Naughty Wishes 4: Soul (11 page)

She crossed her arms. “I’m going out to the car in exactly ten minutes. Whoever is not with me will be left here. I’ll go to Bat Cave by myself and have a wonderful weekend wandering through all the antique shops and reading by the creek. I won’t miss either of you.”

“Liar,” Geoff said, coming back up the hall with his rolling tote. She suspected he’d had it ready all along, and had wanted to yank her chain by making her think he hadn’t yet started to pack. “But I need something clarified. Was that ten minutes from now, or ten minutes from when you get in the car?” He clucked as she shot him the bird. “That’s just rude. Do we have snacks?”

She rolled her eyes. “Jordan almonds for me, trail mix for you and Chris has two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. It’s only a ninety-minute drive and we’re getting dinner once we’re there. I doubt we’ll starve.”

Geoff’s brow creased. “Crap. We’re missing something.”

“What?” Sam said impatiently. “It’s only an overnight. Whatever it is, we can live without it.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Geoff looked around the living room and glanced over his shoulder at the hallway, lips firming as he apparently tried to remember. “Oh, that was it.” He looked toward Chris. “Did you get the thing? The most important thing we have to do this weekend?”

“We don’t have to
do
anything,” Sam snapped. “That’s the point. You said relaxation—”

“Shit, no.” Chris ignored her, shaking his head. “Don’t worry. I’ll get it. Grab my bag.” He turned away to go back down the hall while Sam seriously considered a scream of frustration. Instead, she yelped, because Chris pivoted abruptly, ducked down and tossed her over his shoulder, head down and legs kicking. “Okay, got it,” he said.

“You jerks,” she said, but she was laughing, and then shrieking as Geoff tickled her nose. She grabbed Chris’s belt as he carried her through the kitchen. Geoff followed him with bag and tote, grinning.

“Hey, wait a second,” he said. “We’re going to shock the neighbors.”

She was wearing a light skirt, and it was in peril of slipping down to her waist. When Chris obliged by coming to a halt, Geoff grabbed the hem, but instead of adjusting it for modesty, he pulled it down to her shoulder blades. Pushing her panties out of the way, he gave her ass a couple of healthy smacks, hard enough to have her writhing and things going a very different way in her mind. Only then did he pull the skirt back down over her thighs, tucking the fabric in between them and under Chris’s hand so she wouldn’t be exposed. He’d left the panties where they were, though, so she’d have to adjust them in the car over her stinging buttocks.

“Meanie,” she said, and he bent, kissing her snarling mouth.

“Don’t you forget it,” he said, a glint in the hazel eyes.

Despite her bitching, she was so pleased about having the two men to herself for a weekend that, once on the road, she didn’t mind the traffic. They were out of Charlotte before the worst of it hit, regardless, so they didn’t get delayed by many snarls. Plus there were plenty of distractions in the car to keep her mind off traffic headaches.

Like Chris sliding up behind her seat to trail his knuckles down her upper arm, bared by her knit tank top, and Geoff laying his hand on her thigh with casual possessiveness as they talked. It made her think about what might happen when they had the cottage to themselves with its six-person hot tub. They’d planned on doing dinner and dancing tonight. Logically she knew they could have stayed home if all they wanted to do was stay in the cottage, but it didn’t make the idea any less tempting. She was in the company of two men she loved and wanted so much her mind and heart were overflowing, her body vibrating with the need to be as close to them as possible.

They reached the house in just over an hour and a half, as planned. The little cabin was perched over a creek, right off the meandering two-lane highway through Bat Cave. Once they put their suitcases in the bedrooms, Sam wandered into the kitchen, toward the sliding doors that led to the deck. “I think we should do takeout instead,” she said, dipping her head meaningfully toward the covered hot tub visible through the glass.

“Nope,” Geoff said mercilessly, drawing her away from the view. “You said you wanted to go out for dinner and dancing.”

When she parted her lips on a protest, he gave her a look, part humor, but part Dom, too, reminding her who was boss. For certain things. She subsided with a mischievous smile that had his eyes doing that sexy gleam again, even as he pointed a stern finger at her. “Anticipation is everything,” he reminded her.

“Think of all the people on the
Titanic
who didn’t eat dessert that last night,” she retorted.

“If the defense can give me a compelling argument,” he intoned, “proving that flood or earthquake is going to cause a catastrophe commensurate with the
Titanic
’s in the next few hours, then we’ll stay here and copulate until our private parts go numb. Otherwise, I expect you changed into your dancing shoes and your ass back in the car in fifteen minutes.”

Chris came to the door of one of the bedrooms, clean shirt in hand. “He’ll be a judge one day, Sam, just watch. But I’m with you. You know I don’t like crowds. If I’m being given a vote about whether we stay or go—”

“You’re not,” Geoff said. “You spend your days surrounded by a million bugs, an army of earthworms under your feet, and talking to more birds and squirrels than a Disney princess. Compared to that, a couple hundred people in a dance club is an intimate family gathering.” He gave Chris an appraising look. “And you can stand there all shirtless and sexy as long as you want . . . I’m not changing my mind. Neither is Sam. Are you, Sam?”

“Huh? What? Well, he does look pretty drool-worthy.”

Chris grinned and Geoff rolled his eyes. “Go get dressed, woman.”

She made a face at him, then retreated with a shriek as he picked up a kitchen towel and snapped it at her, expertly enough that the tip stung her thigh. Chris winked at her as she went past him toward the master bedroom. She paused long enough to trail a hand over his chest and curve it over his biceps, but then she had to double-time it, because Geoff went after her with the towel again. Chris intercepted him and she left them wrestling in the hallway while she escaped to the safety of her room, laughing at Chris’s affronted comment.

“I know you didn’t call me a princess . . .”

Truth, she did like dancing. What was interesting was how she and Chris were deferring to Geoff on the pacing for this.

On most things it had always been Chris who taught them the right speed to experience things. Like taking time out to enjoy a sunny day, knowing the best balance between play and work. Geoff’s grasp of how best to savor the new intimacy between the three of them made sense, though. While it seemed to serve his own personal desires as a Master, the anticipation made things edgier. It pushed her past thinking, analyzing and inhibition into pure response mode, yearning to satisfy whatever he wanted and needed. Which took them both where they wanted to go.

She wondered what the anticipation did for Chris. Since his desires seemed to straddle both top and bottom, it would likely work for him as well.

She passed her hand over the thin blue quilt on the king-sized bed. On their past trip, Chris and Geoff had shared the room with two double beds, giving her this one with the king-sized bed, since Merry and her husband had taken the rental office apartment next door. This time she was pretty sure the bedroom with the two double beds where Chris had changed his shirt would be only a place to leave clothes and toiletries. They’d all three share this bed tonight.

She opened her suitcase. Where they were going for dinner was a pretty casual place, but dance clubs always gave a girl the excuse to razzle-dazzle it up a bit. She donned a snug purple-and-gray-striped miniskirt and a sleeveless top. The shirt was partially transparent, a sheer panel in a matching shade of purple revealing her shoulders, the tops of her breasts and her entire back, while a satin liner in silky gray covered her breasts to midriff. Geoff had given her a pair of silver earrings shaped like wings on her last birthday, and Chris had provided a matching necklace. The pendant was a silver dove with wings spread and head dipped in graceful profile. The length of the chain positioned the bird against the shadow of her cleavage. Slipping on a pair of gray wedge heels gave her a couple of inches of height. She brushed out her hair and touched up her makeup, and was ready to go within Geoff’s proscribed fifteen minutes.

When she returned to the living room, her companions were ready, of course. All men had to do was change into a clean shirt, brush their hair, touch up with a razor, and they achieved the same thing that took a woman twice the time. She didn’t object to the results, though. Geoff had changed to a dark blue button-down loose over stressed jeans, and Chris was wearing one of his obscure rock band T-shirts over black jeans. Handsome and rough at once was a good look for her men. “I have the best-looking dates tonight,” she said, taking their hands and squeezing them. “And it thrills me to be able to say
dates
and mean it,” she added.

Geoff gave her a thorough assessment, making her turn in a full circle before reclaiming her hand. “If I weren’t sure you’d learned your lesson the other night,” he said, “I’d say you were trying to make us stay here.”

A genuine smile on Geoff Tywin’s face could arrest the healthiest woman’s heart. She further mortified herself by blushing, but seeing the same appreciation on Chris’s face only deepened it. He slid a finger over the sheer panel, down to the silver dove pendant. Playing with it meant he also gave the valley between her breasts an intimate caress. “Glad you’re wearing it,” he said.

Geoff tugged her closer and touched his lips to hers. She closed her eyes as Chris stroked her side, her hip. Geoff lifted his head. “Glad you’re ours,” he said softly.

She curved her arms around them as much as she could reach, and they enveloped her between their two bodies. This was so much more right than how she’d felt earlier in the week, when she hadn’t realized it was fear of losing them that was keeping her from slowing down, savoring. She took a nice, deep inhale of them both and tilted her head back.

“If they play the
Macarena
, you guys have to do it with me,” she declared.

“Hey, I know the steps to that one.” Chris brightened.

“Sad,” Geoff said. “Your lack of coolness is just sad.”

“You just wish you looked as good doing it as I do,” Chris said, beginning to swivel his hips through the initial steps, bouncing on his size-thirteen shoes. Laughing, Sam started to backpedal toward the door.

“I’m hungry,” she said. “Food, then dancing.”

“Pushy, pushy, pushy.” Geoff grabbed the keys from her. “I’ll drive.”

“The Lord is our shepherd; we shall not want . . .” she started, while Chris obligingly crossed himself.

“Get in the car, both of you. Smartasses.”

***

For dinner she had a berry salad with pistachios and walnuts. Chris had a slab of steak and mountain of fried potatoes, ignoring the usual admonitions from Geoff about cholesterol and Sam about the benefits of veganism. She narrowed her eyes at Geoff as he seasoned his grilled chicken and asked him sweetly if he wanted any chicken with his salt.

“I’ll outlive both of you,” she said, shaking her head as they were both polishing their plates.

“Gender-wise, you’re already likely to do that,” Chris pointed out. “Women drive men into early graves. Everyone knows that.”

She tumbled several raspberries onto his plate and won a mildly horrified look. “You’ve contaminated my cow.”

“Oh, the growth hormones and antibiotics already did that.”

“Not. You like this restaurant because all the meat is supposedly organic and humanely raised.”

“That, and because of the desserts,” she said as her vegan cupcake arrived. The frosting was sheer heaven.

“Dairy-free baked goods.” Chris shuddered.

“It’s not bad. Especially if you combine it with the right flavor.” Geoff took a sip of the after-dinner coffee the waitress brought him, then touched the cupcake top to collect frosting on one finger. “Don’t eat this,” he told Sam before she could protest, and dabbed it on her top lip.

Leaning in, he kissed her, licking the frosting off with the tip of his tongue. Sam closed her eyes as he lingered to suck on her bottom lip, just to be equitable. When he finally sat back, she had parted, moist lips and elevated breathing. “I’d try it, Chris. It’s better than you’d expect.”

Chris obligingly collected some frosting on his own finger, only he picked up her hand off the table edge, put the creamy spread on her wrist and brought that to his mouth. He sucked her flesh a little harder, nipping her. Beneath the table, her toes curled.

Geoff had moved his leg so it was pressed against hers. Slipping her foot out of her wedge, she played with his ankle beneath the cuff of his jeans. His look increased the heat in the pit of her stomach, especially with Chris holding on to her hand and wrist, his mouth still on her.

“If we had a pint of that frosting,” Geoff murmured, “we could cover her nipples and pussy and suck all of it off, making her sticky and sweet at once.”

Chris’s eyes kindled like firelit molasses as Geoff spoke, and Sam’s hand trembled in the grip of his. “Add that to our next grocery list,” Geoff told her. “Whole Foods has vegan frosting, right?”

“Yes,” she managed. Chris released her as the waitress returned, though he’d adjusted his feet below the table so they were sandwiching one of hers. Geoff took the check. When Sam started to draw her hand away from Chris’s to reach for her card, since they usually did a three-way split of checks for more expensive meals, Geoff shook his head and Chris recaptured her hand.

“Not this time, Sam. Chris and I are covering this weekend. You’re not just our roommate anymore.”

“But that doesn’t mean I want you two paying for everything.”

“We know that.” He touched her arm in brief reproof as Chris tightened his fingers on hers. “We’ll go back to our usual bill divisions on Monday. But this weekend you’re our date, and we’re treating you that way. All right?” Catching her chin in his thumb and forefinger before she could argue, he met her gaze. “That was a rhetorical question, by the way.”