His hand came out, pushing her hair back. “Try. Tell me about Stanley.”
“Fine. He was a client. He came on to me once. The first time he made an appointment with me, I sat down and took all his information. And he asked me about happy endings.” She remembered that she pretty much wanted to punch the asshole. It hadn’t been so long since she’d been cleared for work. They’d needed to make sure she wouldn’t kill anyone. She’d totally thought about killing Stanley.
“Why didn’t you walk out?” Chase was looking at her boobs. Sure, they were covered, but he was looking at the place where her boobs would be. And her nipples hardened. Because she was a freak.
“He was the third client who’d asked about it. I told him if he touched me I would take his balls off, and he nodded and said he understood.” He’d been a creep, but he’d tipped well. “Look, Dawson, massage therapy was all I knew. I went to college, but I didn’t come out of it with a degree I could use.”
He smiled slightly, his big hand reaching for hers. He touched the middle finger of her right hand where it was well callused. “Arts?”
Years she’d spent with a paintbrush in her hand only to learn no one gave a damn that she could mimic the moderns. “Yep. Four years of undergrad work and I was ready for a job in the fast-food industry. So I went to massage therapist school. My mom suggested it. My dad was friends with the man who ran the school.”
“You mentioned your parents were in the lifestyle.” Chase had the sweetest smile on his face. God, he was gorgeous.
“My mom was Dad’s sub. Was? Still is. They’re very active. Mom still gets her ass whipped in all kinds of classes. Mom and Dad founded their club in San Antonio. They still have a munch every third Saturday.” She hated to think about how close her tragedy had come to breaking them.
Chase traced a hand across her cheek. “It must have hurt them terribly when they learned what happened to you.”
She nodded, but didn’t move away. “Yes.”
“Natalie, sweetness, you understand that what happened to you wasn’t BDSM, right? It was assault. It was rape. I’ve heard the term nonconsensual BDSM and it’s flat-out dumb. It’s an oxymoron. There’s no such thing as nonconsensual BDSM. Nonconsensual BDSM is a crime. BDSM is a choice. It’s like telling someone they had nonconsensual sex. Baby, there’s sex and then there’s rape.”
She knew the difference intellectually. Emotionally was a whole new challenge.
The door opened and Ben walked in. He didn’t seem to have his brother’s problems with underwear. He was in a pair of boxers that hung low on his perfectly muscled hips and showed off that shouldn’t-be-allowed-in-real-life eight-pack of his. He rolled in a tray that promised all manner of breakfast delights. He stopped, his jaw dropping open just a bit.
“Dude, seriously? Where the fuck are your pants?”
Chase rolled onto his back, his cock thrusting up. God, Ben had sort of looked like that last night when she rode him to her first orgasm in years. Of course she’d thought he was Chase. So in a way she’d already slept with Chase. In her head at least. And she’d totally slept with Ben.
God, what would it be like if this little domestic scene was real? She had a choice. She could run and they probably wouldn’t stop her. She could get dressed, and the next time she saw them everything would be back on a professional footing and she could go right back to her comfortable shell.
Except her shell had cracked all to hell last night, and she kind of liked the freedom. Old Nat would have reveled in this. Old Nat would be joking and laughing and holding it all in as a crazy experience she could remember in her golden years.
That Nat was dead, but she didn’t have to retreat into her shell again.
She relaxed, her back against the headboard. She’d worked here for almost two years and she’d never been in one of the suites. It was decadent and plush and all those other words she used to associate with pleasure.
“You were supposed to be calling the sheriff so we could take a look at the files.” Ben stopped pushing the tray and frowned his brother’s way.
Chase stretched and yawned. “The file is on its way as we speak. Logan is picking it up.”
“Logan was here? Tell me you put some clothes on before you talked to Logan.”
“Why would I do that? Logan’s from Bliss. We’re lucky the dude ever wears clothes at all. God, Ben, when did you get to be such a prude?” He sat up, his lean body in a graceful pose. “Benjamin, let’s talk about the human body. It’s natural. It’s a beautiful thing.”
Ben fastballed an orange, hitting his brother square in the forehead, and then both men winced. “Fucker. Nat, baby, come over here and sit down with the civilized folks. I ordered you breakfast. I didn’t know what you liked so I just got a little of everything. And I have someone picking up clothes from your room.”
“Spoilsport,” Chase groused, rolling off the bed. “And like you look so civilized in your freaking boxers. Geez, next you’re going to be in a thong shaking your ass in front of her. At least I was blunt and honest.”
Ben shot him the finger.
If she didn’t take control, they would be punching each other like five-year-olds on a playground. And Chase was a little right. Those boxers were strategically placed to show off just about everything Ben had. There was zero chance the man had gotten up and they just happened to sit in the precisely right place to show off the notches on his hips.
“Both of you behave.” She took the seat Ben pulled out for her. He was definitely the gentleman. Chase was the one who sat down to breakfast with his dick hanging out. Crap. She kind of liked them both.
Chase poured her a cup of coffee. “I will if he does.”
Ben took the seat next to her. She was perfectly flanked by Dawson brothers. “I’m the good one. Eggs?”
She looked at the plate in front of her. She didn’t normally eat breakfast because she didn’t sleep much and then after she’d finally managed to go to bed, she let herself sleep way too late and had to hurry to get to work. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually forced herself to sit down to a meal because it always brought back bad memories. God, even food caused her grief.
“Sweetness? The eggs won’t bite back. I made sure they’re dead. They’re defeated eggs.” Chase stared at her with too-assessing eyes. She felt like he was prying back all her defenses to get to the woman inside, but she wasn’t sure who was left in there. “Are you a vegan?”
She shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”
Her stomach chose that moment to growl.
Ben leaned forward. “You’re obviously hungry. Is it us? We can get dressed. Natalie, if you’re uncomfortable, we can take you down to the dining room. We can conduct this interview there if you like.”
She didn’t want them to feel bad. They’d been ridiculously sweet and even though Chase was showing off his cock like a peacock preening, he hadn’t tried to touch her or make a move on her.
“Ben, do you remember how Kitten was when we met her?” Chase’s face was grave. A moment passed between the brothers. They knew her friend. They knew practically everything.
“I’m not going to eat until you do,” Ben said, pushing his plate away.
“That’s not fair.” If he’d ordered her to eat she could have thrown a biscuit in his face and walked out.
“Nothing about what happened to you was fair,” Chase said. “Food deprivation was part of the bastard’s training, wasn’t it? I never got the story from Kitten. She never talks about it, but I can certainly put two and two together. Did he simply refuse to feed you? I don’t think so. If he refused to feed you, you would likely gorge yourself when you had the chance. I think it was worse than that.”
Ben sighed, seemingly following his brother’s line of thinking. “He put the food out and when she tried to eat without permission, he hurt her.”
God, why was she so ashamed? She got up to go, but stopped herself. Damn it. This wasn’t her fault. This wasn’
t something to be ashamed of. She’d survived him. She’d won. She’d taken his ass down, but she still ate standing up as though she needed to fucking run. She took a deep breath. “He kept us in the dark most of the time. He would place food in the cage and then when we would try to eat it, he had one of his servants hit us with a cattle prod. I don’t like cattle prods. Not at all. Or Tasers. But I used to like Danishes. The cheese kind. Could I please have one of those?”
“You can have anything, baby.” Ben had that Danish on her plate before she could blink.
And she had stupid tears in her eyes. She hadn’t cried in years. Not when she’d killed Hawk. Not when the police had taken her in. Not when her parents came. But since Chase had spanked her, it seemed to always be right there.
Chase leaned over, a lazy look on his face. He touched her nose.
“What?” she asked. Was there something wrong?
“I like your nose. It’s cute. Like a little button on your face.”
God, he was so weird. How could anyone that hot be so weird? But it worked. She laughed and took that stupid Danish and had a bite. Warm, buttery, sugary, and rich. The taste spread over her tongue like a wave of pleasure. “It’s really good.”
“I would love to try some.” Chase scooted his chair toward her.
“Me, too.” Ben got even closer.
“Seriously?” But she felt the smile cross her face. This was stupid. They would leave. They would go back to their obviously wealthy world in a few days after her fate was decided and she would be alone again. She would have to leave the penthouse suite and go back to the employee quarters and deal with her lonely life. If she wasn’t in jail. So it wasn’t smart to think about feeding them. It was stupid. They were grown, naked men, who should get their own damn Danishes.
She tore off two pieces. If she fed one first, the other would grouse. She had to treat them equally or she would have one grumpalicious hottie on her hands. She held out the equally large pieces of Danish, and they moved as one, both gorgeous heads leaning in to snatch the treat from her hands. Ben’s mouth closed over her fingers, his tongue coming out and licking to get all the sweetness from her hand. And Chase was a sexy bastard. He nipped her, the little bite going straight to her pussy.
Fuck. She was in so much trouble.
“What else do you want to try?” Ben asked.
“I bet she likes cinnamon,” Chase said, picking up a heavenly-looking roll.
“Or muffins.” Ben winked her way.
It didn’t matter that they would leave. It mattered that they were here, and she suddenly felt lighter than she had in years. “Both. Definitely.”
“That’s what we want to hear.” Stereo. They said it at the same time.
The door came open, and Nat heard a little sigh.
“My Nat is with my Masters. Oh, and we’re having a party!” Kitten flew across the room, launching herself at Natalie.
Natalie found herself in possession of a hundred pounds of Kitten. “Hey. It’s so good to see you.”
Kitten threw her arms around Natalie’s neck, squeezing her tight. “I’m so happy to see you, too. I missed you, Nat.”
Kitten. Subby, victimized Kitten who had held Nat’s hand and stroked her hair the night when Hawk had nearly killed her. Kitten had held her together even in the gloom. When she was sure she would die, Kitten had begged her to live. Now the tears really pooled in her eyes. Fuck. Kitten was just a girl in the same cage. That was all she was supposed to be. Goddamn it. Nat loved Kitten. Four years later and it hit her squarely in the chest. She loved Kitten.
Her arms tightened. This wasn’t just someone who’d survived the same thing. This was her friend. “I missed you, too, sweetie.” She pulled back. “Holy shit. Say it again, Kitten.”
Kitten sat in her lap, not a self-conscious thing about her. She grinned. “I’ve missed you, Nat.”
“You used pronouns.” Holy hell. The last time she’d seen Kitten, Kitten was still referring to herself in the third person. And when she would write, she never capitalized her name.
“I am getting better.” Kitten sat up, a smile on her gamine face. “Masters Ben and Chase helped me so much.”
Ben and Chase? Masters? Fuck. “They’re your Masters?”
Kitten nodded. “And now we’re one big family. And everyone is naked. I love naked.”
Kitten hopped off and started tossing her clothes to the ground.
“You’re my best friend’s Doms and you still slept with me?” She hissed the question their directions.
“No,” Ben said, his eyes going wide.
Chase pointed toward his lap. “No sex with the Kitten. None. Little Chase never touched her.”
“And yet she seems so comfortable,” Nat observed. Kitten was down to her undies and she happily chucked them.
“Master Logan is coming in soon. He has your police report.” Kitten frowned. “The police here are very rude, and I don’t think they are tolerant of alternative lifestyles.”
But Kitten was tolerant of everything. She simply smiled and asked for a muffin, which Ben handed her.
“Seriously, Natalie, we were her therapy,” Ben explained. “Neither one of us fucked her.”
Kitten pouted. “Master Julian wrote it into my contracts. Not even Master Logan can have sex with me. But he gave me the most delicious spanking this morning. It was a wonderful way to wake up.” She frowned, looking to Ben. “Your sister is very unreasonable. First she argued with the Master over where to sleep. She seemed to think that the Master should be on the floor. Is she defective?”
Only Kitten would think that way. But neither Ben nor Chase seemed aware of her in anything but a passing fashion. They weren’t acting like lovers who had gotten caught with a piece on the side.
“She is a brat of the highest order and good luck to Logan with her.” Ben got up and pulled out a chair for Kitten.
And Nat really watched them. They were Doms. Like real Doms. The ones she’d grown up around. The ones who rarely gave up control. The night before had been an aberration. With Ben, not Chase. Chase had been exactly what he purported himself to be. He’d been dark and brooding, and he’d given her what she needed.
But Ben had been another side of the man. Giving and tolerant. He’d allowed her the dominant position, but he wouldn’t forever. He was a Dom and he would want a sub, and she couldn’t really be a sub again. She could think about it. Get her ass spanked from time to time.
But she couldn’t be a submissive again. That part of her had been burned away, never to really return again.
“Kitten, sit down.” Chase pointed at the fourth chair, and Kitten immediately sat, her satisfaction evident.
She did love Kitten, but it was obvious Kitten could handle things Nat couldn’t.
“Got the police report. Kitten, clothes?” A tall, broadly built young man strode in the room like he owned it. How many keys had Ben and Chase given out?
Kitten sat up straight. “Please, Master? Everyone else is practically naked. Master Chase is altogether naked.”
A little smile crossed his face. “Sure. Reminds me of home. Now, here’s the report, but it’s damn sloppy. If I turned this in, Nate would have my ass in a sling. And there’s nothing back on the prints. There was a full ounce of China White found in one of the drawers, though that’s surprisingly inexpensive these days. I need to see what they cut it with. It would tell me a lot about where it came from. When I asked him about splitting the drug and giving me a breakdown percentage, he looked at me like I was an idiot. This police force doesn’t understand a thing.”
Did no one care that people kept walking in and Chase was naked and Kitten was naked and she only had a shirt on and Ben was in his undies?
“Thanks, Logan.” Ben pointed at Nat. “Logan, Natalie. Natalie, Logan. He was a deputy in his small town before he got his ass kicked by the Russian mob and needed an attitude adjustment.”
Logan nodded her way. “Bliss, Colorado. Home of nudists, aliens,
and the murder capital of the USA. There are two towns in Colombia that beat us per capita or we would hold the world title. Someday.”
A blonde woman walked in wearing the most ridiculous pair of heels. “Benny, I need to talk to you. Logan is an asshole. He needs to go.”
Chase actually jumped, his big body careening toward the side of the bed where he pulled the sheet down, covering his nudity. “Fuck, Georgie, give a man a goddamn chance.”
Ben hid behind Nat, using her as a shield. “Georgia, go away. For god’s sake. This is our freaking bedroom. We have a girl in here.”
The blonde rolled her eyes. “Surprise. Surprise. And what’s up with all the naked people? Chase, you need some clothes. You have enough money for clothes, right? Ben, put on a shirt. What’s wrong with you guys? And Logan is a beyotch. He thinks I’m going to stay in the room and like clean shit. I don’t know what’s up with him.”
Chase practically crawled under the bed. Ben tried to disappear under the table.
It was obvious their little interrogation was over.
Maybe they weren’t so scary after all.
* * * *
Chase was ready to kill his siblings. Ben. Georgia. It didn’t matter. Ben had brought Georgia along, and Georgia was killing his soul by walking in when he was perfectly comfortable with his own nakedness.
“Go away, Georgie.”
He heard a long sigh. “Fine, but you’re all weird. And you should wear clothes. Why is the Kitten chick naked? She was like all dressed when we went to the hick-cop place. Fine, I’ll go, but there’s another chick waiting out in the living area and she’s all kinds of freaked out.”
Damn it. He should have put on pants. He’d just kind of hoped that Nat would end up falling on his erection and then he would have a hold on her. It still rankled that Ben had slept with her and he hadn’t. And dear god, the last thing he needed was another freaked-out chick.
“Ben? Could you handle the freaked-out chick, please? I need to put on pants. Kitten, clothes. Now.”
Kitten sighed and started putting her clothes back on. “It’s a lifestyle resort. I don’t understand what’s with all the restrictions.”