Page 6 of Three for Me? (Ménage and More 1)

Her mouth went dry, and she swallowed. “B-but we don’t want to… I mean you don’t want to do this. Do you?”

“Oh, I want to, babe. And I think I can safely say that Eric and Raf want to as well. We can win this bet for you, Chuck. We’re unbeatable as a team, no matter what the game. You said so yourself. Come on. Play with us.”

This couldn’t be happening. She looked at Rafael in question. The bastard was grinning from ear to ear. He nodded, agreeing with Simon. Eric tapped her on the shoulder, and she looked his way. “Here. Don’t think about it. Just do it.” He handed her a beer. He had another one? She grabbed it and gulped it down, the cool tang of it doing little to soothe her nerves. She lowered the bottle and looked each one of them in the eye. She had a bad feeling that, one way or another, there would be no going back if she accepted their obvious challenge.

But oh, how she wanted to accept. Could she have her cake and eat it too? Have her fantasy, all three of them, and not ruin a lifelong friendship?

Simon sensed her guard lowering and came in for the kill. “One game, Chuck. That’s all. One night to walk on the wild side. No regrets.”

She glanced around at the other couples, her gaze connecting with a smiling Florenz. “All right, boys and girls. It’s a bet.”

They’d signed the forms and learned the rules of the game. They had to wear badges with a Mayan symbol, to ensure they wouldn’t be arrested by the police, and in case one of the locals had to help them with a clue.

She wasn’t going to get to see the museum or the San Gervasio ruins. It didn’t seem like that kind of a game. She had no idea what it would entail, but after receiving their first clue, she began to get an idea. It wasn’t exactly a Jeopardy clue.

Follow the signs to the dot on your map.

If you play the game right, she’ll end up in your lap.

Rafael chuckled, but the other men glared him into remorseful silence. Simon led the way as they followed the small map they were given. They turned into a tiny alley, past a few men with carts of tourist trinkets who took one look at their badges and snickered knowingly.

“I could kill them if you like.” Eric’s tone was conversational, but the look he was giving the men was deadly. He wasn’t acting like himself at all. Simon was the aggressive one. But Charli didn’t blame him one bit. She wasn’t feeling particularly normal herself.

“No. Save it for the girls when we get back on the cruise ship. Eric, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I won’t think any less of you.”

His laugh was grim. “You think this is about what I don’t want? It isn’t, Charli. Trust me. No, we’re all in. To the end. I just hope to hell we know what we’re doing.”

“We’re here.”

Charli looked up at the sign. It looked like an ordinary bar. Karaoke, beer, nothing sexual about that. “Is one of us going to sing?”

“We’ll lose for sure.”

Rafael laughed at Eric, patting him on the back. “Speak for yourself. I have a fantastic singing voice.”

Simon slid his hand around her waist, guiding her inside with the other boys close behind. It was filled with tourists and locals, all drinking and laughing. In the background she could hear someone doing a horrific rendition of Eric Clapton’s “Layla”.

“You are with the other racers, si?” A small, lovely woman in an alarmingly short skirt leaned into Rafael.

“Yes. Do you know what we’re supposed to do here?”

“Sadly, I do. If you had said no I would have stolen you away. You are muy guapo.”

Eric rolled his eyes, and Simon stepped forward. “It is truly unfortunate. Maybe next time. Can you help us?”

The woman looked Charli up and down and shrugged. “I’ll do my best. She must follow me to Shelly, the rest of you go up the main stairs and see Florenz. Another handsome thing I can’t play with. Ah well. Come on, chica.”

She tugged on Charli’s arm and she followed, looking over her shoulder as the guys bounded up the stairs. What was going on? One shot of tequila from Shelly and a clothing change later, and Charli

had figured it out. “Oh hell no.”

“What’s wrong, dear? You look fantastic.”

Charli’s jaw dropped. Sweet little Betsy from England was wearing a black rubber corset and fishnet stockings. She looked surprisingly comfortable in the outfit. Especially with that whip in her hand.

Shy Dawn was another surprise. Her blonde ringlets tossed and sexy, she was outfitted in a pink and white lace teddy, her bottom completely bare and powdered. “You really do, you know. I would love to have those breasts. But Tim says more than a mouthful is…” Dawn blushed. “No offense.”

Charli struggled to put her at ease, trying to forget her own discomfort. “Having to lug these babies around is a pain, literally. And you look amazing.”

---