Naughty Wishes Part IV

by Joey W. Hill

  But whereas Anthony was not her fault, Geoff accepted the blame for this moment. He'd been thinking of nothing but enjoying her, and had forgotten his first job was protecting her. Why wouldn't their behavior attract attention, desire, envy? Or encourage this kind of thinking.

  He didn't have to resort to violence, as tempting as it was to hammer the point into them using the nearest unyielding surface. However, it was his job to set them straight on what kind of woman she was.

  "No," he said tightly. "She's not a whore. She's a beautiful woman who likes to dance. And because we treat her with love and respect, she trusts us enough to express desire without worrying that we're going to interpret it as something it's not."

  The conversations near them died. Perhaps he'd raised his voice more than intended. A habit in court, where he'd enunciate his words more precisely if the point was more emphatic. The word whore did tend to carry.

  Predictably, his attitude and words had pushed the It's time to start a fight button in the testosterone arsenal of the drunk threesome. While admittedly Geoff felt more than ready, he knew that was the wrong play. He was a moron, but it was a late news flash as they rose out of the chairs.

  "I didn't call no one a whore. But she is fucking both of you, right?"

  "We're done here." Geoff shouldered past him with a sneer, only to be stopped by Kent, who was built beefy, just like Dave. Now he had one in front and one behind, one to the side. Walled in. He was usually smarter than this. Okay, Chris would probably say he wasn't, given they'd met when Geoff had been about to be pounded by a gang of kids for shooting off his mouth. What made him a good lawyer now had qualified him as a punching bag in middle school.

  Where was a club bouncer when you needed one?

  "Excuse me."

  The men stopped and turned, blinking. Sam stood outside the tense circle, Chris behind her. Geoff cursed at her tight, pale expression, because it told him they'd arrived in time to get the gist of the argument. Despite that, she looked calm, which was more than he could say for Chris. His friend had also heard the conversation, because he had the demeanor of a bull about to gore a sparkly matador with extreme prejudice. Geoff wondered how Sam had gotten in front of him. From how resolute she looked, she must have insisted bodily.

  "Yes, we share a bed. The three of us." She squared off with Dave. "I'm in love with both of them, and they're in love with me. It's taken us way too long to admit no one makes us as happy as one another. I'm not going to turn my back on that or break my heart in half by choosing just one, no matter what the world thinks of me for feeling that way."

  Her gaze met Geoff's, making it clear the message was more for him and Chris than their audience. Unexpectedly, it helped settle him. She was right. Who gave two shits what the world thought?

  "Atta girl." A group of girls sitting in a ring on the floor nearby raised their beer cups. The one who'd spoken had golden hair and lively blue eyes and wore a snug Appalachian State T-shirt. She wasn't quite as hammered as the three men, but her friends were riding enough of a beer buzz to cheer. While that was likely more of a response to the fantasy of a threesome than the strength of Sam's declaration, it still helped defuse the tension.

  "Kent, come sit over here with us," the blonde said. "Stop being dicks."

  Kent, obviously amenable to the call of a pretty face, turned his attention to the only thing that could replace a hormonal college male's desire to brawl. Unfortunately, Dave wasn't willing to let it go. He gestured with his beer, sloshing some over his hand. "What does that make you two guys? Some sword crossing happens, I'll bet." He looked at Chris belligerently, jerking his head toward Geoff. "Is this skinny prick your bitch, big guy?"

  Hearing Dave refer to Chris the way Geoff often did himself unleashed an unexpected spike of possessive temper. "No," Geoff said, stepping toe to toe with Dave and staring him down. "He's an unneutered Rottweiler who'll rip out your throat if he feels like you're pissing on his territory. And she's his territory. As well as mine. So back the fuck off and learn some manners."

  Chris had moved around Sam and was breathing down Dave's neck. He also shot Brad a warning look that had the slighter man looking far less certain about Dave's attitude.

  "Come on, Dave," Kent called over. "Don't be an ass. You're going to get us thrown out of here."

  "Whatever, man," Dave said, though his hackles were still obviously up. He sidled out from between Geoff and Chris and tossed them a glare. "Duck's a duck, no matter what you dress it up as and call it. We aren't the only ones who thought it, so no need to get pissy." He stomped over to the group, Brad trailing behind.

  Chris growled, but Geoff put a hand on his chest. "Leave it," he said quietly.

  Despite her excellent and emphatic delivery, Sam was looking a little too pensive for his taste now. Geoff closed his hand on hers, drawing her gaze.

  "Let's go hit the floor for a couple more numbers before we call it a night," he suggested.

  He wanted to call it a night right now. Sam could be a lot tougher than anyone expected, a bitch on wheels when needed. But there was a kindness to her that always seemed unprepared for someone to be mean to her. Like Anthony.

  She nodded, a docile acceptance, but not the kind he liked. Shifting his grip to the back of her neck, he pulled her to him with a decisive move that made her look up at him with startled eyes. Since Chris could pick up on her change of mood as fast as he could, Geoff screwed his hand in Chris's shirtfront to hold on to him. It wouldn't take much for their Rottweiler to bare fangs and charge the men who'd upset Sam.

  "They're drunk, young and stupid," Geoff repeated, low. He met Chris's fiery eyes. "Fighting with them is not the way, Chris. Making her feel better is what matters most, right? Plus, if you fight with them, I have to jump into the fray. If I get arrested, I could lose my license. We take care of each other. That's what we do. Right?"

  The rage vibrating from Chris didn't turn off, but he did push it back into his gut enough to nod. He put his hand on Geoff's forearm, clasping it. It told Geoff they'd reclaimed that accord they did so well, even in their most tense moments.

  "But no more dancing," Chris said. "Let's just get out of here. I don't care about making a point to a bunch of dumbass kids."

  A valid observation. When Sam agreed, Geoff tightened his fingers on her waist. "All right, then. Let's go."

  ***

  The car trip home was quiet. In darkness, their cottage was a small brown mushroom sitting on its pilings. The creek created whispers of sound, secret gurgles in the dark. Geoff saw Sam stop to inhale the forest scents as she stepped out of the car. But then she turned and moved through the gate to the front door without speaking.

  Chris's shoulders and expression were tense. As he followed her, Geoff brought up the rear, thoughtful. Since he had the key, he touched Chris's shoulder, a tacit direction to move back so he could get past him. He caressed the small of Sam's back, reaching past her to unlock the door.

  As he held it for her, he tilted his head at Chris, directing him to go in ahead of him. When Chris closed the distance between him and Sam again, Geoff noticed he touched her almost exactly where Geoff had, that universal protective reassurance, man to woman. Sam tilted her head, acknowledging it, but once inside, she left them, walking into the living room. It had deep brown paneling and eclectic hunting decorations mixed with needlepoint and lace curtains. Geoff wondered that Merry hadn't updated the place since she'd bought it as a rental investment, but he expected the decor was part of its quirky charm for renters who were looking less for typical amenities and more of an unscripted travel diary experience.

  Given their own uncharted course, it was a fitting setting for the three of them. Sam stood in front of the double windows, staring through the glass. Because of the solar lights that etched the back edge of the property on the other side of the creek, there was a reflection on the water that flickered over her face.

  Chris sat down on the arm of the couch, stretching out his legs and
crossing his arms, patiently waiting her out, though his expression was watchful. He was probably mulling over some of the same things Sam was. Was this a good idea, any of it? What would become of the three of them and their friendship if they kept going down this path?

  Geoff allowed them one additional minute of pregnant silence, then he tossed the keys on a side table, an abrupt metallic clank that had them both turning.

  "If this is just a fantasy we're indulging," he said, "dealing with that kind of shit should be a lot easier. We enjoy our threesome for a little while, try a lot of crazy different positions, have fun with it, let it run its course. Then, Sam, you decide which of us you want for the long haul. Maybe it will be neither of us. You'll move on, find another guy who you want to marry, set up house and have babies."

  Her spine snapped straight. "Is that what you think this is? Are you saying that's all you expect or want this to be?"

  He had Chris's full attention now, but Geoff didn't look toward him yet. It was all he could do to keep an impassive face before her pale expression, the pain in her voice. "I say what I mean, Sam," he said evenly. "You know that. Pay attention to what I'm saying. Think it through."

  "Don't patronize me," she snapped.

  "You think I'd ever do that?" He injected enough warning in his tone to startle her, to make Chris stiffen. Geoff took another step forward, holding her eyes in that lock. "I told you to think about what I just said. Exactly how I said it. You don't usually need me to repeat something, but I will, just this once. 'If this is just a fantasy we're indulging, dealing with that kind of shit should be a lot easier.'"

  She stared at him, but her face became less angry, more confused. Unfortunately, it made the hurt show more, so he had to steel his resolve.

  "I'm saying a fun threesome is an easier scenario for people to accept," he continued. "If we want something more, if each of us sees this as something for the long haul, we'll deal with a lot worse than a trio of drunk assholes. The reactions of people who are far closer to home. People you can't beat up." He looked toward Chris. "Family, parents, close friends. Coworkers. And what about marriage? Kids? I'm pretty sure we all want those things. How many times has one of you said, When I have a kid . . ."

  "Damn, Geoff, we just started," Chris said, frowning. "Ease off. It's not like we're already thinking about that kind of shit."

  "Really? I am." He crossed his arms as they jerked in reaction. "When Sam took us into Naughty Bits, she pulled the curtain away from what's been going on between us all this time. This relationship may have just graduated to sex, but the rest has been building from the moment we met. How long have you been in love with her, Chris? I can tell her the day it happened, the very minute."

  Chris looked like he was still wrapping his mind around where Geoff was taking this, so Geoff shifted his attention back to Sam, pleased to see she was a hundred percent in the here and now, rather than back at what had happened at the club.

  "It was three weeks after you moved in with us. We'd agreed to let you help clean the apartment and it was your turn on the rotation, the first time you'd done it. You'd put on one of the paint-stained T-shirts Chris has for dirty jobs and were on your knees beneath the kitchen sink, grumbling. 'Why don't men ever do more than a surface clean?' and 'Oh my God, there are dead cockroaches in the back corners . . .'"

  She pressed her lips against a smile as he imitated her annoyed, feminine tone. "Chris pointed out that it was better to find dead ones than live ones. You sat back on your heels and you had a smudge of grease on your cheek. You stuck your tongue out at him and pointed an imperious finger below the sink." Geoff imitated her voice once again; credibly enough he heard Chris's half chuckle and Sam's smile broke through. "'I clean. I do not handle dead bug removal. That is men's work.'"

  Geoff took a seat on the arm of the occasional chair, stretching out his legs so his shoes weren't far from her slim foot in its wedge heel. Her toenails were painted a pretty lavender. He let his gaze travel leisurely over her, another message. He was in the here and now, the events of the club having no hold on his desire for her. She got the message, because when he reached her face, her lips had parted, her gray eyes riveted on him.

  "There was nothing earth-shattering about that moment," he said. Glancing toward Chris, he found his friend's expression harder to read. "It was just one out of the thousand moments accumulating since we intercepted Anthony that day, but it was the click point. I saw it happen in his eyes. When he came to the sink to wet a paper towel to collect the bugs, he nudged you with his leg. You pushed at him, playful, but when he squatted beside you, you used his shoulder to get back on your feet. The casual intimacy was already there, easy as that. He looked toward his shoulder when you let go of him as if he was thinking about how it felt, having you touch him. And how he wanted you to do it again."

  Geoff paused as Sam turned her gaze to Chris. He'd still said nothing, but his expression didn't deny it. "What you didn't see," Geoff addressed the other man, "was that was the exact moment it happened for Sam too. Even though she might not be aware of it."

  Chris's attention snapped to Geoff, but swiveled just as quickly back to Sam. From how she swallowed, Geoff though she might have been aware of it after all.

  "When you left the kitchen, Chris, she started putting things back under the sink." Geoff shifted on his seat. "She got an itch and rubbed her chin on her shoulder. Then she pressed her nose into the fabric so she could inhale it. Like she was smelling your scent, learning it, taking it inside her. She'd forgotten I was watching her, but when she noticed, she flushed and went back to cleaning. She could have passed it off with a joke, like the shirt smelling like paint or some such nonsense, but she didn't. She just tucked her head down and didn't say anything."

  Sam sank down in the chair. Geoff stroked a lock of her hair from her face and she pressed her face into his palm. He bent over her, dropping a kiss on her crown.

  Straightening, Geoff looked between them. "So, back to my original point. How many people have a relationship this long without starting to think about marriage and kids?" He nudged Sam. "You analyze things to death. I'm pretty sure you thought of it even before we did, so what conclusions did you reach?"

  "I was trying not to go there." She lifted her chin. "The feelings might not be new, but expressing them this way . . . that is new. It was nice to enjoy it without making it complicated like that yet."

  His heart tightened with regret, and he spoke in a gentler tone. "You're absolutely right. We don't have to rush into all of that. My point is, whatever this is, it's stronger than some stupid thing that happened at a nightclub."

  "Way stronger," she said resolutely.

  "Good." Geoff tugged her hair. "So we're not a fling you're having before you hook up with some rich banker."

  "I don't know." She pursed her lips. "Depends on how rich he is. And if he's not too old and yucky-looking."

  Geoff looked deliberately over his shoulder. "They have a wide variety of flat kitchen utensils in here. A few metal ones. They'd probably leave some nice imprints on your ass."

  "You'd have to catch me first."

  He gave her a look that informed her that wouldn't be a problem and was gratified to see that pretty flush on her cheeks which said she'd conjured some blatant end results of him chasing her down. It worked for him, but they weren't quite ready to shift those gears yet. Sobering, he extended a hand. When she put hers into his palm, he closed his fingers on it, and adjusted so he could look at her and Chris at the same time.

  Chris was far from relaxed yet, but he'd shifted onto the sofa instead of perching on the arm, a good sign. Sam took a breath. "Geoff . . . will you tell me when it happened for you?"

  "You might not appreciate it."

  She studied him. "It was the night you went out with Tally Winters."

  She never failed to surprise him, in so many arresting and not always comfortable ways. He did his best not to squirm as Chris gave him a look. Yeah, that gate worked b
oth ways for them. Chris had known when it happened for Geoff as much as he had for Chris.

  Geoff moved to sit on the coffee table so he was sitting in profile to Chris. He drew Sam close to plant his shoes on either side of her feet and hem her in between his knees. He gripped her hips, sliding his hands around to cup her buttocks in casual possession. "Is that right?" he said mildly.

  She tried to cross her arms and look miffed, but he shook his head. "Leave your hands down at your sides and tell me why you think it was then."

  Using the right words to bring forth those lovely submissive reactions of hers was a potent magic. The pulse jumping in her throat, her gaze centering on his face. The nervous little tremor that went through her body made her vibrate under his hands.

  She took a breath. "You came home from the date early. Way early. You smelled like her perfume, but you went into your room and took a shower. You'd taken a shower before the date, so I thought it was peculiar, but when you came back out in your pajama bottoms, you smelled like you, not a trace of her on your skin. You sat down on the couch with me, gave me this look and asked, "Better?"

  She forgot his mandate about leaving her arm at her side, her finger picking at some invisible lint on his shoulder. Reaching up, he clasped her wrist, but her words held them there. Her gray eyes slid to meet his. "I realized you'd had sex with her, which I hated. Yet you'd taken a shower before touching me. And asked me if that made things better. It confused me, but it also felt . . . wonderful. Hopeful. I nodded and you put your arm around me. We watched Justified, and I fell asleep with my head on your shoulder. When I woke up later, my head was in your lap and you'd put a blanket over me. Chris had come in to make a snack, and the two of you were talking. You mentioned your leg was asleep, but when Chris offered to carry me to bed you said no, you didn't mind."

  She moistened her lips. "So I know when it happened, but I'd like to know how and why."

  Geoff cleared his throat. Hearing all the details she'd recalled had touched him far more deeply than he'd expected. Chris leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, and Geoff was conscious of his hands being close enough to touch Geoff's hip.