Naughty Wishes Part II (14 page)

“I think it’s time to go home, Geoff.”

“It might be at that. Come here.”

Geoff hauled her up his body and brought her down to kiss his mouth, a demand that made her whimper, especially when the position twisted her onto her side and Chris slid his hand from stomach to hip and captured her ass. Kneading her flesh through the thin denim, he put pressure on the seam between her buttocks with his broad thumb. When Geoff finally broke the kiss, she stared into his intent eyes, wanting that firm mouth back on her.

“That’s so you don’t forget me while I’m gone tonight,” he said. “Just in case, I’ll be leaving something with Chris to remind you.”

*   *   *

When they arrived home, Geoff had an hour to shower and change before he had to leave for his client dinner. Chris flipped on the TV to do some channel surfing while Sam put away the picnic supplies. Geoff’s words had a million wild possibilities dancing through her mind, so it was his fault she couldn’t settle down. She listened to the faint sound of the shower running in Geoff’s room. He hadn’t closed the door to his bedroom, and she suspected he hadn’t closed the bathroom door, either.

“What do you think he’d do if I went and watched him shower?” she asked, coming back into the living room. She leaned against the back of the occasional chair, doing a deep bend over it to stretch out her back and hips. Yoga had taught her the importance of keeping the body limber, inside and out. She had even more reasons to keep it flexible now.

Chris’s attention shifted from the TV to watch her with lazy pleasure. “Since
he knows what we’re going to do when he’s gone, he’s probably jerking off so he can pay attention to whatever bullshit he’s going to have to do tonight.”

She was heading down the hall before she could stop herself, though Chris stopped her with one reproving word. “Sam.”

She looked over her shoulder at him with a mischievous smile on her face and a tight feeling in her belly. “Come with me. Let’s see if he’ll let us both watch.”

She was teasing—mostly. Like Chris, she knew it wasn’t fair to push Geoff like that when he had to go to work. As such, it surprised her when Chris answered seriously.

“He won’t let you watch. Not until it’s his idea and he’s calling the shots on it.” He shifted his gaze back to the TV, watching the screen a little too intently.

How much of this stuff were the two of them talking about, and how much was Chris intuiting? At the park, it seemed he wasn’t ready to talk too much about how he and Geoff were interacting on all of this. Yet when they were of a mind to work together regarding her, the results were enough to dissolve her brain.

Pondering that, she returned to lean against the occasional chair. She looked companionably toward the TV, but she imagined Geoff in the shower, water following the curves and angles of his body, strong arms and defined abs, the taut buttocks. He’d be clasping his erection and working it toward a climax in a loosely curled hand. He’d rock up onto the balls of his feet, his head dropping back to expose his throat, a fist tattooing against the tile as the orgasm boiled up and overtook him, his release fountaining from his cock and splashing onto the shower floor.

To keep herself from sprinting down the hallway after all, she moved to the
couch and sat next to Chris. Drawing up her feet, she clasped her arms around her knees and studied him. He kept his eyes on the screen.

“If he didn’t have to go to work and he would let us watch, would you do it?” she asked. “Would you get aroused by watching him?”

Chris lifted a shoulder. “It’s more about you.”

She wasn’t so sure of that, because of the sudden tension in the shoulder she was leaning against. “Do you think you’re less of a man for being attracted to him? Do you think I’d think less of you if you wanted him . . . that way?” She was going to say
if you wanted Geoff to top you
, but she had a feeling that topic was way the hell off-limits, so she stuck to the safer perimeter. Sex alone.

His lip curled. “It turns you on to think about the two of us together, doesn’t it?”

“Exponentially.”

Her deliberately perky expression inspired a half smile. “You look like a happy squirrel,” he commented. “Why would you want to see two guys together?”

“You and Geoff both like that burger commercial where the two hot girls in bikinis are eating the hamburger at the same time, like they’re almost kissing.” She frowned. “Though seeing two guys eating the same hamburger would probably just be gross, because most of you have the table manners of farm animals. But kissing, or doing other things . . .” She elbowed him.

He sighed and settled deeper into the couch, stretching his arm across the back of her cushion and crossing his ankles. She cuddled closer to him, reaching up to the tense shoulder to knead. A few minutes later he dropped his arm around
her and she laid her head against his shoulder. . “Sleepy?” he asked.

“A little. Too much sunshine. We never did take a nap at the park.”

“Take one now.”

“Don’t want to. I might miss . . . things.”

He touched his lips to her cheekbone, his deep voice vibrating against her skin. “I want you to take a nap because you’re going to need energy for those things. Lots of energy.”

She promptly closed her eyes and affected a snore. He chuckled. “I was right. You’re such a brat. Doze off. I’m right here and you won’t miss anything. Count on it.”

“What are you going to be doing?”

“Thinking about everything I plan to do to you in my bed, soon as the door closes behind Geoff. Which is another reason he’s jerking off. He knows I won’t wait any longer than it takes him to get in his car and turn over the engine.”

She lifted her head and met brown eyes that were no longer mild or gentle. “That makes it really difficult for me to take a nap.”

“Try.” Chris brushed her mouth with his own. “Lie down and I’ll sing to you.”

When she settled her head on his leg, he turned the TV down and stroked her hair. He began to sing by humming. He had a gravelly, rough bass that was nowhere close to a good singing voice, but she loved listening to it.

“Itsy Bitsy Spider . . .”

She smiled, closing her eyes. Though she wasn’t sure it was going to work, between the slow, rhythmic caress of his large hand and the murmur of his lullaby, she did drop off for awhile. When she became aware again, the room was semidark. It was twilight outside, and since the lights in Geoff’s room and the hallway were off, she knew she and Chris were alone. His hand rested on her hip. When she shifted, showing she was awake, he gripped her thigh, squeezed and picked up the remote. He turned off the TV, the oven hood light in the kitchen providing the only illumination.

“When did he leave?” she asked thickly.

“About fifteen minutes ago. Said it’d probably be eleven or so before he was home.”

“Okay.”

Chris was always quiet, but there was a particular immobility to him now that seemed to discourage questions or suggestions. In her logy, just-waking state, the weight of what was about to happen wrapped them in sexual tension. Arousal spread through her belly like a slow, rich syrup, ready to flow in any direction he desired.

“Come here.” He slid her into his lap, cradling her as he rose. He kissed her forehead and she wound her arms around him, sighing in contentment.

He took her to his bedroom. He threaded them through the doorway, turning so her feet didn’t hit the frame, and put her down, holding her around the waist. His hands found her face, tracing her cheeks, her lips, in the darkness. “You steady on your feet?”

She nodded against his touch. “All right,” he said. “Stay right here.”

He moved away from her to his dresser. A match struck and he touched it to several candles. They hadn’t been there earlier and she wondered if Geoff had put them there for him before he left, so Chris hadn’t had to disturb her slumber. It was the type of thing she’d expect them to do.

“It’s like you read each other’s minds, anticipate what you each want before it happens.”

“Sometimes the one thing you have in common makes the rest work out.” Blowing out the match, he faced her, resting his hips against the dresser. “Will you take off your shirt and bra for me, Sam?”

Removing the T-shirt, she set it aside and unhooked the bra, letting it slide down her arms. She was restless and still at once, restless with desire and yet still, waiting for him.

Her gaze coursed around the room. He collected things from and about the work he loved. Bird nests, rocks. Secondhand books on plants and landscaping were organized in wooden crates he’d stacked up as his bookcases. Her attention lifted to the ceiling. The candlelight flickered over what he had hanging there, creating interesting shadows. He liked to work twigs into shapes, using long, resilient grasses to hold them that way. As a result, he had the wooden outline of birds and butterflies hanging from the ceiling, or pegged flat against it.

Chris didn’t like to be hemmed in, even by the four walls of his bedroom.
“Whichever one of us becomes the billionaire tycoon,”
Geoff had once said,
“will make sure the mansion has at least one room with a glass ceiling. That will be Chris’s bedroom.”
Before Chris started hanging his twig sculptures—or maybe
he did it as a result—she and Geoff had painted his ceiling like a sky divided between night and day. Clouds, blue sky and the sun on the one half hosted seagulls, Canadian geese and cardinals flitting against the azure. The other half was a night sky full of stars and a crescent moon, the silhouette of an owl and a cadre of bats passing through and behind wispy, transparent gray clouds.

Where Geoff had the biggest bedroom, Chris had the one with the most windows, though right now the blinds were closed. He usually left them open, even at bedtime, because his windows faced the backyard. She knew he’d closed them to help her feel more comfortable. Or asked Geoff to do it, again so Chris wouldn’t have to disturb her sleep.

It was like earlier today, when they’d called off the wrestling because she was in the middle of it. For all that they could be too protective at times, there were moments she understood what a miracle it was to have another person give such priority to her well-being. And she’d been given two people like that.

Chris was looking at her, and his expression made it hard to breathe. Such a look from Geoff made her want to kneel at his feet. Chris’s expression held her still. It did amazing things to a woman, having a man look at her like she was a dessert. The kind to be savored in the ways that made the most of all its creator had intended it to be.

“Now take off the rest.”

She removed jeans, socks and underwear, putting them all aside. His gaze followed the lengths of her thighs, grazed over her abdomen, her sex, dropped to her feet, then he worked his way back up again. “Chris.”

His eyes lifted to hers. “What do you want, Sam?”

“You. Closer. Closer than breathing.”

His lips curved and he moved toward her, stopping with a stride between them. Dropping to one knee, he closed his hands over her thighs, thumbs sliding along them until they touched the point of her sex, spreading the labia so air touched her intimately.

“I want you to put your hands behind your back. Link your fingers, hold them there.”

She obeyed. His grip shifted to her waist then slid up her arms. “You tremble when I tell you to do that. Why?”

“It . . . excites me, when you or Geoff tell me to do something. I can’t explain why . . . I mean, if you told me to wash the dishes just because you didn’t want to do it, it wouldn’t be the same.” She managed a tight smile when his eyes twinkled in response to that. “But . . . if you told me to bring you a glass of water, not because you weren’t willing to do it yourself, but because you wanted me to know you were going into . . . this mode, it would get my attention.”

“Yeah. I’ve noticed that. Geoff said he threatened to use a belt on you.”

“Yes.” What if Chris didn’t approve of that? What if . . .

“And you liked that idea.”

“Yes. But I . . .”

“You don’t need to explain that to me, Sam.” His touch returned to her upper thighs, thumbs parting her sex once more. When he pressed a simple, moist kiss on her clit, her fingers tightened into a knot where they rested on the rise of her
buttocks. A needy sound broke from her lips when he touched her with the tip of his tongue, traced a circle. Sitting back on his heels, he studied her.

“Your nipples are tight little points.” His fingers slid into her folds, found her wetness and spread that lubrication before he put his fingertips inside her. “Talk to me, Sam. I want to hear that breathy sound in your voice as I get you wetter.”

She swallowed. “How did you notice . . . how I am?”

“Little things at first. Like when we were watching that
NCIS
episode where Tony tells the doctor he was dating to get behind him before they confront the drug dealer. When she asked why, and he said ‘Because I tell you to,’ in this really non-Tony-like commanding way, you froze up like a mouse in front of a cat.” He smiled against her thigh, kissing her there. “Or when Gibbs told Abby that if he ever smacked her, it wouldn’t be upside the head.”

“I feel transparent.” The joke fell flat, because she couldn’t tell anything from his tone. Did he think that was an okay thing about her? Had he been aroused by her response? Or did he have no reaction to it at all except puzzled curiosity?

“If you know what to look for, yeah. It’s there. But transparent like a creek, sparkling and showing all sorts of interesting possibilities. Most people never see anything more than the water, even though it’s clear. They don’t look deeper than the current, the ripples it causes on the surface. Do you notice something different about my room? Other than the candles?”

She’d thought Geoff was the sadist, but Chris was making her play twenty questions while he had his fingers inside her, his lips playing along her thighs and mons. He teased the sensitive gate of her pussy, making her move against him as much as her standing position allowed.

Her gaze skated back over the ceiling, seeking a new item hanging there. Nothing struck her as different, so she lowered her attention to the items he kept on his desk and dresser. She was pretty sure he wasn’t talking about the paperwork he had scattered there or the book on organic pest control. When she’d first come into his room, the first thing she’d noticed was his mattress on the floor was made up neatly with the army blanket and couple of pillows he used. Since she’d assumed that was their ultimate destination, that explained why she’d overlooked the hammock, and how he’d adjusted it.