Braydon motioned for him to go ahead, as though I was some rare and fine delicacy to be sampled and savored.

Ben kneeling before me was a beautiful sight. He raised one dark eyebrow, then without warning pressed his mouth to the juncture between my thighs. He dragged his tongue slowly across my center, sending warm darts of pleasure up through my belly. My knees buckled, but Braydon’s strong grasp on my hips kept me from going down.

Ben licked and suckled in that slow, maddening rhythm I’d come to appreciate from him, while Braydon held me from behind, offering soothing caresses along my spine. Holy God, this felt amazing.

Ben was almost too good at this. My body couldn’t handle the direct contact, but he knew what he was doing and he alternated lapping against my clit and pressing soft kisses against my plump lips and pubic bone. All too soon, I dug my hands into his hair and came loudly, thankful for Braydon’s firm grip on my hips.

Ben rose and lazily smiled, kissing my lips. His mouth was damp from my juices and something inside me found that incredibly sexy. They each shed their remaining clothing and I stepped away from the black silk pooled at my feet.

The three of us moved to the bed. I needed to taste Ben, to show him he was mine and I was his. No matter what he said, I felt that truth deep in my heart and I was going to show him. I pushed him back against the bed and moved over him, taking his rock-hard length in my hand and letting my mouth sink down all the way until my lips met his taut stomach. He sucked in a breath, his abs tightening.

“Shit, baby,” he cursed. His hands cradled my hair and I stroked him enthusiastically from base to tip while I suckled his firm length. “Fuck, Emmy . . . yeah . . . just like that.”

I felt the mattress dip as Braydon moved behind me and buried his face in my upturned bottom. Holy crap! His tongue circled my entrance, teasing me, and I let out a small groan around Ben’s thick length.

All too soon, Ben pulled himself free from my mouth. “You’re going to make me come, Tennessee.” My heart leapt at hearing his old nickname for me. It made things feel more intimate between us, hearing him refer to me like he did when we’d first met.

Braydon moved from the bed and sheathed himself in a condom, and I was hit with a wave of nerves, wondering what they had in store for me. Wondering if I could really go through with this.

Ben tugged me closer so that we lay facing each other in the center of the bed. “Are you sure?” he whispered, his hazel gaze searing into mine.

“Are you?” I watched him closely, determined to understand what was going on inside his head.

Rather than answer me, he looked over my shoulder and gave Braydon a nod.

I was lying on my side, half-draped over Ben, when I felt Braydon lay down behind me. Braydon kissed the back of my neck, smoothing his hands over my generous backside. “Fuck, I love this ass, jellybean.”

A nervous squeak escaped my throat as he parted my legs, positioning me so that my top leg rested over Ben’s hip and Braydon’s cock brushed against my center.

I whimpered as Braydon pushed forward, slowly, carefully filling me. My breath caught in my throat. It was a snug fit already, but the piercing provided added friction. There was just something so naughty about the thought of his piercing inside me. I liked it. I squeezed my eyes closed and groaned as he sunk all the way in.

“Shit,” Braydon cursed. “She’s so tight.”

“I know,” Ben bit out.

Ben hugged me to his chest, cradling me against his warm body. He kissed my forehead and allowed me to adjust to the fullness of Braydon penetrating me. When I opened my eyes and met Ben’s, the tension in his jaw and blazing possessive look in his eyes caught me off guard. I kissed him, unsure what he wanted in that moment.

After several moments, he grabbed my hand, bringing it down to his cock. “Stroke me, baby,” he whispered, his voice ragged.

I reached between us and gripped him, letting my hand slide all along him, gliding from base to tip.

Braydon surged forward, rocking my body against Ben’s. The moment was incredibly erotic, being sandwiched between two men. Two sets of legs tangled with mine, their large hands caressing and petting me. Ben kissing my mouth, Braydon’s tongue lavishing my shoulder . . . I lost myself to the rhythm, stroking Ben in the same measured tempo of Braydon’s movements against me.

Ben’s hand moved between my legs, pressing small circles against my clit, and already it was almost too much. I moaned out this name and he smiled, watching me closely.

“Not yet. Come with me, baby,” Ben whispered against my mouth.

My body broke out in chills as I fought to slow the impending orgasm threatening to overtake me. My hips moved of their own accord, pressing against Ben’s hand and pushing Braydon’s cock deeper inside me. Pulses of pleasure shot through me.

“Slow up . . .” Ben’s hand reached across me to press against Braydon’s hip, forcing his thrusts to slow.

The tension in his expression told me Ben wasn’t particularly thrilled with touching another man when they were both naked, but he did it for me. Since Braydon didn’t possess the ability to read my body’s reactions quite like Ben did, he directed him, ensuring my pleasure was put first. Even if another man was fucking me, he would make sure it was being done properly.

Having both of their complete attention undid me. I came harder than ever before, burying my face in Ben’s chest and crying out. Ben’s hand took over my disjointed movements and he firmly stroked himself until I felt warm semen flowing over our laced fingers. My pussy clenched and Braydon pressed in deep once more, groaning out his own release.

I remained cradled in Ben’s arms, resting my cheek on his firm chest, enjoying the sensation of just being held. I knew it was stupid, but in that moment I felt so loved, so protected. I never wanted to leave this warm spot. And I didn’t have to, because Braydon returned with warm washcloths and cleaned me off while I remained nestled against Ben. And after ditching the condom, Braydon crawled back into bed with us.

Ben lifted his head from the pillow and frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Going to sleep. Your girl drained me.” Braydon tossed me a sexy smile.

“Get the fuck out. I get to hold her.”

“Ben.” I shoved his shoulder. It was the middle of the night and we were all a little tipsy. Was he really going to send Braydon away? “The bed is plenty big enough.”

He narrowed his eyes at Braydon. “Fine, but stay on your own fucking side. No one cuddles with Emmy but me.”

“Damn cuddle hog,” Braydon muttered.

“At least he’s not a cock block,” I joked, smiling at Braydon.

Braydon and I shared an easy laugh. I couldn’t help but notice Ben’s stark expression. I found it rather curious that he just let his friend fuck me but cuddling was apparently crossing the line. However, Ben had said I was his insomnia cure, so maybe he just wanted a good night’s sleep. I didn’t get to ponder it for long because after two men and three orgasms tonight, my body was done with all nonvital functions. Breathing and cuddling were the extent of my talents at the moment.

Sleeping in a big bed between two men was another new experience for me. I curled into Ben, relaxed and exhausted, and let him hold me.

18

Emmy

The next morning I was relieved to see Braydon had slipped out and left at some point. Even if I felt bad for Ben trying to throw him out last night, I didn’t think I could handle facing him this morning. I had the man I wanted, warm and solid beside me.

Ben lazily blinked open his eyes and his mouth twitched with a smile.

“Morning.” I tried not to be self-conscious about my just-woke-up appearance.

“Morning, beautiful. How are you feeling?”

I stretched and surveyed my body, taking stock of how I felt. I felt good. Better than good, actually. “Fine.”

“Not sore or anything, are you?” he asked, his expression concerned.

I shook my head.

“I honestly didn’t know he had that piercing.” He frowned.

I smiled. “It was fine, Ben.” And fine was code for “mind-blowing,” but Ben didn’t need to know all that. “Would you ever consider . . .” I looked down at the sheets, nudged up by his semierect length.

“Fuck no. I’m not crazy, sweetheart.” His hand went protectively over his manhood and I giggled, snuggling into his arms. Ben wrapped me tightly in his embrace and kissed the top of my head.

The truth was, I didn’t need him pierced, inked, or with any other embellishments. I loved him just the way he was. Whoa. Liked. I liked him. Not that other L-word. That would be very dangerous. And stupid.

Our late-morning cuddling session was interrupted by a knock at his door. Our eyes locked together in confusion. Was he expecting someone?

Ben climbed from bed and looked through the peephole. “Fuck. It’s Fiona.”

A cold chill zipped up my spine. What was she doing here?

“Get in the bathroom,” he commanded, pulling the blankets back, urging me from the bed. The warm, safe nest we had just shared.

Without complaint, I allowed him to guide me into the bathroom. He shoved my clothes and shoes at me and hung my purse strap over my shoulder before shutting the door. I was too stunned to move. To stunned to think. Instead, I gripped the bundle in my arms and stared at the back of the door as it promptly closed in my face.

A moment later, I heard voices fill his room. I stood naked on the cold marble floor holding the bundle of my dress and shoes.

“Messy bed . . . someone’s been a busy boy,” she teased.

“I was sleeping, Fiona. Did you need something?”

“I tried calling you last night. You never come see me anymore. . . .” The pout in her tone was clear. She missed him.

“I told you. It’s time we both moved on.”

I held my breath, waiting for her response, but she was quiet. The soft murmur of voices continued, but I struggled to make out their words. I pressed my ear to the door, trying to hear. I imagined him holding her, whispering soft words to her, knowing I was probably listening. My knees felt shaky and my stomach flipped at the thought of him touching her. He didn’t want to share me with Braydon last night, but now I was getting shoved in a bathroom when Fiona came knocking? Oh hell no . . .

A moment later, I heard the hotel room door close, and Ben opened the bathroom door, his expression concerned.

I exited the bathroom and shoved my feet into the shoes still in my hands. I made quite a sight—dressed in an oversized T-shirt and Louboutin heels, silk Vera Wang dress wadded up in my fists.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

I swallowed a massive lump in my throat. “Ben, have you been fucking her?” My voice came out surprisingly calm, considering every nerve ending in my body was firing at once. I felt sick, dizzy, heartbroken, and slightly homicidal. I knew there was that one time with him and Braydon, but I couldn’t handle the thought of anything more.

“She and I have a history,” he said carefully. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know, but now isn’t the right time. I have to get ready. And if I know Fiona, she’s probably ringing your room looking for you.” He squeezed my shoulders softly. “Go.”

I nodded.

• • •

I couldn’t concentrate on anything but the impending conversation Ben and I needed to have. I showered, dressed, and went through the motions at work, but my mind was elsewhere. The beautiful evening we’d shared. The way Ben made me feel. The devastation of knowing he’d quite possibly been with Fiona this entire time.

Thankfully, Fiona didn’t seem to suspect that I’d been hiding in Ben’s bathroom that morning while she droned on about not seeing him anymore. I could barely look at her, but she didn’t seem to notice or care how coolly I was behaving toward her.

Finally, I made my way back to the hotel and collapsed onto my bed. My phone pinged with a new text.

Ben: Are you back?

Me: Yes

Ben: Can I take you to dinner?

I considered his request. I knew I should be hungry. I’d barely eaten all day. But food was the last thing on my mind. Not to mention, if we were going to have an emotionally charged discussion, I’d rather not do it in public.

Me: I’d rather just talk.

Ben: Okay, I’ll come down to your room in a few.

Me: See you then.

Nerves took flight in my belly and I paced the room waiting for him. I had no idea what he would tell me. Would this be the end of us? Even though I had been expecting it, the knock at my door startled me.

Ben looked exhausted. The dark circles under his eyes and his defeated posture indicated he’d spent the day worrying, much like I had. I wanted to hug him, collapse against his chest, bury my face into his scent, and forget about everything else. Forget that Fiona had invaded our peaceful bubble this morning, forget that he’d rudely shoved me into the bathroom. And most important, forget how he’d continually held me at a distance, insisting this was merely physical when I felt so much more.

“Can I come in?”

I realized I was just standing there, blocking the doorway. I stepped aside and motioned him forward. Ben sat down next to me on the bed and sucked in a deep breath.

“I have some questions.” My voice was tiny and unsure.

He nodded, solemnly looking down at his hands. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

My stomach knotted into a painful mess of nerves. I wished I could live in blissful ignorance but I had to know. Straightening my shoulders, I met his eyes. “Are you and Fiona lovers?” No sense beating around the bush.

Ben didn’t flinch, didn’t give away any physical clue that this line of questioning made him uncomfortable. “We were, yes.” He watched my eyes, checking for my reaction.

I suddenly felt sick, my worst fears confirmed. I fought the urge to curl into the fetal position and stared back at him, too captivated to look away. I gulped in a lungful of air. I had to know. “When . . . how often . . .”