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Geoff stretched out farther to lean in and press his lips to the back of Chris's shoulder, which won him a bemused look from his friend. Remembering then that Grant had said they could touch the brand more freely the next day, she moved to look at it, run her fingers over the bird and the G branded into Chris's skin.
"I really like this," she said, tipping Chris's head back and adjusting so he could lay it in her lap.
He grunted, a pleased noise. Her gaze wandered over to notice how Geoff's brief shorts defined his genitals much more prominently than Chris's looser shorts, and Geoff was still in an early morning rigid state. Her fingers itched to touch him as well, but she found she was still shy about reaching for him without asking permission. It was Chris who saw her looking, gripped her hand and drew it over to press her palm against Geoff's groin. The two men watched her, Chris's eyes heavy-lidded with interest, Geoff's like a hawk's, making her think he'd probably punish her later for not asking, but he obviously had other plans first.
The next thing she knew they had her on her side, Geoff licking strawberry jelly off her nipples and Chris pushing into her cunt from behind, cupping her breasts, thrusting and retreating until he reached a powerful, shuddering morning climax. Then his arms slid around her waist and across her chest, holding her fast as Geoff took her next, bringing her and him both to release.
"Do you think it's possible for people to fuck each other to death?" she asked after another short postcoital doze.
"As long as you keep bringing us food and water, we should be okay." Geoff chuckled in a logy voice. They lay there in a tangle of limbs, the fragrances of coffee, vegetable omelets and fresh fruit competing with the lingering scents of sex and need. "But I have an idea. Let's go lie out in the hammock together and watch the sun come up. We can bring coffee."
"Your theory being, if we're outside where the neighbors might see us, we might exercise some restraint?"
"Something like that." Chris winked at her. "Or we'll give them an eyeful and make them start their morning the same way we just did."
"I'm not sure. Mr. and Mrs. Roberts look like they haven't had sex since the seventies."
"They're probably having tons of wild jungle monkey sex behind closed doors," Geoff disagreed.
"People always say that, but when you see monkeys have sex on documentaries, it's actually pretty tame." Sam made a quick motion with her hands. "In, out, done."
"That's because they have cameras on them," Chris said. "If we ever go to a jungle on vacation, we'll see firsthand, real, live, undocumented monkey sex. It will freaking blow your mind."
Sam was giggling as they pulled her out of bed. She bent over to retrieve Chris's shirt and yelped as Geoff gave her bare ass, lifted pertly in the air, a smart strike.
"For not asking," he told her, though he tempered the stern look with a wink. "Plus your bare butt is too much of a temptation."
She made a face at him, rubbing the stinging spot, but he came around the bed, pulling on his sweatpants before he bent and kissed her offended area. "There. All better. Put some panties on under that T-shirt, you shameless girl."
She was very pleased Chris and Geoff went out into the yard as is, Chris in his flannel shorts and Geoff in the sweatpants, both bare-chested and with tousled hair, her handsome, sleepy men.
Chris immediately sprawled in the hammock and tumbled her down in it with him, so she could nestle in his arms, her cheek on his furry chest. Geoff took a seat in a patio chair he pulled over, stretching his legs out over Chris's and bracing them against Chris's calf, bare toes curling against his friend's flesh. They sat that way quietly for a while, Geoff moving them in a slow rock as he sipped coffee.
If pressed to do so later, Sam wouldn't have remembered most of the specifics they talked about, but the men's words were sun-jeweled raindrops to her, absorbing through her skin. Geoff's smooth timbre, Chris's deeper, rougher voice, her own like a light music weaving in among their comments. Random discussion about types of coffee, possible future trips, things they'd seen last night, the fairy garden Chris had made her. Nothing earth-shattering, but that was what made it so memorable and treasured. The men she loved, who loved her and each other, chatting and comfortable with one another and the life they were building together.
She had no illusions; there would be less-pleasant days. But they'd started out as friends and had been roommates for long enough to weather days when one or more of them wasn't in the best mood, where they lashed out about work crap, home crap. They'd locked horns on different things before, and would again.
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She'd treasure all of it. Just as she treasured the casual way Chris was stroking her hair, occasionally pressing his lips to it. How she could tangle her fingers with his at her waist and caress his palm, his wrist, because he was hers. Geoff's foot, curled against Chris's calf, occasionally straightened, toes giving Chris's flesh a quick reminder of intimate contact. The way his gaze rested on Sam, she could see all sorts of titillating thoughts running through her Master's mind. Things he'd want to do, to explore, with both of them.
Glancing at Chris, she realized the worries she'd had about how he'd resolve the Dominance and submission issues for himself were exactly as Geoff had predicted. She didn't need to fully understand any of it. The only important thing was that, however it was resolving itself, it seemed to be working for the three of them.
When Geoff offered to get up and go refill Chris's coffee with his own, Sam lifted her head. "Can you bring Chris's pocketknife back out? He keeps it . . ."
"In the front right pocket of his pants," Geoff finished. "He always has."
As he disappeared into the house, she tilted her head up to Chris and smiled against his mouth as he kissed her. Chris was a toucher, a kisser, and she loved it. Loved how he did it so frequently, easily and naturally, the way he did so many things.
"Why do you want my pocketknife? I know Geoff is annoying, but there's no need to resort to stabbing."
She grinned but reached up and touched his face. "I love you."
His brown eyes warmed with a wealth of emotions. "I love you, Sam. We both do."
"I can speak for myself," Geoff said, returning, though there was humor, not reproof, in his tone. "I find her mildly tolerable. You far less so."
"Well, I'd say fuck you, but my dick is tired. Though not for long," Chris promised, nudging her.
