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Chapter Twelve

I must have rehearsed my lines a thousand times
Until I had them memorized, but when I get up the nerve
To tell you, the words just never seem to come out right
If you only knew how much I do love you
If you only knew how much I do need you

- Patti LaBelle, If you only knew

Renesmee reclined on the plush suede sofa in the library of the Black mansion, reading a leather-bound classic from one of the shelves that lined the wall. She sat naked, as the rules demanded of her, save her collar. She'd become accustomed to her nudity and, knowing it pleased Jacob and Jake, she no longer found a reason to complain. But she wasn't sure if anything else was pleasing them lately.

Over the past few days since their shopping expedition, things had been . . . different. Strange. There was a slight crackle of tension between the brothers, and she knew she was the cause. Knew it had something to do with the mortifying situation at the restaurant.

Jacob refused to even broach the subject when she tried to talk to him about it. He simply said that she still had a lot to learn. But he wouldn't explain what that might be, and for the life of her, no matter how hard she racked her brain, she just couldn't figure it out.

So, she hadn't volunteered any sexual favors since crawling from beneath that table, and they hadn't demanded any. But nor did they offer any. She was beginning to wonder why, exactly, she was here. Even the morning fellatio that had been expected for the first week wasn't demanded. Other than the lack of clothing, she was treated like an equal member of the household. She ate at the table with them, watched television in the evening, sat with one or the other in the library reading, while they worked at the computer . . . .

She laid the book aside and rested her head against the sensually soft suede.

She didn't know what to do. She didn't understand any of it. Figuring Jake might be better to get answers from than Jacob, yesterday afternoon she'd tried getting him to talk while Jacob had to leave the house on business for a few hours.

He'd sat with her, even held her on his lap, and ran his big, soothing hands down her back. Kissed her so sweetly she'd almost burst into tears. But when she tried discussing what was going on, why Jacob was giving her the cold shoulder, Jake only shook his head. When she'd looked into his eyes, she'd seen lust there. Those rich chocolate eyes had crackled with it. And the hard bulge against her hip couldn't be mistaken for anything but hell of a hard-on. When she'd touched his face and tried to kiss him, he'd turned his head and kissed her cheek, whispering, "What's your heart's desire, kitten . . . for lunch? I'm starved." Then he'd set her on her feet and led her to the kitchen.

That's the last time she bothered to attempt talking to either of them. A small part of her feared that they thought they'd made a mistake with her. Kat's comment about them shooting for the stars kept coming back to her at odd times. Had they maybe thought she was their star only to discover she wasn't? Because she'd been so obstinate those first few days? She'd tried to change, had done what she thought they wanted . . .

She curled up on her side and let out a slow breath.

And then Jacob had rejected her efforts.

But even more confounding was what happened each night. They joined her in bed, one on each side, stark naked, just like the first night she'd asked to be held. Even though Jacob barely touched her during the day, giving her only a cursory good morning kiss and a pat of what felt like affection here and there throughout the day, he pulled her into his arms each night, held her in a tight embrace as if . . . As if he never wanted to let her go.

Her eyelids slowly slid closed. The sun streaming in the floor-to-ceiling window warmed her and made her feel lazy. One thing she could get used to, she thought as she yawned, was the relaxation she felt here. The lack of responsibility to the outside world. Even if the pleasures didn't include sex, there was definite pleasure to be found in the slow ticking of the clock, the leisurely strolls through the high-walled garden.

When she first arrived, her phone calls to work had been nearly two hours long each day. Today she was only on for fifteen minutes, just enough to check her messages. Too bad she only had a few days left before returning to the world she knew and understood. Next year she'd definitely take a vacation.

They'd given her free reign of the house today, while they went on what they called a business errand. Her only instruction was that she stay nude, except for the collar, and remain indoors while they were gone, a command she found easy to follow. She should have couple hours to catch a snooze . . .

Familiar voices made her jerk upright. As their footsteps neared the room, she smiled, but that quickly vanished when she saw a fully clothed stranger walk in with her masters. She shrieked and leapt behind the sofa, ducking her body out of view of the woman wearing hospital scrubs.

"She's quick," the woman observed with an amused smile.

"You can set up on the back patio. Jake will show you where. We'll be out in a moment."

As Jake showed the woman out, Jacob crossed his arms over his chest. "Is that the way you are to greet us whenever we enter a room?"

"N-no, Master." She cast a wary glance at the door and moved around the chair to kneel in front of him.

Though she was treated as an equal member of the household most of the time, she amended her earlier thoughts, there were still things they demanded. Whenever one of them had been gone from the house, when they returned she was to assume her submissive position until they released her.

She still didn't get it, not really. But she kind of liked it in a weird way. For an executives who demanded respect of each and every one of her employees, she understood they guys' need for authority. And she liked giving it to them.

"That's better." His hand rested on her head in an affectionate manner, as if she really were a beloved pet here to greet him at the door. "Remember, puss, the rules apply no matter who is present. I'll forgive you this time, because we caught you unaware and this is your first offense, but don't let it happen again."

"Yes, Master." She hadn't been punished since that first morning, but a tingle went through her when she remembered what happened after the punishment. That incredible multiple orgasms. The way both men had treated her so tenderly after. She wanted that once again. All of it.

Hmm, she thought. If she misbehaved, maybe . . .

"Come. We have a surprise for you."

He tucked a finger through the D-ring on her collar as she rose to her feet, then led her through the house. The closer they got to the patio, the more hesitant she became.

Their backyard was several acres surrounded by high wall and thick foliage, which ensured privacy. She hadn't felt nervous on past excursions to the pool, but knowing a visitor awaited them made her insides swirl.

Apparently sensing her turmoil, Jacob released her collar and took her hand, lifting it to his mouth for a kiss before opening the French doors.

She scanned the patio area and quickly found the woman and Jake near a rectangular table covered in white sheets. Renesmee dropped her gaze. It was just easier that way.

Jake said, "Almost set. I'll go get the rest of your supplies, but first . . . Angela Patterson, this is Renesmee Cullen, out pet. Renesmee, greet out guest."

"Hello, Angela," she said, squeezing Jacob's hand like a lifeline.

"A pleasure to meet you, and please call me Angie."

Renesmee glanced up to see the welcoming smile on the woman's face. No censure. No curiosity. It was as if she'd expected to see her buck-naked.

"Jake," Angela said, stopping him as he headed toward the door. "If you could heat up some towels for me, please? You can bring them out here in the silver warmer I left in the car. Thanks."

He saluted with a grin and left, making Renesmee take a closer look at this Angie Patterson. She was a young, petite woman who stood an inch or so shorted than Renesmee. Impeccably groomed, she wore her frosted hair pulled back in a ponytail and had a demeanor that put people at ease. Not once did she let her gaze drop below eye level, and that helped Renesmee relax.

"Angie is a certified esthetician and massage therapist," Jacob informed. "Normally, she doesn't do house calls but, being friends, we were able to persuade her."

"I couldn't miss the opportunity to meet you," Angie said, holding out a hand.

Surprised, Renesmee released Jacob to shake hands with Angie, wondering whether she'd fallen down a rabbit hole into another realm.

"Have you ever gone to spa?"

"No." With her busy work schedule, she'd never had time for such frivolous pursuits.

Angie grinned. "They're paying for the full package, so you're in for a treat. I promise, once you've experienced true pampering, you'll be addicted."

Renesmee didn't know what to say.

Jake showed up with arms loaded, and Angie situated the items where she wanted them.

"Hop up on the table and lie face down, okay?" She patted the tabletop. As Renesmee moved into place, laying her head on folded arms, Angie added, "I need the collar removed."

Jacob took the key from around his neck and unfastened the padlock. When the collar's weight vanished, Renesmee felt engulfed by emptiness. For one illogical second, she wanted to scream for them to put it back on. It had become part of her, the part that connected her to these men. Without it she . . . She buried her face in her arms. What kind of thought was that? Without it she was nothing?

What were these men doing to her head?

Angie laid a warm towel across her hips, restoring some of her modesty.

"Spoilsport," Jacob said, and there was no mistaking the teasing quality in his tone. She peeked up at him and caught him smiling, a smile she hadn't seen in days.

Her heart thudded against her ribs. What had changed? What was going on? Should she be frightened by the turn in his demeanor? It wasn't fear she was feeling, but an incredible sense of excitement.

Angie laughed. "Scoot, you two. I'll take care of her."

"I know you will, because we intend to stay and watch."

Renesmee looked up to see Angela frown, then shrug. "Suit yourself, but if you're going to stay, be quite. This is her time."

Jacob gave her a noble nod before sitting in a chair a few feet away. Jake joined him moments later.

"Close your eyes and tune everything and everyone else out for a while. Here you go." Angie put a small headset over her ears. The soft sound of panpipes and drums slowed around her, and she couldn't help but relax and close her eyes.

Angela began on Renesmee's hands and arms, clipping her nails, cutting cuticles, and massaging her forearms.

"This is called paraffin," Angie said with a lift to one earphone. After thoroughly rubbing each hand and every finger, she repositioned them so that they dipped into containers filled with the warm, citric scented wax. After three dips, each hand went inside a plastic bag and a large, spa-style mit.

Next the therapist kneaded her neck, shoulder and back muscles, working in oils with concentrated pressure. Renesmee slowly slipped into the pleasant dimension between sleep and awake, where everything's fuzzy and unfocused. She felt as if her body were floating.

Renesmee stirred when Angie pulled her hands out and removed the paraffin, then took off the headphones.

"Time to turn over for the facial and waxing."

"Mmm hmm," she murmured before her mind registered Angie's words.

"I was going to do your legs, but you don't have enough growth on them to be of any benefit."

"What?" She raised her head.

"Turn over please."

Renesmee turned over.

"Do you shave or use a depilatory?"

"I, uh . . . I use a cream in the shower."

"That's fine. We'll just do the Brazilian then, but first your facial."

She started to reach for a warm towel, but Renesmee grabbed her wrist. "Could you repeat that?"

"Let go, kitten," Jacob stood next to her table.

"I don't —"

"Lie down and behave." His hands pressed against the center of her chest and gently pinned her onto her back. "Tell us what you don't want, puss. Tell us what you do what."

She wrinkled her brow and stared at him. His jaw set firm, he looked too serious to be discussing a damn spa treatment. "I don't want any hair ripped out of my body . . . Master," she added belatedly. "I am perfectly capable of shaving whatever needs to be shaved . . ." His jaw ticked once. ". . . to please you."

His eyes softened, the pressure he'd been placing against her breastbone eased, and then he nodded. "No waxing today, Angie. Shall we continue with the facial, kitten?"

Renesmee glanced at Angie who stood by, watching their conversation. "Yes, please."

As he withdrew his hand from her, his fingertips lightly grazed over her right nipple, which caused her to suck in a breath in surprise and instant need.

Jacob raised an eyebrow at her as if in question, but she didn't know what that question might be. Did he expect her body not to respond to his touch? A touch she hadn't felt in days?

When he grazed the back of his fingers over her nipple and then skimmed them down her belly, her entire body tensed, and she pressed her thighs together. His gaze was deep and piercing as he watched her face, as if gauging her reaction to his touch. When those fingers trailed over her and down her thigh, a tiny whimper escaped her. Pleasure coursed through her body at his feather‐light touch, even as mortification swamped her because Angela, a perfect stranger and a woman, was standing not two feet away watching.

"All you must do, my sweet kitten, is tell us what you desire. If it is in our power to give to you, it will be yours."

Please! She bit her lip and closed her eyes. No way. No way. No way. She couldn't possibly say the words, even though she wanted it—him—more than anything. Not with this woman standing here. She wasn't that much of a deviant nympho.

Jacob's fingers tickled over her knee, then down her calf. When he reached the top of her foot, she jerked and burst out laughing. Jacob chuckled.

"Go ahead," he told Angie.

Renesmee relaxed again as a mud mask was applied. She forced her confusion into the background and enjoyed the pampering.

"While I complete the facial, would you gentlemen like to apply some lotion?" Angie asked with a chuckle. "Even though she bypassed the waxing, you're still paying for it, so you may as well reap the benefits."

With something cool and moist over her eyes, Renesmee couldn't see anything, but heard the men moving toward her. Excitement zinged through her again at just the thought of their hands on her. Warm lotion dribbled onto her skin. While gentle fingers and large hands rubbed the silky cream into her legs, another pried her fisted hands open and massaged them.

Angie completed her facial with several minutes of light circular massage and an application of a cool toner. But Renesmee's senses weren't worried about her face, they were concentrated solely on her men, her masters. Four hands traveling over her body in a tender, yet firm gliding motion.

Her breathing grew deep, labored almost, as she battled to maintain her decency, yet take every single touch and treasure it. She wasn't sure who was where. She kept her eyes closed, not wanting to see Angie, wanting to forget the woman. Wanting to be alone with her masters.

When a finger slipped inside her pussy, Renesmee's eyes shot open and a low groan slipped from her lips.

"You're so soft . . . and wet, my kitten."

At Jacob's words, her face flamed. She glanced at Angie, but the woman was busy packing away her things, her back to them.

"Thank you, Angie, for a superb job," Jake said.

Jacob slowly withdrew his finger from her throbbing pussy, dragging ever so lightly over her clit.

She bit her lip to stifle her moan.

"Renesmee, why don't you wait in the pool while we help Angie with her things?" Jacob's question, delivered with a slight tap to the thigh, wasn't a request, so she got up and headed for the pool, more than ready to escape.

She dove into the deep end and wondered how long she could hide underwater. At least until Angie left?

Her traitorous body. There was no way to keep it from responding to Jacob and Jake. It didn't matter where they were or who was around. They controlled her in every sense of the word.

The thought was a bit frightening. But kind of exciting, too.

She surfaced and sucked air into her lungs, then swam laps for good measure, doing her best to wear her body out, use up the adrenaline, or endorphins, or whatever the hell was making her feel so incredibly horny.

And why had Jacob decided to touch her in such an intimate way now, when he hadn't done it for days?

She was on her fourth lap when she felt the concussion of two splashes. Her feet reached for the bottom as she stood to look around. Jacob and Jake resurfaced on either side of her, spraying her as they shook the water from their heads.

"Hey!"

Jacob cut her off. His mouth claimed hers while one of his hands combed through her wet hair, the other spanning her back.

Jake's nude body slid up behind her, and his arms wrapped around her, his hands cupping both breasts. He kissed her shoulder, her neck, her ear.

Thank God! Whatever punishment they'd been handing her was finally over. She prayed she never again repeated whatever her transgression had been. Being pushed away by them, not being touched, fondled, petted, had been the worst torment she'd ever experienced.

When Jacob's mouth released hers so he could suckle her breast that Jake held, she thrust her chest forwards. "Thank you, Masters," she said on a moan. "Ahhh. Thank you."

Sneak preview of the next chapter:

His arms moved around her, pulling her close, cradling her against his chest. But he broke the kiss and buried his face against her neck, his breathing labored. She could feel his cock straining his slacks, a solid presence against her trembling belly.

"Jacob," she whispered. "I . . ." I love you, damn it! I need you. How could she say it?

He'd made it clear she wasn't to pursue his pleasure. The humiliation of the restaurant still haunted her. And she couldn't ask for what she needed. She wanted to, but how could she ask him to love her without sounding pathetically desperate? She'd tried to earn his love by pleasuring him, but that had backfired. Candidly, she wanted him to love her as strongly as she loved him.

"What, kitten? Tell me." He pulled back, cupping her cheek in his large, lukewarm hand. His dark eyebrows rose in expectancy. He looked anxious to hear . . . something. His eyes were bright, and a small smile of thrill but uncertainty tipped his lips.

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