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Guilt swamped her, taking her breath away. Knowing that he'd imagined things as she had, perhaps in just as much detail, was a hard thing to hear. She'd thought he was simply avoiding or preventing it for the same reasons as Geoff, and maybe that was true. But it didn't change the fact that her impatience had taken an opportunity away from him. She tried to push past that and think about why she'd done it. It hadn't just been hormones. She needed to grasp the potential of what was, rather than what should have been.
"It felt like it needed to be in bite-sized pieces," she said. "Do you know how this will impact your relationship with Geoff? Do you want a Dom, Chris?"
She hadn't been sure if Chris knew about that part of Geoff, but it wasn't a surprise to her to see the tightening of the mouth that told her he did. "Do you want to submit to him? Is this two straight guys wanting to share a girl, or two semistraight guys who are kind of interested in each other as well?"
She was curious about the answer to that herself, since she had her own theories. He looked away, not answering, and she rose, closing her hand over his where it gripped the wooden handle. "See? The one thing I figured you both understood was how you feel about me. Girl parts and stuff, those things are good. Right?"
His lips tugged at the corners, and she stroked his fingers. "I don't know if you have the same . . . urges toward me that Geoff does, or if you're a different animal, but I know you want me. Or you did."
When he shifted his hand out of reach and didn't respond to that, still not looking at her, she did her best to mask another sharp pain. She'd thought long and hard about what Geoff had said, about following her heart on this. The way he'd said it, that look he'd given her, had pinged something inside her. It was like her submissive side had an under layer she could only access by feeling, not thinking. So though she couldn't put into words what he'd meant, she felt his intent. And decided to act on it.
"Do you know what Geoff asked me? Whether it would turn me on, you punishing me while he watched. Spanking me . . . Well, he said you might cut a switch in the yard . . ."
"I'm not like that. That's not my thing." He said it so brusquely, she swallowed her words midsentence. Wrong tactic, and he'd shut her down sharply enough she wasn't sure where else to go with it. Geoff was right. Maybe she needed to leave this alone.
"Okay. Well, I'll go inside and change into some work clothes so I can help you with this."
"I don't want your help right now, Sam." He tossed the edger aside and picked up the shovel. As he straightened, he pushed several unruly locks of brown hair out of his eyes. "I get it, all right? You feel bad and you want to make me feel better about things so you don't have to feel so bad about it."
She set her jaw. "Maybe I'm sorry and want to make you feel better because you're my friend."
"Friend? Yeah. Great."
Damn it, she was going to take the shovel and brain him with it. Instead she stepped closer. "Don't back away from me," she said ominously as he looked like he was going to shrug her off. She put her hands at his waist, her fingers curling in the fabric belt of the camos, knuckles pressed against the impressive muscle groups at his abdomen and hips. He stood rigid as she looked up at him.
"I get it," she said quietly. "We should have waited. But I didn't want to wait anymore, Chris. Whether or not you want to hear it, I felt like I had to get Geoff on board first, because he's . . . what he is. You may be that, or something else I don't yet understand, but we both know what he is, right?"
Chris lifted an irritated shoulder, and she reached up to his face. He clasped her wrist, stopping her. "I don't want this right now," he said, though his grip and the look in her eye told her otherwise. "Just . . . I don't want to be harsh, Sam, but I really need you to leave me the hell alone. Okay? You can't fix this."
She tried to push the ache in her throat back, to stop it from happening, but damn if tears didn't well up. She should turn around, march back into the house, but a promise was a promise. "I told Geoff I would do this if . . . I just told him I'd do it."
Taking a breath, she turned away from him. Since where Geoff had written between her shoulder blades necessitated taking her T-shirt off to reveal it, she did. She hadn't worn a bra, because she didn't know if it would obscure what he wrote. The aviary screened her from the neighboring house she faced, and they had woods behind them, their house on her right. Even so, she heard Chris mutter a "Jeez, Sam . . ." but then he fell silent.
She stood there for interminable minutes, waiting. She watched the birds in the aviary, felt the sun on her shoulders, the light flirt of the wind that tightened her nipples and skittered across her skin. If Chris told her to go away once more, she would bolt. She could only handle so much rejection at once. Maybe that was what Geoff had meant about her not trying to fix things. Probably exactly what he'd meant.
Geoff really had looked like he was a breath away from taking her decision to stay at the house out of her hands, by physical intimidation if necessary. Ninety percent of the time, Geoff and Chris were as enlightened about women as she could wish, but when their protective instincts were goaded, they reverted to the behavior of men two or three centuries ago. Honorable men, but it could frustrate her, as it would any woman with a brain. On the flip side, sometimes that aspect of their personalities made emotions and needs well up in her she couldn't explain. She wanted to be as protective of them as they were of her.
She should leave Chris alone, but she couldn't. He was hurting, and she couldn't be okay with that. Not for another minute.
She quivered as his fingers whispered over her bare shoulder, then slid down. It felt like he was tracing the words. "What does it say?"
"None of your business."
Coming from Chris, it was an unexpected response, but his tone was mild, his touch a quest, exploring her as much as outlining what Geoff had written on her. She closed her eyes to better absorb the sensation. Up and down, in looping circles between her shoulder blades, then down along her spine to her jeans, finger sliding along her waistband. Back up again. Her nipples now had another reason for tightening, because the more he touched her, the more she wanted to be touched by him.
"Don't talk, Sam. Close your eyes."
She already had them closed, but she'd parted her lips to say something, she wasn't sure what. Since
her back was to him, she wasn't sure how he'd known she was about to speak, unless her shoulders lifted from the preparatory breath. If so, it proved how closely he was studying every inch of her, which overwhelmed her enough to keep her silent even without the command. A tremor ran through the fingers she curled uncertainly at her sides.
He turned her around to face him. His body was wide enough to block the neighbors' view. He'd make sure of it. She trusted him to do that. Thinking of what Geoff had said about how he felt when he looked at her fully naked, how it would be the same for Chris, she wished she weren't wearing her jeans and sneakers. She wanted to stand before Chris that way again.
His hair brushed her brow, and she realized he'd leaned in toward her. His lips, warm and firm, came against hers, and she sighed in delight at the unexpected contact. He slid his big hands along her bare waist, drawing her in until she was pressed against him and he was tasting her, tracing her lips, touching her tongue with his. When she emitted a needy little moan, her fists now tight balls to keep her from climbing up and into him for more, he broke. Crushing her against him, he delved deep into her mouth, his other hand coming up to twist in her hair, hold her fast as he gave her his anger and frustration, his lust and even deeper emotions, the most important ones. Her hands opened, slid up to his shoulders and clung. She couldn't imagine comparing Chris and Geoff's kisses and rating one over the other. It was the mountain and the lightning, both bringing something incomparable to the mix.
Her breasts were pressed against his chest, against the rough layer of hair there, the damp sweat and dirt, but she didn't care about those. It was Chris. She melted into him, held up by the strength of his arms, overwhelmed by the harsh male need in the kiss. When he finally broke it, her heart was pounding crazily, whirling butterflies in her stomach.
"He had me thinking about it. Or you did." As he lifted his head, his accusing look had a glimmer of raw humor in it. It eased some of her tension.
