by Rachel Clark
“Is everything okay?” Bryce asks as he hurries back into the room.
“Of course it’s okay, but I swear you two are going to put me in an early grave.”
“Huh?” Bryce asks, looking to me for an explanation.
“He says we overthink things.”
“Ah, this coming from the man who leaps and then looks down.”
I can’t help but laugh at the affronted look on Grant’s face. It’s true that the brothers are as different as night and day, but it also seems to work for them. Bryce tempers Grant’s impetuous behavior, and Grant gives Bryce the push in the right direction when he needs it. Between the two of them, they’ve built a rather comfortable life.
“Why aren’t you two married already?” I ask impulsively.
“To each other?” Grant asks with a laugh.
“You know what I mean. Why don’t you have wives yet?”
“Because we—” This time Bryce cuffs the back of Grant’s head to shut him up.
“I believe you wanted to see a flogger,” he says, very obviously dragging the discussion back onto topic.
“Um…sure,” I say, not really understanding why they wouldn’t answer the question, but not willing to make them uncomfortable by asking it again.
Bryce holds up something that looks kind of like the old-fashioned wooden handle off a skipping rope, but instead of rope it has lots of soft-looking strips of leather dangling from the end. “We have a member at the club who enjoys making his own furniture…and, well, other stuff. He made this one for me as a welcome home gift several months back.”
He hands it to me, and I’m immediately struck by the exquisite detail. The man who made this is truly an artist. The leather strips are very soft, the handle beautifully crafted and polished to perfection.
“This was a ‘welcome home’ gift?” I ask as I filter the long, thin strips of leather through my fingers.
“Well,” Bryce says with a soft, embarrassed-sounding laugh, “I suspect it was more of a ‘welcome back to the lifestyle’ gift. I think Doug knew that I was rethinking the plans I had for my future. Sneaky bastard just had to remind me of who I really am.”
“And who are you really?”
I probably shouldn’t have asked. It was one of those impulsive questions that often lead to embarrassment. Judging by Bryce’s uncomfortable silence, I really shouldn’t have asked.
“I’m sor—” I try to say, but Grant places a hand over my mouth and stops the apology.
“It’s a good question, little one,” Grant says. “Perhaps you should let the man answer it.”
Bryce gives his brother a glare but it seems like he sort of needs to answer my question. Considering how serious the conversation has suddenly become, I’m no longer so sure I want to know the answer.
“After we spoke that day at the hospital when I went to see Casey”—translation: after I unfairly accused him of beating and raping brainwashed women—“I decided to rethink what I wanted out of life. Grant and I…” Bryce hesitated, looking at his brother as if asking for permission to say whatever he wanted to say. Grant nodded slightly but smiled as well. “Grant and I have always planned to find a submissive between us. Someone we would willingly share, a woman who would follow our directions in the bedroom, but be independent enough to want to make decisions for herself as well. A woman we could love and protect, provide for and have babies with.”
I want to ask a million questions, but Grant is running his fingers over my lips in a not-so-subtle suggestion that I stay quiet.
Bryce looks a little bit embarrassed and laughs self-consciously.
“Anyway, I took the job in Hong Kong for the chance to step back from everything and try and think.”
“Did it help?” I ask, feeling so terribly guilty for having been the catalyst for his life-defining decisions. I’m not arrogant enough to assume that it was only my words that had him reassessing his life, but I’m certain I was a big, painful part of the process.
“It helped,” Bryce said, reaching out to touch my face softly. “It showed me that I am who I am, and that what I wanted is still what I need.”
“So you’re a Dom through and through?” I ask with a sinking heart. I know that my attraction to both of these men is wrong—I can’t give them what they need—but I can’t help wishing that things were different.
Bryce gives me a sad smile. “Yes, baby, I am.”
“But you haven’t been to the club the whole time I’ve been here.” Neither had Grant if I remember correctly. They’ve both either been at work or been here home with me.
“That’s because the woman we want to share isn’t there.”
“Oh,” I say quietly. I’ve been so caught up in the dramas of my own life, I have never even considered that they might have a life outside of what we share. Grant stays quiet, caressing his fingers over my chin and throat as I try to understand what Bryce means.
“Karly,” Bryce says, taking my hand into his own, “we don’t want to rush you. Hell, we probably wouldn’t have brought it up this early, but with Casey and Chris planning their collaring ceremony so quickly, it’s probably a good idea to talk it through.”
“Talk it through,” I repeat like a parrot. I’m still trying to wade through the myriad of conflicting emotions and thoughts screeching through my head. I think a part of me realizes what they are trying to say, but most of me is hoping I’ve misunderstood.
Obviously, this is my friends trying to explain very politely that I need to find my own place. I’ve already acknowledged that I’m curtailing their natural behavior just by being here. I close my eyes as I realize how much I’ve taken for granted. Holy hell, I am one selfish bitch. These men have spent the past twelve months being my friends, my protectors, and my companions. And how do I repay them? By being frightened of the lifestyle they need to live.
I understand that now—sort of. I can see in my sister’s behavior how much she needs what the BDSM lifestyle can give her. Even after stepping away from the life he’d once lived, Bryce knows it’s what he needs to be happy.
Yet he and Grant are stuck babysitting a woman who should be healed enough to stand on her own now. How in hell will they find a woman willing to join them in such an unusual relationship with me here getting in the way?
“Karly—” Bryce starts to say, but I cut him off.
“I’m sorry,” I say, trying to get the words out before it truly hits me. I know what I’m about to lose, but it was never mine to keep anyway. “I’ll start looking for my own place this week. I assume Casey will move in with Chris after the collaring ceremony. I’ll try to be out of your hair by then.”
I feel Grant tense up, his fingers stopping their gentle caress over my skin. It’s only then that I remember that I’m actually sitting in his lap. Fuck.
“Is that what you want? A place of your own?” Bryce asks.
He and Grant both seem upset and I’m not certain why.
“I…um…isn’t that what you want?” My gaze bounces between both of them. I’m not sure where I lost the thread of this conversation. “That way you can find the woman you love and bring her here without me getting in the way,” I say, trying to sound happy for them.
Bryce looks really upset, so I’m a bit surprised when he sits on the sofa next to his brother and pulls me into his embrace. I go willingly, wanting to hold on to these two amazing men for just a little bit longer.
“Karly, there’s no other woman,” Grant says, his hand caressing down my spine as Bryce holds me just a little bit tighter. “There’s only you.”
“Me?” I ask in confusion. “Isn’t that the problem?”
Grant laughs. “Oh, yes, you are definitely a problem¸ little one. But you’re a problem we were hoping to keep.”
“You want to keep me?” I ask as tears well in my eyes. “As in keep me keep me?”
“As in love you, marry you, and start a family with you, yes.”
“But…” Holy shit, I want to say ye
s. I want to keep these men for my own. I truly want to be what they want me to be, but I can’t. I really can’t. I start crying before I can even get the words out.
“It’s okay, Karly,” Bryce says. I can’t see him, but I get the impression that he’s glaring at his brother. “It’s too soon. We shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“But I can’t be her. I can’t be the woman you want.”
I feel Bryce relax beneath me and can’t for the life of me explain it. Why would he find my admission good news? Doesn’t he want me? I’m so confused I don’t know whether to laugh at my own idiotic thoughts or cry from the emotional rollercoaster ride.
“Karly, did you ever wonder why you married a man as controlling as John McCoy?”
I flinch at my ex-husband’s name. I’ve tried very hard just to erase the four years I spent with him from my memory. I really don’t want to talk about him at all.
“No,” I say a little shakily. If there is one thing I know about Grant Anderson it’s that he never wastes words.
“We think maybe you were attracted to him because he was a confident, successful, dominant personality. You wanted to be loved and protected and cared for by him and in return you were willing to do the same for him.”
Grant was right. That was what I’d wanted when I’d married John. At the time I’d truly believed that we could make it work if we just tried hard enough. Apparently, I’d been the only one trying.
“Your husband abused the power you gave him. We wouldn’t.”
Both men let that tidbit of information sink in as they caress me gently.
Despite the deep fear running through me, I really want to try this. I already love these men for their caring and protective ways. How could I not want to at least try to be the woman they wanted?
“But what if I let you down?” I ask worriedly.
“Karly,” Bryce says, running his fingers through my hair over and over, “it doesn’t work that way. Not for us. We don’t punish our submissives. At least, not in the way you’re thinking.”
Grant is still caressing my spine. “It’ll take time to find what works for all of us in the bedroom, but you can’t deny that we already work well together outside of it.”
That’s true. As housemates and friends go, I feel more at home here with these men than I ever have anywhere else in my life.
Nervously, I nod my head. “I want to try to be the woman you need me to be.”
“Baby,” Bryce says as he lifts my chin so that I’m looking into his eyes, “you already are.”
* * * *
Strangely, despite how much Grant wanted Karly to be his and Bryce’s wife, sudden anxiety rolled through him. What if they’d read her wrong? What if she wasn’t the woman they thought they saw? What if they were projecting their own desires onto a woman they both loved?
What if she freaked out and they lost her simply because they couldn’t control their kinky needs in the bedroom?
What if—
The smack on the back of his head startled him.
“Now who’s overthinking things?” Bryce asked with more humor in his voice than Grant had heard in almost a year. “We just need to keep talking to each other.” He handed Karly over, lifting her as if she weighed nothing and then placed her on Grant’s lap. “Karly, do you know what a safe word is?”
Chapter Eleven
I nod. I know what a safe word is. I also know, thanks to my sister’s experience, that it doesn’t have any magical power to it either. It’s like a traffic light. People know they shouldn’t go through red lights, but despite the deadly danger, drivers do it all the time on the roads. There’s no magic that actually stops the car automatically.
“Grant and I will never, ever ignore your safe word. The moment it comes from your mouth, we will stop—no problems, no ramifications, no punishments. If you use your safe word, everything stops.”
“But when you use your safe word,” Grant added, “we’ll talk through the problem, figure out what went wrong, and then as a trio decide where to go from there.”
“We only ask one thing,” Bryce said, reaching over to caress my lips with the pads of his fingers. “Be honest in your responses. Don’t endure something that frightens you. Don’t withdraw from us. Keep talking. Keep asking questions. Give us the chance to work through any issues rather than trying to hide them.”
“Can you do that, little one?” Grant asks as he cuddles me closer.
“I’ll try,” I say as a strange warmth flows through me. I’ve never enjoyed sex, so I’m not really certain that I can give them what they want, but I don’t want to walk away until I’m absolutely sure.
“Good girl,” Bryce says as he leans over and kisses me softly.
“Can we make love to you now, little one?” Grant asks with a soft smile on his face.
“N–Now?” I ask nervously. The weirdest part is that the nerves are from imagining the pleasure they might give me, not from fear.
“We can wait,” Bryce assures me. “As long as you need, baby. We weren’t planning to say anything for at least a few more months.”
“No,” I say a little more urgently than I’d intended. “No, I don’t want to wait.” They’re offering me a chance at a relationship I actually want. I’ve spent months dreaming that they were mine. Our friendship has suited me perfectly. If I can just learn to enjoy what they like in the bedroom we could have a great future together.
But can my friends become my lovers when I’m carrying so much emotional baggage?
* * * *
Bryce could feel his hands shaking. A year and a half ago, this woman stood in a hospital corridor and screamed her frustration at him. If he’d known then what he knew now he would never have let her stay with her violent, abusive husband. He still had odd moments during the day when he wondered if he’d missed some sign, if he’d maybe not seen something right in front of him, if he should have done more to help her through her raw emotions when her sister had been so ill.
But in the end it had all come back to one single truth.
Nobody had known.
Not even the sister who’d lived under the same roof for nearly five months. Karly had tried so desperately to make her marriage work that she’d stayed with a man who’d gone close to killing her.
“Promise me,” he said as he lifted her chin with his fingers. “Promise me that you will always stay true to yourself.”
“I don’t understand,” she said, glancing at Grant, perhaps hoping for a translation.
“I mean,” Bryce said as he helped her to stand up, “that you will do things because it’s what you want, not because you’re frightened of how we might react.”
“But, you want me to submit”—he didn’t miss the way she shuddered when she said that word—“in the bedroom. How can I stay true to myself when it’s what you want?”
Grant shook his head, his amusement quite annoying, his expression clearly calling Bryce an overthinker again.
“What my brother is trying to say is that we plan to teach you how to love and crave what we can give you. Soon, you’ll submit to us in the bedroom because it’s what you want as well.”
It was obvious that she didn’t quite believe him but Bryce had every intention of making good on that promise.
The happy future they all wanted depended on it.
Chapter Twelve
I’m so nervous I can barely breathe.
I’ve never actually been curious about sex until I learned the details of my sister’s lifestyle. To say I am unimpressed with my own experiences so far is a major understatement. But if getting a decent orgasm means submitting to horrifying pain with possibly deadly consequences, then seriously, life can count me out.
But I find myself intrigued by Bryce and Grant’s proposal. What would it be like to do more than lie there as I wait for my husband to finish? I know from television and books that many women enjoy sex. Just because my early experiences left me cold, it doesn’t mean it will always
be that way.
I glance at the two men leading me down the hallway and realize I actually want so much more from this experience than I understand.
Bryce stops at the doorway to his bedroom and turns to me, barring the way.
“We don’t have to do this now,” he says in a reassuring tone.
“I want to do this now,” I say in a soft, unsure-sounding voice even though I’d meant it to be more confident.
Grant presses up to my back, cocooning me in his embrace, as we both wait for Bryce to respond. But instead of a verbal answer, he steps closer, trapping me between their two large bodies, and presses a kiss to my lips that sets every one of my girlie parts tingling.
By the time he leans back to see my face I can feel his hard cock pressing against my stomach and Grant’s erection nestled against the crease of my ass. I’m actually panting hard, and this time it’s not from fear. Heavens, I’m already more turned on than I ever was with…
I shake my head, refusing to think his name. The angry, abusive, controlling man I was once married to has no place in this part of my life. Unfortunately, Bryce misinterprets my response.
“It’s okay, baby. We can wait.”
He’s withdrawing mentally and physically, and that scares me more than anything.
“No,” I blurt out, trying on some of the self-confidence I’ve spent the last ten months building back up. “I want to be here with you, both of you.” Worried that they’re not going to believe me, I quickly reach for the hem of my shirt—I don’t have time for buttons—and lift it over my head.
I’m a little bit embarrassed by the functional, full support bra. It’s not exactly designed for seduction, so I quickly undo it and drop it to the floor. I hear Grant’s soft laugh, but I’m certain this time that he’s amused by his brother’s reaction and not mine.
Bryce is staring at my breasts as if he’s never seen a pair before.
Finally, he reaches over and cups one with his warm hand, the callused pad of his thumb gliding back and forth over the nipple as it quickly pulls into a hard peak. I close my eyes, enjoying the sensation immensely. I’m almost shocked by the warm mouth that suctions over the other breast.
