She Said Yes!

She Said Yes!

By Shawna Jeanne

Published by
JMS Books LLC

Visit
jms-books.com
for more information.

Copyright 2014 Shawna Jeanne

ISBN 9781611526622

Cover Design:
Written Ink Designs
| written-ink.com

Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

All rights reserved.

WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United States of America.

* * * *

She Said Yes!

By Shawna Jeanne

The clock on the dashboard read
11:03
when Marianne Williams finally turned off the interstate at the Ashland exit. The interior of her late model Honda Civic glowed a cool blue, pushing back the darkness outside, and the radio played so softly, she could barely make out the tune. It was late; she was exhausted. She’d been on the road for the past three and a half hours, and her sore shoulders would remind her of the long drive in the morning. But right now all she wanted was a mug of hot tea and her boyfriend Johnny’s warm body curled up beside hers in the bed they shared.

She glanced at the clock and debated calling him. Was it too late? Probably—knowing Johnny, he fell asleep in front of the television after eating takeout, and she’d walk in on a messy house she was in no mood to deal with at the moment. For the past four days, she’d been out of town at a work conference, and she called home around nine every evening to check in with him. After a long day of boring seminars, break-out sessions, and PowerPoint discussions left her head spinning with projected sales figures and ways to increase production, she looked forward to a little downtime with her lover. Even if most of it had been listening to him go on and on about whatever it was he and his best friend Ben had done that day. At least it was Johnny’s throaty voice, soothing in her ear, and she could sink down in the covers of the hotel bed and imagine him purring into her, his strong hands caressing her body as he spoke.

At thirty-three, Marianne thought she was mostly happy with the way her life was turning out. She had a stable job as an executive assistant at an up-and-coming chain of fashion boutiques; five franchises had opened in the Richmond area earlier in the year, and three more were scheduled for the next quarter. It wasn’t what she’d always imagined she would do when she “grew up,” but it was steady work and good money, and she liked her boss, which she’d found out the hard way counted for a lot when it came to liking her job. She had her own car—an older model, to be sure, but already paid for, so she didn’t have a loan hanging over her head—and she rented a large, three-bedroom home in a nice subdivision where she could see herself one day settling down.

And, of course, she had Johnny. When she did settle down, it would be with him.

Two years her junior, Johnny Dodson was attractive in that sexy, frat boy kind of way Marianne always liked in a guy but could never seem to claim for her own. He had sandy hair that never seemed out of place and a slim, trim frame with six-pack abs and rippling pectorals despite his love of pizza and video games. When he smiled, his eyes actually twinkled, which always melted Marianne; no matter how mad she might be at him, for whatever reason, those eyes guaranteed he was never in trouble with her for long. She just couldn’t stay angry with him, and damn it the hell, he knew it. He loved her, she knew he did—he told her all the time, and he bought her rings and bracelets, did the dishes without being asked, made dinner when she’d had a rough day at work, all the little things that proved he loved her, and
only
her. But sometimes he could be so infuriating, especially when he smiled and winked and knew she’d forgive him, no matter what. Luckily for her, he wasn’t the wandering type.

Well, no, that wasn’t quite true. Johnny didn’t cheat on her with other women, but there was something about his friend Ben Stewart that always set off her alarms.

Marianne had never dared to ask if there was anything going on between them. The guys had been best buds since high school, and no matter how much Johnny might claim to love her, she suspected if push came to shove, he’d choose Ben over her in a heartbeat. She didn’t want that to happen. So she ignored the playful looks and flirty banter, and the way Ben touched Johnny inappropriately at times. As long as Johnny was faithful to her, she could overlook whatever might be between them.

And, God, could she even admit it? Part of her was sort of turned on—just a little bit—by the thought of her man getting it on with another guy. There in the quiet interior of her car, alone, she felt a warmth spread between her legs at the thought of Johnny’s hands flat against Ben’s broad, hairy chest, Johnny’s strong thighs clamped tightly around Ben’s narrow waist. She imagined the two men wrestling together on the floor of her living room, both naked, sweaty and hard, and she shifted in the driver’s seat as a spike of lust shot pleasantly through her cunt.

If Johnny
was
asleep when she got home, she might have to pull out her vibrator for a quick release before calling it a night. How far could she take the image of her lover and his best friend frolicking in the buff? One hand drifted down to press hard against the front of her jeans, where a sweet ache blossomed. She couldn’t wait to find out.

* * * *

Though she was with Johnny, it was Ben Marianne met first. He was the general manager at the rental car company her boss favored—with so many boutiques in the Richmond area, and more scheduled to open, company policy was to use a rental whenever possible to reduce wear and tear on personal vehicles and limit liability. Most of the travel was done by Marianne’s boss, which meant she had to arrange for the rental cars to be dropped off at their office ahead of time.

The first time Ben came in, keys in hand, Marianne was smitten by his devilish goatee and sexy grin. He reminded her of a young Robert Downey, Jr., with an extra twenty pounds broadening his chest and shoulders. It was after four in the afternoon, and his suit was a little rumpled that late in the day, but it only added to his charm. Leaning down over her desk, he dangled the keys to a rental car in front of her and said, “Your chariot has arrived, milady.”

Marianne giggled. “You look like Iron Man. Well, no, the guy who plays Iron Man. I mean, the actor in the movies, not the way he’s drawn in the comics.”

He gave her a wink that made her blush. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

“Oh, it is,” Marianne assured him. “God, that guy’s hot. He could make a movie of him just sitting on a couch for two hours and I’d pay to see it.”

Ben grinned wider. “So you’re saying I’m hot.”

Realizing her gaffe, Marianne ducked her head and took a deep breath to steady herself. Her face was on fire, and now that he was staring at her so intently, she couldn’t seem to meet his gaze. What color were his eyes, even? She didn’t know. She wasn’t able to look higher than the nametag on his lapel that read
Benjamin Stewart, Manager
.

Grasping for something to change the subject, she asked, “You’re the manager and you deliver cars to clients? Now that’s what I call customer service.”

“It’s what I call being short staffed.” Ben palmed the keys and folded his arms in front of him on the top of her desk, and didn’t seem in the least bit interested in moving any time soon. He smiled down at her like a benevolent god, and she snuck glances up at him when she thought she could get away with it, but every time she did, their eyes met and sparks flew. At least, they did for
her
. By the time he left the office, her panties were going to be wet.

After an awkward moment, Marianne spied the telephone and sighed in relief. “Let me get Ms. Harper up here to sign for the car.”

When her boss was at the front desk, Ben was all business—he stepped back and straightened up, his smile reserved for Ms. Harper now, his eyes no longer on Marianne. For the first time since he had entered the office, she felt as if she could breathe again.

She turned to her computer and pretended to ignore the interaction between her boss and the rental car manager, but she couldn’t deny the way her heart fluttered every time she glanced up and saw Ben’s smile. When Ms. Harper shook Ben’s hand, Marianne thought maybe she could finally get back to some semblance of work—or maybe dip into the restroom to rub a quick one out while the memory of the man was still fresh in her mind. But, to her surprise, Ben lingered by her desk when her boss left.

A bit more composed now—she hoped—Marianne asked Ben, “Can I help you with something else?”

“Let’s get back to where you said I was hot,” Ben joked.

Marianne laughed. “No, I didn’t mean…I’m not saying you’re
not
, but…I don’t—”

He smiled down at her, obviously enjoying her discomfort as she stuttered through a reply. Finally he covered her hand with one of his, and the feel of his warm skin on hers really
did
make her panties wet, just a little bit. “It’s okay, I’m only teasing,” he assured her. “I don’t want to ruin your day or anything, but I like guys.”

“Oh.” The word came out in a little bubble of disappointment,
oh.
Of course he would be gay. All the sexy ones were.

Ben squeezed her hand. “But my best friend is straight and single, and if you think I’m hot, then, sister, he’s off the chart. I’m telling you, and you can believe me, because I know hot when I see it. He works with me, so he has a good job, steady income, and he’s an all-around great guy. I think you two would hit it off.”

Gently, Marianne pulled her hand out from under Ben’s. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m not really interested.”

Ben gave her a knowing wink. “Well, I’ll tell you what. I’ll send him by to pick up the car when it’s ready, and you can see for yourself if I’m right.”

* * * *

Turned out he
was
right. Johnny was Captain America to Ben’s Iron Man—tall and lithe, well-toned, handsome. Twinkling baby blue eyes that seemed almost depthless at times and careless blond hair that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a surfer. God, and his smile! If Ben’s was devilish then Johnny’s was the other side of the coin, innocent and angelic, complete with a dimple in his left cheek that she wanted to poke with her fingertip every time she saw it. A grin like that guaranteed him a free ride through life.

In the six months since they started dating, Marianne was already dangerously close to falling head over heels in love with Johnny. And, if she were being completely honest, with Ben, too. Because with one came the other. She learned early on the difference between going “on a date,” which meant just the two of them, and “going out,” which meant Ben would tag along. Funnily enough, she never felt like a third wheel when it was the three of them—Johnny still treated her the same way he did when Ben wasn’t around, but he didn’t limit his flirting with only her. And Ben flirted with both Marianne
and
Johnny. Evenings with both men made her feel sexy and special and loved, and many times she hated having to say goodbye to Ben at the door.

Did that make her a wanton woman, wanting to invite him in after the evening ended? Not
instead
of Johnny, but
with
him. Who said what the three of them had together couldn’t carry over into the bedroom?

But she wasn’t the type to suggest such a thing, and Ben had told her often enough that he liked guys. He was a natural flirt, and she tried not to take his attentions seriously. Many evenings when they were out, he would flirt with everyone, no exceptions—Johnny and herself, of course, but also the guy taking tickets at the movie theater, the waitress serving them dinner, the kid playing an overturned paint can like a bongo drum on the street corner…
everyone
. Ben was just that type of guy. And if he were straight, Marianne knew she would choose him over Johnny in a second.

But Johnny, God. That smile, those eyes, that hair! And his taut ass, his flat stomach, his thick cock. Just thinking of him between her thighs made her pussy ache. If only there were a way to have both men at once.
Don’t be greedy, girl,
she warned herself as she made the turn onto her darkened street.
You’re lucky you have the one. Let Ben find the right guy and all of you can be happy.