Free Twice the Touch by Cara Dee

place. In San Fran, like so many other major cities, you don’t ever turn down an apartment. There's no such thing as, "Nah—it's in my price range, but it's too big; let's look around some more."
    When people die, real estate agents send flowers thanking them for a new gold mine. They're like vultures. But yeah, I got lucky. A friend of my dad's wanted to get out of the city, so I headed straight to the bank to sign papers. 'Cause even as financially independent I am, you'd have to be a millionaire to own a condo with a private rooftop terrace. 
    A rooftop terrace where I plan to make Brayden and Evangeline scream one day.
    Presumptuous? I'm not so sure. We just might fit together. D/s relationship, strictly speaking. Of course. No love—bullshit like that.
    When the doorbell rings again, it's seven PM on the dot, and I nod to myself, pleased, and walk straight for the hallway that separates the kitchen and living room from the two bedrooms and the master suite. In the hallway, there's also a guest toilet and a too-fucking-small laundry room. I curse it every time I'm in there, because it wasn’t built for a man of six foot four.
    Opening the door, I'm granted with the sight of two unbelievably attractive people on their knees . Eyes downcast. Motherfucking hell . We didn’t discuss this—for them to greet me this way, I mean. I haven't told them what to wear, either, which means…they're only out to please me. Fuck me . Warmth courses through my body as I let my eyes drink them in.
    The black lingerie set, stockings included, Evange line's wearing makes my mouth water. The push-up bra and panties, both in the same see-through material, are lined with black fur, matching the pointy kitty ears on her head. My little kitten . And on her feet she wears black ballet flats. Demure. Sexy and cute. Not sexy and superior. Good choice.
    T he only thing missing, I note as I step out into the hall, is a tail. But I'm more than happy to provide one for her. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find a butt plug with fur for a tail similar to the kind lining her lingerie.
    A voice in the back of my head whispers that she's missing another item, too : a kitty collar. One that says "Master Cooper's kitten," I decide right then and there.
    Glancing over at Brayden, I'm just as satisfied with what I see. He's only in black silk boxers—not as elaborate an outfit as Evangeline's, but equally sexy.
    Before I walk back into my condo, I pick up two discarded jackets, pairs of jeans, a set of sneakers, and one duffle bag. All of it is dropped on the floor just inside the door; focusing on my two subs is more important. Understatement .
    Squatting down to their level, I inspect them for traces of arousal, and I'm happy to find several. Brayden is semi-hard beneath the silk, and his chest heaves with rapid breaths. A few locks of dark hair have fallen down his forehead, so I can't see his eyes, but that’s all right. For now. And Evangeline…oh, she's too horny for words. My mouth quirks up; I see how her nipples strain against the sheer fabric, how goose bumps appear on her skin, how badly she wants to press her thighs together, and how a pink flush spreads over her chest and cheeks.
    " Very beautiful." I reach out to cup her left cheek. It almost blazes with heat, and knowing that any of my neighbors could walk out in the hall at any moment only makes it hotter. Maybe not the cheek, but sure as hell the situation. "So…" My free hand goes to Brayden's jaw, and I brush my thumb over the slight stubble. "If Evangeline is my kitten, does that make you my puppy?"
    He shudders, and when I look down, I see the bulge growing slightly in his boxers.
    This is a perfect opportunity to learn what they like, because I don’t think they're into the same things. They're two individuals, even if they come as a pair. Taking a guess, I'd say Evangeline has only fooled herself into thinking she's not into pain. I saw that last Sunday at my brother's