly
talented mouth. Broad lips, firm but soft on hers. A breath away. “And if I
agree…if I let you show me, can I still leave afterward?”

“If you want,” he murmured as he bent to nip her earlobe,
then trace the tip of his tongue down the line of her throat.

She sagged against the cool mirrored wall.

He caught her up in his arms, chuckling lightly as he
pressed her backward. “You don’t want to go anywhere without me having you.”

Her body purred in agreement.

He gave her a little shake. “Say it.”

She sank her fingers in his silky midnight hair, lifted one
bare leg around his and thrust her aching pussy at him, surrendering to what
she wanted from him. “I don’t want to go anywhere without you fucking me.”

“That’s my girl,” he said in gentle triumph and pushed the
robe to the floor. Then stood back.

Her body had been drawn like a magnet to his. At his
departure, she swayed but caught herself to stand. Dejected that he had left
her, questioning again that he would treat her right, she wanted to scream at
him to get on with it or let her leave.
Hell. Like she’d go in this storm?
Not! Like she’d leave without one close adventure of the erotic kind with one
of the renowned MacRae boys? That was crazy talk.

“Never fear. You will learn to trust me,” he told her as
compensation for the loss of his flesh against hers. “You heard me. Now show me
that sweet body, lady. I need to see every inch before I sink my cock inside.”

She bit her lower lip, forcing back a whimper of need and
dismay. His robe pooled at her feet. He wasn’t going to remove her lingerie but
wanted a show. The idea sent a hot shiver up her spine and she smiled at him,
agreement and seduction in her move. “Go on, show me,” he whispered when she
paused, his voice a wreck.

Could he desire her that much? Could he think her that
lovely that his voice would catch? His hands would clench? His breaths would
come in rapid succession?

He might. He could.

She knew she had assets. She’d used them, working in Madame
Therese’s in the Rue la Fayette in Paris. She had smiled and urged men to buy
the most outrageously expensive and fabulously seductive lingerie for their
wives, their amours and their mistresses. On more than one occasion, she had
received requests from her gentlemen customers to model the bras and panties
she showed them. On just as many occasions, she had gotten dinner invitations
and yes, even a few to the men’s country estates to don them in a private
showing. Or for a few friends of theirs.

Never had she been attracted to anything about those
intense, humorless men, except their ability to buy and refer her shop to other
men of similar financial means. None had ever appealed to her physically or
personally like this handsome beguiling man. And his brothers.

“Come,
cherie
,” Jed said to her now, as if he could
read her mind, knew her old desires for a man to sweep her off her feet and
demand she become his. “Let me learn who you are.”

Then, as if his erection weren’t straining those snug jeans
of his, he strolled over to the chaise longue, toed off his boots, sat back and
clasped his hands behind his head.

From somewhere high above her, she heard an old symphony her
grandmother had adored. A lilting piece by a Russian composer came to mind
along with the Middle Eastern fable that inspired it. The story featured a
woman who was a concubine in a harem. Hopelessly in love with her master, she
had never had an opportunity to attract him to her until one day when all the
other women in the harem were ill, she was called to dance for him. The piece
spoke of love and longing, and as the harem slave danced, she entranced her
owner.

Cara knew this was what one part of her yearned to do to Jed
MacRae. Enchant him, if she could. Fascinate him, if she might. And so she
reached behind her, unhooked her bra, let it fall to the floor, then hooked her
thumbs in the top of the frilly bikinis and stepped out of them.

His mouth fell open, his heavy-lidded gaze rising to her
own. He shifted, twirling a finger in the air to indicate she should turn to
let him view all of her.

She moved, the years of ballet providing the training and
expertise to arch and swirl and yes, to preen. As she came round full circle,
she swallowed hard at the look of obsession on his face. Unmoving, his eyes
warmed. His breathing slowed. He seemed enchanted.

Oh this was the way she wanted a man to look at her. As if
he’d never get enough. And if, for tonight, for the next few hours, he wanted
her as madly as she thought he did, she would take that with her as sustenance
for a relationship that might last longer. With him or another. The look in Jed
MacRae’s eyes told her that she was desirable. Enough to make her want to dance
naked for him. Enough to do that extraordinary little act. And applaud her with
the reverence of his gaze.

That kind of adoration, that intensity of attraction, she
had yearned for and had lacked. Had even feared she would never get it. From
any man. And now here she was, back home, getting this from one of the three
men she had always wanted as a kid. Had taken to bed with her at night and
kissed her pillow, calling out his name.

She stepped nearer, her eyes half-closed but solely on him,
and moved to a tune she recalled only in her head. To a rhythm that weaved and
swayed, she stepped to tell him she was as desirable as any harem girl, as
worthy of devotion by him as any other woman.