Naughty Wishes Part II (18 page)

A surreptitious glance told her Chris was still erect under his flannel shorts, but it was clear he had no plans to address that right now. Closing his eyes, he tapped out Itsy Bitsy Spider on her hand, making her smile. He wanted her to go
to sleep, but he was holding on to her. They both were. Geoff lay against her back, his arm around her, his lips pressed to her neck.

She’d let that be enough for now. Her eyes slowly closed, her body melting into the heat of Geoff’s, and she let herself drift.

It was close to dawn when she surfaced again. She had a sense that it was best to pretend to still be asleep, so she opened her eyes to mere slits. She was still securely in Geoff’s arms, but Chris was sitting up. She watched his hand slide from her hand to her wrist and elbow, then hesitate on her upper arm, where Geoff’s hand was curved over her biceps. Geoff’s breath was even, suggesting he was asleep, but she wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t, because there was a slight tension to his body.

She felt Chris slide his hand from her to Geoff’s hand and linger. He kept it resting there as he put his head on the covers between her chin and breasts, his breath light upon them. Geoff’s hand moved, just slightly. Though she wouldn’t risk turning her head to look, she thought maybe he’d adjusted enough to rest his thumb on Chris’s hand, a light clasp that wouldn’t spook him but established connection.

What would it take to break the barriers down between them? She reluctantly understood this was one role she would have to play only on the sidelines, but if it went in the direction she hoped, being a spectator wouldn’t be a bad deal.

Still, scorching male-male fantasies aside, there were deeper considerations. The way Chris’s cheek rested on the covers under her chin, like a mute supplication regarding questions he didn’t yet know how to answer, a conflict he wasn’t sure how to resolve, was too much for her to ignore. She knew what it was to be
worried that her wants and needs wouldn’t mesh with theirs, and that she might ruin everything. She was still wrestling with those things, but she was in a better place now than she had been, because she knew they loved her and she loved them. Anything else would be icing on the cake.

She also understood Chris had to go through his own process. Still, she’d do everything she could to help. Shifting her hand to his head, she stroked, slow, easy. Nurturing, with hope and love in every movement. As he let out a slow, deep breath, she pressed a kiss to his head, smiling a little as she inhaled the scent of earth and sunshine.

“It will be all right,” she whispered. “No matter what. Sleep, baby. Just sleep.”

He fell asleep that way, sitting up but leaning against the bed. When Geoff’s hand moved to cover hers, both of them stroking Chris’s head, she pressed her hips back into the cradle of his, an unspoken thanks and connection. Putting his lips against her temple, he breathed warm heat over her.

Whatever was coming, they would figure it out. They had to.

Look for
Naughty Wishes Part III: Mind
, available from InterMix March 2016 and keep reading for a special preview.

Chris fished through the box of resin figurines and pulled out a squirrel sitting on gray haunches and holding a nut. No bigger than his thumbnail, the creature had a steel pin in the base, which he pushed into the earth next to a fairy. Her pale skin and slim face reminded him of Sam. The fairy’s slim legs dangled over the edge of the bowl-sized pool he’d created. Her dress looked like it was made out of petunia petals and her long straight hair was in a high ponytail, the way Sam wore it when she went to yoga.

Okay, he had enough pieces in place to test the stability of the channel he’d created. The water was supposed to meander from the fountain at the top of the berm down through the fairy world, and then funnel into an irrigation system for the vegetable garden. “This is either going to be great or set off a mudslide,” he muttered. Hearing a
clack-clack
sound from Ron, watching him from the aviary, he shot the bird a warning look. “No laughing,” he told him.

He started up the hose, then opened the valve. Sitting back on his haunches, he watched the rock fountain fill with water. As it spilled over the spout, it chuckled its way into the gully he’d created, becoming a sparkling creek. A couple of turns and it emptied into the small pool, where the fairy and her squirrel waited. The water made it up to her feet as he’d intended, so she could enjoy a dip of her toes.

He’d covered the liner of the pool with flat stone and outlined the interior of the rim with a variety of multicolored polished round stones that matched the style of the fountain. The water made them shiny, bringing out the array of colors. Before it could get higher than that, the water filtered into an exit pipe that emptied into another channel, which zigzagged down the remainder of the berm. He watched it find its way around several rock structures and a garden of small
concrete mushrooms. A stone turtle with a fairy perched on his back watched the water go by. Just below them were three frog houses with a few pansies planted around them, which served as both shade cover and “trees” for the tiny fae figures and the frogs that would come check out the lodgings.

Rising, he moved over to the garden, nodding in satisfaction as he saw the drip hoses begin to water the soil around the growing vegetables. It all seemed to be working. He’d add some phlox and other ground covers to fill in the dirt areas. He came back to the berm, dropping back to his heels to adjust one of the frog houses.

“She’ll love it.”

He’d heard the screen door clap against the frame, had known Geoff was making his way toward him. The cast of his shadow said he was standing behind Chris, a little to the left. There was less than a foot between them. Chris didn’t have to turn to verify it. Since Sam had left for her bank conference in Asheville yesterday, Chris had been like a GPS on Geoff’s location.

“Here. Do you think she’d like this?” A paper bag rattled and then Geoff dropped to a knee next to him. He’d gone by the Fairy Cottage, which specialized in fairy gardens. Chris tended to hit less pricey places, but he and Sam liked wandering through that one, her to chatter ideas at Chris, him to watch her enjoy the miniatures and sharing garden ideas.

Geoff was careful with his money, but he seemed to know the right moments to spend more. He’d bought a pair of cats, just little bits of clay that had been hand-pressed by someone’s fingers, toothpicks used to mark eyes and mouth. An artist knew how to do a lot with a little. They were the size of postage stamps, one curled
up in a ball sleeping, the other curled up but head lifted.

“I thought these might work on that piece of tree limb you turned into a stump.” Geoff pointed to it. Chris had three fairies dancing in a circle around it. “Cats being like cats are, I thought it would look like they were saying,
Yeah, big deal, fairies dancing around us. We’re still taking our nap
.” Geoff pulled out a seed packet. “They also sold me these. The lady said they’ll pop up into a good mix of wildflowers. Figured that might work as a border between this and the garden. But you’re the plant guy. Did I waste my seventy-five cents?”

“No. You want to put the cats in place?”

“Hell no. I’ll mess something up. Here.”

Chris opened his palm and Geoff transferred the cats to them, his fingers brushing Chris’s callused palm. Geoff’s gaze rested on his mouth before he rose. He was wearing his office clothes, slacks, tie and dress shirt, but he’d shed the coat. Chris had a sudden urge to tackle him, roll him in the leaves and get him dirty. Tear open his shirt and watch Geoff’s chest and arm muscles tighten as he tried to throw Chris off. Hand to hand, Geoff couldn’t overpower Chris, but Geoff was fast and smart. He wasn’t pinned too often.

Chris turned back toward the berm, tenting his fingers on the ground by his knees. He let the idea peter out in his mind. Geoff couldn’t afford to replace his clothes because Chris had a crazy adolescent impulse. “You remember that time in eighth grade when you were getting the best asshole award?” he asked instead.

“It was the highest grade average, but yes.”

Chris pursed his lips. “You said something to piss me off on the way to school
and I shoved you into the creek. You were wearing nice clothes, like you do all the time now.”

“Yeah. I remember.” Geoff’s shadow shifted behind him. Chris’s gaze stayed trained on the shape of it. Long, because it was late afternoon. “I remember you felt bad about it,” Geoff continued. “So you skipped class, jogged home and brought me new clothes. You got into trouble when you interrupted Mrs. Field’s class to bring them to me.”

“The next period was the awards ceremony.”

“I had to cinch up my belt like a hillbilly and the shoulders of the dress shirt were so wide, the cuffs flapped over my fingers. Hadn’t hit my growth spurt yet, and you were already built like a fucking tank. They took a picture of me with the Honor Society advisor, Mr. Williams. It’s in the yearbook.”

“Proof that you weren’t always on the cutting edge of fashion. You never did hit that growth spurt,” Chris added, lips curving despite his mercurial mood. “But sometimes I still get that urge to knock you into a creek.”

“Like now?”

Chris nodded. Things inside him stilled as Geoff moved forward and his knee pressed against Chris’s back, Geoff’s shin against his hip and the buttock resting on his heel. “You get this shirt dirty,” Geoff said quietly, “and I will kick your ass into next week, even if I have to use a two-by-four to do it.”

Then he was gone, striding back across the yard, leaving things vibrating around Chris. With deliberate care, he placed the two cats on the stump among the fairies. He pocketed the wildflower seeds, knowing it would be better to wait
another couple of weeks on those. Geoff was right, though. They’d make a good-looking border between the garden and the berm. Sam liked random groupings.

When she’d first told him she wanted to make a fairy garden, he’d told her it was a pain to mow around something like that, and the features tended to get disrupted by wind and rain. Mother Nature broke anything man-made into the shape She really wanted, but if a man knew how to work with Her, the results were worth it. Sam had known he wasn’t saying no. It was a
Let me think about how to do it
thing. Sam was good about giving him the space to work things like that out. Up until this thing with him, her and Geoff, that is.

Ironically, it was when he’d been working off his mad about coming home from Mississippi to find Geoff and Sam together that he’d finally figured out the best place for the fairy garden. He’d built the berm near the vegetable garden, where the privacy fence gave it shelter on two sides. In that position, he could easily rig something to put over it when the weather was dicey.

It was a good feeling, thinking how Sam would react to it when she came home. She’d likely go wild, buying little things like Geoff had brought and adding onto the berm with her own competent landscaping skills. Before long, they’d have a fairy enclave across the whole back fence. Talk about a mowing nightmare. She’d want to hang things on the fence, chimes and Green Man faces, things that celebrated the fairy world.

He smiled. He was pretty sure Sam had a drop of fae blood deep in her soul. She surely had the willowy look and fine features.

Chris straightened, cracking his back, and surveyed the yard with a critical eye. Over by the patio, the pond from which he’d obtained the berm soil was
complete, a fountain gurgling in the middle, a couple of white-petaled lilies floating around in it.

While he liked spending his time outdoors, he knew that wasn’t why he was lingering there now. She’d been gone less than twelve hours. He could sleep out here, in the tree house he’d built in the woods a few yards beyond the back fence. Yeah, right. He was being stupid.

He didn’t know what he was avoiding. Geoff was giving him space, wasn’t pushing at all. But that just made him feel twitchier, didn’t it, especially with Geoff right here, right now, just the two of them. Any other time, Geoff would be working until half past the ass crack of dawn, yet today he’d pulled in the driveway at half past five, better than a guy who punched a clock.

Sam’s trip wasn’t the first time one of them had to travel on business. Chris himself had just returned from doing some storm damage work down in the Gulf, and sometimes Geoff flew out at a moment’s notice for a case. Sam traveled the least of the three of them, but she had a couple of trips a year with girlfriends or banking powwows like this one. He and Geoff always felt out of sorts when she was gone, like a three-legged stool with one leg gone, but this time there was a different quality to it. An anticipatory tension, something waiting to be resolved.

Chris went to the pond and sat down in the Adirondack chair Sam liked to use for reading. He thought about her shapely ass pressed against the boards, her knees pulled up to her chest and scarlet-painted toes curved over the edge of the seat. One Halloween she’d had a pedicure with tiny bats painted on her big toes,
B
-
O
-
O
painted on the three others of each foot, the tiny pinkie toenail done in a touch of bright orange for contrast.

He thought about her body straining against his in her bed, in his bed. Her fingers had flexed in the grip of his, her lips parting and frantic eyes staring up at his face as he knelt by Geoff’s bed, his hand on her clit and Geoff’s cock thrusting into her from behind bringing her to a climax.

He thought of stroking her pussy, soft as a lamb’s ear. The thick base of Geoff’s dick sliding in and out along Chris’s fingers. He had deliberately not looked at Geoff when that happened, but he’d heard the breath clog in Geoff’s throat, seen his hand on Sam’s hip tighten further. Geoff had reacted to Chris’s touch. Knowing that, Chris had hardened more, though his dick had already been capable of jackhammering concrete.

Since the night they’d spent in Geoff’s room, they hadn’t gotten that close to a three-way in the bedroom again. Throughout the workweek, however, neither he nor Geoff had restrained themselves from touching
her
. Sam herself encouraged that.

Like when they were keeping Chris company in the kitchen on the night he was in charge of dinner. She’d slid into Geoff’s lap, talking and teasing them while her fingers curved over his nape, her body pressed against his, his arms loosely holding her. When Chris had come to give her a taste of the stroganoff, Geoff had dropped her backward in his arms, making her laugh as Chris tipped it into her mouth. Later, on the couch watching TV, she’d curled up next to Chris, pillowing her head on his thigh as she read. He’d laid his hand on her hip and thigh. And when it was time to go to bed, she’d come to bed with Chris. The next night, she’d gone with Geoff.

Since both men were keeping their bedroom doors open, listening to her soft gasps and breathy moans as Geoff brought her to climax on “Geoff’s night” had
forced Chris to put a choke hold on his own cock. He steadfastly refused to whack off while listening to that, for reasons he refused to discuss with himself.

However, the following night, when it was “his turn,” he’d taken her up against the wall with animal need. She’d clung to him, her crystal eyes full of desire, love and hope. As he pushed her over into orgasm with him, that last one had haunted him. Watching, waiting, hoping.

As he said, she usually provided him the space to work things out. While she was more impatient about this, he expected Geoff had exercised that Dom/sub thing he and Sam had going to compel her to give Chris even more room. So they hadn’t talked further about it, not yet, but it was clear enough to Chris she was letting them all get familiar with intimacy with her, and trying her best to wait and see what the two of them might do to take that intimacy even further. She’d kept things in the “public areas” of the house affectionate but not overtly sexual.

Until right before she left on her banking trip.