Naughty Wishes Part I (7 page)

Though unfortunately, this kind of hurt made it feel that way.

“Sam . . .”

“No,” she said, dashing by him. She hurried down the hall, her movements so uncontrolled that she closed her door harder than she’d intended. She locked it, probably the first time she’d ever done that, and leaned against the panel, holding the clothes against the ache under her breastbone. She couldn’t stick her neck out more than that, could she? Had she gone down the wrong path, been too blatant, too contrived? Up until she’d brought up giving him oral, he’d seemed to be getting into it. She shivered again as she replayed it in her head. Miss Gerard . . . God, if she worked for him in truth, hearing him address her so formally would get her aroused every time.

But this was about more than getting off. If that was all she was risking, she’d have stuck with her vibrator and her fantasies.

Oh hell. Maybe he’d been right all along. Maybe she’d been too impatient and they should have waited for Chris. He had a way of balancing things among the three of them, making their curves and edges complement one another. She couldn’t deny that Geoff’s forte was his intelligence, knowing the best approach or timing for things. Which meant she’d pushed all this, fucked it up. Maybe not irretrievably, but if she’d set them back, if Geoff would now take months before he was willing to even talk about this again, let alone act on it, she might just lose her mind.

What was her forte? What did she bring to all of this? Other than being the one with an aching need to submit to them. And the one with girly parts. A painful half smile crossed her face. She didn’t have Geoff’s brains or Chris’s penchant for creating harmony. She’d thought of
harmony
as a fluffy greeting-card kind of word until she’d met him, but he was the true, deep spiritual meaning of it. There was nothing so amazing, so perfect, as a touch of harmony.

The door vibrated against her back at Geoff’s light knock. “Sam, are you okay?”

She cleared her throat. “Yeah, I’m fine. Listen . . . you were right. We should have waited for Chris. It’s okay. Don’t worry about it, all right? I’m good. I’m sorry I . . . I’m sorry I rushed things. Let’s just . . . We can talk about it later this week when he gets back, just like you said.”

A long pause. She didn’t hear his feet move away. She laid her cheek on the door. She needed to get dressed, but her heart felt too heavy to move. It would pass. It would be okay. They weren’t children, to believe that a moment’s stumble was a complete loss. She was supposed to have the maturity to step back, know that they’d have other chances, other approaches.
As Florence had said, their relationship could weather a stumble or two. She just hadn’t expected a stumble to hurt so much. It told her she’d invested more of her feelings in this one moment than she should have.

“I want to see you,” he said firmly. “Open the door.”

“I said I’m okay. It’s all right. I—”

“Samantha Beth.” His tone made the words stop in her throat. “It wasn’t a request. Open the door, or I’ll open it myself.”

She’d left a terry-cloth robe on the bed, so she rose, slid into it and belted it tightly. Putting the clothes behind the door so they couldn’t be seen as an embarrassing reminder to either one of them, she unlocked the door, turned the knob and stepped back, crossing her arms over herself.

Geoff pushed the panel open, his eyes immediately going to her face. She adjusted her gaze to the space left of his shoulder. “See? I’m okay. No biggie.”

He came to her. She had the bed behind her and couldn’t retreat, though she shrank back. He stopped in front of her. “You’re not afraid of me, Sam. Are you?”

She shook her head. “No, of course not. I’m . . . I don’t know what I am.”

“Look at me.”

She shook her head again, her mouth set, and he sighed. Tugging one resisting hand from her body, he closed his own around it. “Sam, this is hard for me to admit, but I’m as worried about doing the wrong thing as you are. Maybe more, because . . . I
want
to be in charge.” He paused, his voice getting rougher. “I fucking ache . . . to take control of you.”

Her gaze snapped up to his face. When he was worked up about something, the green in his eyes became more pronounced, like emerald sparks. She saw them now. “I want to do everything you said, and way more. I have no idea how you’ll react to all the things I want. And Chris . . .”

“Chris is the one who knows if we’re on track,” she said softly. “I was just thinking that. Thinking I screwed up by rushing this when he should be here.”

Just like that, things were better, connected. She still felt fragile, but now it was the type of vulnerability that made her want to stay close to him, not pull away.

“No.” Geoff shook his head, squeezing her hand. He repeated it more forcefully, touching her chin for emphasis. “Absolutely not. You pretty much melted my brain in that outfit. For all I know, those three files I reviewed might be arguments
to throw out the judicial system and go back to trial by combat.”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing you in gladiator wear. Russell Crowe style.” She gave him a tentative smile.

“Come here,” he said abruptly, unfolding her arms.

He didn’t draw her to him right away. He slipped the loop of her robe first and opened up the panels so when he brought her against him, her naked body was pressed against the fabric of his slacks and shirt, but she could feel the warm, firm male beneath. Dropping one hand to her ass, he hiked her up his body in a forceful move he underlined by cupping her jaw and planting his mouth on hers.

A small moan broke from her lips at the unexpected gesture, the intimacy. The heat and demand that he injected into that one kiss was enough to burn away every uncomfortable second of the past few moments. His lips parted hers and his tongue swept in, tangling with hers, his fingers tightening on her ass and the side of her neck. The kiss, the hold, told her she’d stirred him up considerably. When he finally lifted his head, he kept holding her, which was a good thing, because her knees were weak, just like the romance stories said they should be. As she pressed her lips together, she felt the moisture his had left upon them. His eyes were hot with desire, his gorgeous mouth firm. She wanted it all over her.

“I masturbated on your bed today,” she whispered. “And thought of you and Chris there with me.”

“Bad, bad girl,” he murmured, bending his head again. “Next time you wait until I order you to do it in front of me. Otherwise, I’ll take a belt to your ass.”

She clung to his shirtsleeves, her fingers making fervent caresses of his bunched muscles beneath them, her body straining against every inch of his. His short groan of need told her he liked her aroused reaction to the threat. She’d liked the spanking. She thought she’d like even more things like that. A belt would be incredible. Or a paddle. The flat, wide wooden cooking spoon in the kitchen . . .

When Geoff nipped her lips, finally taking the kiss into a more playful place, she was smiling. He looked down at her. “Why did you initiate this while Chris was gone?”

“Because you’re both tiptoeing around each other about it. You think it’s a contest between you, about who I want to be with. I want you both. I thought maybe if I could get you to see that first, it would help, because, like you said . . . you’re the one in charge.”

She dropped her gaze and toyed with a button on his shirt when she said that. Though she thought these things easily enough, saying them aloud could fluster her. Touching her chin, he made her look up at him.

“It wasn’t just that,” he said. “We wanted you to make choices based on what you want, not what’s safe. We’re safe.
You haven’t had a date in a while.”

After that demanding, brain-scrambling kiss,
safe
wasn’t the word she’d use to describe Geoff. Maybe that explained why she didn’t think before she spoke. “I have a date.”

“Excuse me?”

In a blink, Geoff switched from reasonable lawyer to a hostile-looking male with testosterone loaded and ready to fire. A bull about to charge a china shop might have the same expression. While it thrilled her a little too much to see that reaction, she hastened to correct the assumption.

“I was thinking about that very issue this week, so I thought I should test it, you know, while you and Chris were still stalling on the whole thing. But I was wrong. This tells me I don’t need to do that. I’ll cancel it.”

“No.” Geoff folded her robe over her again and tied the sash, though she caught her breath as he cinched it more forcefully than perhaps he’d intended. Holding the ends in tight fists, his knuckles pressed against her abdomen, he stared down at her, a million indecipherable thoughts flickering over his features. But before she could react or reach for him, he stepped back from her. “You’re right. You should give it a chance. Since Anthony, you’ve stayed pretty close to us, and that hasn’t been fair.”

She blinked in confusion, but irritation replaced it pretty fast. “You act like I just handed you an escape clause. Something to keep you from having to face any of this.”

“No,” he said. “It’s not that.” But his body language was stiff, his expression now wooden. “I’m just trying to be fair to you. Go on the date. Who’s the guy?”

“Mark in the Records department. It’s just drinks at a bar, a group thing. Not really a date.” Sort of. “This is crazy. I’m going to call it off.” After that kiss, she was sure she knew her mind on it, but Geoff was suddenly as far away as the moon.

“No. Don’t. Go on the damn date.” He pivoted and moved toward the door.

“Geoff, what the hell . . .” She heard a hint of desperation in her tone, which kind of disgusted her with herself. Her gut was roiling with confusion, hurt and anger.

“It’s all right, Sam.” He turned at the doorway, met her gaze. “I’m not saying any of what just happened was a mistake. You were beautiful. Perfect.”

If he’d sounded patronizing, she would have hit him with a blunt object, but he didn’t. He sounded conflicted. But she wasn’t in the mood to be kind.

“It’s not me, it’s you?” she said frostily.

His expression cooled. “I need to think about this, just like I said. And so do you.”

She wanted to tell him he couldn’t tell her what to do, but that would sound a little fucked up, wouldn’t it? Given that she was pushing him to take charge of her. She literally didn’t know what to say, but he took care of that.

He cleared his throat. “I’m going to reread those three files and then head to bed. Good night.”

He closed her door behind him, an external manifestation of the internal doors he’d just closed against her. She didn’t know whether to spit, hiss or cry. She wondered what he’d do if she whipped out her vibrator and turned it up on maximum setting so it would vibrate through the walls like a jackhammer. She’d scream out her climax like a banshee. Let him deal with that.

The anger wasn’t enough to keep the other, deeper emotions at bay. Sinking down on the bed, she played with the ends of the robe’s sash and wiped impatiently at frustrated tears. Damn it, damn it, damn it. That set look on his face said the round was over for tonight. She wouldn’t whip out her vibrator. She’d get a glass of wine, settle in here with a book and ignore him the rest of the night. Or relive every single moment of the past couple of hours, when she’d gotten so very close to the place she wanted to go with him.

Goddamn stubborn men.

***

Geoff paused in front of the Naughty Bits erotica store. Most days, he ate lunch at his desk, unless he had to meet a client or have a powwow with coworkers, but today the problem he faced took priority over his work schedule. He’d told Sarah he should be back in ninety minutes. If she could take a whole afternoon for her kid’s award ceremony, he could take ninety minutes to resolve a sexual dilemma about his roommate.

Despite all the arousing things about that scene in the kitchen with Sam, what he kept remembering was how she’d looked when she teased him about Mr. Cade. With her gray eyes dancing, she’d put her hand up to her mouth to hide her smile. Her hair was baby soft, so straight and silky. The strands sometimes caught in the corner of her mouth or on her eyelashes.

It made him think of the night she’d drunk too much at a New Year’s Eve party. She wasn’t a drinker, but in the spirit of the holiday, she’d unwisely downed three tall, fruity drinks with tinsel sparkler garnishes. When he’d heard her throwing up in the bathroom early that next morning, he’d slid out of bed fast, but Chris had beat him there, of course. He was kneeling behind her, holding back her hair as she hunched over the toilet.

“Oh God,” she’d said weakly when she saw him there. “Now my humiliation is complete. Both of you get to see me vomit.”

Chris rubbed her back as another convulsion took her. Geoff estimated about a third of the alcohol, plus the pizza and snacks she’d had at the party, evacuated. “I’m never drinking again,” she moaned. “Or eating.”

He ran a washcloth under the sink faucet, dropped to one knee and wiped her mouth, then a trembling hand that had gotten in the path of the rapid expulsion. Despite her misery, it was clear she was embarrassed. She was a private girl when it came to anything that happened in a bathroom, but neither he nor Chris gave that a second thought. Caring for her was as automatic as breathing to them.

In the small space, he was pressed hip to thigh with the other man, but casual contact between them wasn’t something they thought about, either. Well, Geoff did, a lot more lately, but it wasn’t from a desire to avoid it.

He watched Chris tease her gently as he held back her hair with one hand, stroking it lightly with the other. Geoff expected Chris didn’t mind having an excuse to enjoy those strands of silk threading through his fingers.

She’d worn jersey cloth shorts to bed. Since she was kneeling on the bathroom floor, hunched over, they were stretched out low on her hips. Geoff could see the pink elastic band of her panties and a hint of the cleft between her buttocks.

Since then, he’d thought about that tempting spot quite a bit. Slipping his finger down to trace the sensitive tailbone and going lower, he’d massage her anal rim and make her writhe. He’d oil up his finger and slide it into that tight passage. He wondered if Sam had ever done any anal play.