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Her lips as they clung to his were succulent and mouthwatering. As she moved down his body, kissing his chest and licking his nipples, his balls drew up tight to his groin.
    The scent of sex surrounded him.
    Another body joined them, Braden cupping Chelsea’s breasts. He sucked one nipple into his mouth, leaving behind a trail of moisture. Jamie leaned over to taste the rosy tips of her breasts as well, and she hummed with delight. Braden’s flavor lingered on her skin.
    Chelsea kissed him again before pinning him back and mounting him, her body accepting his rigid length into her warmth. She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his, then turned and kissed Braden where he lay skin to skin at Jamie’s side. Braden stroked a hand down her body, past her hip to rest it on Jamie’s thigh. The touch of the other man made a jolt of lightning streak through his groin, and he thrust his cock upward, seeking more pressure, more stimulation.
    Another stroke, and this time Braden’s hand went lower, slipping between his legs. Large fingers cupped his balls and Jamie groaned.
    He was surrounded. Completed. Chelsea rocked over him, her cunt like a fitted glove, squeezing and conforming to his length. Braden rolled his balls, rubbing the skin below them, reaching toward his ass, and Jamie shuddered.
    His eyes popped open again. A cool zephyr blowing from the land out to the ocean snuck in the window and fanned his heated skin. His erection was achingly hard as he massaged his length. That much was true.
    He’d never had a homoerotic dream. Hell, he’d never had a ménage dream either. Before the anticipation in his limbs could escape, he stroked himself to completion, letting the vision of both Chelsea and Braden bring him to the place of release. Her gentle kiss, the rougher contact of Braden—the softness of her lips, the coarse scratch of his cheek. Jamie had played around in college, jerking off with another roommate. They’d even tried a little more, but it had all been an exercise in futility.
    Yet the thought of touching Braden, of being touched, was what he imagined as his release came. He covered his cock with his free hand to stop the spray of semen from hitting the sheets, the pressure and pleasure of his climax rolling through his body. Sticky seed coated his fingers, a few stray strands hot against his belly.
    He lay still, blood pounding through him for a long time before grabbing a handful of tissues and wiping himself clean.
    How in the hell was he supposed to keep working with Chelsea after this without wanting to explore the sensual side of the situation in more depth? Especially when the two of them seemed to be growing closer and closer? He’d been in Jaffrey’s Cove just over a week, and there was a definite friendship being established. Their playacting had morphed into something real as they talked for hours while they worked. Only Chelsea was still gaga over Braden, and Jamie… Well, he wished he wasn’t quite as attracted to the two of them, Chelsea and Braden both.
    He’d already agreed to accompany Chelsea to her dance club on Friday. While he was interested in seeing exactly what she did that made her family crazy, he was hesitant. Maybe he should tell her he was getting a little too attracted to her. Although that would make things more awkward during their time working together, and he really didn’t want to lose her company, or her help.
    All possibility of sleep now gone, his mind whirled with too many dilemmas. He rose and started his day. A cup of coffee in hand, he decided to catch up on the paperwork he’d been avoiding. He logged into his calendar on the computer, checking his notes closely.
    There were at least twenty emails from his mother and family, and he wondered what family tradition he’d managed to miss now. Probably something involving black ties and limousines. He cracked one open to see how bad it was. The ranting about his lack of attendance at the soirées of New