Read Working It for Free Online

Don’t worry. I like pussy.
    Sweet baby Jesus, did he just use that word? He did. He really went there. My jaw dropped open. Suddenly the room felt much too hot and the sheets rubbed against my bare skin annoyingly. I clamped a pillow between my knees and whimpered. Ben had actually just used the p-word.
Me: Good to hear. ;)
    He didn’t need to know I was a hot, whimpering mess.
Ben: Is that so?
Me: Umm . . . yes?
    I squealed and hid my face in my hands for a minute. This couldn’t be happening.
Ben: It’s fucking delicious.
    Oh. My. God. This information was not helping my growing crush on him. Not one bit.
Me: I feel the insane need to admit that I’m looking up pics of you online now.
    I didn’t know why I told him that, but I liked this brutal honesty thing that was happening between us.
Ben: I need more shirtless pics.
    Wait. Were we flirting? I didn’t know how to flirt. Did I? I heard Ellie’s voice inside my head. Step one: Remove his pants. I giggled and quickly typed out a response. I didn’t want him to think I was a total creeper; although to be fair, he did seem to be encouraging it.
Me: No, actually that’s not what I’m looking at. I like your lips and jaw.
Ben: You like them for what?
Me: Good for nibbling.
Ben: Mmm. I like sucking on lips.
    My heartbeat drummed in my chest. Ben Shaw could suck on my lips anytime.
Me: :)
    My only response was a smiley face, but damn. What did one say to that? There was no textbook, no manual for flirting with a highly unattainable model.
Ben: You like that, Miss Clarke?
Me: Very much, Mr. Shaw.
    This wasn’t me. I didn’t engage in dirty talk or flirty banter with models. While they worked out and watched their diets, I ate ice cream in my sweats and slept till noon on Sundays. I pretended to go to the gym, but I really just circled the parking lot looking for a spot. But I liked this new me he was bringing out. I felt confident. Though probably just because I was hidden behind a screen where I could blush and giggle all I wanted.
Ben: Good girl. I’ll see you in the morning.
Me: Yes. You’d better get your beauty sleep for tomorrow. ;)
Ben: Done. ;)
    I shut my laptop and rolled over in bed, the ridiculous-ass grin on my face refusing to fade.

4
    Emmy
    I was up early and had already made three trips between the hotel and the shoot location before 7 a.m. Thank goodness for the easy-to-navigate Metro. And the strong European coffee I’d downed at breakfast. Emailing back and forth with Ben the night before still seemed like a dream. My body was hyperaware that he’d be arriving soon, and though I was trying to focus, I was incredibly distracted, watching the door every few seconds.
    Thankfully, everything was running smoothly. Fiona had arrived fifteen minutes ago, the photographer and creative designer were discussing the set, and the makeup and hair people were setting up their stations. Our first model, Madeline, the girl Ben had gone out with the other night, was set to arrive soon. The shoot was for a magazine layout of a luxury brand of European clothing.
    We were in the courtyard of a beautiful hotel. Big green hedges surrounded a lovely fountain and lush green grass had been spray-painted to ensure it looked perfect. The morning was brisk but the sun was already shining. It was going to be a perfect day, and the elegant grounds were well suited for the sophisticated fall wardrobe look Ben and Madeline would be wearing.
    We also had reserved a meeting room inside the hotel, adjacent to the outdoor space. The doors had been propped open and people filtered in and out, arranging things and preparing for the shoot.
    Ben’s headshot was posted next to a cluster of hangers holding dark gray trousers, a silk button-down shirt in charcoal, a woven black tie, and a deep burgundy blazer. Really, he could be wearing a burlap sack and look stunning, but these clothes were gorgeous. The shoes were classic and dressy, too—intricate brown leather lace-ups with