His gaze coursed over her with hot appreciation but also as if he was indulging his right to see every inch of her, inside and out. He'd let her play with him in the kitchen, but she had a feeling here in his lair, so to speak, he wasn't going to be so indulgent. Even the one-word query
he'd just issued had the ring of command.
"You know, you and Chris sharing me but not being together with one another."
"A lot of women would love that fantasy. Being the center of two men's attention all the time." His hazel eyes gleamed again. "Worried we'll wear you out?"
Not worried. Certain of it, and hoping to be nothing more than liquefied bone and muscle when you're all done. She kept that to herself, though. She was having a hard enough time staying focused.
"It's a nice fantasy. But I like the idea of it being about the three of us, giving and taking in all different directions. I think it will last longer that way."
His brow creased, and he stretched out next to her on his hip. Pushing her hair away from her cheek, he curled a lock around his finger. "That sounds like you think it will end, Samantha Beth."
"No. Yes. Hoping it won't, but knowing how these things can happen. I just want . . . as long as it lasts, to be as much as it can be. You know?"
Geoff considered that. "Chris doesn't think I listen to his Zen philosophy," he said. "That living-in-the-moment BS, but actually I do."
He lifted his head as Chris came in bearing half a dozen bottles of cold water in an ice bucket, which he set next to the bed. He'd found the cookies in Sam's tote, and put the container on the nightstand. He didn't interrupt their conversation, but joined them in the bed. Sliding in on her other side, he put a hand on her leg, his fingers exploring the crease between hip and thigh, skating up her hip and over to her navel to toy with her tiny pewter bear piercing. His other fingers fanned out over her stomach.
Geoff continued to play with her hair. "Chris says, if you learn to live in every moment fully, then you'll make the most of a lifetime. The things that are important, you'll never lose them, because you appreciate them to the point you never let them go, and their joy never dims."
Sam's gaze slid back to Chris. "You said that?"
"Not quite that pretty. Geoff tends to pick up my words and smooth them out. Lawyer."
"I can translate laconic Southern male." Geoff touched her mouth with his and tilted his head toward Chris. "Ready to live fully in the moment?"
"I never stopped." Chris held his gaze, then turned it to Sam, catching her in midyawn. His eyes twinkled. "But we might want to give our hardworking girl a little sleep first."
***
In the morning, Chris joined her in the shower first thing, taking her up against the wall and leaving her blood humming. She started her day almost maniacally happy. She even volunteered to take care of the brunch dishes, despite it being Geoff's day for the chore. While Geoff took his postmeal shower, she scraped egg off the plates at the sink and sang a favorite song in fits and starts while doing a little hip-shaking standing-in-place dance over the suds.
Chris had gone out to the work shed to fix a bent tool. The way he was hammering it against a stump, she imagined him as a blacksmith hundreds of years ago. Maybe he made swords for knights and shoes for horses. His large hands would handle the animal gently as he lifted one of the horse's legs and nailed the shoe onto the hoof to protect it.
In the current-day real world, Chris finished working the dents out of what looked like some kind of hoe. Then he retrieved the rake to clean up leaves under the Japanese cherry. Chris didn't care anything for fashion, but he liked his T-shirts. Today's was a colorful print advertising an alehouse in Germany somewhere. The graphic looked like a Viking taking a hefty swallow from a giant mug of beer. The Viking had his arm slung around a tipsy dragon. Chris did most of his shopping for unusual T-shirts at the thrift stores, so she expected he'd picked it up from one of them.
Since the day was warming up, it wasn't long before he stripped off the shirt, tossing it over a branch and continuing to work in a pair of old jeans with a couple of frayed holes and worn soft to crease in the right places. It was one of the few pairs he had for yardwork, since he usually preferred camos or painter's pants for that. He was so beautiful, she couldn't think of a better view as she washed dishes.
Geoff's arm slid around her waist, his body pressing against her. "What are you doing?"
"Cleaning up after two pigs." She purred as he teased her neck with his lips. It turned her legs to spaghetti, not that they weren't close to that already, thanks to the activities of the past twelve hours.
"Pigs, hmm?" He snorted against her ear, an oink, oink sound that had her giggling. Pressing her forward with the shift of his body, he reached both arms around her to push open the window, letting the breeze touch her face before wrapping one arm across her, forearm pressed above her breasts. He kept his lips close to her ear, so his voice could stay a silky murmur.
"Do you remember that fantasy Madison talked about the first time we went to Naughty Bits? About Chris being the yard boy who couldn't stop looking at you in an inappropriate way?"
Everything in her started pulsing, the sore tissues between her legs throbbing and her breasts feeling fuller, tighter under his touch.
"Yes."
He tugged the elastic scoop neck of her peasant-style dress down below her breasts, framing them in both hands.
"You didn't wear a bra on purpose," he said mildly.
"You told me not to wear any underwear--" She swallowed a gasp as he pinched her nipples. "Yes sir. I didn't wear one on purpose."
"Because you wanted the yard boy to look at you. You wanted him to know there was nothing under here but you. You knew he wouldn't be able to keep his eyes off your breasts, the way they quiver when you move, how your nipples look."