Six Degrees of Desperation (Dirty Tricks) by Myla Jackson

Chapter One
    Light streamed through the gap in the wooden
blinds, the beam falling across the rumpled sheets, warming Charli
Sutton's skin. She stretched, her eyes blinking open to the
brightness of the room. A glance at the clock confirmed the time
was near noon. She'd never slept better.
    Charli yawned, pushed hair out of her face
and ran a hand down her neck to her naked breasts, and froze. Eyes
widening, a flood of memories washed over her, heating her body,
sending fiery signals of lust straight to her pussy.
    "Connor," she whispered, her eyes darting to
the pillow beside her. Instead of the studly cowboy, Connor Mason,
a crisp white piece of paper lay in the gentle indention where his
head had lain. On top of the paper lay a deep red rose from
Charli's own garden.
    Her insides churning, Charli sat up
straight, disappointment her first reaction, knowing the note meant
he'd gone. And she'd had such a rush of needs overwhelming her,
she'd hoped he'd be there to satisfy them or at least take the edge
off before she faced the day.
    Had to go to work. I'll see you at the
Cowboy Masquerade Ball tonight.
    Charli clutched the note to her chest and
cupped the rose beneath her nose, the warmth of hope filling
her.
    He wanted to see her again.
    She sank back against the pillow, a smile
curling her lips. Connor had been so gentle and yet forceful making
love, not once, but several times throughout the night.
    A delicious ache centered at her entrance
where the friction of his thrusts had send her reeling over the
edge of orgasm more than once. His lips had seared a path from hers
all the way down her throat, skimming across the swells of her
breasts.
    Charli trailed the rose along the side of
her neck and downward to the tip of one nipple. The areola drew
tight in response, still sensitive from the burn of Connor's beard.
She circled the tip with the velvety smooth petals, spurring
longing deep inside, tugging at her core, sending waves of
cream-filled desire to her pussy.
    She moaned and squirmed beneath the rose,
sliding it lower still, across her ribs, skimming past her
bellybutton to the furry mound at the apex of her thighs.
    His lips had been there too, his fingers
parting her folds, exposing that little bud of nerves, ripe and
pulsing, ready for whatever sweet torture he had in mind.
    Charli's heels dug into the mattress, just
as they had when Connor spread her knees wide and laid down between
her legs, gathering her bottom in his big, calloused hands, lifting
her pussy to his lips.
    The flower brushed lower, slipping past her
dampened pussy, tickling the insides of her thighs. She let her
knees fall open, the cool morning air kissing the moisture pooling
in her vagina. With one hand, she brushed the rose across her cunt,
with the other, she dipped a finger into the heated wetness,
sliding it up to her clit bringing a thick coating of come.
    Not as powerful as Connor's tongue, but good
in a pinch.
    She closed her eyes and remembered how it
felt to have his mouth on her, licking and teasing, flicking her
most receptive erogenous zone, blinding her with such a bright
array of sensations she thought she might die from
overexposure.
    Her finger tapped her clit then slathered it
in moisture.
    Connor had licked her, swirling his tongue
around and around, shooting spurts of adrenaline and desire through
her bloodstream. As it was now, the tingling began in her outer
extremities, traveling with lightning speed to her center.
    Charli moaned, her back arching off the bed,
the speed with which she stroked her clit increasing until the
pleasure bordered on pain. Her finger stilled, her hand cupping her
pussy pressed down, until the orgasm peaked, the sheer beauty of
the sensation bursting through to brighten the midday sun.
    As she fell back to earth, Charli sighed,
pulling up the sheets over her breasts. She dragged the pillow
Connor had used against her body in a poor imitation of the solidly
built, muscular cowboy. She'd much rather