He’d gone back to the Dollhouse, of course. He couldn’t help himself. That was part of their allure, those whores. They did something to snare a man and keep him in their grasp—keep them coming back over and over again. It didn’t matter that he’d sat farthest back from the stage, quiet and alone, and just watched her. She’d never even really seen him, but she’d snared him anyway.
And as he watched, night after night, he’d seen the way she would push her tits in a man’s face, any man’s face, just to get a few dollars stuffed down her G-string. They called it lap dances, and they claimed to have rules, but he knew how things really went. Even then, he’d known how women like her made their real cash.
Flat on their backs with their legs spread. He imagined all the girls there would spread it for a man who had enough money in his fist. Of course they did.
Then, one day, she was just gone. She’d up and quit, and he figured she’d gone to someplace like San Antonio or Dallas where the big bucks could be made. After a while, he’d settled down, moved from Morehead to Waco, and got on with his life. He really hadn’t given the blonde too much thought until the day three months before when Miz Conway had brought the psychologist lady around to meet him.
Hell, she hadn’t even used a stage name at the Dollhouse, the way he heard most of those girls do. As soon as he’d heard her first name, he’d known.
Charlotta.
He’d known it was her of course—clothes couldn’t really hide that made-for-fucking body. Oh, she acted all ladylike, but he’d known, with just one look at her, she sure as hell was no lady.
He’d indicated that he was interested in her, playing her game, treating her all proper like. Flirting, the way he imagined a man might with a real lady. That was likely his mistake right there. And what had Charlotta’s response to that been? She’d ignored him, had acted as if he wasn’t even good enough to spit on.
Sounds behind him wove their way into his consciousness. A couple of the stable hands were joking around, and the noise and commotion pulled him out of his reverie.
Gene Harris headed for his office, where he could be assured a modicum of privacy. He grabbed the small bottle of Jack he kept in his desk, and bolted a mouthful. Then he shrugged his shoulders.
She wanted to play sex games with baby-faced Benedict, fine. He knew money when he saw it on a man or a woman, and those Benedict boys wore it like a second skin.
But a whore was a whore, and it would only be a matter of time until Benedict tired of her. Then it would be his turn.
Gene Harris sat back and began to plan just what all his turn would involve.
Chapter 6
“Do I need to change?” Charlotta had dressed that morning with the stables in mind—choosing jeans, tee, and athletic shoes over her usual skirt, blouse, and pumps. She had no idea what Jesse and Barry had planned. If the brothers had in mind to take her someplace a little dressy, she’d need to go up to her apartment and put something else on. She was hoping that casual would turn out to be the order of the day, mainly because it was Saturday, and she was comfortable, casually dressed.
“Not one bit.” Jesse accompanied that somewhat clichéd response with a smile that did all sorts of interesting things to her insides. Then he laughed, leaned in, and stole a quick, light kiss. “This is going to be a very casual date tonight that will include supper at a really good, but casual family-style restaurant. We hope you don’t mind.”
“Not one bit.” She gave his smile right back to him.
“Damn, you’re quick,” Barry said. “I really like that.”
Charlotta had parked her car in her designated spot at her apartment building, while Jesse had pulled the truck and trailer to the curb. Despite the fact his brother was with her, he’d still gotten out of the rig, come around, and opened the passenger door for her.
“It’s not too dusty inside, but it’ll be a snug fit. Plus, as an added bonus, there’ll be the aroma of horse.”
“That’s not a scent that I mind at all.” Charlotta had no trouble getting into the truck, neither did she mind riding in one. Growing up in rural Texas pretty much guaranteed that she’d ridden in more pickups than Porsches. She immediately slid over to the middle on the bench seat. In no time at all she was surrounded by the solid presence of two very compelling Benedict men.
Charlotta could have told them horse wasn’t so much what she smelled. The men themselves had a very clean, masculine scent despite that they’d put in a full day of work. She inhaled deeply and hoped they didn’t realize she was breathing them in.
Neither man seemed to notice as both focused on getting the truck moving. As Jesse eased away from the curb, Barry had his attention fixed on the horses, which he could see through the back window of the truck and the small corresponding window in the trailer.
“Is it very far to Lusty?”
“Not much more than an hour,” Barry said. “Most of that is rural. It’s pretty country, hereabouts.”
“It is. I’ve spent a lot of time in the Hill Country, which is to the southwest of here. That’s pretty, too. But then, Divine is in the Hill Country, so I’m sure you’ve seen it.”
The brothers traded a look. “We’ve only been to Divine once, and that was at Christmas last year, for our sister’s binding ceremony. We’re looking forward to the opportunity to visit Veronica and her husbands soon, though. Then we can see what the countryside is like as we drive there.”
Charlotta wondered about the slight hesitation in Jesse’s explanation. He’d hinted, when they’d been at Lucy’s that there was a closet, with skeletons. She maybe should have told them then, they weren’t the only ones. She should have asked them, perhaps, to let her have a glimpse inside that closet. But she’d held back—mostly, she realized, because she was an intrinsically fair person, and to ask the personal of someone meant you had to be willing to offer up the same in return.
She wasn’t ashamed of how she’d paid for college, for the most part. For the most part. In that moment, Charlotta realized that she was, in fact, a little bit embarrassed about it.
Charlotta blinked. Well, this is a hell of a time for an epiphany. She hadn’t felt shame when she’d told Roger about having pole danced and lap danced her way to paying for her degree. She’d felt…defiant.
I felt defiant, because I was already irritated with his loftier-than-thou attitude about everything.
Huh. Maybe I’m a reverse snob.
Jesse reached over and took her hand in his. He stroked his thumb over the back of it and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“You could ask us, if it bothers you. We’ll be honest with you.”
She realized he’d taken her silence as a reaction to his revelation, and it was, but not in the way he thought.
“Maybe later. I think you were right. Let’s get to know each other a bit better before we open our respective closets. I have a skeleton or two, as well.” Charlotta waited for it, but neither Jesse nor Barry reacted to that.
“There is one thing we ought to tell you about before we get to where we’re going,” Jesse said.
“We’re staying with our brothers, for the time being,” Barry said. “They offered us rooms in their house, but they’re newlyweds.”
Charlotta turned her attention to Barry. He wore the cutest little-boy-embarrassed expression just then.
“So what, you live in the barn?”
His eyes widened. “Yes! How did you know?”
She thought he was kidding until his expression turned serious. “They’d just newly constructed a second horse barn before we arrived, and it’s pretty big, so we closed off the back corner, and made ourselves a bunk house, of sorts. We have a small kitchen, but we mostly eat up at the house. It’ll do us, for now.”
“Eventually, we’ll have a house built on our own land, of course. But right now…” Jesse’s voice trailed off.
Charlotta understood about ranching. “But right now the land and the animals come first. I grew up on my uncle’s r
anch, so I get that. You’re ranchers, so of course getting the business functioning comes first. It makes sense to me.”
“You’re amazing,” Barry said.
“No, I’m not. Not by a long shot.”
“We’re going to have to do something about your self-image,” Jesse said.
Charlotta tilted her head as she looked at him. “I have a good self-image.”
Jesse nodded. “Yes, you do, about yourself as career woman, and when it comes to your clients. But not when it comes to the woman within. Trust me. We recognize the signs—well, now we do.”
That was an odd thing to say. She opened her mouth to say as much but caught a flash of something in his expression that stopped her in her tracks. Talk about self-image issues. In that brief moment, Charlotta read regret and maybe a little self-loathing in his eyes and on his face.
Then it was gone, and she was left to wonder if she’d imagined that. Let it go. Live in the moment. They were having their first deliberate date—she counted drinks on Thursday as being a case of propinquity, a spur of the moment kind of thing.
It was time for her to act like she was on a date. Charlotta wondered if she remembered how to do that, exactly—how to have fun while telling her brain to take a breather and stop analyzing every dam thing.
That is one hell of an occupational hazard.
She inhaled, and then relaxed. “So…what can you tell me about Lusty? I’ve heard that ménage marriages are considered normal there, and I can’t help but wonder how that came to be.”
“Well now,” Barry said. “We didn’t have all the facts when we first moved here from Montana, either, but Grandma Kate has filled us in—as has Aunt Anna, who’s the curator of the Lusty Historical Society Museum.”
“Good! I love a good story.” She looked from one brother, to the other. Both grinned. Charlotta wasn’t at all surprised that it was Jesse who began the tale.
“It all started back in the late 1800s, when a widowed Chicago businessman, recently married to a cash guzzling new bride, sold his only daughter into marriage, to a man whose soul was black as sin…”
* * * *
Charlotta had seemed fascinated by their recitation of the history of Lusty. In fact, she seemed fascinated with everything. She also proved her background growing up around livestock when they pulled into the ranch, by helping them with the horses.
Domino, Jesse’s gelding, took a shine to her. Can’t blame the horse. Barry’s mare, Dancer, appeared to be just as eager for her attention. They’d brought two other horses with them from Montana when they relocated—both of them quarter horses, mares—with a view to not only having the spares should they be needed, but breeding them down the road as well.
Once the horses were unloaded and walked for a few minutes, they turned them out to pasture. Charlotta hoisted herself up onto the bottom rail and watched as both animals frolicked and greeted their fellow equines. Then they settled down, clearly happy to be home.
Damn shame we can’t stand or trust Gene Harris. Otherwise we could overnight the horses at Tall Oaks on a Saturday night, and stay in town with Charlotta.
Charlotta turned her attention to the ranch yard. “So, which of these two buildings is home to you cowboys?”
Barry chuckled at the question. “The larger one. Come on, we’ll give you the nickel tour.”
They took her to the back door, passing by their makeshift patio area, and entered into their small kitchen.
“Oh! This is nice!”
Their kitchen had a sink and fridge and two burners built into a countertop. A microwave oven rounded out their culinary tools. The construction and fittings were all new, and yes, nice. Jesse tried to view the area from Charlotta’s prospective, but found he couldn’t.
They’d only been in Texas little more than a month, but already, this was home.
He and Barry stood back as she wandered their small living space—well it was small compared to the Montana homestead.
The kitchen led to a sitting area, which featured a loveseat, two recliners, and their one luxury item—a large, state-of-the-art HDTV. The bathroom facilities were off the bedroom they shared, equipped with two double beds, two nightstands, and two dressers.
If they’d hired on to a large ranch back home, they’d be bunking with a lot of other men in the bunkhouse. In the summer, they often took to one of the line shacks for weeks at a time, as they took care of the herd.
They were used to sharing space with each other.
Everything here was new and fresh, and since neither he nor his brother were slobs, their entire living area was tidy.
“You have more room than I do in my apartment,” Charlotta said. Then she grinned. “And my washer and dryer are in my bathroom, too.”
Jesse laughed. The space they had now was nothing compared to what they were going to build. They had money saved up. They had always been savers rather than spenders, not to mention the trust funds their grandfather Calhoun—their maternal grandfather—had left them. They planned to wait until they’d seen to setting up the ranching operation, and investing what was needed there before building a house.
When they’d talked about it, even before they’d met Charlotta and decided to see where things would lead with her, they’d been thinking in terms of sharing a house.
Jesse couldn’t not think of the possibilities. For him and Barry, plain was good. But if they were building a home for a wife, then of course it needed to be better than plain.
No, we’d want it to be better than plain.
They certainly had enough money to ensure their house included some of the eye-popping amenities their brothers enjoyed in their master suite.
Jesse had never known beds came that big.
He turned his attention back to her comment. “Well then,” he said. “I guess that kind of puts us on equal footing, doesn’t it?”
Charlotta nodded. “I’d say so, except for one thing.”
“And what would that be, Shar?” Barry asked.
“There are two of you, and only one of me.”
“You’re more than enough woman for us both.” Jesse had liked that small taste he’d had of her earlier, so he decided to try to steal a second kiss.
He’d meant to make it as brief as the first, but his lips and tongue had another idea. When Shar moaned and opened her mouth, his lips became greedy, and his tongue anxious to taste her completely. After a moment, he eased back. “Just so we’re clear, Shar, it’s always going to be just the three of us. There’ll be no one else, of either gender, in this relationship.”
“Sounds good to me.” She stayed close, her lips inches from his, and Jesse inhaled her.
“Give me some of that sugar, princess.” Barry’s tone had deepened and Jesse knew his twin was as turned on as he.
It seemed to Jesse that Shar didn’t think twice. She turned, and this time, took a more aggressive role. She moved into Barry, wrapped her arms around his neck, and lifted her mouth to his.
The sight of Barry practically gulping down their woman didn’t cause Jesse even a smidgen of jealousy. Instead, he got even more turned on than he had already been.
“Oh, wow.” Shar sighed and then chuckled. “That wasn’t very sophisticated of me.”
“I’ll take real over sophisticated any day, baby,” Jesse said.
“I feel the same way.” Barry bent and kissed her quickly. “If we’re going to head out to eat supper, I want to wash my hands first.”
Shar looked down at her own hands. “That’s sounds like a plan. Did your mom use to scold you if you came to the table with yucky hands?”
“Our mother scolded us if we came to it in work clothes. We had to shower and change for dinner—not supper—every night.”
“Mine wasn’t quite that bad—well, unless I came in reeking of the barn. Then I had to shower and change.”
They washed their hands, and Shar turned it into fun by hip checking each of them in turn, fighting them over sink space.
Barry made her laugh when he maneuvered so that he stood behind her, his arms snaking around her, his hands reaching the sink along with her own, and fought her right back for the soap.
Jesse managed to finish first, and handed her a towel so she could dry. He liked seeing this playful, kittenish side of her. Yet even here in their barn, tussling over soap and dressed in plain jeans and a tee, there was something regal about her. Barry’s name for her is spot on. Despite her comments to the contrary, he really thought she was more special than she knew.
When they reached the kitchen, on their way out, Jesse tilted his head and caught the sound of a vehicle driving into the yard. He figured that was his brothers and their wife. When Ari worked Saturday at the Lusty Glow Day Spa, Cord and Jackson would often pick her up—sometimes they’d catch an early supper at the restaurant with her before heading home. Ari’s car had been there when they left this morning, and still was, but Cord’s SUV had been gone. Likely what they did tonight as it’s after six.
“The others are home. Will you come and meet them?”
“I’d like that.”
Jesse caught the flicker of emotion that crossed Charlotta’s face, quickly replaced by a smile. He supposed he might feel a bit unsure, meeting some of her relatives bathe same night as their first date, too. He ran his hand down her back and then reached for her right hand. “They don’t bite, baby, I promise.”
“We do,” Barry said as he scooped her left hand. “But they don’t.”
Charlotta burst out laughing, and Jesse thought that was a great first impression for his family to have of the woman he and his twin were already falling in love with.
Chapter 7
So far, this first official date with Jesse and Barry wasn’t anything at all like Charlotta expected it might be. Actually, nothing since leaving her apartment building after the equine therapy sessions was unfolding the way she’d expected, and she didn’t know how she felt about that.
Love Under Two Outcasts [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 6