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From the beginning, they'd agreed that everyone would pay their fair share of everything. She'd insisted, already feeling the two men were doing more than their part, giving her a safe place to live. When they'd come to Charlotte, her resolve to enforce that policy was even more emphatic, because having to find a place with private spaces for three single adults meant they had to have a three-bedroom place instead of two, a considerable jump in rent rates.
Chris had chivalrously told her he was the one who'd tipped up the rent, because he'd wanted a rental house with a yard. Geoff had suggested in that case they could have bought a big doghouse and a hammock for Chris and stayed with a two-bedroom.
Birthdays and Christmas gifts had a set budget. Over time, as her salary increased and Geoff paid off more of his loans, she knew they could splurge on bigger gifts, but she liked keeping it within a range. The ceiling on what they could spend meant creativity, not ostentation, drove the purchase decisions.
This wasn't Christmas or a birthday. It was a special occasion, for certain, but she didn't know if she wanted to view it that way, because that might mean treating it like a holiday, here then gone for another year. But as she parted her lips to speak, Chris closed his hand over hers. "I'm buying it. No arguments, Sam. This doesn't fall under the budget stuff."
It was a prime example of what she'd been trying to puzzle out in her mind earlier, how to explain what each man did and how he did it to incite this sudden stillness in her. A stillness that focused all her attention on him, on what he wanted or needed. It was as if there was a crackling energy between her and the man speaking that held her entranced, made her feel wild and reckless and docile and quiet, all at the same time.
"Okay," she said, and realized her voice had cracked. She cleared her throat, but they weren't done pushing her off balance. Geoff took her other hand.
"What did you mean, Sam? About the name of the company being appropriate?"
This was why she shouldn't say the first thing that popped in her head. She didn't usually, not around anyone else other than these two. Color rose in her cheeks. "Um . . . it didn't mean . . . I wasn't thinking. It was silly. Nothing."
"She's such an awful liar," Chris observed.
"The worst," Geoff agreed. "Spit it out. You're only going to be more embarrassed if you wait until Madison comes back and you have to say it in front of her."
"You wouldn't . . ." She trailed off at his arched brow and piercing look. He surely would. He'd enjoyed her initial discomfiture when he'd brought the vibrator into the bathroom. She'd responded enough to that that she knew certain types of erotic humiliation pushed some of her own buttons. Proof of how much she'd be willing to submit to him, given time and trust. Scary but titillating.
"Because My Sweet Pussy . . . well, I'm yours. Both of yours. Including that part of me." She was going to turn scarlet and match the lace-trimmed teddy she saw hanging on a rack behind them.
Geoff leaned in, brushed his lips across her cheek and spoke against it. "So you're telling us your cunt belongs to us both. No one else? Not John Howard, or Mark in Records?"
Chris's nostrils flared, his eyes getting a caveman glint in them that should dismay her, not thrill her like she'd been handed a lit sparkler at a July Fourth celebration. "Who the hell is Mark in Records?"
"No one. And yes," she said hastily. "To no one else."
Geoff had implied part of today's outing was going to be about pulling back, talking things out. Maybe they shouldn't have scheduled a stop at Naughty Bits first, because Sam was having a hard time imagining that she could settle down and have a rational conversation after they'd stirred her up like this.
Geoff traced his finger along the collar, then tugged on it again, harder this time, so he pulled her a step toward him, just as she'd imagined. She put her hand out for balance and Chris captured it, so they were holding her between them. Geoff's eyes became a deeper, richer green and gold. Though he did it reluctantly, he removed the collar, putting it back on the counter for Madison to replace when she returned from her current task, which appeared to be straightening one of the toy displays. He kept one hand on the juncture between Sam's shoulder and neck, though, running his thumb between her collarbone and throat, pressing against the gentle beat there.
"Chris saw some things he liked in the lingerie section," he said. "Would you like to see?"
"Yes." Her voice sounded breathy.
As Chris drew her toward the wall, they had to pass the rounders of role playing costumes. When Geoff fingered one that looked like a harem girl outfit, Sam slanted a smile his way. "Did you have a favorite teenage fantasy?"
"Scarlett O'Hara. And pretty much any of the old movies where the heroine got spanked. There were a lot."
"His mom got him hooked on movies pre-1960s," Chris said, with a smile. "I went for the Sports Illustrated bikini issue and Victoria's Secret catalog choices. The Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders. Never has been a better cheerleader outfit than that one. Oh, and Trinity in The Matrix. That latex she wore, her double firearm skills . . ."
"In short, you wouldn't have wanted to put a black light in his bedroom as a teenager."
"I think you could say that about any teenage boy." She gave Geoff a quizzical look. "Rhett never spanked Scarlett."
"No, but he really wanted to. I kept hoping he would. Might have solved a lot of issues for them."
As she was chuckling, Chris drew her to a wall display and showed her a bra-and-panty set of sheer black lace with tiny blue forget-me-not flowers at the joining point of the straps. The panties were low-rise and also sheer black.
Geoff shifted behind her, putting both hands on her shoulders, continuing his caresses. With the weight of his hands taking its place, the collar felt like it was still there.
"I like this, too." Chris pointed to a silver-colored bra where the cups had only a two-inch-wide satin cup above the underwiring, the garment intended to lift the breasts but not cover the nipples. The matching underwear was merely a latex waistband with lace strips dangling from the sides. The strips tied around the thighs, forming the "legs" of the panties, if they could be called that. A fringe of beads ran along the band, longer in the front and sculpted so they fell in a point that would stop above the bare sex. The tag showed a sexy blond model wearing it. The outfit would make every inch of her accessible to a lover, without having to remove a bit of the provocative outfit.
"Geoff?" Chris cocked his head.
"Can't wait to fuck her wearing that," Geoff observed, hands sliding around her waist, holding her against him. "I'll bet when she walks in it the beads tease her clit. I like that silver-gray corset and thong over there as well." He bent, kissed her throat. "Chris would like lacing you in a corset, Sam. Cinch you up tight
