Their Nerd: An MMF Ménage Romance (Two Plus One Book 1) Page 9

  He shoved her panties aside and dipped the bulbous head of his dick between her folds. “So wet. It makes me want to find out what else turns you on.”

  She wouldn’t mind that. She should, but she wasn’t supposed to be thinking.

  He dragged his cock along her slit, spreading her juices. “I need to fuck you.”

  That sounded brilliant. She raised herself enough to let him in, and had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep a cry from escaping when he plunged inside her to the hilt, stretching her out and filling her up.

  He set an increasing pace, digging his thumbs into her hips and rocking against her. Each thrust hit the same spot inside, coaxing her toward another peak. When her gasps and sighs grew louder, she clamped down on her tongue, to keep from making too much noise. The bitter taste of copper teased her taste buds, mingling with everything else. She clenched around him when she came again, squeezing his cock. Her head felt like it was filled with feathers.

  His steady pounding shifted to hard and rough, skin slapping against skin. His groans became fractured grunts. The noise mingled with the unrelenting pressure, and when he peaked, it drew her orgasm to a dizzying height.

  Their frantic rhythm slowed until the only sound in the room were the whir of a computer fan and their sharp attempts to catch their breath.

  She buried her face in the crook of his neck, struggling to find her voice. She was close enough to the ink decorating his skin that the vivid colors blurred and bled together in a dizzying array. His light touch on her shoulder made her giggle. “That tickles.”

  “Are you going to tell me?” he asked.

  If she searched back through their conversation, she might find a point of reference, but she wasn’t ready to turn her brain back on. “Hmm?”

  “You said you knew why you went home with me.” It figured he remembered that.

  “My hell.” She laughed. “You really are all ego.”

  “Not all of me.” He thrust his hips, his semi-erect cock nudging her.

  “All right. You’re also scary smart, and passionate enough about what you love to sell it. Even if that thing is you.”

  “Now you’re being mean.”

  Was she? “That wasn’t my intention. I left the bar with you because you get this look in your eyes when you’re being sincere. Like when you were talking about your tattoos.”

  He kissed her cheek. Such a tender gesture, compared to moments ago. “Don’t let that get out. The last thing I need is for people to think I get all doe eyed when I talk about Dark Phoenix.”

  A snick filled the room. The door latched open, and she shot her head up. Time slowed to a crawl, as the door swung open and Antonio’s voice carried through. “Next time you’re going to pass me a half-hour time suck, warn me first.” He paused in the doorway, gaze fixed on her and Justin.

  A chill blanketed Emily, reminding her how little she wore.

  Justin opened his mouth. “Ant—”

  “You know what? I don’t care,” Antonio said. “It doesn’t matter to me that you’re fucking each other, but I need assurances it doesn’t bleed into our work. Right now, I don’t believe that. I’m going to close the door long enough for you to get dressed. I’ll be here when you’re both decent, and we’ll all sit down and talk. Look each other in the eye. Discuss if this ends with me going back to Italy.”

  Emily’s insides churned into a fine mush as he spoke, but the last bit of his statement knocked her thoughts off-kilter. Where the hell did that come from?

  Before Antonio finished closing the door, Justin was prompting Emily to stand. She understood the urgency. There was no part of her that believed for a second she was—or should be—more important than their friendship. But the action still nagged her. Why couldn’t there be a way to walk out of here right now—sneak back to her desk without being seen, grab her purse, and never come back?

  At least after this conversation, she wouldn’t be up all night wondering if Justin was going to call Grant and tell him to never send Emily back... for whatever reasons he’d give.

  The thought wasn’t as reassuring as she’d hoped. She pulled on her slacks, buttoned her blouse, and grabbed her jacket from the floor. Justin had stripped off the condom and disposed of it. He stood near the door, waiting.

  “You good?” he asked.

  Not really. The anxiety clawing through her removed most of her mental capacity. Thankfully, it also blocked out her reaction to how incredible he looked with his hair mussed and his shirt untucked. She nodded.

  Justin let Antonio back in the room. “Let’s talk, starting with tabling the idea of you leaving and working our way out from there.”

  Emily sank into a chair by the table, hoping to keep her distance and wishing the weakness in her legs was caused by leftover euphoria, and not hedging nausea.

  Chapter Eleven

  Antonio should sit, but the adrenaline coursing through him wouldn’t allow it. Justin sat behind his desk, expression blank. Emily was on the other side of the room, looking like she wanted to crawl under the table and vanish.

  Antonio felt bad about that.

  “Your show, boss.” Justin broke the silence.

  Antonio looked at him. “Is it? Because the more time that passes, the more I feel like we’re not actually business partners, and you’re running a game I can’t even comprehend.” He shouldn’t open with something this aggressive, but he needed to figure out what was going on with Justin. The relationship with Emily—or whatever the hell the two of them called it—was only a symptom. Sure, it bothered Antonio more than he was used to. More than Justin’s engagement to Lia did. But it was because he hated watching Justin lose control.

  This extended beyond tonight or the friction in the restaurant. It stretched into the company. Decisions Justin made. Priorities he set.

  “Last time I checked, we were on the same page,” Justin said. “If you have a problem with the way things are going, there’ve been plenty of chances before now to speak up.”

  “My problem isn’t with things. It’s with trying to figure out where your head is.”

  “Excuse me.” Emily’s voice was quiet.

  Antonio was surprised she spoke up. She was the other half of what ate at him. His physical attraction to her wasn’t what tripped him up, seeing her here tonight. Despite only working with her for a few days, he was starting to enjoy her company. Which made this feel like a betrayal on multiple levels.

  He turned to face her.

  She hesitated. “If the two of you are going to have it out in some sort of come-to-Jesus, you don’t need me here.”

  “We do.” Antonio studied her. “That’s not limited to this moment in time. I mean that as a more sweeping statement. Speaking of—you were coming up here to talk about development projects. How did that become fucking on the couch? No. Wait. That’s a detail I don’t want.” In a way, he did, but that kind of knowledge could be dangerous.

  He looked at Justin. “And we shouldn’t need her. We had this under control. Six months ago, developing PP on the down-low was doable. Now we’re cutting too many corners and making mistakes. It’s not all on you, but you’re pushing hard, and you’re going to do something stupid. Like screwing a contractor who has the power to bring this crashing down on us.”

  “You’re right.” Justin’s reply caught Antonio off guard.

  Antonio stared at him. “I’m sorry. Say it again?”

  Justin smirked.

  “I’m not actually that mighty,” Emily said.

  “No? If you called Grant right now and told him what you knew, what would happen?” Justin asked.

  She shrugged. “I can guess, but I can’t say. It’s never come to that. I’m not sure how many more ways I can put this—I’m not here to see you fail. I look better if this project succeeds.”

  Antonio raked his fingers through his hair. The conversation was as undirected as his pacing. “Which brings us back to the couch. The lack of clothes. The why?”

&nb
sp; “It was a negotiation,” Justin said at the same time Emily said, “It was a lapse in judgment.”

  Justin slapped his palms on the desk. The thunk shook the floor, and Antonio covered Justin’s hands, locking them in place. They stared each other down, and seconds ticked by.

  “Don’t get sidetracked,” Antonio said with a growl.

  Justin’s nostrils flared, but he didn’t pull or look away. Behind Antonio, leather creaked.

  Seconds later, Emily moved into his peripheral vision. “I’m not sure what you’re looking for. I meant what I told you—what he and I agreed on.” She nodded at Justin. “It’s just sex.”

  Antonio broke the staring match, to look at her. “You can see how the line blurs, especially when it happens again after the assurance is made. I want to know if we’re going to have jobs after you talk to your employer.”

  “Funny. I have a similar concern about you talking to him.” She quirked her mouth in a joyless smile.

  “Neither one of us is calling him. It’s none of his business who you sleep with.” The irritation was gone from Justin’s tone. “I did it because... It wasn’t for blackmail. How’s that? Hoping I’m not the only one.” There was a hitch in the words. “Will you both sit down? Here, not on the other side of the room?”

  Emily complied, and Antonio followed suit. He looked at her. “Your turn. Are you going to Grant with PP?”

  Her wince summoned the irritation he’d tried to suppress since he walked in on them.

  “Are you fucking kidding?” Justin’s disbelief and annoyance echoed Antonio’s.

  “I already told you.” She sounded apologetic. “I don’t want to tell Grant anything, but ethically, I can’t watch you spend investor money on this.”

  Justin sighed. “The company has been solvent for years. If you want to dig into our books for proof, we’re funding PP without investor money.”

  “But PP is making us miss deadlines.” Antonio hated to point that out in mixed company, but it wasn’t a secret anymore.

  Justin glared. “Whose side are you on?”

  “Yours. Always yours.” Antonio poured more emphasis into the assurance than he meant to, and he hurried to cover it. “It goes beyond pushing our people past their limits; our customers are starting to notice. If Mercy can’t see past those fuckups, what happens when we give either beta to someone who doesn’t know us? Doesn’t trust us? Doesn’t have the kind of coding experience she does, to help us troubleshoot? What happens when it brings the next site down?”

  “I can’t keep putting this off.” Angry frustration propelled Justin’s words.

  Antonio didn’t have a reassuring counter. “All the delays—the noes? They eat at me as much as they do you. But something has to give, before this all breaks.”

  Emily cleared her throat, drawing attention. “I still don’t think I should be here for this, but since I am, may I make an observation?”

  “Please, enlighten us.” Justin’s tone was half a step from sarcastic.

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re a stubborn jackass. Anyone ever tell you that?”

  And the conversation was deteriorating again. “Could the two of you not, with the drifting off topic?”

  “I’m done.” Emily leaned in and rested her forearms on the desk. “But here’s my point— unless you want board-approved contractors, you’re under a hiring freeze until said board is happy with your work? What’s stopping you from bringing in a third party, off the books? If you want this, and you’re willing to foot the bill, pay them out of your own pocket. Even if you only get an extra ten hours a week, it has to be better than the fractured time you’re pulling from your people now.”

  Justin shook his head. “I’m still waiting for your word that news about PP doesn’t go back to Grant until it’s ready.”

  “One more time, for those of you in the back.” She looked between them. “On the record, all I care about is that you meet your beta with a working product. If you’re on track, there’s nothing for me to tell Grant. Lie about being on schedule, do something like pull a UI developer for a two-day focus group they shouldn’t be running—things like that, and you’ll crash and burn at release time. We all fail if that happens.” She furrowed her brow while she chewed her bottom lip. “And you should know Grant already suspects you’re working on something else. He put the doubt in my head, not the other way around. You need to keep a lower profile.”

  This wasn’t the best news, but given the circumstances, Antonio would take it. “Everything is out in the open now, and we’re all on the same page? No more secrets?”

  Emily looked at Justin, who raised his brows before turning to Antonio. “None,” Justin said.

  “Wonderful.” Antonio wasn’t in the mood to wonder if he should analyze that exchange. “We wasted half our night, but at least someone got laid and we got something accomplished.” He turned to Em. “When you come in tomorrow, we’ll be good?” He softened his tone. “No awkward pauses or not looking me in the eye?” It was going to be a long time before he let the image of her straddling Justin fade, but he didn’t need that interfering with everyday life.

  “No promises, but I’ll try. Do you need anything else from me?” she said.

  “No. Thank you.”

  “Ditto here,” Justin chimed in.

  “’Night. Both of you.” She stood and crossed the room, but paused in the doorway. “Sorry. One teensy, tiny thing.”

  Justin almost looked amused.

  “What’s that?” Antonio asked.

  “PP is based on your standard engine, isn’t it? Same data structure but enhanced algorithm?” The shyness was gone, and she stood a little taller.

  “That’s correct.” Antonio was curious now.

  She nodded toward Justin’s desk. “That query doesn’t return consumer results. It’s calculating at the vendor level.”

  Antonio’s eyes grew wide when he realized that one, Justin had been careless enough to leave a print out of PP code on his desk, and two, Emily was right. She must have read it upside-down and only seen two-thirds of it and absorbed it while talking to them. All without neither Justin nor Antonio noticing.

  “How do you know we want consumer trends?” Justin snatched the printout and tucked it into a folder.

  “I don’t.” Emily leaned her weight against the doorframe. “But anonymous vendor info filtered by user buying habits doesn’t return the kind of data I’ve seen you chart.”

  Christ, she really was sexy. The code she was talking about had haunted Antonio for several days. His version worked, but it was too slow. Justin was a second set of eyes to help him optimize it. “How would you do it?” Antonio wanted to know. “That is, if you’ve got another five minutes.”

  She seemed to consider the question, then stepped back into the room. “What the hell. I’m not billing you right now anyway.”

  “I appreciate that,” Justin said dryly.

  Antonio braced himself to referee another argument.

  Emily crossed the room and grabbed a whiteboard marker. “No comment.”

  TWO HOURS LATER, EMILY stood with her back to the wall, looking at Justin and Antonio. A series of diagrams and flowcharts decorated the board next to her. “Why not?” she asked.

  Justin took the dry-erase pen from her, erased a few lines with the side of his hand, and connected different pieces. “The diagram says you need to go that way, but if you’re not looking for middle information, you can bypass this layer and go straight to the source.”

  “Neat.” She was impressed with the conversation. Justin hadn’t let his skills lapse, despite being head of the company. When he and Antonio tossed proprietary terms around, she struggled to keep up. It was fascinating to watch. And enticing. Part of it might be thanks to the shared fantasy with Justin, which grew more vivid the longer she spent with both of them.

  Justin glanced at his phone. “It’s past eight. Didn’t mean to keep you here this late. Since we’re not paying you, at least let us bu
y you dinner.”

  “Which is his way of getting you to stay at least another hour, so we don’t lose our momentum. For the record, it’s a plan I support.” Antonio stood and stretched, fingers interlocked and arms extended above his head. It elongated his torso, and muscle rippled under his shirt.

  In her mind, she whistled. She could watch this for a while. Part of her insisted that wasn’t appropriate, but a larger part pointed out she already crossed that line. If she scaled back to a little drooling, she was making progress. “I could eat.”

  Justin crossed the room to his desk, grabbed a menu from a drawer, and handed it to her. “Chinese food. What are you having?”

  She scanned down the list. “Nothing too spicy.”

  “Had your fill earlier?” Justin asked, teasing in his voice.

  “I don’t want details.” Despite Antonio’s protest, he didn’t sound upset. He watched Justin with an unreadable expression. It almost looked like adoration.

  Which made sense, given what she’d seen of their friendship. If she read more into it, it was an inappropriate projection. She shook the thoughts aside, made her choice, and waited for Justin to call in their order. When he was done, she turned to Antonio. “Since the momentum is paused, may I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Why would you go back to Italy? Why did Justin make it sound like more than a temporary arrangement?” Silence fell over the room, and two frowns met her curiosity. “Unless that’s a bad question. Then forget I asked,” she said.

  “It’s okay.” Antonio’s accent sounded heavier than normal. “It’s something we try to pretend isn’t looming. My family owns one of the largest technology companies in Italy, and my father wants to retire. He’d like me to take over, but Justin and I built APPropriate Designs... I’m torn, to say the least. Family obligation versus my desire to stay here.” He looked at Justin with the same faint adoration as earlier.

  “I get it.” More than she wanted to. If Grant and the rest of the board were unhappy with the outcome of this project, the worst they’d do would be to buy out Justin and Antonio, essentially firing them with a sizable severance. It would leave Antonio free to go back home, but despite his expressed ambivalence, it was clear that wasn’t what he wanted. Her good mood faltered, as she processed how much rode on success.