The Nerds and the CEO (The Nerd Love Equation, #5)

by Allyson Lindt

  “I’m over here,” Justin said. He captured Antonio’s mouth with his again, then broke away. “Turn around.”

  Antonio’s anticipation spiked through his chest, and he obeyed.

  Emily looked enraptured with the show. She parted her legs and slid her hands along the inside of her thighs, giving him a teasing glimpse of her gorgeous pussy.

  “I’m not sure I’m doing this right.” Justin’s breath caressed Antonio’s ear. “So tell me if it hurts.” He bit into Antonio’s shoulder, and a sharp, delicious pain spread from the fresh mark.

  Antonio tilted his head back with a groan. “It hurts.”

  “Do you want me to stop?” Justin asked.

  “Christ, no.”

  Justin’s chuckle rolled over Antonio, raising goosebumps in its wake. A second later, cold lube delivered with fingers met Antonio’s ass, and he hissed through gritted teeth. A groan tore from his throat when Justin nudged his opening, pushing inside enough to tempt.

  Emily watched, lips parted in a silent gasp, and spread her legs wider, giving Antonio a perfect view of her glistening sex. When Justin pressed against Antonio’s hole with the head of his cock, Antonio forced himself to relax. He’d been with enough men that the experience wasn’t new, but with Justin it might as well be.

  Justin hesitated, and Antonio pressed back into him, setting the pace and letting Justin in one excruciatingly slow inch at a time.

  Emily’s chest heaved, and she fingered her clit. Antonio knew that tempting, flushed look. She was near climax. That the moment turned her on as much as it did him made him so hard it ached.

  Justin buried himself to the hilt and grabbed Antonio’s hips. Antonio moaned, eyes closed, letting the sensation glide from his fingertips to his toes and focus on his dick.

  Justin rocked against Antonio slowly, stretching him out and stealing his reason. Something warm and wet slipped along his shaft, and he opened his eyes to see Emily kneeling at his feet, watching him with hungry green eyes as she stroked him.

  “I don’t want to come without you.” She gave him an exaggerated pout, before pulling her bottom lip up his length, and then taking him in her mouth.

  “Fuck.” Justin let out a guttural groan. “Watching you two is better than good whiskey.”

  Antonio didn’t know if he wanted to pound into Emily’s sucking, or grind back against Justin’s cock. He twisted his fingers in Emily’s hair and found a rhythm that let him do both.

  Antonio held her gaze, captivated, as she continued to stroke and lick. She dropped her free hand between her legs again, and the moan that rumbled through his shaft confirmed what he could only glimpse—she was fingering herself.

  He didn’t know which sensations to give his attention to. Her soft lips and hungry licks. Justin pounding into his ass. The sound of grunts mingling with the scent of arousal from the two people he loved.

  Emily gave a muffled whimper when she came, shuddering against his grip, and increasing her attentions on his dick.

  Justin clenched his fingers into Antonio’s hips hard enough to dig into his pelvis. That explained the tiny purple bruises Emily had sported the three weeks they worked together on PP together. The realization dialed up Antonio’s arousal another notch.

  He pulled Emily to her feet, grasped her wrist, and drew her fingers into his mouth one at a time. She tasted incredible. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. His cock dug into her stomach, and she wrapped a fist around it, pumping and driving the head into her belly.

  Justin’s thrusting was frantic now, and combined with Emily’s ministrations, made it impossible for Antonio to back. Orgasm spilled through and out of him, coating Emily’s hand and leaving a sticky mess between them.

  Justin slammed into Antonio hard and fast, his groans shifting to punctuated grunts. He let out a long, low yell, before slowing to a stop. He rested his head against Antonio’s shoulder, his gasps for breath hot and heavy on Antonio’s back.

  “God, I’m an idiot.” Justin’s lips moved against Antonio’s shoulder. “Taking so long to figure out what you already knew—that I love you.”

  Antonio was never going to get tired of hearing that.

  “Yeah, you are.” Emily smirked. She looked at Antonio. “But I suppose we’ve all been a bit dense.”

  Antonio expected a flash of jealousy at the playful teasing Emily and Justin slid into without effort. What he felt instead was a light heart and a release he never expected.

  Justin kissed up his neck, then nipped at his earlobe. “I’d be lost without you. I literally was.”

  “Figuratively,” Emily corrected him.

  “Me too,” Antonio said, knowing it didn’t quite make sense in the flow of conversation. They’d understand him anyway. He didn’t doubt it. This was perfect and then some.

  EMILY LOVED WAKING up next to Antonio, but she hadn’t realized how much she missed opening her eyes to him wrapped around her and seeing Justin next to her as well. Her heart stuttered with joy at the sight of the morning sunlight falling across his face and making his blue eyes as pale as ice.

  It was difficult to focus on that this morning. She’d awoken to Antonio’s arm draped over her hip, fingers teasing her mound. She squeezed her legs together. She was already wet from the attention.

  Justin brushed a curl off her forehead. “I’ve never forgotten how gorgeous you are first thing in the morning.”

  “Me or him?” Heat flooded her cheeks.

  “Both of you.” Justin kissed her.

  Antonio pulled away abruptly, stopping the attention on her tingling clit and letting the cool air rush in when the blankets fell away. He slapped her ass lightly. “We’re going to be late for work.”

  She rolled onto her back and gave him an exaggerated pout. “But I’m sleeping with the boss. Doesn’t that buy me an extra hour or two?”

  “Not when I have morning meetings.” Antonio offered her a hand and pulled her into a sitting position. He stood next to the bed, looking glorious and unashamed of the fact he wore nothing.

  “I can’t believe you two are talking business in bed,” Justin said.

  Emily looked back at him, brows raised. “Since when?”

  His scowl melted to laughter. “Sorry. I was trying to keep a straight face, but nope. Not happening.”

  “I really do have to get ready.” Antonio sounded disappointed. “I’d invite one or both of you to join me in the shower, but we tried that, and there’s not enough room.”

  “In that case, we’re going to need a bigger apartment, with a huge master bath,” Justin said.

  Emily eyed him. “We?”

  Justin stared back unflinching. “And a bigger bed. King sized, for sure.”

  “You’ve put a lot of thought into this.” Emily loved the certainty in his statements.

  “Nope. I’m making it up as I go along, and leaving the details up to the two of you.”

  “Sweet of you.” Antonio tugged Emily to her feet. “Some of us decided to get jobs, rather than live off fat buyout checks, so we really do need to get going.” His stern expression melted into a smile. “Have your lawyer call mine, so I can get you on a similar schedule sooner rather than later?”

  “I will.” Justin said. “Set a spare desk aside for me.”

  Contentment and satisfaction rolled through Emily. The arrangement might be atypical, and getting here had been a bit rough, but she was exactly where she belonged and had no doubt Antonio and Justin felt the same way.

  Epilogue

  SIX MONTHS LATER

  Emily rested in the tattoo chair, trying to focus on the hum of the needle, rather than the piercing sensation as Tara dragged it along her breastbone. This was the last sitting Emily needed, before the artwork was in place.

  Tara had drawn the design at Antonio’s request. A birthday present to Emily. A dragon wrapped around the left side of her neck, body and head slithering down her collarbone. She’d had that one done first, despite Justin’s very v
ocal and less-than-serious protests about her picking the phoenix second.

  The bird’s tail intertwined with the beasts on the back of her neck, and the feathered flames ran along the right side. Their heads came together between her breasts, leaving room for the sparrow that soared up her sternum.

  Emily was in awe of Tara’s talent, not only with the design, but also with the tattoo gun. Tara was a graphic artist, and had been with the company for years. When her marriage fell apart a few months ago, she needed an escape. She surrendered it all and started the tattoo parlor.

  Emily got the impression there was a lot more to the marriage story than she’d heard, but Tara was tightlipped about the details, and that was her right. Emily was happy to see her pull out of the mire. She liked Antonio’s family, and especially his sister.

  The needle hit bone again. Emily clenched her jaw and squeezed Antonio’s hand. Justin had tried to warn her that anything so close to bone was going to hurt more than a fleshy region. He suggested she start smaller, like with a simple image on her calf.

  She told him a little pain never hurt anyone, and he stopped arguing.

  Right now, he straddled the chair across from her, chin and arms resting on the back and gaze holding hers, to help her focus.

  He looked away and reached for his phone. She rolled her eyes but didn’t mind that he was as addicted to the job as he’d ever been. Having Antonio’s infrastructure and international contacts gave Justin a freedom he never had before, and she saw how happy it made him. Besides, all three of them were a part of the same machine, as intertwined with the job as they were with each other.

  She fell back into the pain, gripping Antonio’s hand until she was concerned she’d cut off his circulation.

  “All done,” Tara said, at the same time Justin said, “Fuck me.”

  “At least let me finish, before you share whatever that news is,” Tara told him. She cleaned up Emily’s chest, then helped her sit and face a mirror.

  “It’s amazing,” Emily said, awe filling her.

  “Thank you.” Tara covered it up. “You know the rules for care. I’m sure you can find someone to help you keep lotion on it if you’re having trouble.” She didn’t bat an eye when Antonio told her about the relationship, but Emily swore she occasionally caught Tara watching them with a trace of envy.

  Antonio helped her to her feet and hovered his hand over the plastic. “I wish these didn’t take so long to heal.”

  “Take that sappy shit home. Or anywhere but here.” Tara’s retort was gruff, but affection lay underneath.

  Justin joined them, pressing his fingers into Emily’s skin along the edges of the fresh scars. She gasped at the rush of pain and endorphins. It only took her first visit to the parlor, to realize he knew where to touch, to draw a groan without doing damage.

  “That goes for both of you,” Tara snapped. “Not in my shop.”

  “We’re behaving. Thank you again. For everything.” Emily gave her a hug. Goodbyes were exchanged, and Emily left with Justin and Antonio.

  They were within walking distance of their apartment. Though it was winter, and colder here than Emily was used to, it wasn’t too chilly for a stroll. She still enjoyed seeing the city covered in glistening crystals of ice and sunshine.

  She strolled a few feet ahead, her attention flitting wherever it was drawn. It was lovely to be hand in hand with Antonio, Justin, or both of them, but it was just as much fun to watch them hold hands. Today she took in the scenery, while the men enjoyed each other’s company.

  “Is someone going to ask?” Justin’s question carried from behind.

  She glanced over her shoulder, but before she could reply, Antonio said, “Maybe. After you’ve squirmed with the news a little longer.”

  “You’re such a dick.” There was no malice in Justin’s voice.

  “I want to know.” Emily paused, to snap a picture of the sunlight streaming between buildings and striking the stone at her feet.

  “Thank you.” Justin sounded smug. “How would you, my favorite siren, like to take an implementation team and go to London for a month?”

  She whirled to face him, grin stuck on her face. “You landed Oxford?”

  “We did,” he said.

  “Why didn’t you say so?” Antonio asked.

  Justin laughed. “I take it back. You’re not a dick. You’re a massive dick.”

  “You’d know,” Antonio said, teasing in his voice.

  The comment was enough to make Justin pause. These were the only times Emily saw Justin hesitate—the jokes about liking men still tripped him up. He didn’t care who knew about him and Antonio, but he wasn’t used to being on that side of the teasing.

  She thought it was adorabl­e, which he didn’t appreciate. “London sounds amazing.” She pulled the topic back to his news. They’d discussed how this would work. Justin would travel with her and a small team, to bring the school online with their new product. Antonio couldn’t leave the office in stretches like that, but he’d visit on weekends and whenever his schedule allowed.

  The entire setup—not just the foreign accounts, but also, and most importantly, the two wonderful men next to her—was something she never would have dared imagine for herself. But now that she’d tasted it—lived it—she wouldn’t give it up for anything. This was exactly where and what she wanted to be.

  THE END

  ~*~

  If you’d like to see Cynthia figure out love is more than just an equation, check out The Nerds and The Matchmaker. Keep reading for a free sneak peek

  If you’re wondering how Andrew and Susan found each other, read The Virgin and The Kingpin, available exclusively in the Holiday’s Ever After box set.

  The Nerds and The Matchmaker Chapter One

  REGARDLESS OF HOW MUCH money the participants had, the game never changed; the stakes just got higher. Curiosity made Aaron want to watch the scam play out, but propriety and the lack of desire to see someone hustled won. He joined the group of gentlemen clustered around a woman in a blue dress with a plunging neckline.

  The pack stood near the back of the art gallery. They all wore tailored suits, and the woman in the middle—Aaron was calling her Ms. Blue while he observed—held their attention. Except for one man, who spent more time searching the faces of those around him, than trying to catch a glimpse down the front of Ms. Blue’s dress. That must be her partner.

  “It’s a tragic story.” Aaron pulled his wallet from his back pocket and plucked out a bill. “I’ll give you twenty dollars and two cough drops for the painting. I hate to see a lady in distress.”

  Her partner snorted. “You’re insulting a mourning woman.”

  Murmurs of agreement rippled among her pack.

  “I’m truly sorry for your loss, miss.” Aaron kept the sympathy in his tone. “I feel for your situation, but if the painting isn’t worth anything...” If he walked into the middle of the group and proclaimed her a gold-digger, out to steal someone’s money, no one would listen. She had them captivated. But if he looked like he was on her side, trying to stop these men from taking advantage of a grieving woman, the hustle would break up, and he and his business partners wouldn’t have to deal with it happening on their property.

  “This isn’t about the worth of the painting.” Her partner pushed. To the woman, he said, “You don’t need any more grief in your life. I’ll give you two thousand, for this unremarkable piece of art.”

  She choked on her champagne. “How much? For a worthless piece of canvas? But why?”

  The mark cut in. “Because he’s a cheapskate. I’ll give you five thousand.”

  Aaron feigned shock. “So many generous strangers.” He leaned closer to Ms. Blue, and spoke in a stage whisper. “I’d be careful, miss. I believe in charity, but if he’s willing to pay you more than a couple of bucks for a worthless painting... perhaps it’s worth more than he’s saying.”

  The mark flushed bright red. “Are you implying I’d take advantage of th
is poor woman?”

  “I would never.” Aaron kept just as much indignation in his voice. Then he winked at Ms. Blue. “I totally am. I’d get out now, if I were you, before this man tries to steal more than your priceless Picasso.”

  Ms. Blue nodded at Aaron, no longer looking at anyone else. “Thank you.” The sweetness vanished from her voice. “Apparently I almost made a terrible mistake.”

  “Don’t mention it.” He turned his attention back to the photography exhibition, as the group dispersed. He’d enjoyed watching the hustle as a throwback to his teenage years. However, he was here for the art. It held a kind of joy and innocence the world didn’t display in long stretches. A charm that was pleasant to drift into for moments at a time.

  A hand on his arm drew his attention. “Aaron Birch.” It was Ms. Blue. “I’m Katy. I’d have ditched the loser and low-end hustle, and come learn from you, if I’d known the Four-Billion-Dollar Master would be here tonight.”

  He hated that nickname. “I don’t normally give lessons.”

  “I can make it worth your time.” She traced a finger along the plunging V of her dress.

  If her version of playful banter was as good as or better than her hustle, he’d see this through, to find out whose bedroom they ended up in. “What kind of conversion rate do I get on that?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Is this a penny-per-minute thing? Three-ninety-nine an hour?”

  She frowned. “I’m not a whore.”

  “I never said you were. It’s about the back and forth, see? Worth my time leads to conversion rate, which segues to value...” He shook his head. It was no fun if it had to be explained. “I’m sorry, Ms. Blue. I don’t think we’re on the same page.”

  “It’s Katy. I’m just a little tired. Not paying attention. I get it.”

  Aaron trailed his gaze around the room, stopping on each face before moving to the next. “We both know you’re as much a Ms. Blue as a Katy. Thank you for adding a little spice to my evening, but my date is waiting, and—fair warning—she’s the jealous type.” And there she was. Or rather, he hoped she’d act like his companion long enough to kill Ms. Blue’s interest.