Working It

I just needed to shut off my brain and let my body take the lead.



• • •



Ben and I hadn’t talked about Braydon again, but several days later an envelope was delivered to my room midmorning. I slid out the thick notecard.



Join Braydon and me for dinner and drinks—8pm—Grand Capri



I’ll send a car for you at 7:45



Ben



He wasn’t asking. He was telling. But before I had time to freak out or ponder his intentions, another knock at the door grabbed my attention. The concierge delivered a large box. I carried it inside and placed it on the bed. Lifting the top, and shoving aside mountains of white tissue paper, I discovered a dress. Not just any dress, but an evening gown. My mouth dropped open. It was a Vera Wang: sleek and expensive-looking black silk, halter-style top with built-in bra cups, and a long slit cut up one side. It was a classic style that I knew would still be stylish years from now. I hugged the soft material to my chest, savoring the feel of it. I’d never owned something so pretty.



Moving aside more tissue paper, I lifted a shoebox from the bottom of the package. A pair of shiny black Christian Louboutin platform heels. There was a note inside of the shoes—on a damn Post-it of all things—that said: Only what you can handle.



My blood pumped erratically and a hot shiver ran through my body.



What did that mean? If all I wanted was dinner and then to come back here alone, or just with Ben, that’d be fine? Or if I wanted them both . . . was that on the table too? God, this was awkward. What had he said to Braydon? No. That was crazy. Just because I was a bit curious did not mean I was going to go through with it. I was willing to go out with them tonight, but that was it.



I had all day to ponder these and loads of other questions before my date. But it also afforded me the luxury of time to get ready. I figured a long bath would help me relax and I could devote some much-needed attention to my neglected e-reader. Pity, my mind was spinning.



A text from Ben that afternoon asked how I was feeling.



Me: Nervous



I chuckled at the brutal honesty in my response. So much for playing it cool.



Ben: Don’t be, baby. Remember, only what you can handle



His words did nothing to calm me. He sounded so in control, so certain. I could only hope he was, because I was neither.



Ben: I’m sending someone over to help you get ready. She’ll be there at 5:30—if that’s okay with you . . .



Me: Sure



I wasn’t used to having someone fuss over me, but if Ben thought it would help, this was his world, and I was just playing in it.



I bathed, shaved, and smoothed sweet-smelling cream on my arms and legs. I had just finished blow-drying my hair when Lucia arrived at five thirty. I was slightly worried she’d just be in my way, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. She quickly took charge, introduced herself with a friendly handshake, then unpacked her black rolling suitcase full of makeup and various hair-styling instruments. She directed me to sit and then assessed my skin and features. I was relieved to hear she spoke fluent English. Ben had thought of everything.



“What type of look would you like?”



I had no idea. “Oh, just something natural.”



“What colors are you wearing tonight?”



“A black dress and shoes.”



She nodded. “Special occasion?”



Heat flooded my cheeks as a wave of embarrassment washed over me. How did I explain my situation with a model who wasn’t quite my boyfriend, yet I wanted him to be . . . and that I’d be going on a date with him and his equally delicious model friend for an apparent threesome? No . . . that wasn’t something you told people. Though I knew Ellie was likely to get it out of me, especially if tequila—or as I liked to call it, truth serum—was ever involved. “Something like that,” I offered.



Lucia applied natural makeup: dusted bronzer across my cheeks and forehead, lined my eyes with charcoal, applied several coats of mascara, and dabbed my lips in rosy-pink gloss before handing me a mirror. I loved it. I looked elegant and very pretty. Having this special treatment made me feel confident and put together. A small miracle, considering how nervous I was about tonight.



I felt like a princess getting made up for her wedding day. When in actuality, somehow I found myself headed off for a date with two men. I wondered how Ben really felt about this. I knew he wasn’t looking for anything serious with me, but when I’d brought it up, his jaw had gone tense and his whole body posture had changed. Unless I had imagined it.



When I’d learned of his past of sharing women with Braydon, I was surprised more than anything. Heck, I didn’t think that kind of thing actually happened outside of porn videos. I’d never been particularly drawn to the idea of ménage. Yet the idea of Ben, and another man—not just any man, but Braydon—both pleasuring me was like system overload. I couldn’t deny my curiosity.



After my makeup was done, Lucia curled my hair in big, loose waves and ran her fingers through before setting it with hairspray. I never took the time to style it this way, and I loved what she’d done.



After she packed up and left, I took my evening gown into the bathroom to get dressed. Since the style couldn’t accommodate a bra, the only undergarment I put on was a tiny scrap of pink lace, one of the few thongs I’d packed.



The smooth silk glided over my hips and fell into place, brushing the tops of my ankles. I tied the halter straps behind my neck, letting the silky ribbons form a bow. I took in the plunging neckline that hugged my breasts perfectly. I’d been worried about going without a bra, but this seemed to work.



The addition of my little diamond-studded earrings made me feel a little more like me. When I turned to face the mirror, I barely recognized the girl staring back. She looked sophisticated, confident and sexy. Inside, my emotions were a mess of nerves and insecurity. But at least it didn’t show on my face.



I shoved my feet inside the beautiful pumps and wiggled my toes. The peep toe opening showed a glimpse of my red toenail polish. I was ready as I’d ever be.



Ben arrived alone in a black limousine. I was grateful for that. I didn’t think I could handle seeing him and Braydon together quite yet. He stepped out of the limo and greeted me on the curb. He looked dashing—smart and sinfully sexy in a black Armani suit and black shirt open at the neck to expose his sexy throat. The dark clothing made his eyes stand out, shining brighter than usual and looking more green than hazel today.



He bent to kiss my cheek, and the intoxicating scent of his cologne washed over me. “You look lovely,” his whispered, sending a shiver down my spine. His gaze lingered at my breasts, which were squeezed together by the form-fitting dress, before his eyes finally lifted and settled on mine.



“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I asked.



“This is for you, Emmy. It can be anything you want.”



I couldn’t help but notice he didn’t answer the question. His hand on the small of my back led me to the limo and I climbed inside. It was dimly lit and spacious—the smell of leather and a trace of Ben’s cologne were waiting for me inside.



Sitting down across from me, he lifted a bottle of champagne from an ice bucket. “Would you like a glass?”



“Something stronger if you have it,” I murmured, arranging the dress around my legs.



He nodded thoughtfully and poured us each a measure of vodka over ice and added a splash of cranberry juice, almost as an afterthought.



“Thank you,” I said, accepting the glass and taking a sip. Mother, that was strong.



“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.