The Architect (Nashville Neighborhood 3)

Clay wasn’t as distracted as the other man; he was intent on getting me naked. “Lilith and I talked a little before you arrived, and I told her it was okay if she has feelings for you.”

Surprise made Travis’s eyes widen. His lips parted to speak, but then the clasp of my bra was undone, and my breasts tumbled free. As the bra fell to the ground, Clay’s warm hands closed around me and squeezed hard enough to make me melt back into him. Travis stared at us, transfixed.

“And then what did you say to me?” Clay’s head was beside mine, and he tilted down to drop a kiss on the place where my neck met my body.

I shivered and my breath went shallow. Travis was a statue as he watched another man’s hands on me, and his expression said he both loved and hated it.

“I said I have feelings for you too,” I admitted.

One of Clay’s hands moved down, his fingertips skimming over my taut stomach, then slipped inside the top of my panties. My heart beat faster and faster as he continued his descent.

“And I like what we have,” I whispered. He stroked his fingers between my legs, and I moaned. “Oh, my God—I like it so much.”

Clay gave a grunt of satisfaction while he rubbed where I was hot and damp, sending a shower of goosebumps down my legs. “Yeah. I like it too.”

Travis watched the hand inside my panties as if he were hypnotized, and his Adam’s apple bobbed with a thick swallow.

“What about you, Travis?” Clay’s tone was full of seduction. “Do you like what we have?”

The question carried double meaning. On the surface, he was asking about the arrangement. But beneath, he could be taking about me. That the ‘we’ meant he and Travis were a pair and they possessed me jointly.

There was no hesitation, and although the word was quiet, it detonated like a bomb. “Yes.”

My underwear was pushed down across my thighs so it was out of Clay’s way, and perhaps as a reward to Travis, who could see now exactly how the other man was touching me. It was tame in comparison to all the things Clay had seen Travis do to me, but it was somehow just as intense. The role reversal made everything feel brand new.

“Good,” Clay said. “Since it’s been working for us, let’s modify the arrangement.”

I swallowed a breath and my eyebrows tugged together. “How?”

“I was thinking Travis and I could be equal partners. If he wants to lead a scene with you, I’m okay with that.” He tacked it on to the end like he’d just thought of it, even though I highly doubted it. “As long as I get to watch. Would you like that?”

Oh, my God.

“Yes,” Travis and I said together.

Lava pumped through my veins at the idea, and I worried I was going to combust as I watched desire flood Travis’s expression.

“And, obviously, you can talk to each other going—”

“Can I kiss her?” Travis asked in a rush.

The hand teasing me froze. Was it the interruption that bothered him, or the question? Clay’s tone was biting. “You did yesterday, didn’t you?”

Travis’s gaze shifted away, and he cleared his throat. “And, uh, this afternoon.”

“Doesn’t sound like you care if you have my permission.”

The heat of Clay’s body behind me slid away, leaving me cold and lonely. It felt like punishment, and I deserved it, didn’t I? With what Travis and I had done, it seemed like our kissing had bothered him the most.

“I’m sorry,” Travis said. “You gave me clear boundaries, but I did what I wanted anyway.”

Clay went to the workbench and retrieved the coil of black rope that rested there. “Yeah. That’s why we’re going to work on your self-control tonight.” He came back to stand in front of me, and his voice dropped low. “Hands together.”

As I complied, it improved my posture, and my underwear slipped down to my ankles. It was strange to be naked while both men were dressed, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It helped with how Clay stared at me, and the way his shoulders rose and fell with his uneven breaths.

The rope was tied around my wrists, and it wasn’t surprising how efficiently Clay moved as he threaded the thick cord back and forth in a figure eight, creating layers up my forearms like cuffs. When he seemed satisfied, he knotted it off, but left a long tail.

His voice was deep and commanding and meant for me. “Yesterday, I told you I’d give you so many orgasms you’d beg me to stop, but you didn’t keep up your end of the deal, did you?”

I was uncomfortable with my guilt. “No, I didn’t.”

“There has to be consequences for that.” Dark anticipation lit his eyes. It said I might not enjoy what he had planned, but he certainly would. “On the table,” he ordered. “On your back.”