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His look of male satisfaction amused her. "I read a lot of letters to Penthouse. They're far more educational than you'd expect. And Men's Health always has great sex tips."
She chuckled and closed her eyes, pressing her face to his. "Oh God. Geoff." She held him so tight, and received the same gift in return as he banded both arms around her, pressing a kiss to her throat, her shoulder. Threading her fingers through his dark blond hair, she caressed the nape of his neck, finding the strength to run her foot along the back of his thigh, cross her legs over his hips and squeeze them over his gorgeous naked ass.
"You didn't say it. Please promise me. Promise me you won't back away from this again. Please."
"I won't. I promise. Shh. It's all right. I'm here."
How did he know the glorious moment of delight was mixed with a weird kind of downward swoop, where she desperately needed his comfort and strength to be sure everything was okay? She'd worked toward this goal, and she'd definitely, finally, gotten them past the starting gate and on their way down the track. But that meant the race would now have a life of its own, beyond her control if a crash was imminent. Yet if Geoff told her it would be okay, that he and Chris would be right there with her, all the way, she'd know it was okay.
Opening her eyes, she realized her thought about shattering into starlight wasn't entirely random. Over his shoulders, she could see the glow-in-the-dark stars, constellations and planets she and Chris had stuck to Geoff's ceiling as a prank. He hadn't noticed them right away, since he often worked at the dining room table so late that, when he came to bed, he fell face forward into the pillows and was out like a light. A week later, when she'd been getting ready for work, she'd heard him snort with laughter. "All right," he'd called out. "Who put this shit on my ceiling? What's next, a Star Trek bed?"
But he hadn't removed them. She'd recently found some Star Trek sheets on sale and tucked them away, her and Chris conspiring to put them on Geoff's bed for his birthday. She'd also found a stencil of the various phrases the Star Trek captains used to order the ship in motion and intended to paint those on the wall while he was at work that day. She'd put them in a whimsical arc: Make it so, Engage and Chris's favorite--given that it would be over Geoff's bed--Punch it.
"Once those are up, he sure as hell won't be bringing any girls back to our place," Chris had observed. "Not that he ever has."
It was a joke, but when she thought of it now, her fingertips slid over Geoff's shoulder, down to his biceps. "So . . . do you have to use the condom?"
Geoff lifted his head. As if suddenly realizing he was still fully on top of her and might be getting heavy, he shifted, pulling out with a regretful look she appreciated, given that her own body protested the loss of connection. Stripping off the condom, he dumped it in the trash can by the nightstand, then he turned on his side next to her and gathered her close. As she pillowed her head on his biceps, she wasn't sure if he'd answer or make her repeat herself, but he touched her face, running his fingertips along her cheek and jaw.
"You're the one who has to answer that," he said. "While Chris believes my insistence on keeping the kitchen so clean is evidence of an overabundance of estrogen, I'm fairly sure you're the only one in the house who can get pregnant."
She smiled. She was making little whorls in his chest hair with one tentative fingertip. When he didn't object to her touching him, she started threading through the light mat of gleaming strands. She pressed her palm over his pectoral, feeling the steady heartbeat beneath his firm flesh. "He had to revise that idea when he saw what a slob I was."
"You are not a slob. You're a clutter bug, as my mother used to say. You collect things and refuse to give them away. And you forget to pick up after yourself. The day I tripped over your heels in the living room was the first time I gave serious thought to spanking you."
He squeezed her buttock hard enough that she realized--with a tiny thrill--he intended it to be uncomfortable. She saw him watching her carefully to gauge her reaction to it. Wondering whether it was too much, just enough, or if she wanted more.
Just call her Oliver. More, sir. Please, I want some more.
"I take birth control," she said. While she was open about most things with them, she believed in certain courtesies. Like not leaving her feminine products or birth control compact out with her deodorant and toothbrush. Either in reaction or because they were naturally that way, Chris and Geoff were equally courteous about such things. She'd never seen a condom packet left on a dresser, or a pair of dirty underwear on the floor. "But there are other reasons . . . for protection."
"You're fishing," he said mildly. She didn't deny it. She also kept her eyes on his chest, following her hand down as she traced his hair to where it narrowed into a tight arrow that cut between his abdominal muscles. His cock was at rest on his thigh, a very different animal from the turgid shaft that had her tissues still vibrating with gratifying soreness. But she had a feeling it could rouse to that thickness and length again in no time. She needed the answer to her question.
"I don't have to wear it," he said at last. "The last time I . . . Christ, it's bad when you can't remember the last time . . . ah. Okay. Yeah. Then."
"When?" she asked, with just enough demand to earn an amused glance.
"It was a weak moment with an attorney visiting from our New York office. She needed to let off some steam, and so did I. I don't do unprotected sex anyway, but that was also well before my last physical."
Tally Winters. She knew it had to be. She'd hoped Tally had been his last lover, and hearing it was reassured her, even if it still didn't feel great. She reminded herself it was months ago. To a twentysomething single male, that probably seemed a lifetime ago. Whereas she hadn't had sex with anyone since Anthony. And what about Chris? He'd dated a nurse a couple of times. How long ago had that been? About a year, she realized. But he might have had a hookup here or there that she didn't know about.
"Hey." Geoff tapped her forehead. "Come back out of there. You've got the frowny face happening."
"Do not." But her lips quivered as he deliberately traced their downward curve.
"How long have you thought of the three of us as together?" His shrewd eyes drew the answer from her silence. "Yeah. So it feels crappy to you, to think any one of us might have been doing something, or someone, since that time."
"Chris could be doing someone right now, down in the Gulf. Some FEMA worker or Red Cross nurse."
"No, he couldn't. Sam, whatever's gone on before, when you took us to Naughty Bits that
day, you were sending us a pretty clear message. Neither one of us would act on anything outside of this relationship until we had time to address that, see if we wanted to take it deeper together." His gaze swept their two naked bodies. "I'm thinking you pretty much got a resounding yes out of me. I'm not seeing Chris giving you a different answer, though only Chris can answer for Chris."
All reminders that this was just the beginning, and sex could make things seem so easy. He pushed her hair away from her face. "Stop it," he said sternly. "Don't do that overthinking thing you do, or I swear to God, I will start all over again."
She grinned at that; she couldn't help it. "Promise? Like right now?"
"Like right after I have a nap," he grumbled, adjusting the blanket over her as she shivered. He rolled away from her, stretching in an intriguing way toward the floor and coming back with his underwear. At her disappointed look, he shook his head.
