The After Party (A Badboys Boxset)

by Karr, Kim

I just couldn’t wait to start my new job.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  JAXSON

  THE SHOT CALLED FOR A sandy butt. Believe it or not, this had a name. It was called the ‘Sugar Cookie’.

  I watched as Sadie mixed some glitter in the sand.

  “Nothing too crazy,” I instructed, “Only enough to make Miranda’s skin look a bit shimmery.”

  Sadie threw her gaze toward me. “You’ve told me that three times.”

  “Just making sure that you know not to overdo it.”

  She poured the glitter sparingly over the white crystals.

  “That’s enough.”

  She narrowed her stare at me. “I’m aware.”

  The sass needed to be addressed, but all in all, things between us as employer/employee were going very well.

  The last of the day’s light was upon us and time was of the essence. Miranda was on her way down to the beach for the next and final shot of the day.

  The waves piggybacked and roared before collapsing on to the sand with a clap and a hiss that reverberated the length of the beach.

  I tried some different filters and practice-shots with my reflector while I waited and attempted to ignore the desire I felt for the woman playing around in the sand.

  I knew Sadie wasn’t wearing any underwear, and the knowledge was driving me insane. The thought of having untethered access to her sweet pussy seemed like a fantasy I might have wanted to try out, if I wanted to have sex with her, that was, which I did not.

  I absolutely did not.

  Okay, so I did.

  Not only was it getting harder and harder to deny with each passing second, but my thoughts were getting dirty and dirtier. It was easy to blame it on the newly unleashed Butch in me. The caveman side I never knew I had, which was making an emergence.

  Taking what she’d told me, I conveyed it to my ex-fiancée’s cousin, Finn Easton. He was a hacker with a degree in computer engineering he was never going to use.

  He’d done some digging into Theodore Banks, who I now know to be her father, but had to stop while he took a planned trip to Los Angeles.

  Finn’s unemployed and searching for direction. His passion had always been fighting, and he’s finally looking to pursue that path. When he got back from meeting with a prospective coach, he told me he’d keep looking into it.

  I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I had to wonder if even Sadie knew the whole truth.

  The deaths.

  The airline.

  Her.

  There were a lot of pieces that didn’t fit, and then again, there were a lot of pieces that did.

  For now, I was keeping any thoughts I had to myself.

  Sadie bent over in her orange dress with a flouncy skirt, and I wanted to bend right over her. Lift her dress, unzip my fly, and grab her hips to pull her back against me. Yeah, the whole working-off-her-debt-on-her-back thing was looking better and better with every passing minute.

  Dirty.

  Dirty.

  Dirty.

  I didn’t know what we were about, other than what we had that one night was carnal. Raw. Savage. And I wanted it again.

  But she worked for me now, and it wasn’t right.

  But we had sex before she worked for me, and she was only working for me because she stole from me.

  But.

  But.

  But.

  Shit, what a fucked-up situation I had put myself in, and I felt like my morals were going up in smoke with each passing day.

  I needed to focus on my job. Concentrate. Block everything else out, and work on taking the best Goddamned pictures Sports Illustrated had ever seen.

  “Here I am,” Miranda called, bouncing onto the set. When she reached us, she got right to work unbuttoning her shirt and dropping it.

  Her tits were the size of grapefruits, and Sadie’s eyes popped. This was the first nude of the day, and I wasn’t sure Sadie was expecting it. I almost laughed at the shocked look on her face. I thought I had mentioned it, but I guess I hadn’t.

  Miranda had great tits, but I saw them as works of art, nothing more. Sadly, they weren’t going to be in this shot. No, for this one she would be looking over her shoulder at the camera. The focus would be on her backside, clad in a black thong that was both tiny and tight.

  I gave her my pep talk and the rundown of what I wanted her to do.

  “Sounds easy,” she told me.

  I clapped my hands together. “Great! Then let’s do this,” I said.

  Sadie grabbed the water bottle but then hesitated.

  “Before we lose the sunlight,” I snapped at her.

  “It’s okay. I’m ready.” Miranda bent at the waist, sticking her peach of an ass out. She’d done this before and was a pro. I had to say I liked working with her. She was easy. Carefree. And up for anything.

  I watched as Sadie carefully sprayed the water on Miranda’s ass in a circular motion.

  “That’s cold,” Miranda giggled.

  “I’m sorry,” Sadie said as she finished and then hurried around Miranda to take her outstretched hands.

  “It’s all good.”

  “How can I help you?” Sadie asked.

  “Oh, I got this,” Miranda replied, and she did a little squat to dip her ass in the sand/glitter combination Sadie had created and then stood.

  I had to admit, watching Sadie was amusing. She looked horrified. Naïve. A novice at this. She said she was bad, but right now I didn’t see anything but good.

  When Miranda stood, Sadie used the brush to wipe the excess away and then arranged the long gold chains that hung down Miranda’s back.

  “Perfect,” I called, and Sadie stepped aside. Honestly, she was really good at this. Then again, she came from the world of print and knew what it took to create art.

  Miranda neared the water and sank her knees into the sand. Everything was in place, and the jade and turquoise sea with the trunks of palms in the distance was the absolute perfect backdrop.

  I started shooting just as the sun began to set.

  Fifty.

  One hundred frames.

  And I wasn’t done.

  “Pull your hair up,” I told Miranda.

  She did.

  “Turn your head over the other shoulder.”

  She did.

  “Gorgeous.”

  These photos were going to be everything I’d hoped. The sun glimmered off the sand, sending small twinkles that caught on the gold ropes that hung down her back.

  “It’s a wrap,” I called after capturing more than three hundred frames.

  Sadie handed Miranda her top.

  Standing up, she took it but didn’t put it on. “You coming out tonight?” Miranda asked as she brushed the sand from her stomach.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “You should totally come. We’re going to a disco in St. John, and it’s supposed to be amazing.”

  “Maybe next time,” Sadie said, and right then the glitter she had sprayed earlier, and was still floating in the air, landed on her own face. It glimmered beautifully on her cheeks in the last rays of the sun.

  I picked up my camera and started shooting, no one the wiser.

  Soon though, Miranda looked at me. Used to seeing my lens at eye level, she ignored it. “What about you, Sundance?”

  I lowered my camera. “Another time.”

  She shook her head. “You’re both no fun,” she accused, and then rushed off, her tits bouncing and her shirt in her hand.

  That was a wrap.

  Once Miranda was out of sight, Sadie and I were alone on the deserted beach tucked away inside a cove.

  The day had been crazy busy, and we’d barely had time to say two non-related work words to each other.

  Sadie started to pack up the props, and I went to work putting my gear into my bags. When I was done, I raised my lens once more and aimed it at her.

  Snap.

  Click.

  “What are you doing?”
she asked.

  “Taking your picture.”

  She covered her face. “I’m a mess.”

  “No, you’re not. You look beautiful.” The horizon bled orange, and the light was almost gone, but I captured what I could before it vanished. “Take your dress off.”

  Shocked, she gawked at me. “No way.”

  “Yes, way. Take it off.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to take your picture.”

  She zipped up one of the duffle bags. “Like I said, no way, I’m not a model.”

  I moved a little closer. “You’re whatever I want you to be, remember?”

  Sadie gave me the double bird, and fuck me if my cock didn’t salute her right back. Blood rushed like excitement right to my dick.

  I took a seat on one of the giant rocks. We were far away from the resort, tucked away in the privacy of a cove, and no one was around. “Come here,” I ordered.

  She ignored me and just kept doing what she was doing.

  “Sadie, come here.” My tone was like steel.

  It got her attention, and she walked my way. “What do you want?” she asked, rebellion clear in her own tone.

  “To practice my craft on my assistant,” I said wryly.

  She rolled her eyes.

  “I’m serious, Sadie. Take your dress off. I want to practice some new shots on you before tomorrow’s shoot.”

  Okay, I was being a bit of a dick, but I had the right. And besides, I hated to ‘spray and pray’. I would rather spend an extra twenty minutes now figuring out the poses I needed to get the best shots for tomorrow rather than allowing the model to flail around like one of those inflatable dancing dolls.

  “But I’m naked underneath,” she whispered, as if someone might hear her.

  “I know,” I whispered back. “If you makes you feel better I can pretend you’re wearing a bikini top. I need to get a feel for the zoom on your tits to get the right amount of cleavage for the shot.”

  Her hesitation was evident. With the models, I would say breasts, but with her, tits was the word that came out.

  Filthy.

  I felt like being filthy.

  With her, I felt like a savage. I wanted to be savage. Maybe to punish her. Maybe to satisfy some masochist need. Maybe to make it clear she owed me. Or maybe so she knew she didn’t mean anything to me because she didn’t. My body reacted to her in the most unexplainable way, but that was all there was to it.

  Chemistry.

  A dick and a cunt that yearned to be close.

  Chemistry.

  A boy and a girl and the need for sex.

  A story older than time.

  Sadie obeyed and hesitantly pulled the dress over her head. Bandages were wrapped around her ribs, and I instantly regretted making her undress. Still, I’d gone this far, and I was going to finish it.

  “Press your tits together with your palms and lift your chin.”

  There was hesitation in her movement.

  I snapped my fingers. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

  She did as I asked.

  “Loosen up.”

  She rolled her eyes again, but her body relaxed.

  “That’s it. Right there. Now show me you know you look hot.”

  “How am I supposed to do that?” she scoffed.

  “Seduce me with your eyes and your mouth. Lick your lips and then make an O with them. Make the camera want you, Sadie. Make the reader want you.”

  I didn’t have to say make me want you, because fuck, I already did.

  She bit down on her lip and the look she gave me seduced me. It was strange how she could want to defy me and give me what I wanted at the same time.

  I knew if I weren’t holding the trump card, our fight for control would be much harder. Even in the shitty situation she was in, she was a challenge, and I liked it.

  Sadie moved for me now. Gave into my demands. And she did it beautifully.

  “That’s it,” I said, “Now give me a look that would make any guys balls ache.”

  I was being vulgar, and the more vulgar I was, the more she shined for the camera, for me.

  “That’s it. Hold it right there.”

  Snap.

  Snap.

  Click.

  My entire body went taut.

  I looked into the viewer.

  It was the perfect shot.

  In that moment, I not only knew Sadie was made for the camera, but I also feared she was made for me. I knew I had to keep my distance, or I was going to give in to what I wanted and shouldn’t have.

  And that was her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  SADIE

  I STARED AT MY PHONE.

  It had been dead since I got on the plane to come to this island and I finally charged it. I’d put it off, blaming it on work, but the truth was I was afraid of what Simon was going to tell me when I texted him and asked him about Riley.

  What if he couldn’t get the money?

  What if Riley couldn’t walk?

  How could I live with myself?

  Praying everything turned out alright, I picked up my phone. With shaky fingers, I texted:

  Me: How’s Riley?

  I waited.

  No response.

  Maybe the distance or the different countries caused a delay.

  I waited some more.

  And waited.

  And waited.

  Nothing.

  Pacing the room, I didn’t know what to do. I was by myself. Jaxson had taken a trip into town to get some supplies for the shoot in St. Kitts tomorrow. I’d offered to go with him, but he turned me down. He said he had some personal things to take care of while he was out. Basically, he didn’t want me around.

  I got it.

  Five days of shooting had passed, and Jaxson had barely said a word to me, other than to order me around at work,

  We were roommates who slept in the same bed, who worked together, ate together, and apparently said very little to each other.

  In fact, after he demanded I pose for him, naked, I might add, he hadn’t so much as looked at me sideways or breathed in my direction.

  It wasn’t like I expected him to fall for me. I knew what he was about since our very first hello. For some reason, though, after the night we talked, I thought we had crossed some line. Turned out that line was only in my head.

  And besides, if the silent treatment was my punishment, it wasn’t like I didn’t deserve it. I owed him thirty-five plus thousand dollars, and thirty-six hours of work barely put a dent in that debt.

  Step 7: Humbly ask Him to remove our shortcomings.

  Speaking of money. I glanced at my phone again wondering if Simon had finished what I couldn’t and gotten the funds for Riley.

  Still nothing.

  I was uncertain if there was a delay in transmission due to the distance, so I would wait.

  Biting my lip, I stared at the bottle of Jameson on the bar but decided against it.

  It wasn’t even five.

  I needed a distraction. My fingers itched to type. To write. I grabbed my phone and brought up my notepad. I didn’t have a column to write for anymore, but I couldn’t stop my brain from thinking that way.

  Tap.

  Tap.

  Tap.

  I hit the letters on the screen.

  It felt so good.

  Falling in Love

  Falling In love with a country, not a man, what a novel idea. As soon as I laid eyes on Antigua, it was love at first sight. The turquoise waters, the white powdery sand, the dramatic landscape of the surrounding volcanoes acting as a backdrop to the brightly colored streets. Every time the sun sets, it leaves an orange ethereal glow in its midst. It’s romantic and alluring and seductive all at the same time.

  I stopped tapping, unsure if I was talking about Antigua or Jaxson.

  A sadness hit me. I’d lost my job and basically become an indentured servant to a man who I didn’t even really know, and I was attracted to him. A
ttracted beyond words.

  Not understanding what was happening to me, I tossed my phone down and decided that drink sounded pretty good.

  I poured a generous amount and swigged it down. The whiskey was smooth as it flowed down my throat.

  And then I drank another.

  It was just to calm my nerves down.

  I wasn’t like my father.

  After pacing back and forth, and waiting for a text that still had yet to come, I picked up my phone again, and this time brought up my browser.

  Curiosity got the better of me, and I typed two words into my browser—Sundance Photography. The link to his website popped up instantly. I clicked it and read what came up.

  ***P E R M A N E N T L Y C L O S E D***

  Jaxson Cassidy

  SUNDANCE PHOTOGRAPHY

  ABOUT WEDDINGS MODELS PROJECTS COMMERCIAL INSTAGRAM

  Welcome to the official site of Sundance Photography.

  Jaxson Cassidy is an award-winning wedding, portrait, landscape, and fashion photographer.

  He is a Sony Artisan of Imagery who is about to pursue his passion as he takes on the biggest assignment of his life shooting the upcoming year’s Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition.

  Look for it, and for what’s next in the coming months.

  Award-winning.

  I had no idea. I clicked on the tabs and spent the next twenty minutes soaking in all things Jaxson Cassidy, actually, Sundance, the photographer.

  When I was done, with only a slight hesitance, I typed his father’s name. It was not an invasion of privacy since he’d told me about him. I clicked on the first article.

  GULF WAR MYSTERY ENDS

  U.S. Department of Defense

  August 2, 2009

  A nearly two-decade old mystery surrounding the first American soldier lost in the gulf war has been solved. Remains recovered in Iraq have been identified as Captain Michael Cassidy, whose jet went down on January 17, 1991. His military status, which has been missing in action, will be changed to killed in action. His family looks forward to bringing his body home.

  Rivers of tears coated my cheeks as I envisioned Jaxson cleaning up the yellow ribbons that had become a part of his life. I didn’t read anymore. I couldn’t. My father came home from his tour. Although I had seen pictures of those yellow ribbons tied around our trees, I wasn’t old enough to remember them. I never looked at myself as lucky, but I did right then.