"It's in the purple bag," he told Chris. Chris picked it up and shook out the contents, a mix of latex, straps and metal. As he separated the two items and spread them out, Sam felt a little leap in her chest.
"No way," Chris said emphatically.
It was a pair of latex pants and an upper-body harness. When she touched the thin material of the pants, she could tell they were intended to fit Chris like a second skin. She thought of the fabric pasting itself to the muscular curves of his ass, clinging to the weight of his testicles and cock, which would be nice and erect. The straps would delineate every roll of biceps and pecs, like those of a barbarian warrior.
"A suitable look for a dove's guardian, I
thought," Geoff said, unperturbed by Chris's abject refusal. "Sam, what do you think?"
"If he wears it, I won't be able to stop looking at him. Just thinking about him in it makes me want him a hundred different ways."
Chris blinked as a slow smile crossed Geoff's face. "Our dove is at her most irresistible when she's unfiltered. And honest."
That last word hit Sam in a way that made her eyes slide away from Geoff's again. She could feel him marking her avoidance like a brand on her cheek.
Chris grimaced. "Yeah. And you knew I couldn't say no if she wanted me to wear it."
Sam put a hand on his arm. "Don't worry. I bet there will be plenty of people dressing up. I'll call Madison and make sure. But if you feel embarrassed, you don't have to do it. Really."
Chris's expression grew troubled. "Sam, I can't say no to anything you want. Do you get that, what it means?"
She bit her lip, uncertain of how to reply. Geoff stepped in to answer for her. "Yes, she does. Without a doubt. But she's forgotten that with that power comes a pretty serious responsibility."
Sam's brow creased. "I just said he didn't--"
"Not that. Look at me, Sam." When she complied, reluctantly, Geoff spoke in an even tone. "You wore this outfit, thinking you could make me override the rules I set about these next couple of days, which were intended to give all of us time to consider what we're doing here. It was a direct challenge. You crave submission, but you're trying to push us around." He shifted his glance to Chris. "Which means she's being a brat."
"I wasn't trying to act that way," she protested.
"It was disrespectful." Geoff shot her an ominous look she wasn't sure how to interpret. She usually noticed the playful beneath the facade, but he didn't look playful at all. "If all you want is a little slap and tickle, fun in the bedroom, that's a whole different ball of wax from what we did this weekend. Is that what you're wanting?"
He took a step forward. She suppressed an irrational desire to scoot backward on her knees. So far, she'd experienced flashes of the pure, undiluted version of the type of Dom Geoff could be, enough to know his particular blend of domination and sadism called to the kind of submissive she was. However, the manner in which she was starting to tremble now, with a mix of anticipation and anxious fear that coiled into a tight ball of sexual and emotional need, told her just how good a match it was.
She could stand up, tell him to piss off. If she did only want the slap and tickle he'd just described, that's exactly what she would have done. Instead she held her spot on her knees, tilting her head as he took another step toward her. She could almost hear the click as the give-and-take sharpened, coming into better focus for both of them.
"No, I don't think so." She was barely whispering.
"You don't think so. You're not sure, because instead of thinking about what's really happening here, you've been fucking with our heads."
"Geoff," Chris said, low.
"It's okay, Chris," her Master said. "Trust me."
She noticed his tone changed when he talked to Chris. Still in control, but more peer to peer, asking Chris to trust his lead based on the friendship they shared. Chris said nothing further, though she could feel his tension and uncertainty, a different form of her own. A muscle flexed in Geoff's jaw, but his hazel eyes never left hers.
"There's nothing we take more seriously than your well-being, Sam. That requires your respect. As Chris said, there's nothing we won't do for you, and when you give us conflicting desires and push it, that's moving right into brat territory."
Her gaze darted to Chris. In a blink, Geoff closed the distance between them and jerked her face back up to look at him. "Looking over at him to see if he can protect you, because he has the softer heart or is less experienced in dealing with a submissive like you, is not the way to go. Unless you want the punishment to be worse."
"No sir," she stammered. As his expression hardened, she amended that. "No, Master."
Just like that, things started to level out. That itchy-in-her-own-skin feeling receded, her heart emerging from the confusing thicket of emotions with its sharp barbs. Geoff took such uncertainty away when he took full command. Had that been the problem all along? This weekend had opened a whole tangle of things for her and, as soon as things returned to a normal routine, she'd been floundering. Had putting on the outfit, teasing them like this, been like a call for help, not wanting to have to exercise her own self-control? She wasn't that kind of person. Yet she wanted to be sure Chris and Geoff would hold the reins when she needed leveling out. Was that wrong? Inexplicably, tears stabbed at her eyes. Why couldn't she figure this out for herself?
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'd never treat you guys like that. Not . . . if I'd been thinking."
Geoff still held her chin, making her look at him. While she was flushed, under that she felt pale, shaky. He was waiting, quiet now, just watching her. When he lifted the hand at his side, a small twitch, she expected it was a signal for patience to Chris, and his quiet words toward the other man confirmed it.
"She's different from you, Chris," he said, a cryptic warning. "She needs a stronger hand. Wants a stronger hand."