Naughty Wishes Part I (4 page)

She turned onto her other side, curled up into a ball and wrapped her arms around her pillow, imagining Geoff holding her again. That protective care had been there from the beginning, hadn’t it? She’d been attending State for her business degree when she’d had the misfortune of getting involved with Anthony Williams. Flo had told her that submissives were sometimes prone to getting involved with alpha males who put off the Dom vibes, but who in reality were just overbearing assholes.

“Not all Doms are obvious alpha males, and many alpha males are
not
Doms,” she’d said emphatically.

Anthony didn’t like hearing the word
no
. When she broke off the relationship, he told her she was the first woman who thought herself not good enough for him. Then he started calling her twenty times in the middle of the night and confronting
her at unexpected places: the coffee shop, coming out of her yoga class. His harassment built up so gradually that it wasn’t until she’d lost ten pounds, was having trouble maintaining her grades and jumped at every noise outside her apartment that she realized she had a problem. At which point she discovered the harsh truth every woman who’d ever had a stalker or abuser faced. Everyone’s hands were tied unless he actually did something to her. Anthony was a law student and knew far too well how to skirt the edges of such rules.

So she worked on ways to protect herself. She moved to an apartment complex off campus. For a short time things improved, since she did all she could to make sure he didn’t know where she lived. Then one night, she’d pulled out her key to unlock her door and suddenly there he was, behind her. He was drunk, belligerent and on a rant about how she didn’t know what she was walking away from.

She wasn’t a fool. Instead of opening her door, which would give him the chance to push her inside, she’d thrown the key as far from them as she could and tried to get away. When he grabbed her arm, any reservations about being overly dramatic vanished. She screamed her goddamned lungs out.

He hit her, probably to shut her up, but then his rage spilled over. She hit the wall on the next punch. As she slid down it, trying to cover her face with her hands, he started kicking her, his fists continuing to rain down on her head and shoulders.

Just when the terror of realizing he could kill her before anyone could stop him was closing over her, he was gone. She’d opened her eyes to see a man built like Thor—the Chris Hemsworth version—pluck Anthony clean off his feet and slam him against the entryway wall so hard the siding cracked. Her rescuer wore a T-shirt and jeans stained with dirt, while another man, this one dressed like he’d just come from an office, crouched over her. Despite the differences in their appearances, she had no doubt from the well-dressed man’s hard expression and taut body that he was more than capable of protecting her from a follow-up attack if Anthony got loose. Just as she was pretty sure nothing was getting free of that other male once he had it in his large fists.

The police were called. Anthony was charged with assault and released on bail. A first-time offender with a high-priced attorney, he was sentenced to six months of community service and anger management classes. In the meantime, Chris Montague and Geoff Tywin told her they had an extra bedroom and could use a third tenant to share rent costs. She couldn’t explain why she trusted them so immediately, or how she’d known they’d get along so well, but she moved in with them the same day they offered. The two of them ferried her small amount of furniture to their apartment and had her settled in a couple of hours, after which they shared their first pizza together on the floor of the living room. The local pizza place offered a vegan pie option, and they gallantly each tried a slice before returning to their own hamburger-and-pork sausage blend.

She smiled at the memory. They teased her about her dietary choice, but the two of them had never been mean about it. When they were in charge of the grocery list, both were careful to double-check ingredients for shared dishes. In turn,
she respected their choice to eat meat—mostly—but had gradually migrated them to organic and humanely raised options.

Her move into their apartment was originally couched as a temporary situation, since she was only a few months from graduation, like Geoff. Then Geoff was offered a position in a Charlotte firm. Chris, working for a local Raleigh landscaping company, was ready to make a change, so he decided to tag along. Since Sam had interned with a Charlotte bank and the job opportunities for her were best in that city, they’d found their current rental house together, and that was where they’d been for the past several years.

It had taken her a while to reclaim confidence in her judgment and restore herself mentally and physically. She was amused and touched by how her new roommates became involved in that. Chris brought her vegan cupcakes to help her regain weight and Geoff coaxed her out with him on his daily runs. They were decent, good men.

At first, because of Geoff and Chris’s close rapport, she’d assumed they were gay. Geoff was handsome and a snappy dresser, after all, and there were a reason stereotypes existed—they were often true. Chris wasn’t a snappy dresser, but he had a certain vibe toward Geoff.

Over time, she learned enough of their dating history to know they appreciated women. However, whenever they talked about dating, it was always double dating, and nothing had panned out for either of them into any meaningful relationships. Though she couldn’t point to Geoff making any direct mentions of dating men, she deduced fairly quickly that Geoff was comfortably bisexual. Chris . . . as far as men went, there only seemed to be one toward whom he exhibited that level of interest: Geoff. Yet they seemed solidly based in a platonic relationship, on the surface at least.

If she’d nursed any idea that they were in denial about their feelings toward one another, the longer she spent with them, the more she realized it wasn’t denied as much as it was . . . dormant? Waiting for something?

Around the time she accepted that conclusion, she also realized they were noticing her in a definitely heterosexual way. Though they took care not to ever make such subtle cues uncomfortable for her, she’d grown more conscious of that regard every day.

So here they were. Maybe they were like three plants who’d needed one another’s proximity to flourish and grow, twine together and become one. She sensed they were pretty close to the twining part; she just wondered if there was a fertilizer to speed the process.

Grinning at the thought, she rolled out of bed. Chris was their green thumb. Maybe she should ask him that question. She could just imagine what his reaction would be.

***

Geoff’s text came in later that day, telling her he’d be working late, well past her normal bedtime. Disappointing, but certainly not unexpected. She occupied herself in the usual ways: watching TV, playing on Pinterest, reading in the backyard. In the evening, she texted to tell him she’d set the alarm, punctuating it with a smiley face and several heart emoticons, sap that she was. He sent her a brief
okay
, though the heart emoticon he included made her smile.

Waking Monday morning, she wasn’t sure he’d even been home. A text telling her he’d sacked out in his small office for a short three hours before his morning meeting confirmed it. With a sigh, she showered and got ready for work. As she was heading out the door, she received a text from Chris, saying he anticipated being home later in the week. He’d attached some pictures of seabirds and other scenery from Gulfport.

When he got home, what should she tell him about what had happened? Or would Geoff do it? Tonight, Geoff would likely be home. Did she keep pursuing this with him, trying to get him fully on board before Chris’s return, or should she listen to Geoff, wait until Chris got back and then try to talk it out with them again?

Though that seemed the safest route, her instincts told her differently. She needed to make sure she and Geoff were a little further along. She needed to make sure he was pushed to the point she was—not content to let things stay as they were. She ignored the little voice that suggested it was more her OCD nature than her instincts pushing her in that direction.

She almost didn’t talk to Flo about it at lunch, afraid her friend might disagree and sway her on it. But as they were hoofing it through downtown on their lunch walk, it all came spilling out, in enough detail she was sort of appalled at herself. But she pressed forward with her questions.

“I don’t want to wait for Chris to get back. I want to do something else to throw this in Geoff’s face, make him react. What kind of sub does that? Am I being too pushy? I’m afraid I’m too revved up over it all, not using good judgment. Flo, what happens if I do the wrong thing and ruin our friendship?”

Keeping it all percolating through the morning had obviously turned her into a teakettle about to blow. Flo linked arms with her and kept them moving forward.

“First off, breathe. Second, you need to think about something pretty significant. Yes, you’re friends, but you stopped being only friends some time ago.” She ticked off the points on her long nails. “When was the last time any one of you had a date? Or didn’t spend most your free social time with each other? You’re lovers, even if you’re not sharing a bed. You’ve already crossed that line.”

“I’ve dated. I’ve . . .” Sam trailed off. “Okay, a year ago.”

“You’re a good-looking twenty-five-year-old woman, and you last had a date a year ago. How many have you turned down?”

“A few. But they weren’t really right for me. Sometimes I’ve worried that was because of Anthony. I don’t really trust anyone like I trust Geoff and Chris. Am I using them as a crutch?”

“Only you can answer that. Didn’t Mark from Records ask you to join us at that new bar this week? In kind of a
Let’s see how we like each other in a group
way?”

“Yes.”

Florence shrugged. “Well, that seems a safe way to resolve that question in your mind, but I honestly think you’re just frustrated that Geoff hasn’t jumped in with both feet. And, honey, I can tell you this. You can’t push a seasoned Dom into anything, so the fact he might be new to it but is being so careful with you makes me have good feelings about what kind of Master he’ll be, even if it’s driving you batshit.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Great. Dom bonding. Want to stand in as his proxy and let me slap you upside your stubborn-ass head?”

“Only if you want to draw back a stump.” Flo smiled serenely. “As far as you not taking risks because of Anthony, it seems to me your relationship with Chris and Geoff has strengthened your confidence in yourself, your sense of your own sexuality and what you truly want out of a relationship. So stop worrying so much. Don’t you think your relationship with Chris and Geoff can handle a few strains on it, especially if it helps it grow?”

At Sam’s uncertain look, Flo shook her head. “Let me put it this way. Can you live with it staying how it is? The three of you just ‘friends’ who are fantasizing about one another but not doing anything about it?”

“No,” Sam said resolutely. “Hell no. I’m done with that.”

Flo pinched her arm. “All right, then. Go home tonight and give him that additional push.”

“Isn’t trying to manipulate him wrong? I thought you just said Doms can’t be pushed into anything.”

“They can’t, and if I felt you were trying to manipulate him in the wrong way, I’d be the first to suggest you need to pull back. But Geoff seems like a big boy who can figure out what’s driving you. And in your situation, it might help Geoff to know just how much his submissive wants and needs what he has to offer.” She lifted a shoulder. “If he’s pretty close to being ready and you yank his chain the right way, you’ll get a response for sure. Like you did this weekend.”

Sam remembered how he put her over his lap so decisively, pulling her pajama bottoms out of his way, his palm clapping against her tender flesh. She shuddered a little, a smile playing on her lips. Flo gave her a knowing look.

“Should we take a poll from that homeless guy over there about whether or not you should go home and try to get Geoff
to slap that ass again?”

Sam pushed at her playfully. “Stop it. You’re terrible.”

“And you’re blushing. It’s adorable.”

“Shut up.”

Flo linked arms with her again. “I know I’m giving you some conflicting messages, but I trust your judgment. You’re a smart woman, Sam, and you have a loving heart. I can also tell these two guys think the world of you, so no matter what happens, I know you’ll watch out for one another. But on that note, I am going to say one thing to you that’s really important, okay?”

Florence brought her to a halt, faced her, her expression now serious. “If Geoff’s as new to this as you are, it’s all the more important that you communicate with him. I believe he’d cut off his arm before ever hurting you, so if you go down a road where you’re uncomfortable or afraid, you talk to him. A good Dom wants to know if what he’s doing is mutually pleasurable. Nothing pisses us off like a sub enduring the wrong kind of pain or, worse, risking harm because they’re afraid speaking up or using a safe word will make us end the session altogether.”

“But at this point, I
am
afraid of that.”

“I know. That’s why I’m telling you. If you want to be his submissive, then you trust him to know the right call to make if something doesn’t feel right. All right? You nod or say yes to me, young lady.”

Sam tried to laugh, but Flo’s expression was the one she had when dealing with her own submissives. Sam couldn’t help but squirm. While she didn’t respond to Flo as a Mistress, she felt the weight of Flo’s friendship and concern behind that mien. “Yes. I’ll try. I really will.”

Flo scrutinized her for an intent moment, then nodded once. “In the words of Yoda, ‘Do. Or do not. There is no try.’ Else I’ll kick your ass myself.”

***

Once Sam arrived home, she found herself at loose ends with her restless thoughts. Since she worked from eight to three and Geoff worked from eight to nightfall most days, she was home well before him.