Chapter 10

Something was very off. Summer slowly came awake to the feel of a soft pillow under her cheek and warm blankets. She was either dreaming, or the last two years had never happened, and she was in her apartment in Denver. She hadn't had anything this nice at her apartment, though.

Taking a risk, she opened her eyes, and her memory flooded back. She bolted to sitting.

"Hey, honey." A hand landed on her back.

She twisted around to see Colter sitting against the headboard, a laptop on his thighs. Her panic slowly eased.

"I didn't want to wake you," he said with a smile. "You really needed sleep." He reached out, cupped her cheek, and stroked under her eyes. "Your eyes look better. I bet you haven't slept that well in a very long time."

She shook her head.

"Bridger made breakfast. He's keeping it warm for you. I bet you're hungry."

This was so surreal. One of the sexiest men she'd ever set eyes on was sitting next to her, wearing nothing but gray shorts. He was even on top of the covers, so she had a full view of his muscular thighs, six-pack abs, and then his pecs. Sheesh.

His blond hair was messy from sleep, and his blue eyes twinkled with kindness. Did he have any idea how gorgeous he was?

Realizing she'd just spent a good amount of time staring at his body, she jerked her gaze down and turned away. "Sorry."

"For what?"

She shook her head. She had no idea how to answer him.

"Do you want to get up? Or I could have Bridger bring you breakfast in bed."

She spun around to look at him again, eyes wide. "You don't have to wait on me."

"Honey, it would be our pleasure."

She tried to relax and took several deep breaths. "I need to…" Pee. I need to pee. Jesus.

He pointed toward the attached bathroom. "I'll wait right here."

She stared at the open door as she slowly slid off the side of the bed. She even managed to make sure the T-shirt was covering her ass as she shuffled forward.

Why was it so hard to use the fucking bathroom? How was she ever going to overcome this? A part of her didn't think it was possible. Until these two men had walked into that house last night as her rescuers instead of her new Master, she'd had no hope left.

She stood at the threshold of the bathroom and looked inside. It was even more luxurious than the one she'd used last night in the guest room. It had a huge bathtub, bigger than any she'd ever seen before. It also had a separate shower with several spouts. It was glass and deep enough that it didn't have a door. If someone were showering in there, they would be on display to the entire room.

She shivered at the thought of these two men using that shower, separately or together. She could picture one bathing while the other stood at the long vanity shaving. Maybe he would have a towel around his hips. He would be able to watch his partner in the mirror.

Her mind was taking her down a dangerous path. She actually felt jealous of the imaginary show she'd just conjured up.

There was a separate room with a toilet, and she needed to make her way to that room and use the fucking toilet. Alone.

Hands landed on her shoulders. She hadn't heard anyone approaching, but she knew it was Bridger. "One day, one hour, one minute at a time, baby."

She loved the way he called her baby. It made her feel cherished. It shouldn't. He was just being nice. He and Colter had obviously been together for a long time. She needed to stop thinking of them as anything but kind. If they'd wanted a woman in their lives, they would have had one by now.

She groaned. "It's ridiculous. Why can't I use the bathroom?" she murmured.

"It's not ridiculous. You were conditioned over and over until it became normal."

"The thought of touching myself for any reason makes me panic. Even this shirt stresses me out." She grabbed the front of it and pulled it away from her nipples. They were hard just from the grazing of the cotton over them.

He was right. She was conditioned to keep her fingers away from her body. She'd been warned a million times that she would be punished if she was caught with her fingers near her tits or her…cunt. She squeezed her eyes closed at the thought of that word that had been tossed around all day, every day, demeaning all the women to the point they expected it.

"Let it touch you, baby," he whispered near her ear. "Let your shirt graze your nipples." He gently tugged her fingers away from the front of the T-shirt so that it fell back against her chest.

She shivered at the contact.

"What did they do to you, baby?" he asked in a voice so low she knew he didn't require a response. He slid his hands down to hers, threaded their fingers together, and drew her palms up to her breasts.

She gasped when he pressed her hands against her nipples. "See? The world is still spinning. It's your body. You get to decide if you want to feel pleasure or not. No one is ever going to tell you not to touch yourself again, and no one is going to touch you without your permission."

She felt Colter's presence as he joined them in the doorway. "He's right, honey. Before you were abducted, what would you do right now?"

"Pee, wash my hands, and brush my teeth," she stated without hesitating.

"I moved your toothbrush and a few other things in here," Bridger told her as he released her hands. "You can do those three things without help. I know you can. Then we'll go into the kitchen so you can eat."

She took a breath and nodded before stepping over the threshold into the forbidden room.

"If you don't want to shut the door, that's okay. We'll step out of sight but still be right here if you need us," Bridger told her.

"Thank you." She left the door to the bathroom wide open. Her modesty barometer was jacked. Her mind kept telling her it didn't matter if she was naked in front of them. But it did matter because normal people in regular society did not roam around naked in front of men they didn't know.

Slaves did, though, and she only knew how to be a slave. It was so ingrained in her that she'd forgotten what her life had been like before.

She padded to the smaller room with the toilet, turned on the light, and pushed the door almost shut. After lifting her T-shirt, she managed to pee, and forced herself to wipe.

It felt so damn strange touching her pussy, even with the toilet paper. She hurried out to the sink, where she washed her hands and brushed her teeth, almost like a normal human.

Both men were waiting in the bedroom, smiling as though she'd climbed Mt. Everest, and they were proud.

"Breakfast." Bridger nodded over his shoulder.

She followed him, but she kept plucking the cotton away from her chest. It was impossible to explain how weird it felt to have anything touching her body. Strange and so against the rules that she couldn't shake the feeling she would be punished every time the cotton grazed her tits.

Colter grabbed her hips and lifted her onto the stool at the island where she'd sat last night.

She pursed her lips and fought against the dozens of thoughts bombarding her. She wasn't permitted to sit on furniture. She wasn't permitted to wear a shirt. She wasn't permitted to let anything graze her tits. She wasn't allowed to press her thighs together. The list was long.

As the men set things in front of her, the list grew. They gave her a glass instead of a plastic tumbler. They laid down a knife and fork. The plate was porcelain. Slaves don't use nice dishes. Her hair was unkempt. She should have fixed the braid before she came into the kitchen.

Colter held up two jugs from the fridge. "Orange juice or apple?"

Her mouth watered.

Slaves drink water from the sink.

She glanced toward the sink.

Colter stepped into her line of sight. "You may have all the water you want. We have a filter on the fridge. But you need some calories, honey. Apple or orange? Surely you like one or the other."

She lifted her gaze to him. "I like both."

He set them both down, grabbed a second glass, and filled both.

She stared at the beverages. Last night, he'd given her soda. She hadn't had anything except water since before her abduction.

"Do you like eggs, Summer? Fried? Scrambled? Poached?" Bridger asked.

Her mouth watered. "Yes, Sir."

"Bridger, baby. My name is Bridger. Tell me which way you'd prefer them this morning."

"Please pick for me." She couldn't make so many decisions. Then she remembered something. "I don't think I like runny yolks."

Both men beamed at her. "Progress," Colter said. "I bet you'll remember more and more as we go along. What about pancakes?"

She groaned at the idea. "Yes, please."

Bridger was frying things. She could smell bacon, too. She hoped her stomach could tolerate all these rich foods.

Colter set two types of syrup in front of her. "I like real maple syrup—the good stuff. Bridger is a heathen. He likes the high-fructose corn syrup variety. Bleh. But we have both."

She found herself involuntarily smiling. "My father liked the cheap stuff. My mother liked the real stuff." The happy memory lingered a moment before she dropped her smile and looked down.

"Where are your parents now, honey?" Colter asked.

"They're gone."

"I'm so sorry, baby," Bridger said as he scooted a hard-fried egg, bacon, and pancakes onto her plate.

"Do you have other relatives or friends who might be looking for you?" Colter asked as he sat on the stool next to her.

She opened her mouth and then closed it. She didn't want to answer that question. Not yet. She wasn't ready.

Colter stroked her arm. "It's okay. We'll come back to that."

Bridger leaned across the island from the other side. "I assume you're not married since…"

Since I haven't had sex. She shook her head.

"Eat what you can, Summer," Bridger added before turning back to the stove, where he started to clean up.

"I can do that," she stated.

Colter set a hand on hers. "You're not cleaning or cooking for us, honey. Ever." They'd told her that a few times already. She was struggling with the idea. He pointed at her plate. "Eat. You need fuel. You'll feel better after you get something inside you."

She took a drink of the orange juice and moaned. Her hand was shaking as she set that glass down and sipped the apple.

"Which one wins?" Colter asked.

"Both." She smiled again. It felt weird, but she liked it. Feeling bold, she reached for both syrups and poured one on one pancake and the other on the second.

Colter laughed.

She took a bite of one and then the other. Her taste buds were coming back to life.

"And?" Bridger asked. He'd returned to the table and leaned anxiously forward as if her choosing one syrup over the other would insinuate she liked one of the men more.

She shook her head. "I'll never answer that. For the rest of my life, I will eat both."

Everyone froze.

She dropped her gaze. "Sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. I didn't mean anything by it."

Colter lifted her chin. "Don't be sorry. It was sweet. Extremely sweet."

"I promise I'll get out of your hair as soon as I can." She felt ridiculous flirting with these two men over breakfast. Her ability to flirt had surely died a long time ago.

"You're not leaving, honey," Colter reiterated. "You need help. We're going to provide it—end of story. And just to address the elephant in the room, it would be foolish to pretend there isn't sexual tension in the air. I can't speak for you, but I can speak for Bridger and me. You're a gorgeous woman, and underneath the pain and suffering you've been through, we know there's a very special person. Though Bridger and I are a committed couple, we have always left open the possibility of adding a third to our lives. It would be unfair if we didn't admit we're attracted to you, but we would never pressure you to return that affection. We're gentlemen above all else. Still, there's no sense pretending we think of you as a gal pal."

His smile was so sexy she nearly swooned. She hadn't looked a man in the eyes in so long she'd forgotten what it was like to read their expressions. Granted, the men she'd been surrounded with all this time would have had expressions she wouldn't have wanted to see, so it was probably best she had not.

She wrapped her hand around his where he was cupping her cheek. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

They left her alone to eat, though they did hover. When she couldn't swallow another bite, she sat back.

"What have you been eating for the past year, honey?" Colter asked.

She sighed. "A lot of oatmeal with no flavor. Bland, boring foods that had no taste. Sometimes, I didn't know what I was eating. I only ate because the punishment for not eating was severe."

Bridger lifted her off the stool. "Let's move to the couch. We'll be more comfortable."

She liked how he held her hand and led her into the open living room. She hadn't taken the time to look around last night. Today, there was a lot of light coming in from windows all the way around the penthouse.

She stopped walking when she noticed one entire corner of the large room was filled with musical instruments, the focal point being a sleek black grand piano.

Summer stared for a long time before letting her body propel herself in that direction. She held her breath as she wandered past several guitars on stands and then trailed her fingers along the edge of the keys on the piano.

Long-buried feelings stirred inside her, making her start trembling. She hadn't played in so long.

"Do you play, baby?" Bridger's soft voice yanked her out of her trip down memory lane.

She shook her head, though she had no idea why. But then she responded, "Not anymore." She crossed her arms as a chill climbed up her spine. A second after that, she dropped her arms and pulled the cotton away from her chest.

Bridger stepped closer, plucked her fingers free of the cotton, and pulled her into his arms. He held her tightly and rocked her against him for a long time. "Come. Let's sit. We need to address a few things."

She let him lead her to the sofa, where she managed to force herself to climb into the corner and accepted the soft blanket Colter draped over her. She huddled under it. Would she ever truly be warm again?

She'd been warm last night. She'd slept hard, too.

Colter sat on one side of her, Bridger on the other. Since she was in the corner, their knees were practically touching as they angled toward her.

Colter set his elbows on his knees and rubbed his hands together. "I'd like you to allow us to bring two people in on this situation."

She sucked in a breath. The idea was scary, but she wasn't in a position to be disagreeable. Besides, this was their home.

"With your permission, Summer," Bridger added.

Colter nodded. "First, my sister."

Summer's eyes went wide. "You have a sister?"

"Yes. Carmen. She's one of the kindest people I know, but more importantly, she owns a boutique. I'd like to call her and ask her to bring over some clothes for you. She can take some measurements, figure out what you like, and then come back with more later. How does that sound?"

Summer chewed on her bottom lip. She did need clothes, but the thought of putting them on made her panic. "Okay."

Bridger set a hand on her knee where she'd pulled it up to her chest. "Don't ever agree to something you secretly don't want, baby. Please. If the idea makes you want to run and hide, we'll just order some things online and figure sizing out as we go."

She leaned her cheek against his knuckles. "Thank you. I think it's fine. I just don't want to talk about what happened to me. Is that okay?"

"Absolutely," Colter responded. "I'll make that clear to Carmen."

Bridger nodded. "The second person we'd like to call is our attorney, Nathaniel. He's been with us for many years. We trust him. We need legal advice."

She inhaled slowly and nodded again. "I'm sure that's a good idea."

Colter rose, leaned over, and kissed her forehead. "I'm going to make those two calls first. I'll be right back."

As he left the room, Bridger stood. "I'm going to get more coffee. We didn't offer you any coffee or tea. Would you like either?"

"I never liked coffee. I used to drink tea."

"Tea it is, then. Want to choose a flavor? We have many. I can pick one for you, or maybe you prefer black."

"You pick," she said.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek before striding across the room. Both men were so affectionate. She felt cherished by them, and it relaxed her every time they touched her.

As she watched Bridger prepare their drinks, she thought about what Colter had said earlier. He'd made it clear they were attracted to her, and at the same time, he'd reassured her they would never pressure her or act on their attraction.

She wasn't sure she wanted them to hold back. A part of her ached for decent human contact. Anything that would erase what she'd been through or at least start chipping away at it. She'd never have the guts to ask them to help her with that side of things.