Mind (Naughty Wishes #3) (11 page)

“I said this to Sam and I guess, with you having known about me for so long, I forgot to say it to you, though I probably made it pretty damn obvious last night.” Geoff shifted. Seeing Geoff unsettled was a rare, fascinating occurrence.

“I’ve thought about this stuff for a long time, Chris. Even done some of it at the parties and such, with people who are experienced. I didn’t have to put a lot of effort into making sure we were communicating clearly beyond function, because it was limited, temporary. It’s like you said last night. Pursuing it with people who matter to me the way you and Sam do . . . I’m not always going to be right on target. Keeping you in the loop, keeping you safe emotionally, physically, that’s what’s most important to me, no matter that sometimes I let my pride get in the way, or my sheer damn desire to go after what I’ve been wanting from you both for so long.”

Chris blinked at the raw passion in Geoff’s face, his voice. His foot was braced only a couple of inches to the left of Geoff’s, so they were close enough to touch, if one of them reached out.

“I was thinking about some of the things you said last night,” Geoff said carefully. “You’ve watched, and you pick up things pretty fast, but we really haven’t set aside time to talk, you and me, about how Sam is. Submission is pretty intuitive for her, and I’m clear on what I am, so what she is can be easier for me to figure out. If there’s anything else you want to ask, anything making you feel uncomfortable . . .”

He trailed off, leaving it open for Chris. He knew what Geoff was saying about Sam was right, because hadn’t he just acknowledged seeing those triggers in her? More than acknowledged; he’d pressed on them himself last night. Yet Chris was also remembering the first time they’d met Sam, when she’d been attacked by her ex-boyfriend. “Do you think how she is . . . that’s why she let someone like Anthony past her guard? She wanted to please him, the way she wants to please us . . .”

Geoff’s eyes flashed, his usual reaction to Anthony’s name. Chris had a similar loathing for the male. “No. And yes. I think guys like Anthony can latch on to someone who has more submissive instincts, who’s a pleaser. But there’s a line between that and someone who gets screwed up in the head and stays in an abusive situation. Remember, she turned her back on him. She was strong enough to walk away. A healthy submissive knows her first responsibility is to take care of herself. Which might sound strange when she also craves some pain or erotic humiliation, but once you’re inside it, you can tell the
difference.”

Geoff ran his hand over the bench again. “Like this. We want it to be soft and comfortable, even though when she’s on it, fully restrained, she’s going to want to get spanked. Maybe more than that. Maybe she’ll want to be caned, switched, flogged, whipped.”

Chris set his jaw. “I can’t . . . I wouldn’t do that.”

“Could you handle me doing it, if it’s what she wants?” When Chris didn’t immediately respond, Geoff nodded. “You might surprise yourself. You liked the idea of spanking her, making her gorgeous ass red, and initially you thought you wouldn’t. But then you saw how she reacted to it. That’s the key, Chris. She might want to try out some higher levels of pain. A lot of subs do, after they first get introduced to it, though I suspect Sam is mostly about restraint, low-impact play and psychological domination.”

“I don’t want to talk about her like a lab rat.” At Geoff’s sharp glance, Chris lifted a shoulder. “I mean, it sounds so detached and clinical.”

“You think I’m detached about this? About wanting to make her helpless, give her climax after climax, give her the chance to explore every room inside her that wants this?”

Chris shook his head. “I get it, but . . . it’s still not second nature for me, at least not like it is for you. When we bought the plans for this, and I saw her wondering what we might be thinking about doing, it felt right, the vibes I got from her. But when we’re doing it . . . it feels more impersonal. This is Sam. Our Sam.”

“You bet your ass she is,” Geoff said. “I’m glad you mentioned that. You remember the first wild animal you ever rescued? When we were ten?”

“The squirrel Joel Tanner hit with his BB gun. Knocked him out of a tree and he fell wrong.”

“Yeah. You read everything you could about how to take care of that squirrel. You visited the Raptor Center, talked to the wildlife rehab people. That was how you learned all the mechanics, right? What they needed to eat, how often, how to rehab them back into the wild. But over time, there was the other side of it. When you knew what to do, what they needed to live, you followed your instincts and went beyond how to treat an injury to how to heal it. Two different things, but both were necessary. Right?”

Geoff reached out, closed a hand on his forearm and squeezed. It was the reassurance of a friend, but there was another element to it, too, from someone who knew way more about this than Chris. The gesture, Geoff taking the time to talk this out, reminded Chris he did trust Geoff more than anyone. And Geoff loved Sam, just as much as he did.

“We learn how to make this work, all the mechanics. But the reason we do all that is so we know how to get beyond that, how to care for her, enjoy her, love her on the deepest levels, way beyond mechanics. No one’s detached from any of this. We’re all in it together.” Geoff nudged him. “We’re all on the yellow brick road together, Tin Man.”

Chris snorted at that, picking up the measuring tape. “Okay. But if I keep asking you questions, you’re not going to start acting like a know-it-all, are you?”

Geoff grinned at him. “I thought you said I already act that way.”

“Yeah, you do. I just don’t want it to get any worse, or I’ll have to kill you and grind you up for fertilizer.”

“Fair enough.”

They went back to work then. Measuring and cutting, switching back and forth between favorite radio stations. Drinking coffee. They’d been friends so long, they could talk or not talk and still be comfortable with each other. Topics were random. Work stuff, the mower the neighbor down the street was using. They grinned about the cashier at Hardee’s who Geoff said was still nursing a hangover from the previous night.

It was their usual kind of banter, but as they moved through the tasks of building the bench, Chris noticed the personal space boundary wasn’t nearly as routine. Geoff’s body brushed his several times and, when Chris leaned over the workbench to measure something, Geoff’s hand passed over his back and the curve of his flank before he moved on, leaving Chris with a distracted mind and a pencil mark a good inch off of where it needed to be.

When he caught Geoff’s grin, he scowled and redrew the mark. Geoff picked up the skill saw and Chris backed off to let him do the cut. He watched Geoff focus on what he was doing through the safety glasses, the sure and steady progression of the blade. They’d worked construction jobs in college together, and Geoff was as handy as Chris with the tools of the trade. “Shame you’re a lawyer,” Chris commented as Geoff set the saw aside. “You’d be a hell of a framer.”

“Yeah, because that pays so much better,” Geoff said dryly.

“If you’d become a framer, you wouldn’t have a butt load of school loans to pay off and you’d work way more flexible hours.” Chris sat on a stool and took a drink from the bottled water he’d brought out. At the time, Geoff had said he didn’t want one, but Chris still wiped the top and offered it. As he’d expected, Geoff took it, but after a single swallow, he set it aside.

Screwing his hand in the front of Chris’s shirt, he yanked him forward on the stool to put his mouth on his. Chris’s hands landed on his waist, digging in as Geoff’s tongue slid between Chris’s lips to tease and tangle. Geoff held him fast, hand wrapped around the back of his skull. He kept the kiss going until Chris’s head was swimming. Only then did he pull
back and hand Chris the bottle.

Chris managed to rally, despite the surge of blood to his groin. “Gross. Now I have your germs.”

“In a couple of different orifices,” Geoff confirmed. He stayed close, his hand sliding down Chris’s side and back, covering his buttock and taking a good handful of ass. “I’m thinking I’d like to test how sturdy the bench is. Hammer myself into you over it.”

“Yeah?” Chris had a mix of feelings about that. Some of it was inexplicable uneasiness, but his cock could care less. It jumped at the tone in Geoff’s voice and was ready to go for it now, now, and oh, by the way—now.

“Yeah. You’re wearing jeans today. An old pair. All faded, creased and with a bunch of tears and holes in them. Didn’t even think you still had that pair anymore. So used to you wearing your camos and painter pants to get dirty.”

“I dug them out of the back of the drawer. Need to do laundry.”

“Hmm.” Moving to the wall, Geoff hit the button that lowered the garage door. As the engine engaged and the door trundled down, shutting them away from the rest of the world, Chris felt suddenly like he was on a cliff ledge, hanging there by his fingernails.

“Think I’m just your fuck toy, whenever, however?”

“Nope. You’re a hell of a lot more than that.” When the door reached the concrete pad, sealing them in, Geoff didn’t bother to conceal the lust in his expression, and swept that look over Chris. “But it’s a definite side benefit. You’ve been looking at me all morning like you want to eat me, but I’m going to take the first bite.”

How did he do that? He made Chris feel naked with those searing hazel eyes, as if they’d already peeled off his clothes and the top layer of skin, exposing everything beneath. Was that a Dom thing? And what did it say about Chris, that it disturbed him as it did, giving him anxiety and a hard-on at once?

As if knowing Chris was teetering, Geoff took a seat on another stool, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “I’ve watched you build things before,” Geoff noted, “But not like this. Your mouth sets in a line when you’re concentrating. And you handle everything with such care. You connect to everything you do, whether it’s planting or washing dishes, or listening to me or Sam. You don’t do anything casually. You’re fully in the moment.”

His hazel eyes became more vivid, so the gold, green and brown reminded Chris of bright moss on a tree wearing golden fall colors. “It makes me think if I touch you, get inside you, I’ll be fully in that moment.”

Chris wet his lips and Geoff picked up the water bottle again, extending it with a half smile. Not mocking, just . . .
understanding. Chris’s fingers slipped off the ledge a little more. When he closed his hand on the bottle and took it, Geoff caught Chris’s belt loops, bringing him a step closer with inexorable pressure.

“Do you remember Larry Featherwood?” Geoff asked, taking the bottle and setting it aside when Chris was done. Chris wasn’t sure where to put his hands or how to stand, when he was standing between Geoff’s splayed knees.

“You can touch me, Chris,” Geoff said. “Just don’t go for my dick yet, because I want to get this out, and if you touch me like that, I won’t.”

He was used to Geoff being a master of clever words. Geoff didn’t lie, but he often wrapped the truth in clever striped and twisted packaging. Straight honesty put things on a different footing, but it also helped. No games. Chris slid his knuckle along Geoff’s chest, traveling between the pectorals, up to his throat, where there was a dusting of wood shavings. He rubbed them off with his thumb while Geoff’s multicolored eyes stayed on his face. “Yeah, I remember Larry.” He’d gone to the same middle school they had.

“You remember when he got in trouble for drinking at Megan Sower’s party? That Monday, he said he’d been grounded and his dad had taken a belt to him. You remember what you told me about that?”

“I said a lot of shit when I was thirteen.” Chris was watching his own hand as if it had a life of its own. It moved from Geoff’s throat to his shoulder, and then came to a stop as Geoff lifted his hand to wrap his fingers around Chris’s wrist, stilling him. Chris’s fingers curved into the T-shirt.

“You said you wished you had a dad who cared enough to take a belt to you. Because your mom is so great and made it work as a single parent, you felt guilty as hell right after you said it.”

Chris shifted. “Yeah. Kids can be dumb like that.”

Geoff shook his head. “No, I got it. And your mom would have gotten it.”

“Mom would have taken a belt to me herself if she hadn’t figured out worse punishments.” The one and only time Chris had lied to her, his conscience had tormented him until he admitted it to her. She’d thanked him for telling her the truth, but she’d told him there was nothing he could ever do that would disappoint her more than him lying to her.

“It not only disrespects me, it tells me you don’t trust me to care for you, to know what’s best for you.”
A thousand belt stripes wouldn’t have affected him the way that statement had. Nothing was worse than letting her down.

“Momma Bear is the best.”

Chris smiled. Geoff had always called his mom that, ever since Geoff had been pulled over for speeding—ninety in a
forty-five. Chris had been in the car with him. Geoff’s dad had basically brushed it off as teenage hijinks and told Geoff he’d get a lawyer to reduce the charges so he could keep his license. The next day, when Geoff came over to Chris’s house, he’d faced something entirely different. Chris had been on the sidelines, wide-eyed, while his mom had torn Geoff a new one. He’d tried to deflect her, give Geoff a break, and she was having none of it.

“See him?”
His mother had pointed at Chris while a teenage Geoff stood there white-faced.
“That is your very best friend in the whole world. Your brother, in every way that matters. My son. The center of my world. I don’t care what kind of
I’m immortal, riding on hormones
bullshit anyone else uses to excuse a teenager acting like this, it doesn’t fly with me. I know your heart, Geoff Tywin. You are smarter and better than this. You will take care of him and yourself, because if I ever lose either one of you to some act of teenage stupidity, I will dig up your bodies and kick the shit out of them in front of God and the whole world. I promise you that. And should you live through that act of stupidity and my son dies, you will
wish
you’d died and gone to hell rather than having to face me.”