Chapter 21

A week later…

"I could do that, you know," Summer taunted from her seat on the kitchen island, watching Colter cook bacon and eggs while Bridger poured coffee and juice.

Colter twisted around to shoot her his usual glare. "Or you could sit there like a good girl, wearing my T-shirt, swinging your legs, and smelling like you just came."

She flushed. She always flushed when they spoke freely about sex. They were two of the most frustrating men on the planet, too. They nearly always insisted she make herself orgasm. Sometimes, they touched her while she masturbated, but mostly, they watched.

They'd also purchased about a dozen or more new toys in the past week. She'd tried out most of them. She was insatiable and making up for lost time. No one ever denied her release.

Bridger set a glass of orange juice next to her, spread her legs, and pushed his body against the edge of the island between her knees. He eased the T-shirt up to expose her, but there was too much space between them for anything to make contact with her pussy.

He leaned in and kissed her neck. "I love the smell of your body after you orgasm."

She giggled when his day-old beard tickled her skin.

"I love the sound of your laughter," Colter added.

She'd stopped asking them to have sex with her. They'd given her a firm no. It was off the table and out of the question.

"Nathaniel is coming this morning," Bridger informed her. "You'll need to wear clothes." He lifted a brow, his expression serious.

She gave a sharp nod. "Yes, Sir."

Colter spun around, waving a spatula before pointing it at her. "Sassy," he said in his stern voice. He couldn't quite pull off stern with her, though. His dimples came out, and the corners of his eyes wrinkled.

"Carmen is coming later, too."

Summer groaned. "Again? Is she bringing more clothes?" Carmen had been there four times. She would flit into the penthouse with her arms full, fuss around Summer until she was satisfied, and then leave with a lighter load. By now, the woman was sure she had nailed Summer's style.

Summer had never had a style in her life. The only times she'd been dressed up had been when she'd performed with her parents, and at those events, she'd worn whatever she'd been told without caring.

Carmen thought she had it figured out, though, and Summer liked her, so she politely agreed. She also stripped out of whatever masterpiece Carmen left her in seconds after she stepped into the elevator and put on one of the guy's T-shirts—not a clean one. She liked to find one on the floor or dangling out of the hamper.

Bridger lifted her off the top of the island and set her on one of the stools as Colter brought over steaming plates of food. He tapped her nose. "Eat. Then you're going to shower and put clothes on."

"Maybe we could negotiate a deal," she taunted. It was shocking how bold she was with them, as if she'd known them for a decade and had lived with them almost that long. She might not have known her clothing style yet, but she had developed a bit of a personality.

Her sassy side was her favorite, mainly because it elicited the best reaction from the guys—eye rolling, groaning, hard glares, and usually empty threats.

Bridger laughed as he sat on one side of her and pointed at her plate. "No deals. Eat."

She squirmed on the stool. The T-shirt wasn't even under her butt cheeks. "You haven't even heard my deal suggestion." She pushed out her bottom lip in a fake pout.

Oh, yeah, she'd mastered the sassy fake pout, too.

Colter growled his fake disapproval as he grabbed her chin, brushed his lips over hers, and pointed at her plate. "Eat."

"First, my deal." She sat up straight. There was something so refreshing about disobeying them. It was like she needed to go in the polar opposite direction of everything she'd been trained to do: argue, taunt, tempt, pout, and sass. Maybe she'd add whining soon, though that seemed overboard.

She looked from one man to the other. "How about I agree to put clothes on if you agree to shower with me."

Colter laughed. "Not a chance, temptress."

Bridger lifted her fork and put it in her hand, wrapping her fingers around it. "How about if you eat, shower, and get dressed before your parents' attorney arrives so you aren't flashing the man your assets?"

Gah. When he put it like that… He even referred to the man as her parents' attorney, not their own. "Fine," she sassed. She was starving like she was every morning, and she stabbed into the eggs first.

Thirty minutes later, she was in the bathroom, stripping off her T-shirt while Colter turned on the shower. He smirked at her when he turned around. "You are such a naughty girl." He grabbed her chin, which she loved, and leaned in closer. "Shower."

"Alone?" Oh, she definitely whined a bit.

"Alone," he insisted.

She sighed dramatically. "Fine, but leave the door open in case I need you."

"Always," he responded as he strode out of the room.

Summer stepped into the warm spray of water and closed her eyes. It was luxurious. She was kidding them every time she asked them to stay. She'd gotten over her fear of being in the bathroom alone several days ago.

She enjoyed taking long showers or baths. Hot water was a luxury she would never take for granted again. That and floral-scented soap and shampoo. That and running her hands over her own body. That and closing her eyes and fondling herself. Luxuries.

Colter and Bridger had a business to run. She barely understood what they did, but something about investments. They'd both taken a lot of time off for the past week. One of them was always with her. They took turns leaving to meet with clients.

She kind of liked it when one of them left because whoever it was got all dressed up in a suit. Both men were drool-worthy in suits. She liked to sit on the bench in their closet and watch them get dressed.

They humored her. Always.

Reluctantly, she turned off the water, stepped onto the bathmat, and grabbed a towel. As soon as she was patted dry, she wrapped the towel around her hair and wrung it out.

She'd hung up the towel and was working a comb through her hair when Bridger stepped into the doorway and leaned casually against the frame. His expression was lustful.

"What?" she asked.

"I was just checking to see if it was true."

"If what was true?" She glanced down at her body, wondering what he was talking about.

"If there really was a smoking hot woman standing naked in our bathroom. Sometimes, I think I've surely made it up in my head, and I have to hunt you down to confirm it's true."

She grinned and stalked toward him. "Imagine how I feel," she pointed out as she flattened her palms on his chest. "I'm supposed to be chained to the floor in a damp basement for the rest of my life, servicing whoever comes down and demands the use of my cunt or my ass."

Her blunt words made him shudder as he frowned.

She dropped her forehead to his chest. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."

He slid his hands up her back and pulled her close. "Don't be sorry. You're absolutely right. This has to be far stranger for you than for us."

She drew in a breath and leaned back to meet his gaze again. "You rescued me. You took me into your home. You're doing everything in your power to help me put my life back together again. I can't thank you enough."

Colter stepped into view and set a hand on Bridger's shoulder. "You don't have to thank us, honey. It's our pleasure."

"Are you tired of me yet?" It was her greatest fear. She was exasperating. Surely, they would grow weary of her.

Colter leaned around Bridger and wrapped an arm around both of them. "Never. It won't happen, Summer. You're here for as long as you'll have us. We'll happily keep you for a lifetime, but we won't pressure you to stay."

"Nathaniel is going to bring me an ID and bank cards, isn't he?"

Bridger's breath hitched. "I believe so."

"I should?—"

Colter shook his head and interrupted her. "Nothing changes. You're safest here in the penthouse. We have security. You should do nothing until we're certain it's safe for you to leave, and even then, we will still invite you to stay. You'll always be welcome here."

The thought of moving out of this house or even venturing out for any reason made her stomach ache. She was scared out of her mind that Master J would find her, drag her back, and punish her in ways she couldn't bring herself to describe to them.

She knew what he would do if he learned of her insolence. Every time she thought of it, the blood drained from her body.

"Hey." Colter cupped the back of her head. "You're safe. Whatever you were just thinking, kick it out of your mind."

She nodded. "Okay."

Bridger found her hand, threaded their fingers together, and tugged her into the bedroom. She'd slept in here every night between them. She knew she was putting a damper on their relationship, but she also knew they quietly got release next to her most nights.

She didn't dare let on she knew because she didn't want it to stop. She liked listening to their lovemaking. The hardest part was clenching her legs together to keep from moaning. She knew she could probably rub her clit while they made love, but she was afraid she might cry out when she came. And besides, she hadn't ever gone to sleep without reaching her own release first, anyway.

Their relationship was unconventional, to say the least. Colter dominated Bridger and, to some extent, her in the bedroom. It seeped out into the rest of the house to some degree, too. Both men had helped introduce her to the variety of toys they'd bought her. They usually kissed her senseless until she was so horny she lost her inhibitions and then handed her a toy and leaned back to stroke her skin while she explored.

Did other people do this? Did she care?

She wanted them to fuck her—make love to her—but that was not an option for either of them, so she accepted what they were offering, slept in one of their T-shirts between them, and enjoyed the cocoon they made around her that allowed her to sleep soundly for the first time in years.

She was happy.

She was also scared out of her mind.

Why couldn't things stay the way they were? She didn't want money, credit cards, and an ID. She wanted to live in her own bubble with the two hottest men she'd ever met and pretend the rest of the world didn't exist.

It wasn't fair to Bridger and Colter, though. They had a life. They had put it on hold for her—and they'd given their housekeeper an extended leave of absence. Even though they were paying Marie, that only made Summer feel worse.

Bridger led her into the closet, where they had cleared out an entire section to make room for her clothes.

Colter followed them. He flipped through several hangers before choosing a loose pair of black pants and holding them up. "How about these? They won't rub against you too much. Carmen says they're trendy and stylish. You can wear a blouse with them." He picked up a purple blouse and glanced at the tag. "This one."

Summer giggled. She knew what he'd been looking at. Carmen had put colored dots on the tags to indicate which items would work together. Apparently, he'd guessed correctly.

Bridger opened a drawer and pulled out a bra and panty set. Black lace. There was nothing ordinary in her wardrobe because Carmen hadn't brought anything boring or average.

"Maybe just the bra," Summer suggested as she snagged the delicate lace from his fingers.

Bridger narrowed his gaze and held out the panties. "Both, naughty girl. And be quick. Nathaniel will be here any minute."

Summer preferred it when they stayed in the room or even bent down and put the clothes on her themselves, but she knew she was being clingy and needy. She also knew that, in the long run, she had to learn to take care of herself.

She was making strides in that direction and improving every day.