“It’ll be just a few minutes for us to pick up Braydon, and then about a twenty-minute drive to the restaurant.”
I nodded. “Fine.” I focused on my drink, suddenly unable to meet his eyes at the mention of Braydon’s name. Why should I feel guilty for wanting this? It wasn’t cheating since Ben approved and he’d be there with us. Nor was I in a real relationship with Ben. Besides, I wasn’t entirely certain that anything would even happen.
The alcohol on my empty stomach had an immediate effect, relaxing me despite the quiet intensity radiating off Ben. He didn’t once take his eyes off me.
When we arrived at Braydon’s hotel, he opened the door and climbed in, choosing to sit beside Ben so they were both facing me.
“Damn, jellybean.” His eyes roamed my exposed skin, taking in my dress and heels.
I smiled shyly while Ben handed him a bottle of beer, seeming to anticipate his drink of choice.
“She looks good enough to eat,” he told Ben, accepting the drink and taking a long sip, his eyes never leaving mine. “I bet she tastes even better.”
A zip of heat flashed up my spine.
“She’s fucking delicious. Sweetest pussy I’ve ever had,” Ben whispered, his husky voice dropping lower as his eyes traveled along my cleavage once again.
Braydon swallowed roughly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Is she bare?”
“Completely. She’s soft and smooth.” Ben’s voice was a low growl.
Oh. My. God. My pulse hammered behind my ears. They were talking about my lady parts like I wasn’t even here!
Ben moved across the limo, settling on the seat beside me. His fingertips moved to my neck, trailing softly and tilting my jaw so he could press his lips to my fluttering pulse. He laid delicate, damp kisses all along my jaw and throat. His lips moved up my neck, kissing my cheeks softly before pressing a tender kiss to my mouth.
My eyes slipped closed, enjoying the attention. Ben’s coarse cheek against my skin sent sparks of heat between my legs. When I opened my eyes, rather than looking at Ben, who continued softly kissing me all over, my gaze wandered to Braydon, on the seat across from us. His beer sat abandoned in the cup holder and the growing erection in his dress pants was obvious. He was enjoying the show.
Ben’s hands moved to untie the ribbon behind my neck, and my heart slammed wildly in my chest. Panic gripped me but I was too turned on to stop him. Once I was exposed to Braydon, I knew there’d be no going back. But I didn’t want to stop this. Ben’s deft fingers did away with the tie and lightly caressed my skin as the halter top was unfastened.
Braydon’s deep, penetrating gaze slipped from mine to watch as the dress dropped away from my chest. My breasts, aching and heavy, responded instantly to the cool air conditioning, my nipples hardening.
Ben’s eyes met mine as his hands lovingly cupped my breasts, softly stroking his thumbs across my nipples as he watched my reaction. I pulled in a shaky breath, sucking my bottom lip into my mouth.
Hitting the button for the intercom, Braydon spoke in Italian to the driver, telling him to keep driving, I presumed. Then he came to my other side. I was flanked by two gorgeous men. Never in my wildest dreams had I ever imagined being part of a scene like this, but I was undeniably turned on and excited by the idea of it.
I’d assumed we’d take things slowly, share conversation, dinner, plenty of drinks to up my courage, giving me time to feel out the situation and see if I wanted more. Apparently, they were not okay with waiting. But the damp spot in my panties told me neither was I.
Braydon’s hand cupped my breast and he rolled my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, emitting a soft groan when his palm made contact with my plump flesh. “Can I taste you, jellybean?” The top of my dress rested in my lap, my breasts fully exposed.
I nodded and watched as he lowered his head, his mouth softly closing around the tip of my breast and suckling gently. His warm tongue licked me in easy strokes while Ben moved in to kiss my neck once again. Ben’s warm mouth moving against my neck, and Braydon’s damp tongue teasing my nipples, was all too much. I squirmed in the seat, whimpering loudly, and gripped a hand on each of their thighs. There was no denying they were both rock hard in their dress slacks.
Ben broke away from the kiss—his breathing accelerated and eyes filled with desire. Braydon slowed his movements, kissing and nibbling each of my breasts while Ben lifted my skirt to find the lacy edge of my thong. He tugged it down to my knees and over my calves, carefully disentangling it from my heels. Then he stuffed it into his suit coat pocket without a word. His eyes held mine and I nearly whimpered at how sexy he was when he was in control like this. I was his to use as he saw fit. And I knew he’d take care of me and make me feel good.
With the dress bunched around my waist, Ben pushed my thighs apart and Braydon trailed ticklish fingertips up my inner thigh. I’d never been intimate with someone I barely knew, but somehow I already felt comfortable around Braydon. He was open and sweet and he’d helped me selflessly the other night with Ben. I already had a certain level of trust with him, and of course he was exquisitely gorgeous. Where Ben was dark and intense, Braydon was open and friendly.
Ben’s fingers spread my plump lips, revealing my pink center, and Braydon groaned. “Fuck, that’s a beautiful pussy.”
I looked down, feeling self-conscious about being so exposed and quite obviously turned on—I was glistening wet.
Braydon’s large palm slid up my thigh, stopping just before he reached my sex. He’d paused to gauge my reaction. My eyelids fluttered in weak desperation, and taking that as a sign of reassurance, the pad of his thumb brushed against me. I shivered as the rough digit swept circles around my swollen clit.
“I want to watch you come, see this beautiful pussy get nice and wet.” Braydon’s voice was deep and washed in desire.
I loved knowing how hot I was getting these two men without even touching them. I nodded and his hand cupped my sex, his palm pressing against my clit. Pleasure shot through me. He slowly slid one finger inside me, groaning as his first then second knuckle disappeared inside as though the act of penetrating me was physically torturing him.
Ben laved attention on my breasts, sucking and licking more greedily than Braydon had. I curled my fingers in his hair and moaned. The action pushed my hips closer into Braydon’s hand and his pace increased.
Between Ben’s wicked mouth teasing my breasts and Braydon’s fingers pumping into me, my orgasm came hard and fast, slamming against me unexpectedly.
Tossing my head back against the cool leather seat, four hands held me steady as little tremors racked my body. Ben’s mouth crashed into mine, our tongues tangling as I let out a final cry of pleasure.
Holy shit, that was intense.
More intense than anything I’d ever experienced. And all they’d done was kiss and touch me in a few strategic places. I needed to pull it together. Ben pulled my thong from his pocket and slid it back up my legs, dropping one more soft kiss on my mouth.
The limo stopped and a smooth male voice spoke over the intercom. Braydon pressed a button and answered the driver in fluent Italian. Ben handed me my purse and took my hand. This was like a well-orchestrated event and I was the main attraction. It was almost too much. It bothered me how proficient they were at this. It was quite obvious other women had been treated to this same ecstasy.
Ben watched me with guarded eyes, checking to make sure I was okay with what had just happened, and I pushed the silent doubts away, determined to make the most of my magical night.
Ben helped me from the car, my legs still shaky, and guided me toward the door while Braydon trailed behind. Ben laced his fingers between mine, the action somehow possessive. Even if he was willing to share me with Braydon, our joined hands said we were a couple.
I felt at ease as we entered the beautifully decorated restaurant. Light tones in creams and whites contrasted the dark mahogany floor. The lighting was dim; Just scattered sconces and soft glowing candles dotted each linen-clothed tabletop.
I felt a little self-conscious being out with two men, like everyone knew what we were up to, what had just happened in the limo. But, of course, they didn’t. They were probably just ogling these two male models. And who could blame them? Braydon and Ben glided across the floor like they owned the place. I merely tried not to call attention to my trembling legs and still-flushed cheeks.
Ben pulled out my chair, and he and Braydon waited until I’d slid into the seat before gracefully lowering themselves into their own, like all of our moves were coordinated. Their eyes, still heavy with desire, watched my every move. As the server came by to fill our water goblets, I couldn’t help but wonder if they were each still hard and ready under the table.
I could hardly focus on the menu with the memory of our erotic limo ride still clouding my senses. Somehow I heard Ben suggest the filet and an accompanying glass of red wine. I merely nodded. It sounded delicious, even if my appetite was nowhere to be found.
Our drinks were delivered—a bottle of red wine for me and Ben, and a tall glass of beer for Braydon. He made me smile. It seemed that regardless of his opulent surroundings, he was comfortable in his skin. He’d removed his suit jacket and rolled his shirtsleeves to his elbows. Ben remained the epitome of classic handsome sophistication. Forget the filet, he made my mouth water.
Even if they were both sexy models with truckloads of self-confidence, Braydon and Ben were each very different. As we talked, I learned Braydon’s upbringing mirrored mine: two loving parents, suburban home, and public school education. Rather than starting in modeling right away, he went to a university for two years before being discovered at the university gym.
“I began small, doing photo shoots for fitness magazines, which eventually led to national campaigns and now international work as well,” Braydon explained while peeling at the label of his bottle of beer. He’d refused the pint glass he’d been offered, much to the server’s dismay. “Shortly after, I left college, no longer passionate about the business degree I was pursuing, and started living out of a suitcase, traveling the world for various modeling jobs.”
“How did the two of you meet?” I looked between them, wondering who would answer.
Ben nodded once to Bray.
“Our paths crossed numerous times over the past several years, usually Fashion Week in Milan or Paris, and of course New York City. We started hanging out and just sort of clicked.”
I nodded. I could see that they were comfortable around each other, even if they were quite different. Ben was more reserved, an observer, and when he coolly raked the room with those brilliant hazel eyes fringed in dark lashes, women and men alike took notice. Maybe it was because it seemed like he’d pose a challenge, or because they just wanted to see him direct that haunted gaze their way, but he had women clamoring for him, trying to get him to smile, and men wanting to strike up a casual conversation. He just didn’t seem real somehow. He was too stunningly handsome.
Our meal was delivered and my nerves settled just slightly.
“So how long have you two been together?” Braydon asked as we ate.
I expected Ben to correct him. To tell him we weren’t together.
“About a month now,” Ben said instead, his knee brushing mine under the table.
I forced the piece of meat down my throat.
Interesting
. . .
When dessert was offered, I opted for a berry torte. Ben and Braydon passed, each looking at me hungrily. Oh my, apparently I was on their dessert menu later. The thought was dizzying. The way Ben watched me take slow, tentative bites of the torte made me wonder if he thought I was purposely drawing out our meal. And maybe I was; but the truth was, this dessert shouldn’t be rushed. Sweet berries burst on my tongue and the flaky pastry was light enough to melt in my mouth. It was heaven.
“What made you change your mind?” Braydon asked, polishing off the last of his beer. “I thought you said you didn’t share Emmy.”
Ben exhaled slowly, his gaze settling on mine. “Tonight is for her. Whatever she wants.”
Braydon nodded slightly.
All too soon, we’d finished our drinks and Ben paid the check. Then he rose to help me from my chair. Which was good because I didn’t think my legs could be counted on to work properly just then. I pulled a deep breath into my lungs, wondering how the rest of tonight would play out.
Ben
Emmy was silent on the limo ride back to our hotel. And I was grateful for Braydon’s nonstop chatter on the latest basketball stats for his favorite team. It wasn’t something I followed, but I appreciated his effort to fill the silence. I had no fucking clue what I was doing. The idea of anyone else touching Emmy was fucking giving me a migraine. She’d come so easily for Braydon, and I knew that shouldn’t bother me, but it did. I could tell how proud of himself he’d been, that smug smile on his face. My hands had clenched into fists with the desire to wipe it from his face.
Shit. I’d agreed to this—for her—but damn if I wasn’t having doubts. I needed to man-the-fuck-up. She wasn’t mine. I’d told her that time and again. This shouldn’t matter to me. Yet it did. It’d be a serious lesson in restraint to keep from punching Braydon in the jaw when he touched her later. Even the way his hand reached for her, resting against her lower back as we led her to and from the car, annoyed me. How was I going to handle him putting his dick anywhere near her?
I poured myself another healthy measure of vodka and downed it, hoping to turn off my brain for the night. It clearly wasn’t working correctly. It wasn’t the head I was supposed to be thinking with, anyhow.
I met Emmy’s wide eyes from across the limo. Her breathing was shallow and fast, and her eyes moved between each of our forms. She didn’t seem bothered by what had happened earlier—more like turned on, curious, and eager. I both liked that and didn’t. She was this sweet girl from Tennessee, loving and tender, but with a naughty side, too. It was confusing as hell.