by Unknown
Before she realized what she was doing, her hands came up to halt his progress as modesty reared its ugly head.
The moment fast approached where all of her would be exposed. Scharlie’s heart pounded like mad.
“Sweetheart?” Garrett inquired as he tipped his head so he could look her in the eye.
“What if you don’t like what you see?” she whispered.
“That will never happen,” he vowed, and angled his body up to allow him to lower his head and kiss her lightly, tenderly, upon her lips.
He didn’t demand more from the kiss than what she allowed, and gradually she relaxed. Garrett’s hands ran up her thighs, pushing her skirt up as he concentrated on her lips, and she felt his thumbs sweeping circles over her skin.
He broke the kiss to ease back a little, his dark gaze sweeping over her. Scharlie felt herself blush from head to toe as he became the first man to see a part of her that no one had ever seen before.
“Garrett?”
A hint of her old fear must have registered in his name. He smiled at her and reached up with both hands to cup her head.
“You are amazing, Scharlie,” he said. “Absolutely beautiful.”
Then he kissed her. Not the reverent, soothing kiss from before. This kiss was electric, like being struck by lightning. He moved his mouth on hers, pressing apart her lips so that his tongue swept in to meet hers, in and out, alternating with hard pressure and then soft, going bold and then retreating. It was a duel, a dance, a seduction.
Scharlie fell.
She reached up to wrap her arms around Garrett’s waist, lost in the sensual haze he enveloped around her. This was raw. This was potent. This was sex. After that kiss, after that moment, she never looked back. Finally, she had found the reason she had been born, had been made, and it was all for this moment.
“Your dare is to kiss her thighs.” Cassidy’s voice broke over her like water, dashing away some of the magic.
Garrett looked at his friend and smiled. “I’m getting there.”
Scharlie looked between them, slightly bewildered. “Is he just going to sit there?”
“He, ah, is more of a voyeur,” Garrett told her.
“A what?”
“He likes to watch. To organize while he enjoys the fruits of his manipulation.”
She looked at Cassidy, who watched them with glittering eyes. “But he couldn’t have known the outcome of the game.”
Garrett leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I’m very good with a deck of cards.”
She blinked. “You cheated?”
“I stacked the deck.”
“You cheated.”
He chuckled. “Do you mind?”
With her arms around his neck and his body fitting intimately against hers, she was rapidly losing focus on the conversation. She shook her head. “But I don’t know if I ever want to play cards with you again.”
“Deal,” he said, and then all conversation ceased as he claimed her lips with his.
The kiss was raw, passionate. It dominated her senses until all thought fled, leaving Scharlie on a tightrope of pure lust.
His hands started working the many buttons on her blouse, his big, blunt fingers able to maneuver the tiny holes until all that covered her was her chemise. Garrett broke the kiss to travel down her neck, then to her chest, where the material barely covered her heaving breasts. Then lightly, almost reverently, he took her areola into his wet mouth, cotton and all. Scharlie gasped, her back arched, as he tenderly bit the puckered center, tugging it through the thin chemise.
His fingers came up to open the top of her gown, and Scharlie moaned as he latched onto bare skin. He sucked hard, causing her to just about jump out of her skin. She wiggled and begged for more. There was a direct sensation from her nipples to her pussy, a somewhat unfulfilled feeling that demanded to be satisfied. She didn’t know if she liked the sensation or not, but there was no denying its need.
Just as she wasn’t sure she could stand any more, he released her nipple to trail his lips down her torso, her belly, until he reached the curls at the junction of her thighs. Instinctively, she went to close her legs.
“Let him,” Cassidy ordered her. “Let him see your sweet pussy.”
Raw need coursed through her at the word he used. Scharlie relaxed just enough for Garrett to push her legs firmly open, his mouth first pressing small kisses along the inside of her leg as he circled closer to where she ached.
“Very good,” Cassidy murmured.
Scharlie grudgingly opened her eyes to look at him. She watched him move, panther-like, across the blankets toward her and Garrett. She saw his nostrils flare on the scent of her arousal, and his eyes glittered with his own sexual stimulation.
“You want him to continue, Scharlie? Do you want Garrett to be your lover?”
At that moment, Garrett’s mouth settled on her slit. Scharlie gasped at the unexpected feeling as his tongue took a swipe over her.
“Do you want to be ours, Scharlie?” Cassidy whispered in her ear, seducing all her doubts away.
She moaned her acquiescence.
Cassidy took her by the shoulders and leaned her back while Garrett stood up to remove his clothes. As he did that, Cassidy started stimulating her all over again. He kissed the back of her neck and rubbed his soft cheek bristles against the sensitive skin, causing her to gasp. She had never realized how arousing her back could be.
His hands slid around her, cupping her breasts, filling his palms with the heaviness of their weight. He massaged the plump mounds, teasing the nipples all over again. She thrust her chest out more, her head falling back onto his chest. She lay cradled between his legs.
Garrett leaned over her, kissing his way down her body. He nipped and licked all the way back down to where her pussy lips waited for attention.
“Do it,” Cassidy ordered. “Make her cunt weep.”
With one hand spreading her, Garrett’s mouth descended. He licked his way up and down, over and over, until she thought she would go out of her mind. Her juices flowed, and he lapped them up like a cat licking cream. And then he found the spot that cried for attention, the little bundle of nerves that she had discovered with her hand, and sucked that into the hot vortex of his mouth. She jumped, cried out, and came immediately. The white-hot fire that roared through her caused her to beg for more as her hands reached out for Garrett to urge him to settle over and consume her. She wanted him, wanted him inside her to put out the inferno that raged.
She half felt Cassidy withdrawing as Garrett obeyed her unspoken need. She felt herself laid back down as Garrett’s big body moved over her, reminding her of a panther stalking his prey. His lips captured hers, and she realized the musky taste on his tongue was her, her particular flavor of ecstasy. Garrett pushed her thighs wide and settled between them. Scharlie felt his cock searching, probing, hard steel encased in hot silk.
And then, he pushed.
Pain overshadowed everything for a moment, and Garrett held still as she adjusted to the new sensation of being filled and stretched. Tears leaked from her eyes, and he leaned down to lick them away.
“Take a deep breath,” he murmured. “It’ll fade.”
“It hurts,” she gasped.
“Come on, deep breath. Relax your muscles. That’s it. Just breathe.”
Scharlie did as he said, little by little letting her body relax and accept the huge shaft that stretched her. The pain eased somewhat, but she was still a little uncomfortable.
“Cass,” Garrett said, “she needs a little help.”
Cassidy crawled over and slid his hand down until it found her clit. His finger started rubbing it gently, and Garrett joined in with his hips, flexing in tune with Cassidy’s massage.
“Oh,” she moaned. All discomfort fled at the startling sensation taking place in her most intimate place. Her eyes flew open, and she saw two men staring at her in wonder and in lust. She also saw that while Cassidy rubbed her clit, he was also rubbing his co
ck up and down with his free hand.
Garrett rose above her, his black hair hanging forward to obscure his eyes. From her vantage point, he looked like a fallen angel. Back and forth, he sawed at her, rocking his massive cock in and out, hitting all the sweet spots inside. The muscles in his arms bulged, and she reached up to hold on to their pillars of strength.
Cassidy’s fingers traveled past Garrett’s balls slapping her ass to find her tight hole. His finger slid in, and she bucked at the unexpected feeling of having both holes filled. She wasn’t sure if she liked it, but it definitely added something deeper to Garrett’s thrusts.
He plunged in and out, moving in time with Garrett, using her juices to lubricate and soothe the friction of his onslaught. Soon, however, she forgot to think about anything and just let herself feel. She found Garrett’s rhythm and started to move with him. With each slam of his hips, Scharlie moaned and fell apart a little more. Too many sensations overcame her, and she came with a little scream, falling off the pinnacle into floating stars.
“I’m losing it,” Garrett warned in a low, intense voice. “Scharlie!”
Her vaginal walls milked him as she felt him expand, and then the hot rush of his climax burned through her. He groaned as his hips pumped several times until he collapsed on top of her. She felt Cassidy’s fingers leave her just as she heard him also groan.
Exhausted, she instantly fell into a deep sleep.
Chapter Six
Sounds penetrated through the darkness, teasing her awake. Scharlie opened her eyes into the pitch blackness of the cellar. Only a sliver of light now streamed over the steps. Scharlie scrambled to her feet, mindless of stepping on the two sleeping men who cocooned her on both sides. Cassidy and Garrett awoke with grunts.
“Hello!” she called out loudly.
Feet overhead shuffled about, and then she heard the voice of Sheriff Tanner through the cellar door.
“Scharlie! Is that you?”
“Yes!”
“It’s good to hear your voice, girl! We’re working on getting you out. Your barn is in your kitchen, but the rest of the house is still standing!”
“Oh God!”
“Hold on, Scharlie! We’re working fast!”
Cassidy threw her clothes into her arms. “Unless you want to greet them naked, I suggest you get dressed.”
“Oh! Right!”
Fire burned on her cheeks as she hurried to put on her clothes. She retreated into a shadowy corner and fumbled her way into them. For some reason, they didn’t seem to fit as they did before. In fact, nothing felt right, as if her experience the night before had altered her in some way and she didn’t know how to move about in her new skin.
The cellar door opened, flooding the room with bright light. Scharlie held up a hand to shield her eyes, blinking at the intensity as the darkness scattered.
“Scharlie?” asked Sheriff Tanner.
She stepped forward, letting the warmth of the sunlight bathe over her. She smiled and started climbing the stairs. Hands reached out to help, and she realized that there were several other people waiting for her, helping to rescue her. Tom Kern helped steady her over the debris of what used to be her kitchen.
Scharlie’s mouth fell open as she finally saw the devastation of her home. The kitchen was nothing but a pile of splintered timber and broken glass. The heavy cast-iron stove lay about four feet from where it had originally been, mostly intact except for the vent covers and the flue. The rest of the house had been spared, but the wind and rain had damaged much of the interior, and Scharlie knew it was going to take a while for her to get her house straightened out.
Lost to the saddened sight around her, she almost forgot about Cassidy and Garrett until she heard their boots hit the cellar steps and Sheriff Tanner draw his gun.
“It’s okay, Sheriff,” she assured. “They saved my life. I would have gone to try to protect the animals, but they got me safely inside the cellar before the twister hit.”
She saw the sheriff release his gun and holster it back, but the tenseness in his shoulders never quite relaxed.
“And you two are…?” The sheriff hedged.
“I’m Cassidy Brooks, and this is Garrett Webb.”
“Friends of Harlow,” Scharlie added. “They came to tell me that—”
Her voice failed. She didn’t want to say it out loud because if she did, then it would be real. It would be beyond her ability to pretend that it had never happened, that Harlow would be coming home, someday.
“Scharlie?” Sheriff Tanner prodded.
She cleared her throat. “That he, ah, was killed.”
Silence descended among the three rescuers. Tom and the sheriff took off their hats.
“Mighty sorry, Scharlie,” Sheriff Tanner expressed. His eyes softened.
“How?” Tom asked.
“He was shot,” Cassidy said, but offered nothing more. Thankfully, Tom didn’t press for more information.
Scharlie walked in a daze through the debris of her kitchen. The bright sunshine almost made a mockery of her home. She left all the men behind as she walked through the house, her eyes falling on broken objects and destroyed furniture. She found Harlow’s tin soldier in a corner and picked it up to study it. The little toy was unharmed, and she put it in her pocket to safeguard it.
She exited out the front door, leaving it open, and saw that her barn was gone, along with her animals. In fact, the only one she saw was a chicken that had been staked on a broken piece of wood that protruded from the base of where the barn had been. Tears welled up in her eyes.
She wiped impatiently at her cheeks. She had a little bit of savings, enough to replace the animals. Her stove looked well enough to save, and if she downsized her kitchen, then she had just enough, probably, to cover the costs of repairs. Thank God the majority of the house had been spared.
Hands came to rest on her shoulders. Cassidy had come up behind her to also survey the damage.
“Garrett and I will help you rebuild,” he told her solemnly.
She stiffened and pulled away.
“I don’t need your pity.”
He spun her around. “It’s not pity.”
“A promise to my murdered brother?” she snapped.
“Why are you angry?”
“Look around, Cassidy!” she ordered scathingly, spreading her hands. “In the past seventy-two hours, my life has turned upside down! It’s a little hard for me to take in and remain even tempered!”
She stared at him, breathing heavily, her emotions bubbling right under the surface. She didn’t know if she should cry or yell or stamp her foot. She felt potent rage without a way to vent.
An uneasy silence descended over the group as they just watched her. Cassidy and Garrett, the sheriff, and Tom awkwardly shifted feet, not knowing how to deal with a temperamental female.
Finally, she snapped. Turning her back on them, she stomped over to a pile of splintered wood and picked up boards, throwing them haphazardly to nothing in particular, just using it as a way to drain her frustration. She watched with tiny amounts of satisfaction as each piece of wood landed on the ground in haphazard ways. Just like her home, broken, jagged, and splintered in ways that would never go back together in quite the same way.
And she was frustrated. Bitter, vexed, and wrathful, for a moment, Scharlie allowed herself to wallow in self-pity. Life had dealt her a bad hand. Her father had died young, a heart attack while working the land. Her mother had turned to the first man who comforted her, a mean soul who had watched young Scharlie in a predatory way. He had cut her face when she had defended herself from his unwanted advances. Harlow had gone after him, beaten him, accidentally killing their stepfather and forcing him to leave Missouri. And now, everything was gone. What more could be taken from her? What more must she endure?
The last question echoed through her mind as her anger drained. Scharlie collapsed, tears flowing freely down her face. Strong hands picked her up and cradled her against a hard c
hest. Scharlie curled into Garrett’s warm frame, his heartbeat steady and comforting through her sadness. He walked away from the others, leaving behind the scene of her devastation.
Chapter Seven
Garrett walked with her in his arms until he came to a small stream. Though it wasn’t a significant amount of water, it did provide a wonderful bank to sit upon and relax in seclusion around the tall oak trees. He sat and folded her into his lap. Little by little, the bubbling brook soothed her nerves, and her shoulders relaxed as her tension eased.
Garrett’s hand rubbed the back of her neck. “Feeling better?”
“Yes. This is actually my favorite place to come when I’m feeling troubled.”
“Like now?”
“Precisely.”
“Cass is right, Scharlie. We’re not here out of pity.”
“Then why are you here?”
He hesitated for a moment then said, “For you.”
She leaned back to look him in the eyes. “Why am I having a hard time believing you?”
He sighed. “To you, Cass and I are nothing more than strangers. But to us, it seems like we’ve always known you. Harlow always talked about you.”
“So you said.” She ran a weary hand over her face. “I wish I could talk to him one last time.”
“The Chinese believe that the soul never dies,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “And that burning paper provides material goods for the person who died. If you like, we can have a celebration to honor Harlow and send him everything he needs in his afterlife.”
With tears clogging her throat, she nodded and tried to give him a thankful smile, but it only came out wobbly and one-sided. Garrett, however, seemed to understand her appreciation. He patted her knee comfortingly.
