Working It (Page 24)

Working It (Love by Design #1)(24)
Author: Kendall Ryan

Between Ben’s wicked mouth teasing my br**sts 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.


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 f**king clue what I was doing. The idea of anyone else touching Emmy was f**king 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.

Fuck it. I slammed another drink just as our limousine pulled to a stop. I needed to be more drunk to deal with this shit.



Once inside his hotel room, Ben seemed to need to mark his territory, to claim me as his before anything else took place. While Braydon poured us another drink, Ben lifted me into his arms, held me snugly against his chest, and kissed me deeply. His actions confused me. He was so tender, so loving, it seemed contradictory to what tonight was all about. But I wasn’t about to complain. This was Ben. This was what I’d wanted all along.

He pressed one more soft kiss to my mouth then lowered my feet to the floor. Though with these sky-high heels I was still several inches shorter than him, we were a bit more on a level playing field. The top of my head at least grazed his chin. He kissed my forehead and his eyes locked on mine. I tried to read whatever he was trying to tell me but couldn’t determine whether his haunted gaze was indecision or just concern for me. I swallowed and stepped away.

Braydon turned to face us, directing his attention to Ben. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Ben asked, his voice flat.

I pulled in a shaky breath as Braydon crossed the room to stand directly in front of me. He brushed his fingertips past my jaw and dropped a light kiss to my lips. It was so light, I wondered if I’d imagined the contact. He dropped to his knees and removed my heels one by one. As I stepped out of them, my height was reduced by a good six inches.

“Fun sized,” he said with a chuckle and rose to his feet again.

I smiled at him. He made this feel so easy and relaxed me instantly. It was like we weren’t getting ready to have a threesome, but just three friends hanging out, flirting, and seeing where the night took us. Realistically, I think we all had a good idea where it was headed.

They each softly petted me, smoothing hands up my bare arms, brushing the hair off my neck to tenderly kiss me there, caressing my hips. Ben cupped my bottom and squeezed. Their dual attention was dizzying and turning me on.

Braydon tilted my chin up to meet his eyes. “Are you ready for me?” I let my gaze wander down to the large erection tenting his slacks. “You’ve already got me hard,” he growled.

I bit my lip, sizing up the rather impressive bulge. Braydon gave it a squeeze and adjusted himself.

“I want to see.” I surprised myself by finding my voice.

Braydon smiled lazily and began unbuttoning his pants. “Anything for you, jellybean.” He pressed my hand against the bulge in his pants. “See what you do to me?” I squeezed him and he released a soft groan. He began slowly pulling his belt free from the loops. “You want to see what a real man looks like?”

Ben gave his shoulder a playful shove, and my tummy turned with nerves. My nervousness evaporated as Ben tilted my chin up and kissed me. Sure, it felt a little strange to be kissing one man while I stroked another, but not as strange as I would have thought. It was Ben after all, someone I had totally fallen for, and he and Braydon had done this several times before. It was obviously something they were comfortable with. I loosened up and went with it.

Now free of this belt, Braydon slipped the pants down over his hips. I noticed several things at once: He went commando. His size was comparable to Ben’s. Long and firm, but with a thick vein coursing up his length. Shaved completely. And a silver barbell piercing the head. Whoa.

“What the f**k is that?” Ben asked with a frown, looking at Braydon.

I followed his gaze down to the silver ring piercing the head of Braydon’s cock. “It’s an APA.” Braydon shrugged, like having a piercing down there was no big deal. “I’m not allowed to get piercings or tattoos,” he explained, meeting my eyes.

Except, apparently, on this forbidden part of him. I remained speechless.

“He didn’t have that last time,” Ben explained, turning to me before directing his attention back to Braydon’s offending member. “What the fuck, man? That’s not going to hurt her, is it?”

Braydon laughed and tossed his head back so a rich, throaty chuckle tumbled from his lips. “Fuck no. She’ll be begging you to get one next.” He smiled confidently, his hand reaching down to find his cock, stroking it slowly up and over the head and the piercing.

I had to admit, I was curious. I had no clue how that thing would feel inside me. But I was hesitant to touch him for fear of doing something wrong. He could read the indecision on my face, his eyes zeroing in on my mouth, where my teeth grazed my bottom lip.

“Come here, Emmy,” Braydon whispered, his eyes heavy with desire. “Touch me.”

His hand closed around mine, showing me what he liked. Light grip, long measured strokes moving up and down to caress his whole length, include the piercing. His head dropped back and his eyes slipped closed.

I looked to Ben for his reaction. His face remained calm, his expression unreadable as he watched my eyes. I continued slowly stroking Braydon as his breathing stuttered in his chest. He felt foreign in my hand. His skin was warm, as was the barbell, but he was different. I’d grown used to Ben in these last several weeks.

I felt Ben move behind me. His hands captured my h*ps and he tugged my ass back to greet his hardened length. He untied the knot in my halter dress just like he had in the limo. But this time he let the dress fall away completely so it pooled at my feet. His c*ck nestled into the crevice of my bottom, his hands coming up to cradle and massage my br**sts.

Braydon’s lips moved over my throat and collarbone while Ben’s lips moved against the back of my neck and between my shoulder blades. I’d been so worried over how I could possibly please two men, but the reality of the situation was that they were pleasuring me, treating me like a goddess. Four large hands moving over my skin, two soft mouths pressing damp kisses all over me. The sensations were overwhelming. I released my hold on Braydon to bring my hands up into Ben’s hair as he kissed the back of my neck.

I sensed there was something happening between me and Ben, but I had no idea what. Stop being delusional, Emmy; he’s repeatedly told you he doesn’t want a relationship! I fought to turn off my brain and take Ellie’s advice. Have fun. Don’t get emotionally invested.

Ben slid my thong down my thighs and lowered himself to his knees in front of me, edging Braydon aside. “I get the first taste,” he said to him.