Mind (Naughty Wishes #3) Page 3

  “Uh-huh.” Chris’s chuckle was humorless, though. “She has a lot of fantasies about having the two of us with her . . . at the same time. We could do more of that.”

  “Yeah. And I expect we’ll all enjoy the hell out of it. But there’s more than one way to do that. You want me to repeat what I said in the yard, in case your memory is failing you?”

  Chris’s brown eyes sparked. “Don’t be a dick.”

  Geoff pulled back from that sharp edge, though it took an effort. “I’m just saying. You want me to spell out the obvious?”

  Chris’s gaze shifted back to the TV, an involuntary response to the elephant in the room. Chris had always known and accepted Geoff’s flexible bisexual nature, so it wasn’t that. And if Chris weren’t wired to get a hard-on for a guy, there’d be no elephant now. The problem was, Geoff knew they responded to each other, though they’d often channeled it other ways. There were a variety of reasons for that, most never spoken, but all boiling down to one thing. Their friendship was as vital to each of them as the air they breathed, and sometimes you bypassed certain roads if you thought the oxygen might get too thin there.

  Then Sam had come into their lives, and she’d let them see that sometimes the air was just fine down those roads—better, even. So now they were facing the wall they’d built in front of that line they’d never crossed, and Geoff was pretty sure they were both seeking a door.

  Everything was always timing. Sam would say the timing was here and now, no more excuses, no more waiting. But Geoff liked to have a handle on a problem before he jumped in with both feet, and he couldn’t quite grasp the shape of that problem for Chris.

  “You remember that day when you found Sam and me together in the shower? You punched me.” He tried to keep his tone casual.

  “Fond memories.” Chris tossed him a neutral Can we talk about anything else? look.

  “Yeah. Asshole. You were pissed and hurt.” Geoff’s tone softened, and Chris shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “I’m sorry for that. You stepped back from me after the punch, sending out this Don’t touch me vibe as big as a football field. But I’ve thought a lot about that since then. For just a blink, you looked at me like you were wanting just the opposite.”

  Geoff had chased him from the shower to the kitchen, where the punch had happened. He’d managed, barely, to hold on to the towel he’d hastily grabbed. Chris’s heated look, brief as it had been, had slid over his bare shoulders, the water beaded on him, the precarious hold of the towel low on his hips. Whenever Geoff had thought about it since then, it never failed to get him hard. “I think you were torn between wanting to punch me and wanting something else. You’re a fighter, Chris, but that fight isn’t always about wanting to be on top.”

  “I’m not like Sam.”

  “I know that, Chris. Look at me.”

  He sharpened his tone just enough to walk that fine line he was talking about. Because he managed it, he earned a glance out of Chris’s brooding brown eyes. “Keep looking at me when I ask you this next question. Have you thought about my mouth being on you? On your mouth, on any other part of your body? On all of it? When I told you out in the yard that I want to be inside you next time you’re inside her, I could tell it wasn’t the first time you’ve thought about me fucking you. And how it would feel.”

  Christ, just saying it aloud had his jeans biting into his dick. Chris’s jaw firmed. He was white-knuckling his beer.

  “Chris, I know you’re not fighting some bullshit sexual identity crisis. So what the hell is it? Talk to me.”

  Chris’s look could have seared paint off of metal. He drained his own beer, set it aside and got up. “Don’t push it. I’m going to bed,” he said. He flipped off the TV, tossed the remote aside and moved around the coffee table, headed for the hallway.

  “Gonna lock your door?” Geoff asked caustically.

  Chris stopped and eyed him. “Do I need to?”

  Despite the turmoil in his gut, Geoff shot him an even expression. “When it’s time, you’ll come to me, Chris. Not the other way around.”

  * * *

  He shouldn’t have said that. But hell, he was frustrated. Over the years, he and Chris had reached a point they could practically communicate without words, so the brick-wall routine was pissing him off. And worrying him. His friend could be as deep as a cave that went right to the middle of the earth. When he was like that, it was usually about the things that mattered the most.

  Sam had been so worried her actions were what would ruin the friendship between the two men. Since Geoff was self-admittedly the most aggressive, and yeah, he’d concede to being the one with the lion’s share of arrogance, he was far more likely to derail the train. Not just derail it, but send it off a cliff and exploding with a big pyrotechnic foom at the bottom of a canyon. Wasn’t that a cheerful thought?

  He spent a couple of hours debating the pros and cons of how to proceed, but when push came to shove, what mattered to him was serving the best interests of the client. If he didn’t have the skills or information to do that, he found them. It applied to home even more than to work, and he was pretty damn intense about work.

  When Logan Scott had given Geoff his cell number, Geoff had programmed it into his phone, even though he wasn’t sure he’d ever use it. But the owner of the hardware store next to Naughty Bits—the erotica store into which Sam had pulled them to get all this started—was also an experienced Dom, and Geoff wasn’t going to let pride stand in the way of his doing this right.

  Logan answered on the third ring. Never one to mince words, Geoff offered a brief greeting and a briefer explanation. He didn’t realize how tightly wound he was until Logan responded warmly, loosening that coil in Geoff’s gut.

  “Yeah, now’s a great time. I’m at a private party tonight doing a whip demo, but the host says you’re welcome to come on over. By the time you’re here, I should be done.”

  When Geoff left the house, Chris’s door was still closed. Through it, Geoff heard the murmur of his small TV. Chris usually set it at low volume when he was using it to fall asleep. Geoff was tempted to try the knob, just to see if it was locked, but he’d meant what he said. Chris might be a balanced bastard, with top, middle and bottom qualities, but Geoff was pretty clear on who and what he was. Though up until now he’d only pursued his Dom side in more of a passive, watch-and-learn mode rather than seeking out a Dom/sub relationship, he’d known what he was since he’d hit puberty. Yet now that he’d finally found the partners to inspire him to grasp that side of himself with both hands and launch it into play, he was lacking some key information.

  Well, that was why he was going to go see Logan. If Logan had nothing useful to offer, he’d just come back, brain Chris with a blunt object, fuck him and let him wake in Geoff’s arms, the deed done. Yeah, that would work, because putting tab A into slot B was the only hurdle here. Not.

  Despite his preoccupation with resolving things with violence, he took the time to leave a note. Neither of them used to do that, but Sam had gotten them into the habit, mainly because she’d only do it if they agreed to do so.

  “Boys can get into as much trouble as girls,” she’d pointed out. “I need to know where to come and rescue you if you need it.”

  The thought made him smile. He scrawled the note out on the back of a bill envelope. Went out. Have cell if you need me. That last part was kind of superfluous. He frowned at himself for writing it, but then he shrugged, popped the envelope under the Despicable Me bug-eyed Kyle fridge magnet Chris had brought back from his Orlando landscaping trip. As he pulled out of the driveway, Geoff thought he saw a movement at the living room window, but it could have been the shadows.

  Logan’s private party was happening in a warehouse down near the NC Music Factory complex. The turn-of-the-century textile mill that had been turned into an amalgamation of trendy restaurants, clubs and entertainment venues wasn’t big on parking, so everything nearby was full up. It took Geoff a few minutes to find a spot,
and another few minutes to discover the warehouse entrance. A thirtysomething male with dreadlocks and a trim black suit was watching the door, but when Geoff gave his name and referenced Logan, he was let through with a nod. “Take the lift to the second level,” the man said. “The loud stuff’s on the top level, dancing and such, but session play and demos are on the second floor. That’s where you’ll find Logan.”

  When the lift opened up on the second level, Geoff was greeted by a woman in a pink corset and thong, carrying a clipboard. “I’m Daisy,” she said. “Can you sign in and show me some ID, please?”

  All pretty standard fare. Despite the wild reputation BDSM had, thanks to TV crime dramas and misinformation, real lifestylers were careful and highly protective of one another. He signed in, showed his license and was told he could find Logan in the whip playroom, which was apparently at the back end of the floor. As he moved through different stations, people spoke in conversational voices but not raucously, respecting the scenes going on between Doms and their subs. He saw some impressive suspension work and a couple of electric play sessions in progress. As he passed a woman in a forced orgasm tower with a Hitachi wand buzzing between her thighs, her face contorted with the strain of the impending climax.

  Geoff paused. Her eyes were streaming with tears as her Dom held her from behind, his hand under her chin, keeping it up so those watching could see her expression as she climbed toward orgasm. Her hands were bound to her sides, but Geoff noted one set of her fingers was curled in the leg of her Master’s pants, holding on to him. Subtle signs of surrender, consent, of need and devotion. Geoff thought of Sam, how she looked at him. He thought of Chris in the yard today, a different look on his face.

  He really did have to be arrogant as hell to think he could provide what they both needed. But didn’t that work in either direction? Sam probably worried about being enough for him and Chris over the long haul. And Chris . . . well, if he knew nothing else, Geoff knew that Chris would do anything for either one of them. Truthfully, it was why he was here. Geoff might be frustrated, but he also loved the guy. The issue wasn’t just being whatever they both needed, but realizing he needed them and putting himself out there to see where it went from there.

  His lips twisted wryly. Sam had figured that one out far quicker, but she was better at being vulnerable, the curse and blessing of being female. Whereas guys sometimes seemed encased in emotional armor, locked into it until it strangled them.

  He paused by a man doing a hot wax and mummification scene. His male sub had been wrapped in pallet wrap from shoulders to ankles, and the Dom was ladling wax over him. He was explaining to his audience that it would create a heavy, additional blanket that would have a cocooning effect on the submissive. It would also increase the restraint in case the Dom wanted to up the edge play with nipple or genital clamping where he’d cut holes in the wrap in those areas.

  The Dom had a male slave assisting him, watching the temperature of the wax in the Crock-Pots. When he wasn’t doing that, he was using a flexible rod to do a little bastinado on the bottoms of the sub’s feet. Geoff watched their subject’s toes curl and uncurl in reaction. Mixed expressions of ecstasy and pain suffused the submissive’s countenance. But when his Master bent over him, speaking softly to him, his tone obviously one of crooning praise, the sub’s expression was easy to read. He was flying, his eyes dazed but adoring.

  Geoff thought of having Chris in such a position. Nerves rippled through him at the idea of his friend trusting him that much. Geoff wasn’t as much into the hardcore pain stuff like the bastinado, the caning or clamping, but he liked the idea of Chris letting him create a warm cocoon around him, giving him that sense of protection and safety. There were times in Geoff’s life that Chris had been a cocoon of strength around him. He might like to give him the same thing, Dom style.

  As to his sadistic side, it ran along a more sensual gamut. He could imagine cutting a hole in the plastic for Chris’s cock and commanding Sam to wrap her lips around it to bring Chris to a climax. He might apply a switch to her pretty butt to focus her on the task, because Sam enjoyed playing more on that edge. But after she was working Chris’s cock in her mouth, sliding up and down his rigid length, Geoff would lay a hand on Chris’s forehead, make him stare up into his attentive face as pleasure took over, Chris giving it all to him and Sam.

  Geoff moved onward, to the back, where the whip demo was being held. It appeared to have been concluded only a few minutes before, because Logan was answering some questions and people were still milling about, examining the whips he’d left out on display. Even dressed casually in jeans and a button-down, the forty-something Dom, his long brown hair tied back on his broad shoulders, emanated authority and a calm in-charge vibe. It was obvious the people asking him questions and listening intently to his answers trusted his expertise, which made Geoff feel calling him had been the right move.

  His demo bottom was still grounding. The young blonde woman with a light blanket wrapped over her bare shoulders was sipping a Coke, sitting on a chair. Logan’s attention was clearly divided between her and the questions he was answering. When he finally broke it off with the group, he moved back to her side. She checked her watch, said something that obviously meant she had to go. Logan drew her to her feet. When he set the blanket away from her, Geoff saw she was wearing only a pair of panties, displaying a lithe body with small breasts and a tattoo of roses around her navel. Logan made her step away from him, walk, turn, and prove she was steady.

  She shot him a playful look and spun in a circle, then tumbled back against him, laughing. Rolling his eyes, he slapped her ass, but after that he folded his arms around her, offering a bolstering hug. From the sigh that lifted her shoulders, Geoff deduced she was taking a last little draught of aftercare from his arms.

  Then he gently pushed her back, said something. Geoff noticed they didn’t kiss, and nothing in their affection suggested they were lovers. If anything, Logan’s behavior toward her was paternal, and not in a Daddy Dom way. Many people sought outlets in Dom/sub play that didn’t involve actual sex. Though they needed the special type of connection and intimacy that could be found in kink, their hearts might be committed to significant others in the non-BDSM world.

  Based on what he’d felt from Sam so far, Geoff doubted her need for submission was going to wane. She seemed as eager to embrace that side of herself as he was his own Dom side. But Chris was a different matter. If this wasn’t Chris’s thing, but Sam still wanted both of them—and Geoff really wasn’t seeing this working any way other than as a three-point relationship—how would they figure that out?

  When the blonde moved away with an enticingly innocent sway of hips, Logan saw him. He waved him over and pointed to a chair, sliding a hip onto a stool behind him while he picked up a bottle of water and took a healthy swig. “Geoff. Good to see you.”

  “I appreciate you meeting me.”

  “Timing was good. So what’s up? Things okay with Sam?” Logan gave him a more thorough look, noting the bruise on Geoff’s face that had welled up after the earlier wrestling match. “She do that?”

  “No.” Geoff touched the spot and winced because it was still sore. “Chris and I had . . . I’d say it was an argument, but it was more like veiled foreplay that turned a little violent. Sam and I, though, we’re good.” Geoff hesitated. “My question has to do with Chris.”

  A smile touched Logan’s mouth. “Yeah. I was surprised you didn’t bring him up the first time, but figured you were a linear kind of guy. One complicated issue at a time.”

  “Yeah.” On the way over, Geoff had thought of presenting the information just that way, but he decided maybe linear wasn’t the best way for this. “Sam did something the other night.”

  Geoff explained the night she’d brought herself and Chris into Geoff’s bedroom. “It seemed like a mutual thing at the end, Chris wanting to lie on the floor instead of in the bed with us. But when I told him to stay, to lie down, I realized I wante
d him on the floor. Not because I didn’t want him. I’m not explaining this well.”

  “You’re doing just fine.” Logan’s steady eyes never wavered from his face. Geoff thought he’d be a great choice for a court-ordered mediator. “You know what was going on there. On some level, Chris probably did, too, and a part of him was open to it. Else he wouldn’t have stayed. I think he would have made his excuses to Sam to spare her feelings and slipped out. He seems like he’s pretty much his own man.”

  “Yeah. He is. In a quiet way. Most people miss it until they try to treat him like a doormat. He’ll even let them get away with that for a while, if it’s nothing that aggravates him. You know the way a parent’s patient with a kid’s weaknesses? Chris is like that with the whole world. But once you push him, he either becomes a turtle until you go away, or he simply picks you up and sets you out of his way. You have to get pretty deep inside to provoke him.”

  “Looks like you drew that winning straw.” Logan grinned at the bruise again, but then he lifted a shoulder. “Sam is easy. First off, your relationship to her has always been more defined. And she clearly wants to submit. Chris is the unknown. You know he wants to submit, but he’s not as easy as Sam. You’re having to prove Dominance, because he’s another male and he’s got his own alpha thing happening.”

  Geoff thought of their wrestling match. He could have left it alone when Chris backed off, but something in him had retaliated, not willing to let it end without taking his own pound of flesh. Though the wry truth was he’d been able to pull that off because Chris hadn’t been expecting it. Chris’s approach to fighting always reminded Geoff of the line from the movie A Knight’s Tale: “How would you beat him?” “With a stick. While he slept!”

  “Mistresses sometimes have the same issue when dealing with a male sub, especially one who defines himself as an alpha,” Logan continued. “Do you think Chris is a true sub? No editing, just say it straight out.”