Project MANagement

Kirra Pierce

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Project manager Belle swears she's not the one with control issues. Oh no, it's her difficult engineering co-workers: Larry, Stanley, and John who have a problem being team players. So they make a little bet. If she can give up co...
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Project manager Belle swears she's not the one with control issues. Oh no, it's her difficult engineering co-workers: Larry, Stanley, and John who have a problem being team players. So they make a little bet. If she can give up control to them for one night, 'blindly' trust them, they will follow her schedule at work--joy! If the price of a smoothly run project was putting herself into their hands, following whatever project tasks they came up with, Belle was willing to take one, or more, for the team. Little does she know they will take being a team player to new level.

Larry, Stanley, and John have a secret, well, more than one secret. The three of them are lovers, and if Belle can accept ALL that they have to offer, they plan to keep her for more than just one night. They've laid out their specifications and the testing is very through. Before the night is over, the step of faith they were taking with Belle becomes a full-fledged leap. Her body is in their hands, but their hearts are in hers.

It's Christmas after all, and these three not so secret Santas plan to make all their Christmas wishes come true. They know they can have Bell as their own for the night, but will the truth of what they want keep her from committing to their long-term project goals?

  • Note:This book contains sexual content of an explicit nature that may be offensive to some readers: multiple partners, m/m sexual practices.
Excerpt
John. I would know his wonderfully smooth voice anywhere.

“You mean we’ll take her.”

The second voice came from behind me. Larry. I knew his voice -- crisp, clear -- but never noticed that tone before. Hmm, normally he, John, and Stanley seemed to compete as to who could come up with the lamest puns or old movie references, but tonight Larry sounded different.

Tony handed me over to John, and I ceased my wondering. He pulled me close and guided my left hand up to his shoulder, put one arm around my waist, and took my right hand in a classic dance pose I could recognize even blindfolded.

“My dance, I believe.” Ooo, the vibrations of his lovely voice ran through all of what I knew was an equally lovely chest. I would do just about anything he asked when he held me close like this, but there was one teensy problem…

“Um, John, dancing might not be such a good idea.”

I could feel his muscles bunched, ready to begin, but he froze when I spoke.

“Don’t worry, Belle. I won’t dance you into anyone. Blind trust tonight, remember?”

I caught a whiff of his skin through his shirt. I had never felt like this before. I just wanted to rub against him like a cat. Was it the mask? Oh, damn, what was I saying?

“It’s not the trust, John. It’s the dancing. When you all gave me the invitation to the ball, I, of course, scheduled in a few lessons. But I’m really not good enough to do this blind.”

A chuckle rumbled out of his chest, and then Larry spoke from behind me again.

“That won’t be a problem.”

Commanding. That was the difference I noticed in his voice. Was it from those few years in the army between high school and college? Normally, his surfer looks distracted me, but not tonight. Could I be as guilty of stereotyping the guys as fun, but shallow, as so many people initially labeled me?

Blonde hair, big boobs. Obviously I had a negative IQ, right? You’d think I knew to look past the surface…wait a minute; all three of these guys deliberately teased and baited me. It wasn’t my fault.

“Belle? Did you hear what I said?”

Oh, damn, Larry had said something more.

“Uh, sorry? I was just so embarrassed -- about the dancing -- I got distracted.”

“What Larry means,” Stanley spoke, his voice like liquid satin. “Is that we all took ballroom dancing classes way back in high school.” His breath tickled my ear. “It was a great way to meet girls.” He spoke this softly to me, his lips just caressing my ear, as if he imparted a great secret. Like any of these three had ever been shy! Hah. “We know enough to make sure you enjoy…all your experiences tonight.”

A shiver of anticipation ran down my spine. That weasel. I could practically see the teasing smirk on his face, but I didn’t berate him. Then, I could feel Larry’s hips snug behind me. Suddenly I felt barely more than naked, surrounded by male heat and covered by only a thin layer of silk. I was acutely aware of John’s hand still pressed to my lower back. My nipples pointed right into his shirt.

Larry’s arms snaked around me and slid up my sides beneath the loose top.

“Your dress needs adjustment, Belle.” His hands first cupped the outside of my breasts then his fingers fanned over them, lightly abrading the nipples. He ran the fingertips teasingly down the valley between them and then tugged the material back so that only the short tunic top kept me from being exposed.

“Much better,” Larry murmured.

“What?”

Larry casually tweaked my nipples. I snapped back against his chest. The pleasure shot straight to my cunt. “No protests, Belle. Remember, no control tonight. You’re ours to be touched, exposed to us in any way.”

I swear I could feel the eyes of all three of them on me then. My breath caught in my throat. Another hand softly tugged my head to the side; it had to be Stanley.

Smooth, masculine lips covered my own. He took them with hunger, without apology. For a moment, I forgot we were in a crowded ballroom. I just wanted more, more of their touches. There was an anxious clenching in my cunt, a need to be filled.

“Belle?” Stanley made my name a question. I wasn’t sure what he asked, but I could hear the ache in his voice. I was ready to say “Yes. Whatever the question, the answer is yes.”

Then he changed gears. His voice took on the teasing note I was so used to hearing. “Don’t worry about the wardrobe adjustment, Belle. No one knows what's going on behind the curtain but us.

I tried to smile at the oblique Wizard of Oz reference, but my mind was too centered on what they had done to my own body for me to think of anyone else. Larry’s hands moved from my breasts, down my sides.

“Yeah, no one bothers to look past the surface until it just can't be ignored, and then it's too late.” I went stiff, startled at the bitterness of Larry's tone. Was he mad because he thought I never considered them more than cutups? He gave me a reassuring squeeze. “Sorry, Belle, that had nothing to do with you or tonight. I hope that you'll want…well, we'll see when it's time.” See? Was he teasing me? His hands slipped away, leaving me solely in John’s embrace.

I realized my left hand dug into his shoulder and my right squeezed his. I took a deep breath, trying to collect myself. John was having none of that. “Give me your attention now, Belle.”

He pulled me even tighter to him and used our still-joined hands to nudge up my chin. I let him tilt my head without resistance and was rewarded with a sweet kiss. When I had kissed John in the past, a part of me was always aware of his strength, the way he controlled it to never cause any hurt. Now I felt overcome, held to his much larger body, gently devoured by his lips.

A tremor ran through his body and I rejoiced to feel him affected as well. My right hand slid beneath his jacket and I felt the steel of his muscles under my touch. I gave in to impulse and scratched my fingernail over the male nipple, hidden from me by only a thin layer of cotton. John groaned against my lips then firmly set my hand back on his shoulder before resettling his own on my back.

He rested his forehead against mine for a moment, and then I felt him straighten. “I assume your lessons included the waltz?” I gave a jerky nod. I just wanted to go somewhere where I could talk to them, touch them freely.

“John --”

“Shh. Remember that old movie, The King and I? One, two, three, just like that. Follow my hands and body; they will lead you.”

With that, he swept me away.

Slowly at first, then with increasing speed, we twirled around the dance floor. I was dizzy, drunk with the motion. My cheek pressed against his chest, I felt his heat through the fine wool of his jacket and could smell an enticing clean male scent beneath it.

This was almost heaven. A gentle slowing -- and we stopped. Still dizzy, I clung to him a little longer.

Other hands rubbed light, soothing circles over my back.

“Are you okay, Belle?” Larry tugged me away from John’s chest. His hands on my shoulders, he turned me halfway around. I nodded toward the sound of his voice, feeling unaccountably shaken by the simple dance and the way they took care of me.

I sucked in a quick gasp of air. It had just occurred to me: I was their project! I had seen the way the three of them attacked engineering projects time after time. While they worked on it, the project took up their total attention. They examined every aspect, played with and tested it, but then they would move on to the next. After all, the very definition of a project was that it had a clearly identifiable endpoint.

I wanted to weep. Cinderella for just one night? A short-term assignment to make over and have fun with a woman to whom they were attracted? It might have started as just a fun challenge for me too, but I’d come to want something more. I was beginning to realize how much I truly cared for these three and knew it would crush me to be put aside once the project was over.

“Belle.” John's voice reached for me, and his large hand cupped my cheek. “We don’t want you really distressed. If this is too much, we can cut it short. Call off the rest of the evening.”

I hesitated. If I left now, I might not hurt so much, but I would never know what it meant to really have them, if only for a night.

“Or you could stay,” Stanley whispered and nipped my earlobe. “Wouldn’t you like to see what we’ve designed for you?”

Oh. Engineering. Design. Bad puns. I smiled, somewhat more at ease again. I could do this. In fact, I decided to break my own rules and purposely extend the deadline for this project. This would not end tonight.

Copyright © Kirra Pierce

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