He saw the moment it clicked. Geoff's spine straightened, and the energy that came off of him was the same kind he'd had when he'd stood in Chris's door the first time. It made things do a nice somersault in Chris's belly. But Geoff gave a self-deprecating chuckle and shook his head. "Christ, I'm an idiot. A fucked-up idiot."
"No, you're not," Chris said, sobering. "You're a guy who was fucked over by his blood family. And I'm a guy who doesn't believe in promising you more than I can give, so I got wrapped up in that other stuff you might want from me and didn't think of how it would sound to you."
"I shouldn't have been that sensitive."
"Yeah, but I already know you're a pussy."
Geoff shot him the bird and Chris grinned. Geoff took another step closer. "My mother used to have a saying. It doesn't really mean shit when you apply it to the decisions she's made in her life, but wisdom out of the mouth of a fool is still wisdom. It's just harder to believe."
"What did she say?"
"It's hardly original. 'In the end, all that matters is kindness.'" Geoff's gaze darkened. "Yeah, I want to torment the two of you, make you beg for things, leave marks on your skin. And I want to kiss all those marks, take care of you and keep you safe from everything always. But even though that's only the tip of the iceberg, it doesn't have to be all or nothing. All I really want to know is that your hearts belong to me."
Chris swallowed, hard, and Geoff nodded at his expression. "You asked if you were in the group of people I'd trust to . . ." He lifted a shoulder, and the poignancy of it twisted in Chris's chest, Geoff's inability to say top me.
Geoff cleared his throat, the TV light flickering over his face. "You are. And since the membership of that group is exactly one person, if you weren't part of it, the group wouldn't exist."
Chris stared at him. "Come here."
Geoff shifted. "Giving me orders?"
"Just shut up and come closer."
Geoff sauntered across the room. Since he wore only the pajama bottoms, the sensual movement couldn't help but draw the eye to every fine inch of bare flesh. But that wasn't Chris's top priority. Chris reached up, curling his fingers around Geoff's neck, his thumb rubbing the line of collarbone. "Come here," he repeated in a murmur.
Geoff bent. When he brought his mouth over Chris's, this time Chris felt the rightness of it on both sides. He'd never really thought of himself as gay or straight. He was just who he was, with a heart that often felt too big for his chest, because it would hurt when he saw things that didn't strike him as right. Or things that were perfectly right. Like Sam out in the sunlight, laughing, her hair touched by the heat. Geoff, sitting back on the couch at the end of a long day, one foot propped on the coffee table, a Corona with lime in hand as he and Chris talked about everything and nothing.
Geoff kept the kiss light, yet there was a lingering feel to it that made Chris want to pull him down with him, keep him there. Maybe if he were on the mattress instead of in the hammock, he would have had half a chance of getting him to join him. But Geoff drew back, though he stayed close enough Chris could see the faint quirk on his serious mouth.
"Since you look a breath away from trying to drag me into this hammock for cuddling, I'm headed back to my room before we both embarrass ourselves."
"You're only retreating because you know you love a good cuddle," Chris teased him, but his grip tightened.
"You wore me out. You have a mouth like a damn siphon." Geoff ducked free, giving the hammock a push to send it rocking. He followed it up with a quick stroke of his fingertips along Chris's face, though. "Let's leave it here for tonight. Okay?"
"You all right?"
"Yeah. Just need to think."
"Yeah." Though Chris wished Geoff didn't have to think about it at all, that he could just let it happen. But Geoff was pretty good at seeing the potholes Chris or Sam might miss and planning a route around them. He had to trust in that. "Okay."
Giving him a steady look, Geoff moved back toward the door.
"I see what you mean about that rear view thing," Chris added. "Might have been better without the pajama bottoms, though."
Geoff snorted. "Stop staring at my ass."
"Yes sir." Chris offered a one-bird salute again, intending the words as a mocking tease, but when Geoff's gaze turned back to him, Chris got that odd feeling in his chest again. His smile died away under Geoff's intent regard.
"Good night, Chris."
As Geoff's door shut, Chris moved with the boat-on-the-ocean movement of his hammock, keeping it going. He lifted his hand over his head, tangled his fingers in the rope and sighed. A smile, albeit a tired and wistful one, crossed his features. He understood what Geoff was saying. Time to go to sleep and see what would happen tomorrow.
*
Geoff had been serious about working on that project for Sam. After a Hardee's breakfast that he picked up on his morning run, they set up in the garage, leaving the door up since the day was sunny with lots of blue sky. Chris reflected that it made the darker parts of what had happened last night feel better, and the over-the-top moments feel all the more intense in recollection.
When Geoff had bought the Build-It-Yourself Bondage book at Naughty Bits, the item that he and Chris decided they wanted to build was a modified spanking bench. Chris had picked up a long cushion from a weight bench at a secondhand store, and the lumber and hardware they'd ordered had arrived, stacked in Chris's garden shed so Sam wouldn't notice it. Since they were both proficient carpenters, they had all they needed to work on it while Sam was on her trip.
"The plans recommend the medium measurements if the piece is for a woman." Geoff examined the drawing that looked a lot like a picnic bench, though the seat portions were closer to the table part, and the whole thing was shorter, four feet. "If she's lying on her stomach on the bench portion, these parallel places where she places her bent knees will support her shins."
"Yeah, but it doesn't indicate any kind of finishing for the ends, like a rubber foot or cushion."
Geoff consulted an attachment. "It does mention it, but leaves it open in the plans. One person folded gel shoe inserts over the corners. Comfortable, but I doubt it's attractive. I'm thinking a smooth plastic fitting, a shoe."
Chris studied the diagram shoulder to shoulder with him. Neither of them had done more than a quick washup and toothbrushing this morning, so Chris still felt some of the effects of Geoff's taking him last night. Whereas the slightly sweaty smell on Geoff's skin from his morning run, a familiar pleasure, made Chris think about how his friend's dick would still have the scent of his release on it, since Chris had let Geoff's semen spill over the shaft as he was sucking him off.
They were guys; they couldn't help thinking about sex all the time. It didn't mean he had to act on it. But maybe all that waiting he'd told Geoff he'd done had him short on patience now. He'd touched Geoff, tasted him . . . and he wanted more.
He cleared his throat. "We should add the ergonomic modification for people with bad necks. She has that problem with her shoulder."
"We'll need to add a restraint piece. Hey, what about this?" Geoff put the drawing down on the workbench and sketched on it. "This protects her neck. The immobilization adds to the psychological impact, but it would also keep her from jerking it out of whack. Plus, in this vertical mode, she'll be in the perfect position to take a cock right between her pretty lips while the other one of us is fucking her."
It was so easy for Geoff to say these things, so straightforward. When he turned his head, meeting Chris's gaze, they were close enough that Chris's attention was on his mouth--he couldn't help it. The faint scent of coffee and mint toothpaste was on Geoff's breath. "Think we can get it done before she gets back?"
"Should. The wood's already finished, but we can add a coat of stain to make it pretty and sealer to keep it from giving her splinters. The rest is cutting and assembly."
Chris passed his hand over the bench portion they'd already put together, pressing down on the cu
shion. The plans called for straps over the ankles, backs of the knees, thighs, waist, shoulders and nape. When they did all that, she'd be helpless. He imagined her pale, quivering body there, her eyes full of the dazed arousal that happened when Geoff pressed that submissive trigger inside her. Her lips would part as he fed his cock between them. Then Geoff's gaze would meet Chris's, an unspoken order and encouragement to Chris to grip her delicate buttocks and ease into her pussy. He imagined her moaning over Geoff's steel flesh.
"So you think she'll like this," he said slowly. "Really like it. It's not more for us than her?"
"It's for all of us. That's the way it works. We let her desires lead, and figure out how ours fit with them, and the result is a hell of a good time for all of us."
"Yeah." A good time.
With a searching look, Geoff set the plans aside and shifted a hip onto the bench, picking up his coffee. "How about we take a seat for a minute?" He pointed to the stool across from him.
Chris's look was quizzical, but he straddled the stool, picking up his own coffee. Geoff swiped at the dark blond hair over his brow, something he did when he was considering how to say something. He didn't take long.
"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."