One drink won’t hurt my ability to negotiate, but it will take the edge off. “Please. Whatever you’re drinking is fine.”
“It’s Irish whiskey.” He gets to his feet. “Would you like ice?”
“Please.”
He makes me a drink. While he does that, Theo hands me a tablet. “What’s this?” I ask.
“Both Shane and I filled out the standard Club M checklist,” he explains. “It’s on the tablet. You can read it now or take it home.”
Oh. Very high tech. I set the device aside. “Later, please.” Shane hands me a drink. Our fingers touch, and a frisson of awareness runs through me. Ah, good. Chemistry won’t be a problem.
“Let’s talk, then.” Theo sits down across from me. “First, timing. Shane and I are here for the next eight days, and then we fly back home.” He looks straight at me. “I would like to spend that time with you. Eight sessions.”
I sit up. More than a week with them? Alarm spikes through me. That’s far too much contact. “I can’t do that.”
“It's close to Christmas. A busy time of the year, I get that. We’ll be willing to work around your schedule.”
There’s nothing on my schedule. The invitations still sit unopened on my coffee table. “I can’t do eight scenes. Just the one.”
“No,” Theo says immediately. “That’s unacceptable. I want more than one session.”
He doesn’t look like he’s going to budge. Shane steps in. “Negotiate with us, Ms. Byard,” he says mildly. “What if we compromised? How about three scenes?”
Three. My heart is still racing, and my palms are sweaty, but I make myself take a deep breath and consider the situation logically. “Okay. I can do three scenes.” Shane smiles. The first time he’s smiled all evening. It makes him look a lot younger. Almost boyish. I wonder how old he is, but I don’t ask—it feels too personal a question. “Where? Here, in the club?”
“Yes,” Theo replies. If he’s irritated with me, it doesn’t show. “Would you like penetration?”
My cheeks heat. “Yes,” I murmur.
“What about oral? Will you suck our cocks? Do you want us to lick your cunt?”
Desire shudders down my spine. “Yes.”
“Vaginal? Anal? Both at the same time?”
My insides tighten. My pussy feels heavy with anticipation. “Yes.”
“Pain?”
“Within reason,” I respond. This is such a surreal conversation. People outside the BDSM world might argue that it’s too cold-blooded, too dispassionate, but I’ve always liked the negotiation. Sitting here, discussing what I want Shane and Theo to do to me, feels like foreplay, and my lust-starved body responds. “I like nipple clamps. I like crops and paddles and floggers. I don’t like being caned. Needles freak me out.”
Theo takes some notes on his tablet. “Got it. Do you want to play in public or in private?”
I look at him in surprise. “I thought that wasn't your kink of choice.”
“It's not. But it’s a soft limit, not a hard one. If you were interested, I would consider it.”
I think about it. I’ve been on the center stage twice. Both times, it was at Elliot’s urging. The experience had been outside my comfort zone, but I also enjoyed it very much. What made it pleasurable for me was Elliott's reaction. He loved showing me off, and I loved him, so I was happy to do it.
But what I'm arranging with Shane and Theo isn’t about love. It's just sex.
“Private, please.”
We continue the negotiations, going down the list of turn-ons and turn-offs. Finally, Theo sets down his tablet. “Are you free tomorrow night?”
Tomorrow. So soon. “Yes, that'll work. I’m staying at Summit this weekend.”
“So are we,” he says. “We’ll pick you up for dinner. Would seven work?”