Unraveled- 8 Delicious Tale of Passion

by Fawkes, Sara

  and takes the lemon from my mouth with his.

  “Damn, that’s good.” He sits down, sifts the cards together and slides them to me. “Your deal.”

  Chapter Ten – Connor

  Half an hour has gone by and I’ve only won one hand and the only reason I won was because I got an

  ace and dealt myself a queen. Of course, Connor knew exactly what I had and ended up busting, trying

  for twenty-one. The only problem is, whether I win or lose, whether he takes a shot or I do, it doesn’t

  really matter and I’m not sure what’s worse, having to lick his gorgeous cowboy physique or him

  licking me. It’s all a turn-on—a grudgingly fun, tequila-laced turn-on.

  Despite the fact I’m down to bra and panties, the room is warm, thanks to the fire in the fireplace and

  the alcohol in my veins.

  “Twenty-one,” Connor says, pretending to be apologetic as he flips over his ace. “Sorry, sweets.”

  “Are you hiding cards? You’ve got to be. No one is that lucky,” I complain.

  “And where do you think I’m hiding these mystery cards?” Standing up, Connor spreads his arms

  wide, showing off—quite splendidly—that he’s bare-chested. His torso is broad and hairless and solid

  muscle. His build reminds me of the bull; meaty, strong and powerful, not because he spends hours in

  some gym but simply because he works hard for a living.

  I point at his crotch. “Knowing you, you’ve got them hidden in your shorts.”

  His eyebrows go up. “Is that your way of asking me to take off my jeans?”

  “Nope.”

  He plays with the button on his fly. “You’re dying to see what I’ve got, admit it.”

  “Nope. Not curious at all.” I’m lying and he knows it.

  Tilting his head to one side, Connor concedes, as if he’s a gentleman, which he totally is not.

  “Okay. Fine. I’ll keep myself tucked away. For now.” He pours a shot and leaves it on the table.

  Sauntering over to me, he pulls me out of my chair. “Let’s see,” he says, deliberating dragging out the

  words. “I’ve licked your neck, your chest, your belly, your lips, your sweet, tasty tits...” he caresses

  my nipple through the lace of my bra. “Hmm, what else, what else...” As if seriously pondering the

  situation, he taps his lips with one hand while exploring me with his other. “Oh, I know.” His eyes go

  wide as if he really just came up with the answer. “Up on the table, please.”

  “You suck.”

  “I’m about to, yes.”

  I stand my ground in defiance. Crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Do you need help?” He places his hands on my hips and easily lifts me so I’m perched on the

  edge of the solid table.

  I’m trying to contain my grin. Seriously. I’m trying really, really hard. But it’s hopeless.

  “You really need to work on your poker face, sweet thing.”

  With a hand to my shoulder, he gently pushes me back. “Lie down,” he says. “There you go. Now,

  one knee up.” He takes my left leg and props it up on the table and then presses down on my knee,

  forcing my legs apart. Trailing his fingers from bellybutton to the sensitive skin beside the leg of my

  panties, he pulls up on the elastic and lets it snap down. “This should do,” he whispers. Holding the

  lemon aloft, he squeezes, dribbling juice along the seam between my thigh and the leg of my panties.

  His nostrils flare as he rubs the lemon juice in before sprinkling salt over the damp flesh. Every

  movement is slow and deliberate and I’m suddenly reminded of Wade, of his slow measured

  movements. Of the way he looked at me as he told me to touch myself, asking me what I wanted.

  Whether it’s the thought of Wade or whether it’s Connor’s hot breath on my thigh as he leans over

  me, my right leg jerks beneath his hand. He tightens his hold, spreading my legs wider so that he’s got

  room to move. When he licks me, he does it slowly, drawing circles with his tongue at the top of my

  thigh, darting beneath the band of my electric blue panties, teasing me. His hand slides along the skin

  of my other leg until his fingers dip beneath the other side of my panties, mimicking the movement of

  his tongue.

  My body responds instinctively. I thread my fingers through his thick hair and arch upwards to

  meet him.

  His fingers and tongue delve further beneath the material, meeting for one glorious second at my

  most tender spot. I cry out and jerk my hips forward.

  Connor releases me and stands, takes the shot and then sucks the lemon right off the rind. He’s

  breathing hard and his smile is gone as he looks down at me lying prostrate on the table. “Goddamn.”

  I don’t say anything. I just look up at him.

  “I should fuck you right now.”

  I don’t nod, I don’t say a word. I just stare at him.

  He shuts his eyes and breathes in and out through flared nostrils. Finally he sits. “Your deal.”

  It takes an incredible amount of effort to roll off the table while my body is still quivering from

  his touch. “You play dirty, you know that?”

  “I never claimed otherwise. Now hurry up and deal. I don’t know how much more of this I can

  take.”

  I lose the next hand, of course. And Connor opts for another shot himself. “All this winning has me

  parched,” he explains with a feverish look in his eyes. “Put your hands on the table and bend over.”

  Moving slowly, I do as he asks.

  “This,” he plucks at the blue string that parts me, “Is fucking sexy. But it’s got to go.” He slips the

  string of my panties down over my rump and spreads lemon juice along the top of my ass and down

  the crease. Between the slight sting of the lemon juice and the sprinkle of salt, I shiver in delicious

  anticipation. This time he licks me with less control, squeezing the globe of my ass while his tongue

  sweeps down between the two halves of me. I hear the shot glass hit the table after he downs it, but he

  hasn’t moved away. He’s still behind me, kneading my ass, running his thumbs up and down my

  crease, going lower with each pass.

  I widen my stance but the panties along my upper thighs constrict my movement.

  “Goddamn it, Tess...” His breathing is labored as his thumbs press against my anus and then move

  lower, dipping simultaneously into my pussy. “You are so fucking wet.”

  A spark of pleasure cascades over my back and down my buttocks and I give in. I mean, come on,

  at this point, it’s inevitable. Wade’s not showing up, and by now he must know I’m not coming either.

  There’s no way in hell I can stop what’s happening between me and Connor. In fact, I don’t want to. I

  want him to push my panties all the way down my thighs. I want him to spread me wide. I want more

  than his thumbs inside me.

  Connor will fuck me like some wild stallion, hard and fast, and my pussy knows it because she’s

  quivering eagerly in anticipation.

  But something, I don’t know what, some fragment of lingering desire for Wade, gives me the

  strength to scoot from between Connor and the table. I yank my panties back into place and walk,

  stiff-legged, to the faucet to pour myself a glass of water. By the time I turn around, Connor is seated

  again. The shot is already poured and the first cards are already dealt. He checks his watch and frowns.

  “You got somewhere else to be?” I ask in between long swallows of water.

  He looks up quickly, a smile replacing the frown. “Nope. Nowhere
but here.” He shifts in his chair

  and I notice the top three buttons on his fly are open. “Let’s play,” he says in a husky voice.

  I close my eyes because I know what’s about to happen and I have no strength to stop it. Truth? I

  don’t want to stop it. I want Connor. God, do I want him. I want to lose the next hand so that Connor

  will unbutton his fly, pull out his magnificent cock and command me to suck it.

  That is what I want.

  I go back to the table, but remain standing as I check my card. It’s a ten. “Hit me.” Connor flips a

  card. It’s a nine. Without hesitation, I say, “Again.”

  Connor’s feverish gaze meets mine. “Really?”

  “Yep.” I tap my finger against the card.

  With a nod, he deals again. It’s a two. Shit. I’ve got twenty-one. Now what? My whole plan was to

  bust, so I could get this pretense over with and just give in to the chemistry that’s been brewing and

  stewing between us all day. Of course, on the other hand, now that I’ve won I can do whatever the hell

  I want with him. I can suck him, or make him suck me.

  Or better yet, instead of covering him with salt, I can cover him with a condom and make him fuck

  me. Oh yes. That’s what I’m going to do.

  I rub the front of my panties and smile.

  Connor notices, groans and says, “God, Tess. You know it doesn’t matter who wins, right?”

  “I know.”

  His smile is beautifully sinful. He deals and lands an ace. “Whatcha got, sweetheart?”

  Flipping my card over, I say, “Twenty-one.”

  Our eyes meet and hold. He flips his cards. I’m still looking into his eyes, so can’t see his cards,

  but I know what he’s got. I can see it in his satisfied expression. He’s got twenty-one too.

  “Looks like it’s a draw,” he says.

  “Now what?”

  “Now we wait.” Connor goes as if to reach for me but instead reaches around and scratches the

  back of his neck, the movement magnifying the fierce strength of his bicep.

  “Wait?” I step between his spread legs, undo the rest of the buttons on his fly and slip my hand

  inside. Jesus, he’s so hard and so warm. “Wait for what?” I whisper, stroking and squeezing. “No need

  to wait.”

  He leans back in his chair and groans. “Holy hell, I’m this close to hauling you off to that bedroom

  and fucking you silly. No more games.”

  “You won’t get any complaints from me, cowboy.”

  Extricating my hand from his crotch, he says, “Tess, darlin’, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  Before he can continue, there’s a firm rap on the door to the cabin.

  I frown. The knock comes again. But it’s not the knock that has me frowning. It’s Connor’s

  expression. He doesn’t look surprised nor pissed off. He looks...relieved. “What the hell?” I ask,

  grabbing my shirt from the back of the chair and quickly doing up two buttons.

  “Here we go,” Connor says as I make my way to the door.

  I know who’s there before I open the door, I know it with every fiber of my being.

  “Hi Tessa,” Wade says once the door’s open. He’s taking in my bare legs and half-done-up shirt. “I

  hope I’m interrupting.”

  Chapter Eleven – Connor

  Wade pushes his way past me and removes his hat as if he’s been invited in. He sees Connor sitting at

  the table, legs splayed, no shirt, cocky grin. Instead of addressing Connor, he turns to me. “Ms.

  Savage.” He looks me up and down, standing in my shirt and panties, just like I was the first night he

  came to bring me food. “Do you always open your door half dressed?”

  “We were...playing a game,” I say, sort of apologetically. Then I remember he’s been pushing me

  away all day and I place my hands on my hips and ask, “Um, can I help you?”

  Taking in the shot glasses, the cards and the tequila, Wade turns his head to Connor. “Did you tell

  her?”

  Connor stares back at Wade and the air in the room comes alive with energy racing back and forth

  between the two of them. What the hell is going on? “Nope,” Connor says eventually. “I was just

  about to when you knocked.”

  “Tell me what?” I ask, looking back and forth between the men, completely confused.

  Wade strides over to the table, lifts the full shot glass, sniffs it and downs it before pulling out a

  chair and sitting down.

  My confused gaze flicks between the two seated men. Back and forth. Back and forth. “Seriously?

  What am I missing?”

  “Don’t play coy, Ms. Savage. You know exactly what’s going on.”

  “Are you upset because Connor’s here?” I ask. “Because, I thought you were with Stacey and

  figured that was probably for the best and then Connor showed up and we played poker and it’s been

  fun and I really like him and...look, I never wanted there to be competition between the two of you. I

  never wanted to have to choose. I had no idea—”

  “Are you going to shut her up or should I?” Connor asks.

  “I will.” Wade stands, saunters over to me, grabs my face, leans down and kisses me. Full on. I’m

  too stunned to do much more than open my mouth and let him take over, like he owns me.

  “Don’t tell me this isn’t really what you want,” he whispers, looking down into my eyes. My open-

  mouthed stare must be his answer. “That’s what I thought.” He tugs on my hand, pulling me back to

  the chair. He sits and drags me down onto his lap. “All day you’ve been thinking about it.”

  “About what?” I say, stupidly.

  “About us.”

  “Yes, well...”

  “Here. Together.”

  “Wh-what?” The word sputters out of my mouth as I turn in his lap. “How did you know?”

  Connor pulls his chair closer. “Darlin’, you’ve got the worst poker face in the world.”

  “It’s because she’s so honest,” Wade says, his arms around me, his thumb drawing circles against

  my ribs. “She can’t help it.”

  “But—“” My brain cannot make sense of what’s happening. “This isn’t what you want. Surely?” I

  ask Connor and then tilt my heat to look at Wade. “Is it?”

  “How do you know this isn’t what I intended all along?”

  “I—” Oh my God. Seriously? He planned this? The whole thing? My head snaps back to Connor.

  “Did you know about this?”

  He nods, the ghost of a smile playing on his full lips. “We talked.”

  I jump off Wade’s lap. I have no idea whether I should be flattered or outraged. I’m too confused.

  Too excited. This is my dream, my fantasy come to life. I have two hot cowboys. Count them—one,

  two—basically saying they want to get it on, threesome style. With me. So why am I not jumping at

  the opportunity?

  I rub my forehead, my tequila-logged brain is having a hard time wrapping itself around this new

  reality. Damn Connor for making me drink so many shots...

  But...wait.

  He didn’t actually make me do that many shots. Maybe only two or three, now that I think about it.

  I glare at him. “I don’t like being played,” I say, trying to make sense of my unsettled feelings. “I’m

  not a bet. I’m not a possession you boys can vie for control over.”

  “We didn’t mean to play you, sweet thing,” Connor says, getting up and putting his hands on my

  shoulders, pulling me close. “We both want you, have wanted you, ever since Todd told us about you.
>
  We promised each other we’d let you decide between us, but you made it pretty clear you were

  interested in both of us.” He dips his head down to meet my gaze. “Pretty clear. But, we needed to

  make sure.”

  “God,” I say, pulling away. “What the hell did Todd tell you about me?”

  Wade stands but doesn’t move closer. “He said you’re the most amazing woman he’s ever met.”

  “He also said that if we ever wanted a threesome, you’d be the perfect candidate,” Connor adds.

  Oh my God!

  How could I be so blind?

  I stare at the men like I’m really seeing them for the first time and I’m reminded of a conversation

  I had with a girl named Ilsa who I’d met at a bar in Berlin. She laughed at me when I was surprised to

  find out that her two best friends, Thomas and Henrik, were gay.

  “You have no gay-dar, do you?”

  “Not really,” I said.

  “You know why that is?”

  “No. Tell me?” I remember leaning forward, intensely interested in what she was going to say

  because this wasn’t the first time I’d missed the signs. I always thought it was because I never cared

  what others’ did in their bedrooms. Yet I’d always been baffled by others’ ability to pick up people’s

  sexual orientation so easily.

  “It’s because you’re pansexual.”

  “Pansexual? That’s a thing?”

  “Yes.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You see everyone, males and females, as potential lovers. You’re not straight, you’re not gay,

  you’re not even bi. You’re pan.”

  “Pan, huh?” I considered her words. “Yeah,” I said. “I like that.”

  “I thought you would.” She slid a hand up my bare leg, beneath my skirt. “Now, spread your legs,

  Tessie, because I am dying to touch.”

  How could I have missed the way the men finish each other’s sentences? The charged competition

  between them. The way Connor knows intimate things about Wade’s sex life. The concern in Wade’s

  voice when Connor stupidly risked his life by flipping over the bull. There have been so many clues...

  I slap my forehead in realization. “You two—” I wave my hand between them. “You’re together,

  aren’t you?”

  Wade looks at Connor and Connor looks at Wade. They don’t need to answer. I finally see it.