Lust, Lies and Tinsel Ties

piper. Carson stood alone, framed by the door.

“Needed some air.” Lame excuse, he knew. He’d been avoiding this party all evening.

“Come with me.” Carson held out his hand. He voice was mellow, his face sporting a serious look.

“We can talk out here.”

Shaking his head, Carson returned, “No. I don’t want to talk; I want to show you something.”

Not in the mood for games. Impatience was eating at him. “If you are going to end our relationship,” he told him, “just tell me now, and let’s get it over with.”

Stepping closer, Carson looked deep into his eyes. “Jake,” he said softly, “I don’t want to end our relationship. I want to save it. Now please, come with me.”

* * * *

Waiting gave Bree time to study the room in which she was being held captive. It also gave her time to think about what might be coming next.

Panning the room, it was obvious the scene was set for seduction. And more. A thought niggled that Carson had planned this…but how could he? He wouldn’t have known she would show up tonight. Right?

Oh crap. Was he out for just anyone who would fit the bill? Not her? Was he some perverted sex fiend, and she had willingly fallen into his trap? For that matter, what did she really know about either of them? Jake or Carson?

Not much.

Rich, handsome, and two of them. That’s all she knew. And that Jake had a cock made to please.

So, what about this den of seduction? And why her?

Certainly her mind was just spinning scenarios. Jake and Carson were harmless. Right?

But honestly, what seduction would be needed, when one was shackled to a bed, laying in wait? Frightened, intrigued, and confusingly turned-on all at the same time, she waited.

Hell, the waiting alone was practically foreplay.

Her body was growing hot in anticipation. What was in store for her? The yearning… thinking about Carson and Jake…

Carson. Jake.

Shit!

She wanted them both. Now, that, was a new twist to her sexual repertoire.

Tugging at the leather and tinsel ties that bound her to the bed, she glanced backward at the sturdy headboard and studied the carvings there. The bed was truly a work of art. She found it extremely interesting how a series of antiquated, but quite sturdy, eye hooks dotted the wood.

Had they always been there, or was this a new feature? The way the hooks were embedded, it looked like they had been there for some time.

She arched a brow. All of this brought forth some interesting questions about Carson and Jake’s lifestyle. Was she the first woman to be tied to this bed? Or, were the two men regular participants in extra-curricular activities?

With men and women?

Or, was this their bed and theirs alone?

An uneasy, and unexpected, tingling tripped over her tummy.

That’s when the double oak doors swung open, again, and in walked the pair.

Jake immediately bolted toward her. “What in hell?” He swung back to look at his partner. “What have you done!”

“Slow down, Jake.”

“Let her go.” His gaze swept over her. She watched his eyes. Angry. Hungry. And confused.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Just a little baffled.”

“I needed her to stay put while I went to get you,” Carson said. “I couldn’t take a chance.”

“Ridiculous.” Jake swept a hand through his ebony locks. His eyes were crossed with worry while he held her gaze. That one gesture made her groin tighten. Gradually, he dragged his gaze back to Carson. “All right. So what do you want? Tell me. I’m tired of the avoidance and the deception. But I’m a bit bewildered as to why Bree needs to be here to witness this.”

Cocking his head, Carson stared at Jake. “Merry Christmas, Jake. I love you.”

Bree watched the fixed stare between the two. “I don’t understand,” Jake said.

Carson glanced back at Bree. She connected with his gaze for a moment before he turned back to Jake. “I know what happened. I suspected the moment you stepped out of that hallway at the realty office those months ago, and I knew for certain when you said you didn’t think Conner & Baker were the realtors for us. You’ve been miserable for months, Jake. I know you like I know the back of my hand. So, I arranged for Conner & Baker to be a part of the event tonight. I bought Bree for you. She’s yours. For the night. Merry Christmas.”

He glanced between the two.

Bree felt her chest rise and fall in very short pants.

Carson peered into Jake’s eyes and Jake stared back. To her, it didn’t appear that Carson was mad, just matter of fact. “Figure out what you want, Jake,” he added. “Get her out of your system if you can. Then decide. Who do you want? Her? Me? Or…”

He paused, that last word limping out of his mouth, and then slowly rotated his head to hook directly into Bree’s stare. Her heart tripped a little in her chest. “Or, something,” he added.

What do you mean by that?

Then, she watched as he nodded to Jake and left. A strong click sounded from behind the door. Was it bolted from the outside? Could they leave? Slowly, she pivoted her gaze back to Jake.

Jake’s heart pounded with wild anticipation looking at Bree lying on the bed. Draped in tinsel, her wrists bound by both silver and leather rested on the pillows beside her head. Either Carson had nestled her there between the oversized, red silk pillows or she’d maneuvered herself to where she leaned against the antique headboard, pretty as a picture.

Her waist-length hair fell over one shoulder. Her Santa hat was tilted precariously off to one side. With her knees bent, she sat almost as if posed. Her long, silky legs, still clad with those decadent black boots, beckoned. Perusing from toe to forehead, he paused slightly at her chest, watching it lift and fall in quick bursts. Finally, he settled on her questioning face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Come here,” she said back.

He didn’t know what to do. They were in here for the long haul, he knew that. Carson wouldn’t joke about it. Twenty four hours. He’d slid the old board lock into place on the antique doors from the outside.

“So what are you going to do?” she prompted.

“What?”

“With me.”

Do? What was he going to do? He wasn’t a monster. He didn’t take on a sex partner who was unwilling, and he was mightily against coercion of any sort. Rushing to her side, he sat on the edge of the bed and reached for the hand closest to him. “First, I’m untying you. Then, we talk.”

“Talk?” He glanced down at the scowl on Bree’s face.

“Yes. Talk.”

Touching her was almost his undoing. Static crackled between them as he reached for her far hand. Making short work of his mission, he loosened the nooses around her wrists, leaving the straps firmly tied to the eyebolts. Releasing her now, he leaned back, his fists resting on the bed on either side of her hips. The magnetism between them was more powerful than he wanted to admit.

She smelled heavenly, almost like a Christmas sugar cookie, but the heady scent of promised sex won out. She oozed nothing close to sweet and innocence. His pulse pounded and his mouth grew dry. Slowly, he pulled his gaze to her face and stayed fixed there for way too long.

With each slow and deliberate breath she took, he was drawn in. Unable to separate himself from what should, or should not be, he lifted a hand to palm her cheek. Her eyes closed and she sighed at his touch. His heartbeat