Bonds of Desire (12 page)

Richard relented. “There is nothing wrong with being with two men if they want to be with you. I’m assuming they’ve made this known?”

She slumped against the back of the stool. “Yes. Very much so.”

Evan wiggled his brows. “Sounds fabulous to me.”

“Not if I’m in the way.”

“Did they make you feel like that?” Richard asked.

That was another problem. They hadn’t. Not outside of her own imagination. “No. But what if I’m just a passing interest?”

“What if?” Evan shrugged. “If you want to play, do. Just make sure you know the rules going in.”

“You make it seem so simple.” If it were really that simple, she’d be at Seth’s loft right now, doing all sorts of deviant things with two handsome men. But there was more. “They’re dominants.”

Richard cleared his throat and hid a smile behind a sudden need for a sip of coffee. Evan walked around the bar and pulled out the second stool so he could sit facing her. “So what bothers you more? That it’s two men, that they’re into each other as well as you or that they’re dominants?”

“When you put it like that, all of them.” She stared at Evan, the verbalization of her doubts swirling from her brain to her morals, making her sick. The coffee became a congealed ball of sludge that sat hard and painful in her stomach. She tugged on the waistband of her jeans, but it didn’t relieve the ache.

“Why?”

“Because it’s not right!”

“So we’re back to that.” Evan sighed, giving a minor eye roll this time. “Okay, let’s try it this way. How do you feel when you’re with them? Don’t—” he interjected when she started to speak, “—think. Or doubt. Just say how you feel.”

She closed her mouth and bit her tongue to keep her denial to herself. She looked away, unable to handle what she’d see on his face. “Scared. Good. Overwhelmed.”

“Did they force you?”

“No. Never.”

“What about when they’re intimate with each other. How does that make you feel?”

The instant image of them kissing inches from her own mouth flashed in her mind. The needy, hot desire that she couldn’t seem to extinguish in her core burst to life. “Turned on,” she said quietly.

“And when they touch you?”

“Even more turned on.” Why was she telling them this?

“And when they’re dominant with you?”

She swallowed, her throat constricting to a small, parched pipe. “Like I want to listen. That I should listen and do what I’m told.”

“Why?”

God, not that question again. Could she answer, honestly? She had to. “Because...it feels...good to let go.”

Her cheeks burned. She couldn’t believe she was admitting these things aloud, let alone to Richard and Evan. She couldn’t even bring herself to talk to Kendra or Cali, and both of them had experience in the whole Dom/sub world. It was easier to admit this deeply, private stuff to these two men than her two best friends.

Richard’s and Evan’s judgments wouldn’t sit as heavily as her girlfriends’.

“So where’s the problem?” Evan rubbed her thigh, the warmth and friction reaching through her jeans. “When’s the last time you really let go and did something just because it felt good and was fun?”

“My career doesn’t give me a lot of free time.” It was a lame defense

Evan squeezed her knee. “Exactly. So why are you beating yourself over an opportunity to have fun? Go play. Explore. Fulfill all of those suppressed fantasies and be that dirty girl you’ve stifled under your law suits.”

The flush that consumed her made the room feel like an oven, a sharp difference from the chill that had encased her not thirty minutes before. “But I’m not a dirty girl.”

He laughed, the lilting tune as free and light as his personality. “Sweetie, everybody has a naughty side. Letting it out can be exhilarating. Right, babe?” His wink and smirk were all for Richard.

“Behave, Evan. You’re embarrassing our guest.” Richard’s admonishment was anything but harsh.

Allie couldn’t help staring at the silent communication that passed between the two men. The soft look, quirk of a smile, the tiny lift of a chin in acknowledgement—all signals that spoke volumes without a word. They had a bond that was stronger than a lot of hetero couples she knew. There was real love between them. The kind she always seemed to be on the outside of.

Evan pulled his focus back to her. “Whoever put this puritan conservatism in you should be shot. You’re a beautiful woman. I’m not at all surprised you have
two
men after you.” He fanned himself and sighed. “That’s every gay man’s fantasy.”

Laughing, she shook her head. “But I’m not a gay man.”

He cocked a brow and crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t tell me it’s not every straight female’s fantasy, because I won’t believe you.”

“God. I don’t know,” she moaned, rubbing her hand over her eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I usually go with my gut in these situations,” Richard said. He’d moved around to stand behind Evan’s chair and rubbed the other man’s shoulders.

“Oh, screw your gut,” Evan contradicted. “Go with your heart.”

“My gut is telling me I’m going to be sick,” she mumbled. “And my heart says run. Fast.”

“How would it feel if you walked away?”

She clenched her teeth, the truth hovering behind her tightly held lips, afraid to come out. But she needed to say it. “Liked I missed out on something special.”

“Yeah? Do you want to live with that?”

And that was the crux of her problem. “No,” she whispered. The rain spattered against the small window over the sink, the trailing rivers of water blurring the view of the courtyard. “But I don’t know if I can live with myself if I do.”

“That’s a decision only you can figure out.”

She looked up at Richard. “You won’t make it for me?”

“So you can blame me later? No.” He chuckled. “You have to own your decision, or it’ll never sit right with you.”

Which was exactly why she’d run the other night. She’d panicked when it had felt like she wasn’t getting a chance to decide. They’d swooped in and consumed her before she’d even understood what was going on. The little incident in the bed hadn’t prepared her for the double-teaming kitchen episode.

If she went back, it’d be on her terms. Not Seth’s or Tyler’s. They might want to dominate her, which made her all kinds of hot and horny to think of that happening sexually, but they wouldn’t dominate her life and her decisions.

She blew out a long, relieving breath. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Evan asked. “We didn’t do anything.”

She stood, feeling better than she had in days. “You talked to me without judging. That’s everything.” She gave them each a hug.

Evan got up and moved to the oven. “Do you want to stay for dinner? I made plenty.” He opened the oven door, a fresh, spicy waft of what looked like meat loaf coating the air.

She inhaled and was brought back to the close confines of her mother’s kitchen. The meal had been a favorite of her brothers. “It smells delicious,” she said. “But I’ve got to go. I’ve already taken up half your evening.”

He waved her off. “Don’t be silly. You’re always welcome.”

The rain was still coming down when she stepped off the porch and hurried home. Her own place was just around the corner in the adjacent building, but she was still soaked when she reached her condo.

Locking the door behind her, she slipped off her shoes then yanked off her wet sweater as she made her way upstairs to her bedroom. She needed to think and for some strange reason, her best thoughts always happened in the shower. Of course, she’d been thinking for days without success, but she had more to stew on now.

Her research skills had been put to good use the last two days. She’d learned more than she’d ever thought possible about the BDSM world after a thorough internet search. There were things she’d never be interested in. But there were components that had excited her. Even if it was hard to admit.

She had knowledge now, and that gave her power. How she chose to use it was up to her.

Chapter Fourteen

Seth reclined on his leather couch and wormed into the cushions that conformed to his back. The television blared some action-fight flick that really didn’t interest him, but it filled the space in his mind. And that was way better than all of the crap that normally filled it.

He looked around his loft, briefly wondering what other people thought of his place. Of him. Everything was top-of-the-line, from the electronics and furnishings to the art and knickknacks selected by a designer. It was all precisely blended to define the masculine, successful bachelor.

And sometimes, it made him want to puke.

It felt like such a sham. He was a sham. Any day now, everyone was going to figure that out, and it would all be gone.

“Do you want to watch something else?” Tyler turned his head and looked up at Seth. “This movie sucks.” The grin he flashed was filled with the gentle confidence that Seth was discovering was the real Tyler.

“Whatever you want,” Seth answered. He’d do whatever it took to keep Tyler relaxed and content. The last two days alone with the other man had been some of the most enjoyable he’d had in a very long time. There’d been nothing sexual between them since that first night alone, outside of a few kisses and moments like this, which were more comforting than sexual.

In some ways, it was like they were both waiting for Allie to come back. Not that there was much chance of that. In the meantime, they were getting to know each other without pressure or expectations. It was a novelty, one he was enjoying. He’d been surprised to discover that Tyler’s gift for cooking really was that. The man had a talent for bringing random ingredients together to make an excellent meal. He’d said it was a survival skill he’d learned growing up. Seth understood that. It wasn’t that different from what Tyler did now to earn money. Survival skills.

Tyler turned back to the television, resuming to his position of using Seth’s lap as a pillow. His long legs were stretched down the couch, his feet hanging off the end. He started flicking through channels, pausing here and there to read show descriptions before moving on.

Seth glanced down the expanse of Tyler’s back. The marks were healing nicely. The lesser ones had already faded. The deeper ones had scabbed over and were diminishing more each day. There was still a chance of some scarring, but the prescription medication helped with that. Every time he looked at the damage, his resolve grew stronger to make Master Rex pay. But unless Tyler acted, Seth’s hands were tied behind the legality of the club’s contracts—and Tyler was insistent on letting it go.

It’d taken time, but Tyler had finally relaxed and let Seth care for him. The first time Tyler had lain quietly without tensing or complaint while Seth had applied the ointment to
all
of his injuries had been amazing. That small act of submission had displayed a trust that he knew wasn’t easy for a man who came from the streets and made a living giving his body to others. And Tyler had given that trust to Seth.

There was a part of him that didn’t want Tyler to get better, only because that would mean he’d leave. It was a sick thought that he acknowledged, but it didn’t change his feelings.

He stroked his fingers through the soft strands of Tyler’s hair. Each swipe pulled the longer bangs back before falling forward once again.

He would miss this right here. He didn’t want to, but it wasn’t often that he got to just sit with someone and simply enjoy it. Tyler hadn’t run after Allie left. But every day since, a part of Seth had been waiting for that to happen.

The activities that took place in the club were something Jake and Deklan enjoyed more than Seth did. Putting on the clothes and attitude was simple enough, and he did it to maintain the image of The Den. But finding excitement or pleasure from inflicting pain? Not his thing. This, here. This was his thing. Not that anyone knew that.

The hard knock on the door startled them both.

Tyler jerked up and turned his head to frown at Seth. “You expecting someone?”

“No.” Seth glanced at the wall clock, the lateness already telegraphed by the darkness outside. “It must be Dek or Jake.” There weren’t many who knew the elevator or stairwell code to get to this floor. That meant there were problems at the club, and Seth really didn’t want to go down there tonight. He’d turned his phone off for that reason.

Tyler started to sit up, but Seth halted him with a gentle pressure to his nape. “Don’t. You’re fine.” Tyler settled back down, but there was a new tension to his shoulders. Still, he stayed, and that said more than words.

“Come in,” Seth hollered. “It’s open.” He didn’t feel like getting up. Plus he wanted to see how Tyler responded around others. They’d been in their own little world for days. It was time to test if what they were building had any chance of making it past this week.

The door clicked open, and Tyler muted the television. The rumble of luggage wheels announced Allie’s entry. The breath stalled in Seth’s lungs, the implications shocking him silent.

Tyler went still as Allie closed the door and set her suitcase in the entry. She removed her wet coat, hung it over the upright handle of the black roller bag and slipped off her shoes. Seth could just pick up the faint patter of rain through an open window. The fresh scent of wet mixed with clean cement floated through the room.

Allie took a deep breath that pulled her shoulders back before turning to face them. She wiped her hands on her jeans, lifted her chin and marched toward them. Her hair was down tonight, the curls springing to life to bounce against her brown sweater with each determined step. She stopped before the couch, her lean form blocking the television as she took them in.

“You came back.” The statement was unnecessary, but it was all Seth could say. This was her show, and if they wanted her with them, they had to wait for her.

She braced her hands on her hips. “There has to be rules.” No preamble or causal pleasantries. She just dove right in.

“What do you mean?”

“For us.” She swiveled her hand in a circle, indicating the three of them. “If we’re going to do this, there has to be rules.”

He kept that spark of hope deeply buried and pulled out the cool reserve that was natural for him. “And what are we going to do?”

Her eyes narrowed, her jaw going tight. “Don’t play stupid with me. That, that—” She stuttered and waved her hand at the kitchen. “What happened in the kitchen the other night. That. I won’t do it without rules.”

“Why’d you come back?”

Her focus dropped to Tyler. His question was searching for more than the simple obvious answer. She stepped forward and kneeled, resting back on her heels so she was at his eye level. “That’s a fair question. One I’m honestly not sure of.” She looked down then jerked her head back up to meet Tyler’s eyes. “I...dang,” she whispered, losing her battle to maintain eye contact.

Tyler reached out and stroked a thumb down her jaw, a slow pass that ended at her chin. He tilted it back, her gaze darting up to Seth before yielding to Tyler’s silent command.

“You’re sure about this?” Tyler brushed his thumb over her mouth, which parted on a soft sigh.

She wet her lips, her tongue snaking out to pass over Tyler’s thumb as well. “As sure as I can be. But I need to know what’s going on.” She glanced at Seth. “And why.”

“The why is as simple as we like each other.” Tyler leaned forward and drew her in until their lips touched in a chase kiss. He leaned back. “This feels good.”

Her tongue tracked over her lips again, this time slower. “But there has to be more than that,” she insisted. “It’s not normal for three people to do this.”

“And who defines normal?” Seth asked. He stretched out his foot to run a slow pass up her thigh, her jeans soft under his sole. Her small shudder wasn’t visible, but he felt it shimmy down her leg. “There’re many who have no problem with three people being together.”

She stared hard and long at him. “And there are even more who do.”

“You ran once,” Tyler interrupted, his voice low and challenging. “You gonna do that again?”

Allie blew out a breath, her cheeks puffing with the effort. “That’s why I need the rules.”

“What kind of rules?”

She looked back to Seth. “The kind like your club has. Between clients. If I know the rules, I know how to play and what to expect.”

Seth nodded. He understood that and gave her points for being smart about this. They might not be playing in The Den, but the risks where still there. For all of them. “Do you want it in writing, or is verbal enough?”

Tyler gripped his thigh, his hand hidden from Allie’s view. They hadn’t talked about Allie’s departure. Maybe Tyler didn’t want this. Hell, they hadn’t figured out what, if anything, the two of them were doing. Adding a third would only complicate it. Yet Seth didn’t want to say no. To either of them.

“Are you okay with this, Tyler?” Seth increased the pressure on the other man’s nape. “I want the truth.”

The hold on his thigh tightened in time with Tyler’s slow exhale. The silent wiggling of Tyler’s toe ceased, and that alone sent sparks of power flashing through Seth. “Not if she’s running again,” Tyler stated.

Allie jerked back, her eyes going wide. The doubt was back, along with an edge of vulnerability.

Tyler didn’t shy away or lessen the hard tone of his voice though. “Either you’re in or you’re out. But don’t lead us on like we’re your private play things.”

“But I,” she started, her head shaking in denial. “I didn’t do that.”

“Didn’t you? It was a mind game to you until you found yourself pressed between the whore and the Dom. And you liked it. You roped us in then split when it became too real.”

Her face turned stony, her eyelids dropping closed. The silence was filled with the patter of the rain that clattered like a chorus of out-of-sync tap dancers beating through the room.

Tyler turned his head and pressed a kiss to Seth’s thigh. The moist warmth reached through Seth’s jeans and shot straight to his groin. It let him know that they’d be okay if Allie ran again. But Seth truly believed they’d be better if she stayed. Tyler needed the balance, and they both desired her.

Seth rubbed his foot over Allie’s thigh, a silent support to her inner struggle. She looked at him through her lashes, the questions clearer than if she’d spoken.

That was all he needed. “What are your rules, Allie?”

The wave of relief that stretched unseen through the air was almost tangible. She placed her hand around Seth’s ankle and squeezed. “I don’t like pain. At all. The whole spanking, whipping, hitting thing I don’t understand or want.”

“It’s not my kink either,” Tyler mumbled. Allie’s eyes flashed to Tyler’s back, the doubt displayed on her face. “That was for money. Not enjoyment.”

She stared at him. “You need the money that badly?”

The neck muscles under Seth’s palm tensed instantly. “Don’t you dare judge me.”

The pain in those words was smothered under the defensive bristle that Seth now recognized. He gave Tyler’s neck a firm squeeze and let his thumb find that soothing stroke over his bristly nape hairs. “She wasn’t judging, Tyler.”

“I wasn’t.” She pleaded with her eyes while she held Seth’s ankle in a death grip that matched Tyler’s hold on his thigh. “I’m trying to understand.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m trying to understand too.”

It was the tone, not the words that went too far. Seth had thought they were past that. And maybe he and Tyler were, but things were still touchy with Allie.

“Tyler,” Seth warned. He gave one hard squeeze before removing his palm from Tyler’s nape. “I told you that doesn’t go in my house. The only one judging you is you.”

Tyler turned his face into Seth’s leg. “Fuck.” The curse was muffled but still clear. The toe bouncing started up in earnest, the action so subtle that few probably noticed it. But Seth did. “Sorry.” The apology was as distorted as the curse, yet the sincerity was there.

“So no pain.” Seth projected a low calm into his voice that was close to the one he used in his business negotiations. He looked to Allie. “What else?”

She brushed her hair over her shoulder, her focus on Tyler. “That was the big one,” she said softly. “Plus none of the other extreme things, like blood or urine.” She paused to cringe. “And I won’t do humiliation. You call me a slut, and I’m out of here.” Her voice rose to match the fierce glare she shot both men.

Seth smiled inside but kept his neutral expression in place. That was the spirit he recognized. “Never.” He bounced his leg, jarring Tyler with the movement.

Tyler turned his head back to look at Allie. “You’re not a slut.”

The starchy rigidness deflated from her spine, her grip loosening its vicious clamp on Seth’s ankle.

“Is that all?” Seth prodded.

“Yes,” she answered, but it didn’t sound convincing.

“What is it?”

She stared at that small space between her knees and the couch. “Will you listen if I say stop?”

“Yes. Always. Do you want a safe word?”

She glanced up, shifting only her eyes. “Sunflower.” The fact that she answered immediately without a barrage of questions, combined with her earlier demands, told Seth that she’d done her homework. The Allie who’d walked into The Den four months ago wouldn’t have known what a safe word was, let alone have one ready.

He returned his hand to Tyler’s neck. The instantaneous sigh that eased from the man was satisfying in its own right. “What about you, Tyler? Any rules?”

“No one’s going near my ass.” Crudely put, but clearly stated. Allie’s eyes widened. Obviously she hadn’t put all the pieces and parts together yet.

“Not ’til you say so,” Seth agreed. One day though, he hoped Tyler would lift that restriction. But it wouldn’t happen until he fully trusted Seth.

“None of that spanking, whipping crap either,” Tyler added.

“That goes for all three of us, then. We don’t need it.”

Tyler nodded. “No public displays. This stays here, between us only.”

“God, yes,” Allie agreed. Her eyes were about as wide open as they could go. She pressed a hand to her chest. “I hadn’t even thought about taking this downstairs. But no. I won’t do that.”