Monroe, Melody S. - Chelsea's Pleasure [Pleasure, Montana 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Melody Snow Monroe

  “Awesome. I couldn’t have pulled this off without you two helping.”

  Lydia bounced up and down, her hands clasped together. “Wait until you see the decorations. I got balloons and streamers. The bar never looked better.”

  Pleasure was such a simple town. Any excuse for a party was welcome. “Great. I’ll check it out in a moment. I’m just waiting for a few hors d’oeuvres to come out of the oven. Then I’ll take a peek before I get dressed.”

  Lydia smiled. “Luke said I could go early, too, and get ready. I know I’ll be serving drinks like usual, but wearing a costume will be so much fun.” She stopped fidgeting and leaned a little forward as if she wanted to impart a secret. “Did the sheriff or his deputy RSVP?”

  “No one has let us know if they’re coming. I’m betting both Bradford and Carnes are focused on finding Ross and not on cutting loose tonight. I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged. “That’s okay.”

  “Why don’t you go and get ready now?” Chelsea checked the wall clock. “Be back by six, okay? I could use your help bringing all this stuff out to the bar.”

  “Sure.” Lydia was a good soul who loved to help people and helpless animals. She was still trying to find a good home for a litter of adorable kittens, but Chelsea didn’t have time to take care of the little creatures right now and had to turn her down.

  Vicki stepped near. “I’ll get dressed, too, then come back to help you.”

  Chelsea blew out a sigh. She sucked at doing makeup and Vicki had a talent in that department despite not wearing much herself. “Great.” The oven timer dinged, indicating the hors d’oeuvres were ready. “Go. Hurry.”

  * * * *

  “Stand still.” Vicki had been fussing for thirty minutes to get the costume to fit right. “Did your boobs shrink since we tried this costume on or what? This top is too big.”

  Chelsea looked down the bustier. If she exhaled too much, anyone standing over her could see right down to her nipples. “I don’t know how I didn’t notice that. Maybe I should take in the sides. The rest of the costume fits great.”

  “It’s a rental, and it’s too late now. Can’t you hear the band warming up?”

  True, and her sewing machine was back at her house. Chelsea held up the tail to her cat outfit and smiled. “I like it, though. If Luke and Preston don’t realize I’m no longer ten, I’ll eat this.” She waved the fluffy end.

  Vicki laughed. “My money’s on you. That costume leaves nothing to the imagination. Even your crotch is outlined. I wish I had the courage to wear something that tight fitting.”

  Vicki had chosen to go as a nurse, which wasn’t a far cry from her real job as physical therapist. “You look perfect the way you are.”

  The song changed, and the loud beat made the floor vibrate. She inhaled. “Time to go.”

  “Now, remember, act aloof and flirt with the rest of the town. Make your men jealous. If you come on too strong to them, you’ll make them uncomfortable, and no man likes to lose control.”

  “I’ll try.”

  By the time they got downstairs, the mayor and her lover were already there. Pleasure’s leader came as a priest and her girlfriend as a nun. Now that was a fun combination. Standing up at the bar were two women in skimpier outfits than the one she was wearing, and they were chatting up a storm with Preston. Every time they laughed, he reacted with a smile or chuckled as if they were two of the most exciting women he’d ever met. A ball lodged in her stomach at how much fun he seemed to be having.

  Shake it off. It was Preston’s job as the owner to make others welcome, but she wished he didn’t have to act so damned happy. All she’d seen in the last couple of days was a man in pain. Now all of a sudden he’s Mr. Cheer? A girl could get a complex.

  Turning away from them, she spotted Dora, Larry, and Nathan talking with a man she didn’t recognize. Dora had been married to her two Doms for years. Larry held a chain attached to the collar around Dora’s neck. The dim light made it difficult to be sure if the captive was wearing any underwear beneath the thin, white dress, but if Chelsea had to guess, she’d say no. Both men were in all leather and had whips attached to their belts. She couldn’t imagine what their sex life was like if the costumes happened to be an everyday occurrence.

  “Hey, Chelsea!”

  She turned around. One of her male friends from high school raced up to her. Wow. He’d grown a good five inches and had filled out a little, but his nearly white-blond hair was as unruly as a winter storm, and his skin as rugged as the Montana mountains. She’d heard he’d taken over as head foreman at the Three Horseshoe ranch and looked better than ever—though not nearly as sexy as Luke or Preston. No one could beat her men in that department.

  “I heard you were back in town.” He dragged his gaze up and down her body then back up again. “You’re hot.”

  She touched her slightly swollen face. “Thanks.” Vicki had done a masterful job covering up the bruising. Even the mark on her breast had faded to a yellow green, punctuated by two small reddish indents where the teeth had penetrated the skin.

  He lightly clasped her arm and tugged her closer. “You wanna dance for old times’ sake?”

  She’d been about to check on the food but recalled what Vicki had said—make the boys jealous. “Sure.”

  She took his hand and led him to the dance floor next to Dora and her two men. The three were doing some kind of strange, contortion-filled movement that was out of sync with the music, but they didn’t seem to care.

  The current country music song by the Rugged Canyon band lent itself to either being a slow dance or one in which each partner did his own thing. Choices, choices. She looked over her shoulder and noticed Luke staring at her. She pulled her friend close, threw her cat tail over his shoulder, and held on tight, letting the music pour over her. She enjoyed the sensual beat.

  By the time the dance ended, more people had come in, bringing with it a blast of cold air every time the door opened. She thanked him for the dance. An old girlfriend walked in with Chuck. From the way she was clinging to his arm, they were boyfriend and girlfriend, if not husband and wife. Chuck came barreling toward her, picked her up, and swung her around. She laughed at the exuberant welcome.

  “My, you grew up into a beauty.”

  “Why, thank you, sir.”

  The tempo of the next piece turned slow, and before she could find out what Chuck was up to, Preston took her by the shoulder and pulled her to the bar. His touch set her body on fire, but the scowl on his face tightened every muscle. And here, she hoped he’d come over to ask her to dance.

  He leaned close. “Do you have to fawn over every male?”

  She opened her mouth to say she was merely being friendly, but his harsh gaze stopped her. She’d wanted to make him jealous, not piss him off.

  “I’m not fawning. These are friends. I haven’t seen them in years.”

  Preston loomed over her and stared down at her chest. “As for your outfit, I don’t like having the whole town seeing you half naked.” His jaw tightened as he grabbed a handful of napkins off the bar and shoved them into her hands. “Either change or stuff these down your top to cover those nipples.”

  She planted a hand on her hip. “You aren’t my father, and you never could replace my brothers.”

  Oh, shit. The moment her words registered, her stomach churned. She wanted to tell him she didn’t mean it, that she loved that he wanted to take care of her, but when he acted like she had no idea what her costume would do to a man, she contemplated banging on his chest to tell him she wasn’t ten any more.

  His shoulders stiffened and he strode to the end of the bar, poured a drink, and chugged it.

  Dear God, now what had she done?

  Chapter Three

  After a good cry in the bathroom, Chelsea decided to do as Preston asked and cover herself the best she could. With her head high, she waltzed back to party, trying to keep the tears from streaming down her face. From the reaction of al
l the men, her outfit made her look good, and yet Preston treated her like she was trying to get into bed with them all. Did he realize she wanted only him and Luke?

  Since she bet she’d lost any chance of rekindling the affection they used to share, she decided to turn her attention to Luke. At least he never acted surly around her. She’d noticed that for much of the party, he’d mostly been outside, making sure everyone got into the party safely, and ensured the customers didn’t get blocked in. By now, he should be done with his monitoring duties as she suspected most of the guests had arrived.

  She ran her gaze through the growing crowd, trying to spot him. Off to the side, next to the band stage, the reverend had cornered poor Lydia, most likely trying to talk her into coming back to the church. Pleasant only had one organized place of worship, but no one seemed to know exactly what type of religion it was. Some claimed it was a cross between Baptist and metaphysical. For years, the reverend had tried to be a father figure and guide Lydia.

  Lydia was shaking her head. The poor girl was so sweet, but given her mother had been a whore, Lydia knew she’d have to struggle to break free. She hoped the reverend could help.

  “Hey.” Vicki tapped her on the arm. “Luke asked me to tell you we need more of those mushroom things.”

  “Where is he?” And why didn’t he ask me himself?

  “He’s busy.”

  She suddenly spotted him smashed between two women, grinding on the dance floor. She took a step toward him then stopped. Acting like a fool would only alienate him, too.

  “I’ll go get them.” Happy to take on her role of chef instead of siren, she headed to the back.

  She was preparing more goodies on a tray, when Luke came in. He swiped his finger in the near-empty bowl of salsa.

  “You volunteering for clean-up duty?” She smiled, trying to act like she hadn’t been affected by his overt flirting or the grinding action with two attractive women.

  “No.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “Mmm. I’ve never tasted anything so divine.”

  It was only salsa. “I can whip up something special for you later if you like.” Maybe some chocolate sauce I can pour over your body then lick off.

  He patted his flat belly. “If I let you cook for me full-time, I’d be bigger than a house.”

  Her smile faltered. “I use healthy ingredients, not fake crap like artificial sweeteners or high fructose corn syrup.” She resented his implication that having her around would be bad for his health. “If you eat in moderation you won’t gain weight.”

  He rushed over and ran both hands down her bare arms. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Seach.”

  She stuck out her tissue-stuffed chest. “I’d prefer being called by my real name.” Her friends had dropped the nickname when she entered high school. She may only be five foot two, but she was no longer a kid. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a twenty-four-year-old woman.”

  “That may be, but to us, you’re still someone we have to take care of, but I will honor your request, Chelsea.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Keep up the good work. Everyone’s been raving about the food. Pleasure parties won’t ever be the same.” With that he left. The door squeaked and noise from the band rushed in.

  She slammed the heel of her hand on the stainless steel counter. “Damn.”

  She heated more platters of hors d’oeuvres and paced the kitchen while they cooked. What was wrong with these men? They had to know she was interested, so why wouldn’t they respond? Were they trying not to come on too strong for fear of reminding her of Ross? If only that were true. No, they weren’t interested.

  The oven timer dinged again, and she removed the goodies from the oven. Once she deposited the rest of the food on the bar, she stood with Vicki in the corner, refusing to expose herself to any more rejection. Talking over the band, however, proved mostly futile.

  As the food disappeared, so did her joy. Preston and Luke must have danced with half the women but never once asked her. She’d become the invisible worker.

  Around eleven, both Sheriff Justin Bradford and Deputy Tom Carnes came in, stomping their boots on the mat to dislodge the snow. Lydia’s face lit up, but Justin didn’t seem to notice. He made a beeline over to the band. A moment later the music stopped. Bradford took the mike.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention. According to KLVT out of Bozeman, there’s a real bad storm heading this way. I’m going to suggest you all get home before we’re snowed in.”

  The room gave up a collective groan. The end of the party couldn’t have come soon enough for her. Seeing Luke and Preston hobnob with the town put a sour taste in her mouth.

  Justin headed to Lydia. Maybe he had noticed her or else he recognized that single women shouldn’t be going home in a snowstorm.

  Tom headed their way and took off his hat. “Vicki, if you need someone to escort you home, I’d be happy to take you.”

  Chelsea hoped he wouldn’t get his heart broken. She knew Vicki’s heart was set on her two brothers. Good luck with that, given they only got home one or two weeks a year.

  Her friend looked over at her. “I can come by tomorrow to help you clean up if that’s all right by you.”

  “Sure. Go.”

  Vicki smiled and followed Tom out. Lydia put on her coat and waved good-bye.

  The band asked if they could break down tomorrow instead of taking another thirty minutes tonight. Preston said that wouldn’t be a problem.

  Within five minutes, the place was deserted. So as not to look like she was waiting for instructions from her two jailers, she picked up a tray filled with glasses and leftover food and brought it into the kitchen.

  Luke rushed in after her. “Let us carry in the heavy trays. I know your shoulder is still a bit stiff, and we can’t have you break open that cut on your finger.”

  They were overreacting. “I’m fine, but if you insist, I’ll let you two carry the heavier ones, and I’ll clean everything up tomorrow. Right now, I need to get this makeup off my face. I’m sure it’s getting ready to crack.” She smiled sweetly and left, not waiting for him to say anything about her bruised cheek.

  Upstairs, the wind beat against the window, sounding louder than when she was downstairs. A streak of lightning was followed by a clash of thunder. She jumped. Having lightning with a snowstorm was unusual and made her uneasy.

  She entered Preston’s room before either man made it upstairs, closed the door, and headed into the bathroom. When she lowered the top of her costume, the tissue floated to the ground. “Stupid Preston telling me to cover up.” It wasn’t like a few of the other women weren’t showing off their tits. Hell, Lydia’s nipples almost spilled out of her wench costume. Then again, that was Lydia.

  It took some scrubbing to get her face clean, but ten minutes later, she was snug in bed but unfortunately not tired. Her mind raced to all the people she’d gotten to see again. Some of her friends looked exactly the same as when she’d left, while others had grown up. Despite how things had ended with Luke and Preston, seeing old friends had boosted her energy.

  She closed her eyes and attempted to fall asleep, but the howling of the wind and the banging of one broken shutter on the street side made it difficult. After a few hours of doing nothing but picturing Luke and Preston having a good time with everyone but her, her body gave in to rest.

  She awoke with a start when thunder shook the whole building. The loud noise had her out of bed in an instant. She hoped the clanging came from outside and not from something sinister happening inside. Preston was in the living room, sleeping on the pullout couch, so he’d be the one in danger. The noise didn’t sound like an intruder, but one couldn’t put it past Ross or his brothers to seek revenge.

  She slowly edged toward the door through the dark room, feeling her way. She pulled on the handle and expected to see light shining from the water dispenser in the kitchen. Nothing glowed, not even the clock on the VCR.

 
Damn, they’d lost power.

  “Chelsea, you okay?” The concern in Preston’s voice nearly made her crumble.

  She’d been so quiet, she was sure he couldn’t have heard her over the wind. “Yes, but I’m scared.” Damn. That was the truth, but she shouldn’t have told him. Convincing him she was an independent woman who could take care of herself was hard enough.

  “Come here.” Gone was the angry, fatherlike figure from before. In its stead was someone she could love forever.

  Tingles raced up her body at the thought of touching him. Her pussy even got in the act of imagining what could come next. Taking small steps, she bumped into the sofa, turned around, and sat on the edge. From the indentation, he must have been able to know where she was. His gentle hands pulled her next to him. He turned her back to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. She’d never felt more secure or more cared for in her life.

  * * * *

  This was a big mistake. His cock had taken over the moment her peach scent floated over to him. When she told him she was scared, he went into protective overdrive. She wiggled her butt close to his body and he had to pull his hips away, as he didn’t want her to know his dick was harder than the wooden bar. If she realized he was attracted to her sexually, she might succeed this time in seducing him.

  God only knew it had been hard enough when she showed up in that cat outfit tonight looking incredibly hot. What had she been thinking dressing like that for all to see? Every male in Pleasure, whether fifteen or ninety, had fawned over her, desire flooding each face. If he wasn’t mistaken, the lust-induced crowd included the good reverend.

  It took all of his control to demand she cover up. Once he got a look at her pink nipples barely touching the inside cup of her top, his throat had almost closed up. Being ten years her senior, he knew better than to get involved with someone so sweet. The promise he’d made to her brothers to keep her safe was never far from his mind.