“I know, but I also know…it’s been eight months.”
Cait didn’t need to question the reference. Eight months since she’d caught her boyfriend in bed with another woman. A slim, tiny blonde with no curves and not a brain cell in her head. Not that Cait had actually spoken to the bimbo, but it worked better in her revenge fantasies if Brad, the ex, was trapped for night after night with no intelligent conversation.
Not that it would bother him. He was probably getting night after night of bimbo sex.
Cait wasn’t good at bimbo—in or out of the bedroom.
“Now, you’re working tonight…” Heather’s voice interrupted Cait’s thoughts. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t have fun. You look amazing. Go wild. And then call me in the morning.” Heather winked. “I want to hear all about it.”
Cait scoffed. “There will be nothing to tell.” It was work. She had to work. It kept her sane.
It reminded her that scratching “asshole” into the paint of her ex-boyfriend’s car constituted a felony.
“It’s a room full of hot, sexy policemen. There’s always something to tell.”
“Not this time.” Never again. She’d dated a cop once. The arrogance required to face down bad guys was attractive at first, but it also translated into arrogance in other parts of life.
“There isn’t one guy who makes your heart go pitter patter?”
As Heather asked the question, Cait’s heart did just that. And her mind formed a perfectly clear image of Sergeant Rain Lucas and Officer Tanner Webb. Except for the rock hard muscles, the two men couldn’t have been more different in looks. Tanner was blond, gorgeous, soul-stealing sexy. Tanner was a flirt—always teasing, making her laugh.
Rain was…grim. Dark, serious, rarely smiled. He’d been shot on the job more than a year ago and was just now returning to light duty. Every time she’d tried to engage him in conversation, he’d growled or ignored her completely.
But something in his eyes just made her want to draw him out, bring a smile to those wicked, hard lips.
The fluttering in her chest slipped down into her pussy, heating and reminding the recently neglected area there was more to life outside of work. She could feel the panel of her red panties dampen. The thought only made the ache worse.
Rain or Tanner—either one, both—pulling down her panties, bending her over and—
“There is!” Heather accused. “Man, did your face just light up. Who is he?”
“They are—”
“They?”
“I mean him, and no, there’s no one. He’s…” Her mind flipped between Rain and Tanner. Such different men. Compelling, each in his own way. “He’s no one.”
Cait tugged on the doorknob, but Heather leaned her weight against the door.
“Doesn’t sound like no one to me. Sounds like you’ve got more than one in mind.”
Cait sighed. “Fine. Yes, there are two guys that…” She didn’t know how to describe it.
“Turn your crank?”
“Exactly.”
“What do they look like?”
“One’s tall, dark and gorgeous.”
“And fuckable?”
“Immensely.”
“And the other?”
“Blond, wicked and…”
“Fuckable?”
“Totally.”
“Well?”
“Well what?” Cait snapped.
“Pick one and jump him.”
“I work with these guys and they are like the captain of the football team in high school. Every girl has a crush on him. The smart ones know he’s just a pretty face. Someone who’ll take your virginity on prom night, but doesn’t call the next day.” She looked at Heather’s wide-eyed expression. “I’m just using that as an example. He’s that kind of guy.”
“Both of them?”
“Well, one I don’t know very well, but I’m sure once he gets back on his feet, yeah, he’d seduce you out of your panties.” Bright crimson panties.
“Ooh, sounds like fun. Go for it.”
Cait laughed. That was Heather’s attitude toward life. Go for it. “I don’t think so. I’m going to get the thing set up, do a few minutes of socializing so Mrs. Warren sees me and then I’m heading home. I’ll call you tomorrow anyway.” This time she winked at Heather, not wanting to leave on a bitchy note. “I’ll definitely need to dish on who wore what.”
She ran out the door.
“Tell Tasha thanks for the dress.”
* * * * *
Tanner held back his sigh as he watched Rain struggle with the bow tie that went with the tuxedo. Rain was getting stronger, recovering from the shooting and fire that had almost killed him, but his fine motor skills with his left hand were slow in returning. The doctors were cautious about a successful recovery and lately Rain had been losing his drive to work his hand.
Tanner knew better than to offer to help. Rain wanted to do it himself or not at all.
It broke Tanner’s heart. He’d known Rain since the academy. They’d become friends, brothers. But who knew if Rain would ever be able to go back on the job?
Right now, Tanner just wanted his friend to get back to life and he was pretty sure he had the cure for that.
“Just let it hang,” Tanner said as he stepped out of the bathroom. The hotel room was a bit cramped. The two beds took up most of the space. He’d convinced Rain to get the room for the night so the two of them could drink and not worry about driving.
He was hoping Rain would get a chance to use the room for something else, but he didn’t mention that. Every time he brought up sex to Rain, the guy just got pissed. Told Tanner to fuck off, that he was doing fine.
But Tanner had seen the way Rain watched Cait Malone. The hot, hungry stare he hadn’t seen on his friend’s face in more than a year.
Well, Cait would be here tonight and Tanner was going to do his best to get the two of them alone. His cock twitched as he pictured Cait. If Rain hadn’t shown an interest in her, Tanner would have gone after her himself.
Tanner and Cait had gone on two dates, but she hadn’t been over her ex and Tanner had been dealing with Rain getting out of the rehab hospital and learning to function at home. The timing had been bad for both of them. He’d always meant to approach her again, but then he’d seen the look in Rain’s eyes.
Rain needed this more than he did. Even if she appeared in a starring role in Tanner’s late-night jack-off fantasies. He’d survive, and just maybe, Rain would return to the land of the living.
Rain grimaced and let the tie fall. He reached over and massaged his left hand with his right.
“We just need to get you a bottle of booze and you can be the drunken groomsman.”
The edge of Rain’s mouth kicked up in a half smile. “A bottle of booze sounds good right now. I’m sure room service will deliver.”
“Oh, no. You’re not getting out of this. I have to attend, so you’re going with me.”
“Have to” was a bit of an exaggeration. He’d helped the chief’s wife with a few things. She expected him to be there, but he could have gotten out of it if he wanted. Which he didn’t.
Mrs. Warren could be helpful. She was a bit of a romantic at heart, and when Tanner had mentioned he was trying to put Rain and Cait together, the woman had gotten into the plan.
Now Tanner just needed to get Rain downstairs.
“We’d better go.”
“The party doesn’t start for more than an hour,” Rain pointed out. “Oh, wait, I can go hang in the bar.”
“No, you can’t.” He grabbed Rain’s left arm and pulled him toward the door. Rain flinched and shifted his arm out of Tanner’s hold. “I sort of volunteered you to help out.”
“What?”
Tanner didn’t let Rain stop, opening the door and guiding him into the hall.
“Mrs. Warren needed a little help and I told her we could do it, since we’re already here.”
Rain grimaced. “Perfect.”
Tanner couldn’t stop his smile. Glimpses of his sarcastic friend were starting to reappear.
“And Cait’s going to be here,” Tanner announced as the elevator arrived.
Rain’s head snapped to the side and he stared at Tanner. “What?”
“Cait. Malone. You know, sexy dark hair, wicked blue eyes.”
“I know who she is.” The tone was cool, but there was no hiding the heat that flashed in his eyes.
“I dare you to fuck her.”
Rain pulled to a stop. “What?”
Tanner stepped in front of his friend, staring him down. Rain never could resist a dare. Sometimes it was the only way to get him to move. “I dare you to get her up to this room and fuck her.” He let his lips bend into a smirk. “Before I do.”
“This isn’t fucking high school.”
“No. In high school I wouldn’t have known what to do with a woman like that.” He grinned and leaned in. “Now I do.”
“You wish.”
“You taking the dare or not?”
“Fuck you.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Hoping that Rain’s masculine pride still existed beneath the scarred flesh, Tanner hit the button for the elevator. “Proof is her panties.”
“Oh fuck, now I know we’re back in high school.” The elevator dinged and Rain stepped on. He leaned against the back wall, his hands plunged into the pockets of his tuxedo pants. “What do you want to bet she wears white panties that come up to her waist.”
“Granny panties?” Tanner tipped his head to the side and thought about it. She had a very stern look about her. And she wore her uniform as if it was a suit of armor. Maybe she did wear granny panties. “Hmm, that will be something worth finding out.”
“You’re a pig, you know that?” Rain said as he stepped out of the elevator.
“Yes I do.”
* * * * *
Heather flipped open the knitting magazine she’d purchased earlier in the day. It was her own little guilty pleasure. Looking at all the patterns she might make.
But it also made her feel a little as if she was an old maid. All she needed was a cat to complete the image.
The front door opened and Tasha walked in. She sighed as she dropped her purse on the couch.
“Long day?”
Heather had asked Tasha to move in with her after her parents had died. The extra person relieved the loneliness and helped with the mortgage.
“God, yes.”
“Wine’s open and in the refrigerator. Help yourself.”
Tasha disappeared into the kitchen to do just that and returned to the living room, collapsing into the other chair. The faint scent of baked cookies followed her, but then Tasha always smelled like cookies. Heather often wondered how she didn’t weigh three hundred pounds.
“Cait said thanks for the dress.” Heather knew it was a little thing but when someone asked her to “say hi”, she did.
“What dress?” The edges of Tasha’s eyes grew tiny little lines as she peered over her wineglass.
“The dress. Remember? I called and asked if Cait could borrow it. We raided your ‘Bridesmaid’s Closet’. It’s for the Secret Policeman’s Other Ball.”
“Oh, was that what you were asking? The connection was so bad, I couldn’t understand you.” She took another sip of her chardonnay. “Did she find something?”
“Yeah, we grabbed that ugly wedding dress in the back.” Heather stared at the beautiful midnight-blue shawl pattern, mentally calculating how many skeins of yarn it would take and how much it would cost.
“What wedding dress?”
The sharp tone of Tasha’s voice almost pulled Heather’s attention away from the pretty fabric. “The wedding dress at the back of your closet.”
“No. You didn’t.”
“Yes, I did. Why? You can’t tell me that’s an heirloom. It was hideous.”
“It’s cursed.”
Heather dropped the magazine. That was one of the few statements that could have distracted her. She looked up. Tasha watched her with wide, worried eyes.
“What?” Heather asked.
“It’s cursed.”
“Right.”
“No, it is. Oh no.” Tasha sank down in her chair and stared mournfully at the ceiling. “What are we going to do?”
Heather rolled over and forced herself sit up. Tasha seemed quite serious about this. “How can a dress be cursed?”
“I don’t know how it was done, just that it is.” Tasha sighed before she pushed herself upright and looked at Heather. “You put it on and you’re destined to find your true love.”
“Why is that a curse?” It sounded pretty good to Heather.
“Because until you find him, you can’t take it off.”
“What?”
“It’s true. The dress can’t be taken off. No matter what you do. It can’t be torn, cut, even burned. Once it’s on you, you have to find your true love or you have to wear the dress.”
Heather laughed. Truly, was there any other response? She couldn’t be serious.
Except the zipper had stuck when they’d tried to take it off. But…no, it couldn’t be. She smiled and waited for Tasha to say it was just a joke, but she never did.
“You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
“And how do we know this?”
“My mother.”
“Your mother?” Heather smiled, thinking about “Aunt K”. Technically, she was Heather’s great-aunt but that got too confusing at family parties. Tasha’s mother was fun and lively. Tasha’s father, on the other hand, was a complete asshole.
“Yes, after she divorced my father. She went into this little shop and by chance tried on this wedding dress. It was more of a joke than anything else. But she couldn’t take it off.” Tasha shook her head. “She was stuck wearing the thing for a week until she ran into Nick.” Nick was Tasha’s stepfather and an all-around great guy. He was seven years younger than Tasha’s mother and so obviously in love. The two were a great couple.
Still, happy as that situation appeared, Heather wasn’t buying it. It was a dress. There was no way it could be cursed.
“How can a dress know who Mr. Right is?”
“I don’t know how it works, just that it does.”
“What if you have multiple Mr. Rights? Maybe there are a dozen men out there who are a perfect match and you just have to pick one.”
“No.” She glared at Heather, exasperation filling her eyes. “It’s one man. The dress only responds to one man.”
Heather chuckled. Sometimes Tasha was too fun to mess with. “I’m sure Cait will be fine.”
“Unless she meets her true love,” Tasha said. Her voice vibrated with trepidation and warning. Damn, Heather felt as though she was a character in a horror movie. Oh what the hell? She’d play along.
“But I thought she couldn’t take the dress off unless she meets him. So we want her to meet him, right?” Heather shook her head, confused and seriously considering more wine.
“The dress can’t be taken off until she meets her true love.” Tasha paused and bit her lip. “But if she meets him…”
“Yes,” Heather prompted.
“The dress will, kind of, strip itself off.”
“What?!”
“Yup. Just sort of falls off. Leaving you standing there in nothing but your panties.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“No. My mother was at work, and boy, was she surprised.”
“The dress takes itself off?”
“All the way down to the undies. At least that’s what my mom told me. You know, later. When I was in my twenties.”
“I think your mother’s playing you.”
“I don’t think so.” Tasha stretched over to the opposite chair and grabbed her purse. “We need to call Cait. Tell her not to put on the dress.”
Heather looked at the clock. “It’s too late. She left here wearing it and the party started an hour ago.”
&nb
sp; Chapter Two
Dear Diary,
I’m so ready for this weekend to be over. The Bridal Ball is tonight and Mrs. Warren wasn’t happy when she found out I wasn’t going to attend. It’s not really my thing. Certainly not without a date. I’m going to sit home, watch TV and drink some wine. Nothing is prying my butt off this couch tonight.
Cait tugged on the bodice of the wedding gown, trying to pull it just a little higher, maybe make her breasts a little less noticeable. But every time she tugged, the material dropped back into place.
Wishing she’d had time to run home and get a jacket, a scarf, anything to provide a little cover, she walked down the wide hallway leading the ballroom, mentally calculating the hours until she could leave. The best she’d been able to do was pull her hair back in a bun during the drive over. At least it wasn’t a wild mess any more.
She sighed, looking at the open doors to the ballroom. This was not her kind of event. It was fun and for a good cause—the families of fallen police officers—but it was the kind of thing she wanted to attend with a date. Not stag. And not while she was working.
If she were just a participant, she would love to attend. Good food, wine and dancing. Hmmm, dancing. Bodies pressed subtly together, close enough to tempt, but leaving so much to the imagination.
She looked down. The shallow peaks of her nipples were barely pressing against the thick silk bodice. She would be fine. Nothing she hated more than walking into a room with her nipples showing through. Usually it was from the cold, but sometimes it was just pure sensual stimulation. Could she help it if her nipples responded to the lightest touch? To hide the reaction of her body, she’d learned to wear thick, padded bras. But tonight, that wasn’t possible.
For a woman of her double D chest size, going braless was an act of bravery in itself. Still, the gathered, elastic binding of the bodice did a lot to hold her in.
“Oh, thank God you’re here.” Mrs. Warren grabbed Cait’s hand and pulled her to the side of the wide hallway.
“Of course. I’m here to help.”
“And thank God, I say again.” Mrs. Warren had a touch of drama in her. “The room isn’t properly laid out and the coat check is a mess.” She stepped back. “But you look wonderful. Going for the homely bride, were you? Because the dress is ugly.”
Crimson (Red Panty Diaries, Book One) Page 2