Page 6 of One Night with My Lawyers
I wince.This is like a Band-Aid, Addie. Best to rip it off.“Not just scening. There's been no vanilla sex either.”
“Oh wow,” Theo says softly. “That is a long time.”
I nod again, looking at him properly for the very first time. Theo Keppel is broad and solid. His hair is sandy brown, and his eyes are the clear blue of a summer sky. He's wearing a white shirt tucked into gray slacks, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. Iimagine his big palm wrapped around my neck, and a shiver of desire runs through me.
Shane is lean, built like a runner. He's wearing a suit. Unlike Theo, his tie is still on, and so is his jacket. He looks like he could be heading into a business meeting, and the only thing that counters that narrative is the drink in his hand.
“Is that a deal-breaker?” I ask bluntly.
“No,” Shane replies. “Not for me.” He glances at Theo, and whatever he sees there puts a smile on his lips. “Not for Theo either.” He leans forward. “Would you like a drink?”
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.”
