Page 55 of Double Daddies (Dirty Daddies Anthologies #8)

He glances at Ryle, but my eyes stay on his face, so I don’t know what Ben sees. “We’re good with it.” Ben’s fingers go to my front-clasp bra, and with a deft move that comes with familiarity, he unsnaps it and lets it fall open.

While this is happening, Ryle is tugging my black satin panties down, inch by inch. It feels like the best kind of torture. When the cool room in the air kisses my newly exposed pussy, I can feel it quivering with heat.

Ryle has taken my panties down past my knees, then down my legs, and helps by lifting my feet one at a time to pull them off. Then he moved to straddle me, so near his stomach is almost touching mine.

It feels glorious and thrilling, but also somehow terrifying. I look up, my eyes searching for Ben.

He knows. He sees and moves closer into my line of sight. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

“What do you want, Cami? How do you want to be pleasured tonight?”

I’m at a loss for words. Ben knows me—the kind of long, deep knowing that means he has never asked me a question like that. But the sincerity in Ryle’s face as he waits for my answer, the quiet assurance that he will deliver whatever I ask, is not only flattering, it’s hot as hell.

I want to give him an answer, but this is all so new to me, and I find myself tongue-tied. I’ve never been good at asking for what I need. I look to Ben, hoping he’ll rescue me once again.

“No, look at me.” Ryle’s quiet authority has my gaze swinging back to him. “I asked you . I want to hear from you.”

Ben’s hand is on my shoulder, the gentle pressure assuring me he’s there if I need him, but he doesn’t say anything.

I take a deep breath, my mind whirling with the possibilities. What do I want? I don’t have the faintest clue how to answer him.

And Ryle’s not having it. I see the soft brown of his eyes turn into a darker chocolate hue as he stares down at me. “I’m giving you one minute to answer, young lady.”

My gaze jumps back to Ben, but before he can reassure me in his quiet, protective way, I feel strong fingers capture my chin and shift my eyes back to Ryle.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

His words, the firm timber of his authoritative voice, not to mention the young lady make a shiver shudder through me.

How could he know? I wonder. Is this another thing he and Ben discussed without my knowing?

I want to look to Ben to ask, but Ryle has me afraid to.

I keep my eyes on him, quivering instead.

“I can tell your pussy is wet—I can smell it.” He gives me a wolfish grin that makes me feel embarrassed and pleased all at once. “So why don’t you tell me what you want? Are you being coy?” He reaches out and caresses one of my nipples that seems to pebble the second he touches it.

“I… I don’t do that,” I whisper at last. “I just… it’s…” I shrug, hoping he’ll take my answer.

“It’s what?” he persists, despite my clear desire for him to change the subject—or, better yet, stop talking altogether.

“Do we have to?—”

“Yes, we have to. And you have fifteen seconds left, by the way.”

I don’t know what will happen when the invisible timer is up, but I’m a good girl at heart, so I scramble to answer. “I just want to come. Can you choose how? Please?”

Ryle’s eyes leave my face, but not before he gives me a satisfied smile. “Well? What do you think?”

“She did ask so nicely,” Ben muses, and I flush with heat.

I don’t know what’s more surreal—the fact that they’re getting along so well, or that they’re discussing my pleasure.

But before I have any longer to think on it, I feel a warm tongue on my nipple.

I gasp, but the sound is swallowed by a tongue in my mouth.

I give myself over to the sensations, trying to let go of tracking who is doing what, and surrender to the ecstasy.

While my breast is being suckled, and I’m being kissed, I feel a hand splay my legs apart. It’ll be too much—I know it. But even as the thought crosses my mind, I’m being kissed harder, and the urgency with which my mouth is being claimed distracts me from my protests.

When a finger plunges into my wet depths like a submarine seeking buried treasure, I can’t help but arch my back.

It is too much—the bruising kisses, the delicious, thorough suckling of my breast, the fingers in my pussy.

But it’s overwhelming in the best kind of way.

The kind that makes me forget everything but the symphony of sensation being created in my body right now.

Every nerve comes alive with feeling so that when I feel fingers seeking my other breast, first flicking then tweaking the nipple, my entire body tightens. I’m a knot of desperate need, but as a hot mouth claims my other breast and the fingers thrust in again, I unfurl in an eruption of passion.

Without being aware of it, I’m bucking against the fingers that bring me to orgasm.

And I bite the lip that is kissing me. My mouth is released, and I’m screaming “ Yes ! Oh, yes!” until my throat is sore.

I don’t know how much time passes before my heart rate goes back to normal, only that when I finally open my eyes, I see Ryle and Ben there, waiting for me.

I can see from the mark on his lip that Ben was the one who had been kissing me.

Which means Ryle’s fingers are pure magic.

I smile at both of them in turn, then close my eyes, suddenly feeling sleepy, but incredibly sated and happy.

Ben

“What time is it?” Cami asks as she stumbles into the kitchen.

“Morning, beautiful.” I meet her as she comes in, handing her a cup of coffee.

“Thank you.” She smiles at me, equal parts grateful and shy.

I watch her as she sips her coffee. Her hair is mussed from sleep and she’s not fully awake yet, and she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

“This is delicious,” she says when she comes up for air. Cami is a coffee lover of the highest order.

“It is,” I agree, and I’m only a tad begrudging when I say it. As soon as I’d seen Ryle’s state-of-the-art coffeemaker, I’d known Cami would love it. He also had a huge assortment of flavored syrups which I knew she would enjoy experimenting with later.

“What time is it?” she asks after swallowing another sip.

“Just after eight.”

“Eight?” Her eyes widen.

“Why?” I ask, concerned. “You don’t have another shift today, do you?”

“No, just… I slept for twelve hours?” she asks incredulously. As a charge nurse, she usually averages five hours a night, so I understand why she’s shocked.

“Well, you are pregnant,” I remind her, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. “Now, come have some breakfast.”

She winces at the mention of food. “I’m not feeling so great.”

“Nausea?” Ryle asks as he strides into the kitchen. He’s already wearing a pressed suit and has a newspaper under his arm.

Cami looks at him, then away again, flushing. “I… I don’t know. Just not great.”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” I say quietly. “If we’re all in this together for the time being, then we better be all in, right? And that means knowing what’s going on with you so we know how to help.”

“I guess.”

“Come on, you have to eat something. Why don’t you take a seat, and I’ll get you some scrambled eggs?” I escort her to the table and pull out a chair for her. She sits down, but by the time I move away, I can’t help but notice she is looking a little pale.

“There’s sausage and bacon too,” Ryle adds.

The only sound Cami makes is a groan.

I smother my chuckle and busy myself with fixing her a plate.

“You’re pregnant,” I say as I arrange a cluster of grapes on her plate next to the pile of fluffy eggs and a slice of toast. “You’ve got to keep up your strength, so at least try a few bites.

” But when I set the plate down in front of her, I have little hope that she’ll eat.

“Speaking of pregnancy… you should probably lay off the coffee.”

The look Cami gives Ryle almost makes me feel sorry for him.

“She can have one cup a day,” I tell him, then give her a reassuring smile.

“One cup,” she moans.

“This isn’t a surprise to you,” I respond, my tone gentle but firm. “You’re a nurse.”

“Exactly. I should have immunity, or something.”

I chuckle. “Well, as soon as you’ve got proof you do, I’ll reconsider, but until then, one cup.” I level her with a serious gaze. “Understand?”

Cami sighs. “Yes, sir.” She takes another sip and swallows, then frowns at her cup.

“Gone already, huh?”

She doesn’t answer except to plunk the cup down loudly on the table.

I glance over at Ryle, wondering what he thinks of her mini tantrum.

He’s walking toward us with another cup, which he sets down in front of her. “Here, try this orange juice instead. It’s fresh squeezed.”

As soon as his back is turned, Cami makes a face at him. If I’d seen it before we made our agreement yesterday, I probably would have found it reason to celebrate, but as it is, I clear my throat sternly.

“Fine, I’ll drink the juice,” she mutters darkly. “But don’t expect me to be happy about it.”

I take a seat next to her and begin to eat my own omelet. I decide it must be pretty good juice, because by the time she’s done, I swear she is happy about it.

“So if you don’t have to work, what’s on the docket for today?”

“Eating eggs, apparently.” She makes a face.

“You like eggs,” I remind her, reaching over and stroking her shoulder.

“I used to.” She puts the smallest bite possible on her fork and lifts it to her mouth. “I can’t stand the smell right now.”

“You need the protein,” I remind her, feeling a little silly reminding a nurse of what her body needs. “But we can come up with another plan for the future.”

At that moment, Ryle comes over and drops crumbled bacon onto her eggs. “I took a guess. Did I guess right?”

Cami looks up at him bashfully. “Yes. Thank you.” Then she glances at me, but I just squeeze her shoulder reassuringly.