Exposure

by Ember Dante

  “Before you make any hasty decisions, consider this. I’ll take you to Release, and you can write what he wants. Hell, for that matter, I could probably give you enough information to fake it. Either way, we’ll make it work. Then you can decide if you want to tell him to fuck off.”

  My eyebrows lifted. “You’d do that for me?”

  “Yes, baby, I would. When is your deadline?”

  “He wants the first draft by June twelfth.”

  “I’m supposed to go there sometime within the next couple weeks. I don’t have a firm date yet, but you can go with me if you want. That should give you more than enough source material to work with.” Leaning closer, his brows furrowed and his fingers closed around my wrist. “For the record, if your boss ever pulls another stunt like this, I am going to kick his ass.” He blew out a breath. “Do your friends know about this? Did you tell Tyler?”

  “No. I wanted to talk to you first.”

  “Well, think about it and let me know what you want to do. We’ll make it work, whatever you decide.”

  “Okay.” I smiled, relieved our discussion about Kyle didn’t derail the evening.

  Our food arrived, and with it, new conversation. The food was amazing, but the company was even better. There was no pressure to fill every moment with chatter, and much of our communication was silent—a simple touch, or glance. The server returned and cleared our empty entree plates as we ordered coffee to linger over, neither of us ready to end the evening.

  “Dessert?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure where I’d put it with all that chicken piccata,” I groaned, patting my belly.

  “I’m not sure I have room either, but sometimes it’s fun to splurge, right?”

  That voice. Smooth and seductive, a perfect match for the smoldering look on his face. I reached for my water glass, suddenly parched and overheated. My thoughts drifted into naughty territory, and what would make a truly memorable dessert—caramel sauce drizzled over Ian. It would be quite sticky, but also so much fun trying to clean it all off. With my tongue.

  “I’ll split something,” I breathed, my voice choked and strained by the decadent images scrolling through my mind.

  His mouth curved into a carnal smile as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. He said I didn’t have a very good poker face, so he probably did. I needed to work on that.

  “What would my lady like?”

  Oh yeah. He knew. “The apple crostata sounded great. Is that okay with you?”

  “Whatever you want, babe,” he said with a wink.

  Thankfully, our waiter returned, providing a much-needed distraction, and we ordered dessert and more coffee.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.”

  “Would you tell me more about Release? For my own curiosity more than anything else.”

  The look of playful seduction vanished, and he leaned back in his chair. “What do you want to know?”

  “I don’t know,” I murmured, suddenly feeling stupid for asking. “What’s it like?”

  “Imagine a jazz club crossed with Fifty Shades of Grey and Eyes Wide Shut.”

  “Is that really what it’s like, or are you just saying that?”

  “Anything and everything you could imagine—and some things you probably couldn’t—have happened there. I’ve seen it. Photographed it.”

  I rested my forearms on the table and leaned closer. “I’m not a delicate flower, you know. You don’t have to protect me. I’d like to know what to expect. You know, in case I go with you.”

  “Emmy…” he sighed.

  “What? Why don’t you want to tell me?”

  His eyes closed briefly, and when they reopened, he almost looked sad. “I wish I’d never mentioned the damn place,” he mumbled.

  “Ian, what’s the big deal?”

  Straightening in his chair, he wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, massaging away tension. I’d seen him do it before when he wasn’t entirely comfortable during a conversation.

  “It’s a pretty exclusive place. Most of the clients are wealthy, not to mention some pretty big names in Dallas society. I’m sure you’re familiar with the type—the folks who like to drink, but don’t want anyone to see them do it in public, so they stick to what they consider ‘lower class’ establishments.” He paused, and I nodded, although I wasn’t sure he really wanted my input. “This place gives them a safe, public venue where they can explore whatever form of kink gets them off with others who enjoy the same things.”

  “Is Release the only place like that in town?”

  “No. I’ve heard of others, but I’ve never been to any of them. As I told you during the interview, I only go there when my services are required. I’m not into voyeurism or exhibitionism—I prefer to keep my sex life private, but I’ve walked in and seen naked women stretched across tables being eaten out while their partner was waiting for a martini, and women under tables giving head while the dude they were with carried on a conversation or made out with someone else. The clients are allowed to do pretty much whatever they want, wherever they want, but the really kinky shit takes place in the private rooms, which is also where I photograph them. There are only two rules—no children and no animals.”

  “Uh ... I guess those rules are actually necessary?” I choked.

  He gave me a deadpan look and backed away so the waiter could place the plate filled with warm apple goodness between us. Ian had a brief reprieve from telling me more as we dug in. Hell yes, it was divine. Hmm...rather than caramel sauce, maybe I could smear our dessert all over him—especially the salted caramel gelato. To die for.

  Ian rested his spoon on the side of the plate and swiped his napkin across his lips. “Emmy, I don’t judge people for their predilections and whatever the fuck they want to do in their own homes, or whomever the fuck they want to do it with, but I sure as hell don’t enjoy witnessing it first hand. Most of the members are decent people, but believe me when I say that some of them are real freaks.”

  He reached for my hand, clasping it in a gentle, yet firm grip. “I’m not trying to be a dick, babe, but I also want you to understand what you’d be walking into if you decide to go.” He lifted my hand and pressed his lips against my fingers.

  “I asked. You’re just giving me an honest answer.”

  “I’m not going to tell you what to do. Like I said earlier, I’ll take you with me if that’s what you want, but I won’t like it.”

  I nodded and squeezed his hand. “I appreciate that. I’ll think about it.”

  It was almost ten o’clock by the time we got back to my apartment. Not surprisingly, Ian was the perfect gentleman, opening my door for me and escorting me upstairs. What did shock me was how nervous I was about the end of our evening. My fingers trembled as I fished the keys from my bag and dropped them on the landing. What’s up with that? Bending at the waist, Ian scooped them up and slid the key in the lock, opening the door for me.

  “Are you coming in?” I asked, mentally crossing my fingers.

  “Not tonight.”

  “Why? Did I do something wrong?”

  The question was out before I could stop it and I cringed, ducking my head to hide my embarrassment.

  “Babe…” His voice was soft, and he pulled me to him, folding me in his arms. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You have no idea how badly I want to stay, but that isn’t what tonight was all about.”

  Releasing me, he stepped back and tilted my chin. “This was the first date we should have had. In fact, I should have done this Friday rather than have you come over.”

  “I didn’t have any complaints about that.”

  “I’m not complaining now, baby,” he murmured, his thumbs stroking my jaw. “I’m just trying to say that you deserve better. My mother taught me how a woman should be treated, and so far I haven’t followed her example very well. I apologize for that. Do you remember what I said Saturday?”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

/>   “I meant every word. I want this—us—to be real. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He cupped my face with both hands and leaned closer until only a breath separated us. His eyes fluttered closed a fraction of a second before mine, which was a fraction of a second before our lips met. The only other point of contact was his hands on my face. It was sweet and slow, and absolutely perfect. Ian pulled away and rested his forehead against mine, his fingers slipping through my hair. He took several deep breaths before pressing his lips to the space between my brows.

  “Goodnight, Beautiful.”

  “Goodnight.”

  He waited until I locked the door behind me before leaving. I sagged against it, replaying the entire evening in my mind. Whatever thoughts I had about my feelings for him had just been shot to hell. I took it all back. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that I was falling—no, scratch that. I was tumbling, plummeting—head over heels, irrevocably, in love with that man.

  Tyler must have been lying in wait because he pounced and damn near dragged me to my office as soon as I walked through the door. I hadn’t even had coffee yet, damn it. He pushed the door closed and leaned against it, wearing the most serious expression I’d ever seen on him.

  “What the hell was with you yesterday?”

  “Good morning, Ty. How are you today?” I smiled sweetly and dropped my belongings on my desk so I could begin my day. “I’ve left early before. What makes you think anything was wrong?”

  He left his post at the door and dropped into a chair. “Because I know you, that’s what. Aside from that, Becky was running her mouth yesterday afternoon about Kyle’s critique of your article. Talk to me, Emmy Lou.”

  “How the hell does she know what he said?” I grumbled, then shook it off. “Whatever. Kyle found out Miles and Ian are one and the same.”

  “How?”

  “He looked up his business records on file with the city.” I gave him a half smile. “It was the same thing I did.”

  Tyler just stared, waiting for me to continue. I shook my head and rubbed my fingers across my brow. I gave him a brief explanation of what Kyle wanted.

  “What the fuck?”

  I laughed at the outburst, a typical Tyler response. “Yeah. Ian wasn’t happy about it, either.”

  “So you told him about that?”

  I nodded. “Last night. He wasn’t as upset as I thought he’d be until I told him about Kyle’s demand. Then he got pissed and said he wanted to kick Kyle’s ass.” I arched an eyebrow. “It was kind of hot.”

  Tyler shook his head in amusement. “Emmy Lou, you’ve got it bad.” He frowned. “So that’s it? Did he say anything else about Kyle?”

  I lifted one shoulder and swung my chair from side to side. “Not really. He offered to help me fake research if I don’t want to go to the club.”

  “You are one lucky bitch—you know that, right?”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “The man is obviously crazy about you.” Rolling his eyes, he waved me off before I could interrupt. “There aren’t many men who would go out of their way to help a woman like that, regardless of how great the sex was.”

  “I know he’s a great guy. I’ve told him that myself numerous times.” I blew out a breath. “I invited him to happy hour.”

  Tyler regarded me in silence long enough that I began to squirm in my seat. “I want an honest answer, Em. Time notwithstanding, how do you feel about him?”

  “If you had asked me that a few days ago, I would have simply said I really like him.”

  “I’m asking how you feel today.”

  I nodded, then told him about our dinner date, specifically the reasoning behind it. He hung on every word.

  “I’m still afraid that this may be happening too fast, but after last night…” I sighed. “I know I’m in deep. I can’t even use the word ‘fall.’ It’s more like an express elevator. I think I’m there. Hell, I may have already been there without even realizing it.” My lips twisted into a wry smile. “Does that sound stupid?”

  “Not at all.” One shoulder lifted and his head tipped to the same side. “Love is one of those emotions you can’t control. It happens when it happens.”

  Before I could comment, my phone chirped with an incoming text.

  Ian: Hey, Beautiful. Thinking of you.

  My face split into a wide grin as I read his message.

  Me: What are you thinking?

  Ian: How I can’t wait to see you again.

  A polite cough drew my attention back to an amused Tyler, who was studying me with an expectant smile on his face.

  “It’s Ian just saying hello.”

  “Uh-huh. I rest my case. The man is crazy about you.” He stood to leave. “I can’t wait for Friday. Happy hour just got a lot more interesting.”

  I waited until the door closed before sending my next text.

  Me: Neither can I. What are you doing? I thought you were working today?

  Ian: Taking a break. Models needed to change.

  I squashed a pang of jealousy by forcing myself to acknowledge that it was just his job when another text came through.

  Ian: I wanted to chat with my girlfriend while I waited.

  My breath left in a rush—it was as if he knew exactly what I needed to hear.

  Me: There you go again, saying the sweetest things.

  Several minutes passed before another text came through, but it was one I wasn’t expecting.

  Brett: How’s the most beautiful girl in Dallas?

  The smile left my face and I rolled my eyes at the lame message before deleting it. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I really wished he’d get the hint.

  I dismissed the unwanted contact from my mind when I received Ian’s next message.

  Ian: Gotta go, babe. Break’s over :( I have a ball game tonight. Wanna go?

  Me: YES!!

  I expected another text, but the phone rang in my hand. “Hey.”

  “Hey, Beautiful. I thought this might be easier—my thumbs are getting tired.” He laughed. “I have to be there by six-thirty. I can pick you up on my way if you want to ride with me. Otherwise, you can meet me there if that time doesn’t work.”

  “I can be ready to go by five forty-five. Will that work?”

  “Yes, ma’am. See you later, babe.”

  “Bye, handsome.”

  Grudgingly, I put away my phone and got to work, rewriting the article on Miles Shaw—my new boyfriend, as it were. I cursed Kyle once more for making my life so complicated and then dove into the assignment.

  I pulled my hair into a ponytail and slipped on denim capris, a T-shirt, and flip-flops. Ian was punctual, knocking promptly at 5:45. I grabbed my purse and sunglasses on my way to the door.

  It amazed me that his appearance could still catch me off guard. I drank him in, raking my eyes over him from head to toe.

  A blue ball cap emblazoned with the Texas Rangers logo sat on Ian’s head, his hair curling around the base. It made my fingers itch to ruffle through it. His broad shoulders and chest filled out the matching blue shirt that tapered down his torso to tuck inside the waistband of white baseball pants cinched with a black belt. A hint of red peeked out from underneath the collar of his blue shirt.

  His lips twisted into a smirk at my appraisal.

  “Are you ready, babe?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  Honestly, that’s all I could say as we walked side by side down the stairs. I wished he’d walk ahead of me because I really wanted to see how his ass filled out those pants. He helped me into the SUV before walking around the front to climb in his side. I didn’t think I’d ever get tired of watching the man move. He was graceful and masculine, and that was a lethal combination.

  “I didn’t know you played during the week,” I said.

  “We were rained out a few weeks ago, and this is the first chance we’ve had to play,” he explained, pulling into traffic. “I wasn’t originally scheduled to pitch against
this team, but I volunteered to move up in the rotation since Parker and I are going to watch the Rangers this Sunday.”

  “Thank you for asking me to go. I’ll admit I’m not a huge sports fan, but Dad loves baseball, so I grew up watching it. He does love his Rangers.”

  He propped his left hand on the top of the steering wheel and rested his right elbow on the console between us, reaching for my hand to bring my fingers to his lips. “Thanks for coming with me. I always need a cheering section. Fragile male ego, remember?” He winked.

  “Based on the things Parker said, I’m surprised you don’t have your own groupies following you everywhere.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Parker exaggerates. A lot.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.”

  A sidelong glance and chuckle were his only response as he threaded our fingers together. “How was your day?”

  “Fine, I guess.” I sucked in a breath. “I told Tyler about the Kyle situation. I also mentioned you’d be joining us Friday for happy hour.”

  “What did he say?”

  “About which one?”

  “Either.” He laughed.

  “He was pissed about Kyle, and not surprised about us.”

  “Tyler seems rather intuitive.”

  “Yeah, he is. That’s why I still kick myself in the ass about my ex. Tyler’s one of the people who tried to warn me about him.”

  He slowed, exiting the Tollway, and flipped the blinker for a left-hand turn at the light. “Don’t beat yourself up about that, babe. We don’t always want to hear the hard truths.”

  I turned toward him, incredulous. “Who are you? Gandhi? Buddha? Confucius?”

  Ian’s laughter filled the vehicle. “Hardly. I’m just speaking from personal experience.”

  He turned into a parking lot and parked near the clubhouse. It was almost full, which surprised me, considering it was a weeknight.

  “Looks like a great crowd,” I said.

  “Yeah. We’ve had a pretty good season so far. I think our fans are hoping we’ll make it to the championships again.” I hopped out the same time he did, earning a frown for my actions, and followed him to the back of the vehicle. He opened the back doors and sat so he could put on his cleats. As soon as he changed, he parted his legs and pulled me between his thighs, his hands resting on my hips. “I’m glad you’re here.”