Working It

I couldn’t envision many women rejecting him—something about his confidence, his penetrating eyes, and his blunt mouth. . . . He had a knack for getting what he wanted; of that, I was certain.



His little admission had done several things at once. Intrigued me, ignited a fire in my belly, and set me at complete ease. This man was good. Oh, he was damn good. “Bennn . . .” I whimpered.



“Yeah, beautiful?” His signature cocky smirk was firmly in place.



I squeezed my legs together. Ben using endearing nicknames was enough to undo me. I liked it a little too much.



“Nothing,” I murmured. If I spoke just now, it wouldn’t be pretty. I’d either admit to wanting him or mumble something incoherently dumb. Best to keep my trap shut. I was convinced I was about to do or say something stupid, so I sipped my wine instead. Zip it, crazy lady.



He refilled our wineglasses and continued to study me.



After several minutes, I found my courage again. “So how did you get into modeling?”



Ben met my eyes. “I grew up around it, but my mom wouldn’t let me get involved. She didn’t want me modeling, and wouldn’t let me until I was seventeen. Then she didn’t really have a choice, because I sent my photos off to a couple of agencies in New York. They all ended up being interested, so I started working right away.”



“Why didn’t she want you modeling?” That seemed curious to me, considering his mom was a world-renowned supermodel. “She wanted more for me. She knew the downsides to the lifestyle—constant travel and invariably being judged on your appearance. She didn’t always do well with it. I’m sure you’ve heard of her numerous rehab stays.” His gaze begged me to disagree. I had to look away. Of course I’d heard of Dakota Shaw’s fall from grace.



“I’m sorry. Is she . . .”



“She’s fine now. Living in Australia with a guy my age.” He shook his head like it was a thought he wanted to clear rather quickly.



“So you started working when you were seventeen? That’s really young.”



He nodded. “Yes. Fiona actually helped get me my start and I signed with her exclusively a short while later. We’ve been working together for several years now. She’s helped make me what I am today.”



I wanted to disagree, to tell him that he’d have made it on his own, but I guess I had no way of knowing. Already, I’d seen glimpses of just how cutthroat this industry was.



His phone buzzed again, rattling the glass tabletop until Ben reached down to quiet it. I couldn’t help but notice Fiona’s name flash across the screen.



I took a sip of my wine and noticed Ben was still staring down at his phone, lost in thought. “Do you need to get that?”



His gaze snapped up to mine. “No. It’s Fiona. And I have nothing to say to her right now.”



I still didn’t understand the extent of their relationship. Was it just a close business partnership or something more? I brushed off the feelings of insecurity swimming inside me. My bitchy boss would most certainly not like me out with her golden boy right now, but I didn’t care. She didn’t own him.



I took another healthy swig of my wine, hoping that the alcohol would completely banish all thoughts of self-doubt inside me. That wouldn’t happen, though. I was seated across from one of the world’s most sought after male models. My head was an absolute wreck over that fact, not to mention my fluttering heart and damp panties.



“I’m sorry, but this is all new for me. I’m at a loss about what it is you want,” I admitted, folding my hands in my lap.



All traces of seriousness disappeared from his face. His eyes danced on mine, possessive and hungry, and he leaned closer, sexy, boyish charm and playfulness radiating off him. “I think you know exactly what I want.”



Heat crawled up my neck, staining my cheeks. The man certainly didn’t mess around.



He chuckled, a rich warm sound that flooded my senses and sent me reeling, like there was some inside joke that only he and my pulse were privy to. “Let’s get you to bed. I’m sure Fiona will have you up early for work tomorrow.” Cool authority laced his voice, and I knew it’d be pointless to argue or probe further.



He rose and guided me from my chair, his hand resting against my back to assist my movement, leading me off into the night.



Ever the gentleman, Ben walked me to my door and pressed a kiss to my hand.



I leaned against the door, ready to collapse in a heap on the floor. My legs were done. My entire body was done. I was a limp noodle—turned on and humming for the past two hours spent with Ben. He was polite yet flirty. I hated that I didn’t know if this was a date, but he did pay for the wine. Thank God for that, too, because I was pretty sure I didn’t make that amount of euros in a week.



“Goodnight, Miss Clarke,” he said, his voice low and sexy.



“Night.” I breathed.



He leaned in close, giving me a chance to pull away. I let my eyes slip closed and seconds later felt Ben’s full, sensuous mouth cover mine. One hand wound its way into my hair; the other curled around my waist. The warm weight of his hand anchored me, pulling me close until our bodies were pressed together. The hard length of his body against mine was a thing of bliss. His skilled lips made the other men I’d kissed look like boys.



His hand drifted from my waist, found my behind, and clutched me closer, pressing his hips against mine. His teeth caught my lip and grazed lightly against the flesh. My mouth opened in surprise, and Ben used the opportunity to stroke my tongue with his. I let out a soft groan and his kiss deepened, seemingly fueled by the small sound. My hands fumbled behind me for the door handle. Relieving me of the chore, Ben’s hand swept the key past the reader and pushed open the door.



I tried to calm my fluttering heart to take stock of what I’d learned tonight. One: Fiona called Ben about every fifteen minutes, which he completely ignored. Two: Ben was fucking hot and the most incredible kisser. Three: I was falling for him. Hard. This information made me feel excited and depressed all at once. He was out of my league, but was that going to stop me? Nope. No, it wasn’t. I’d gotten a taste, and there’d be no stopping me now.



6



Once inside my room, we were tangled limbs fighting to get closer as we moved across the floor. Ben’s big hands held my jaw so sweetly as his tongue made laps against mine. His commanding body forced my feet backward toward the bed.



My emotions were a combo of Let’s go make babies to Must. Stop. Kissing. Shutting off my brain, I allowed my hormones to take over. I kicked off my shoes, crawled onto the bed, and tugged him down on top of me.



His warm weight pressed me into the mattress and his mouth was everywhere. He nibbled on my collarbone, nipped gentle bites at my neck, and used his tongue to sweep a damp path over the tender skin. Holy hell, did he know what he was doing.



Ben’s rough hand was suddenly under my shirt, cupping my breast and rubbing his thumb along my nipple. A bolt of desire zipped through my body. My hips moved against his, pressing against the firm ridge there, and a broken plea tumbled from his lips and into my mouth. It was the sweetest sound. Desperate and wanting, exactly like I felt. I was glad I wasn’t alone in that.



His palm found my ass again and squeezed, hauling me closer. I felt his thick erection press into my lower belly, and my insides went all molten.



“Do you have a condom?” His voice was low, raw with need.



“No,” I choked out.



“I have some in my room.” He continued moving his hips against mine.



I wanted this, I did. But my mind was reeling. Once he’d been inside me, there would be no turning back. My schoolgirl crush would be catapulted into outer space so far that I’d never come down. I needed to keep my wits about me. I just didn’t sleep with men I wasn’t dating.



“No,” I managed.



“No?” His tone told me he wondered if I wanted him bare. And the hint of a smile on his lips told me this idea was a welcomed one.



“I’m not ready for all this. . . .” My body was in complete disagreement with my brain, my legs winding their way around his backside to press him closer.



Ben groaned at the contact. “Come on, baby, let me fuck you.” He breathed against my neck. “I promise it’ll feel good.” He gripped my ass, pushing his erection against the damp spot between my legs, and I couldn’t help the whimper that escaped my throat.



“That’s not a good idea. We work together,” I managed.



“Fuck work. Let me get you off.”



His deep, sexy voice and the grinding of his hips were almost enough to convince me. Almost. “We can do some other things. But no sex.” I didn’t even know what I was saying, but I was certain which part of me was controlling my mouth. My throbbing sex. Ben had gotten me soaking wet and needy, and we’d barely rounded second base. Talk about playing out of my league.



His gaze met mine and he swept the hair back from my face. “I like other things.”



“Yeah?” I was thankful he’d followed my line of thinking and didn’t make me spell it out.



“Yes. And I think you’ll find I excel at them. Particularly oral.” His deep-set gaze was directed my way and that full, pouty mouth was just inches from mine. . . .



Holy. Crap. The look on his face. I was defenseless. “Umm . . . we’ll see about that, Mr. Shaw.”



He fixed me with an intense stare and leaned in close, his nose brushing past my jaw. I felt him inhale against my neck. “I wonder if you taste good.” His low whisper caused heat to drift from my neck and pool at the base of my spine. His warm, wet tongue slid against my neck and I whimpered in response at the sudden, heated, longing ache between my thighs.



His hand slid down the front of my jeans and into my panties. “Fuck. You’re soaking wet, baby.” He kissed my throat, his breath tickling my ear. “I know you want me to fuck you. But we’ll do things your way this time, okay?”



His fingers slid against me, massaging the slick, swollen tissue. Pleasure rocketed through me. I’d fantasized about his touch, and now that it was actually happening it was beyond any expectations I’d had. His skilled fingers massaged my clit with just enough pressure and a lazy rhythm that allowed the pleasure to build slowly.



“You’re so soft,” he whispered. He palmed one breast while his other hand remained buried in my panties.



I was soft, with extra padding on my hips, thighs, and breasts; my body was curvy and womanly, and though I would have thought this was a bad thing—especially for a toned and firm model like him—he seemed to like it.



He kissed a wet path across my neck as his hands explored. I should’ve stopped him but my mind was numb and my body was all kinds of lit up. I wanted more. I deserved more, didn’t I? I’d been the good girl for so long.



He slid one long finger inside me and I whimpered, arching my back. “You’re a little thing, aren’t you?” He kissed my neck while his finger continued its slow progression, sliding in and out of me in a careful rhythm.



“Ben . . .” I groaned, frustrated by his measured strokes. I needed more.



“Tell me,” he growled.



“I need it harder.”



His mouth captured mine while his finger plunged deeper inside me, his bicep flexing with the motion. He added a second finger and pressed his thumb against the top of my sex. I moaned loudly, rocking my hips against his hand. I didn’t care that I looked like a horny mess. Hell, I was a horny mess.



He rhythmically fingered me in and out, his thick fingers filling an ache left untouched for too long. And now, Ben Shaw was in my bed. Holy hell.



Ben



She might have told me she didn’t want this, but her body disagreed. She had sent me all kinds of signals. She liked this. A lot. Her breathing came in soft pants and her hips rocked closer. I didn’t even think she realized she was doing it. She wanted me inside her, even if she wouldn’t admit it. But I didn’t want to ask her. I couldn’t bear to hear her tell me to stop. I needed to touch this girl.



“That feel good, baby?” I needed to hear her say it did. I was naturally pretty aggressive and that had always served me well with girls, but something told me Emmy wouldn’t like being told what to do. As much as I’d like to command her to strip naked, take off her panties, and stand before me, I wouldn’t. She wasn’t ready. She was too skittish around me. Too unsure.



“Mmm . . .” She let out a soft groan, her only signal that this felt good. She let her eyes slide closed and her head rested in the crook of my neck. That wouldn’t do. I wanted to see her face when she came, but I let her remain there, feeling the soft pant of breath against my neck. It felt nice.



She was by far the classiest girl I’d been with. Double major in college. She was smart, hardworking, and articulate. She didn’t sleep around. I could tell she was two seconds from pulling the plug on this whole thing, and I couldn’t let that happen. I’d never wanted a girl more. Not that I was about to get all introspective and examine why that was. No. My goal was much simpler. I just wanted to get her naked and see her tits. From the first moment I’d seen her, we’d been headed toward this very moment.



I moved my hand against her, dragging my fingers slowly in and out of her. She was wet as fuck and it made my dick so hard. I wanted to be inside her. I needed it. But I wouldn’t rush her. She felt amazing and she was literally soaking wet, now writhing against my hand. She went really tight and I could tell she was close. I could already read her body. I continued my measured strokes, unwilling to rush her to the finish line. I felt her begin to clench around my fingers as she started to unravel. Her eyes were a pretty gray-blue and clouded over with her pleasure. Still fucking her with my fingers, our eyes connected as she started to come.



Emmy



My orgasm built slowly then came rushing at me all at once, knocking the breath from my lungs and making me cry out. My world exploded around me. The climax hit me like a freight train, and I was in mindless ecstasy, clutching at Ben’s biceps as I fought to hold on. He knew what he was doing; I’d certainly give him that.

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