Pure Lust Vol. 4

by M. S. Parker

  “So if you’ve already made the plans, those plans remain in place?” Estelle asked slowly.

  “That’s the way it was supposed to be. My atrocious purple, plum, orange and gold flowers remain, just like my plum dresses for the bridesmaids.”

  “Very good.” If I wasn’t mistaken, there was relief in her voice. “That will simplify a few things.”

  We spoke for a few more minutes as she ran over a few details she wanted to clear up and then she told me some of the ideas Claire had already run by her. Each one made me cringe, but I swallowed down my distaste and agreed. Except on one detail. “She’s suggesting we try the…ah. Well, I suppose you remember the day we did the cake tasting.”

  I already knew where this was heading. “I’m not eating that damn cake. I already have my cake ordered. Honey is making it. Period.”

  “Claire’s tried to cancel the order. Three times. Honey’s called me to clarify, so I wanted to get with you about it.”

  “No.” Pinching my nose, I said, “I’m having the cake I want. I won’t force anyone to eat that other shit.”

  Estelle coughed. “Of course. I’ll…handle it. Somehow.”

  “I think she’s doing it to punish me. Maybe we should order one cake from Madame and make Claire and her friends eat it,” I said darkly.

  Estelle surprised me by laughing. “It would be a punishment.”

  A few moments later, we hung up and I had no reason to delay the next item on my list. The next big item—one that couldn’t be avoided anymore.

  I had to let my family know.

  ***

  “My schedule won’t be a problem.”

  I’d called Catherine first, figuring she’d probably be the hardest. Suzanne was a teacher and still had a week before she had to start getting ready. Her husband, Pierce, worked with his parents at their local business, so time off wouldn’t be an issue. Duncan’s wife, Allison, stayed home with their kids and he had enough tenure at the mill to wrangle time off. Catherine had been working as a waitress during the day and picking up extra night shifts on a cleaning crew to support herself and her boys. Juggling those two schedules wouldn’t be easy.

  “Okay, that’s good—”

  “Well, there’s still a problem,” she said, cutting in. Her tone was sharp.

  “What?” The dull headache showed the promise of becoming a bad one. I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes.

  “Money, Gabs,” she snapped.

  My eyes snapped opened. Out of all of my siblings, Catherine and I had always gotten along the least. After she’d had Cameron, things had gotten worse. Like she’d thought I looked down on her or something. I was getting that tone from her again.

  “I’ve been saving. We all have, but I can’t swing it right now.”

  I could hear her unspoken accusation that I didn’t understand, especially now.

  I tamped down my temper and said the first thing that popped into my head. “What do you mean, you’ve been saving? Didn’t I tell you? Edward is flying the family in. It’s his wedding present to me.”

  “But...”

  “Don’t argue with me,” I said, cutting her off. I knew all of the arguments, had heard them all a million times over the years. “I know you don’t like taking things from people, but this is a wedding gift for me. He knew I was stressing about the strain it would put on all y’all to fly up here twice and he didn’t want me worrying. Also, he…well look, he didn’t want me telling anybody, either, so you can’t say anything to him. He was just planning on buying the tickets. Y’all have to come because he’s buying them today.”

  It took a few more minutes to wear her down, but I got what I wanted and then worked my way through the rest of my siblings before I called my parents.

  They would be both easy and hard. I knew they’d be there. Dad would have to bust his ass trying to find somebody to cover the farm for a few days, but they wouldn’t miss my wedding. Either one of them.

  The bad news, though…would they let me…err…Edward pay?

  ***

  The answer was yes, albeit reluctantly, and I told them I’d email the details to Mom once everything had been taken care of. I had a feeling if it hadn’t been for the fact that they knew there was no way they’d make it up here without ‘Edward’s’ help, they would’ve refused.

  Once I was finished on the phone, I started searching for flights. Within minutes, the cost was making me feel a little nauseated, but as soon as I’d said it, I’d prepared myself for an outrageous price. There were eighteen tickets to buy, after all. I couldn’t let Jackson come without his fiancé.

  Without letting myself think too much about it, I split it all between the three credit cards I’d almost paid off, working the flight schedules like a travel agent on crack. Some of them were flying in late Thursday, some were coming in on Friday. I’d had everybody give me the times that would work best and either God or fate was smiling on me, because I managed to get everybody in on a decent time.

  Thanks to the wonders of modern technology, I emailed their flight info to them and then sent a completed schedule with gate information to Paul. He’d already promised to make sure he had people at the airport to pick them up because there was no way I could manage that part. Besides, I figured that was a novelty my family could enjoy. Once that was done, I had no choice but to face the music.

  I needed a dress and fast because no way in hell was I going to wear the same dress twice or let Claire pick out a new one for me.

  I needed cash and fast, because I’d just completely maxed out all of my credit cards and essentially drained my bank account. I also needed a wedding gift for Edward and the one I’d been eying wasn’t going to come cheap. I couldn’t give him something less, not after all he’d done for me.

  All of that meant one thing.

  Flynn.

  Shit.

  ***

  Clothes are armor.

  Maybe I didn’t do all my shopping at Saks or Neiman Marcus, but I understood what clothing did for a woman. They did the same thing for a man, but not quite on the same level as a woman. The wrong set of clothes could totally drain morale, while the right ones could boost it. A cute skirt, kick-ass heels and a shirt that managed to hide the flaws while showcasing the assets made it possible to look even your mortal enemy in the eye and smile.

  Flynn wasn’t my mortal enemy, but he was a weakness and I needed to be able to face him without letting him see anything but confidence and determination. Hence, the careful planning of what I was going to wear.

  I gave myself a critical once-over. The cowboy boots paired with a mid-length denim skirt gave me the confidence. An office lace and silk tank top made me look cool and collected, professional yet casual. I’d pulled my hair back and up since I didn’t know how it would need to be styled. I’d wanted to wear at least a little bit of make-up, something to make my brown eyes look bigger, but since I didn’t know what I was going to need for the shoot, I didn’t put on anything extra.

  I looked as good as I was going to get.

  It was easy enough to get out of the house. Paul was out with Edward and I hadn’t told anybody I’d be leaving so all I’d needed to do was call for a cab. It wasn’t until I ducked out the front door that somebody from the staff saw me and called my name.

  “Miss Gabriella, we could have called for a car…”

  I waved Greta off as the yellow cab continued up the driveway. “Oh, don’t be silly. I love taking a cab. It’s an adventure.” I winked as I said it, shooting a grin at her. “I’ve just got some things to do. See you later!”

  She was still stammering out a reply as I climbed inside, but I pretended not to hear. I might have been her employer’s fiancé, but she didn’t approve of me any more than Claire did.

  Closing my eyes, I rested my head against the seat. When asked, I rattled off the address and then focused on calming the nerves that screamed inside me.

  The drive was too short. It felt like I’d bar
ely closed my eyes before the cab stopped and I found myself staring dumbly at the amount due without really understanding what I was seeing.

  “Everything okay?”

  I looked up at the cute Latino driving the cab and nodded. “Sorry. My brain is elsewhere. I’m getting married Saturday.”

  “Congratulations!” A wide grin split his face and, because the smile was real and it echoed in his eyes, I gave him a fat tip. I always tried to tip well. I’d waitressed some in high school and college so I knew what it was like to make it by on tips, but I only gave good ones when they were warranted. His sincerity was worth it.

  “Thank you.” Tucking my debit card back in my pocket as I slid out, I looked up at the building. I had to force myself to breathe now. My hand shook as I swiped it over my mouth.

  The blank eyes of the windows stared back at me as I stood there, remembering the full-figured, lush body of the woman Flynn had been with the last time I was here. Maybe he’d moved on from her the way he had from me. Maybe he’d gone and fallen for the last woman he’d had in front of his camera. I thought there was a book or a movie about an artist who fell in love with the women he painted. If an artist could fall for the women he painted, why couldn’t a photographer fall for the models in his photographs?

  Maybe that’s all this was and I was fixating on something that wasn’t even there. Maybe that was why he was fixating, just because I’d been in front of his camera. And for me, he was a distraction, something to let my mind worry on instead of the wedding.

  I seized on that and told myself to stop being stupid. The wedding would be over with soon and I could get on with my life with the man I loved. The big ceremony wouldn’t be anything more than a blip on my radar, the honeymoon a vacation.

  That’s all this is, I told myself. That’s all.

  It was a calming, comforting thought. Or it should have been.

  But it didn’t do anything to ease the turmoil inside.

  As a matter of fact, when I found myself standing in front of Flynn’s door, exactly as I had been only a few short days ago, I realized my heart was racing and I was sweating. Swiping my hands down the sides of my skirt, I went to open the door.

  A memory flash stopped me.

  Flynn’s strong hand sliding up a golden torso, cupping a full breast...

  If he was in there with another woman…

  I lifted my fist and knocked.

  Chapter 8

  The door swung open and the muscles I’d held so rigidly went lax.

  He was alone.

  Alone and not in work mode.

  He had two modes and I recognized this one almost as easily as I recognized the other one. He’d finished up a photo shoot not that long ago and he was decompressing. I tried not to think about how it was so easy for me to know something like that.

  “Is taking pictures like sex for you?” The question popped out of me before I even knew I was thinking it and I clamped a hand over my mouth in horror. Dammit! I couldn’t even be around him without thinking about sex. I closed my eyes. “Sorry. Shoot me now.”

  I heard a faint laugh. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

  The amusement in his voice made me open my eyes, but I couldn’t see anything on his face. He glanced past me before looking back at me again. “Why’re you here? If you need a last minute wedding photographer, you’re out of luck. That’s not my gig.”

  He delivered those words in a flat monotone as he slumped against the door jamb.

  I blinked. “No. I…uh…well, if you know somebody, that would be great, but we can’t have you taking pictures if you’re part of the wedding.”

  “Part of the wedding?” His brows shot up as he jerked ramrod straight, like somebody had swapped out an iron rod for his spine. “Says who? The one in October, I have about as much a say in it as you do, but this weekend? I don’t remember agreeing to that.”

  “Edward will want you there. He just hasn’t gotten around to asking.” I peered around him, not wanting to think about him. “Can I come in? I kinda…” Swallowing, I said softly, “I need help.”

  Thick, heavy lashes fell down to shield his eyes and for a moment, he didn’t move at all. Then he stepped aside and I entered, my arm brushing against his chest. Electricity jolted through me, but I managed not to let show any sign of it. I just walked deeper into the studio. “I…ah…” How did I say this?

  “How about you just spill it, Tennessee?”

  Tennessee. The nickname brought an unwilling smile to my lips and Flynn circled around just in time to see. Tension had lived and breathed between us from the first time we’d met, when he’d all but crashed into the room where I’d been trying to have an interview for a real job. It had just gotten stronger with time. Most of the tension had been uncomfortable, like sandpaper on the skin, but there had always been an undercurrent of something else.

  Just spill it.

  Yeah. Good suggestion. Get straight to business.

  “I need money.” His eyebrows shot up under his hairline as I gave him a rough estimate of what I needed and then I hurried to explain. “I’m flying my family up for the wedding this weekend. I need to pay for their tickets. I have to buy a dress. The one…”

  Shit. So much for cool confidence. Shoving my hands through my carefully tousled hair, I started to pace. “I’ve got a dress and it’s gorgeous, but I need to save it for the October wedding or your mother will try to force me into some monstrosity and that’s not all. I need money to pay for…”

  Running out of breath, I looked back at him.

  He’d closed his eyes, head lowered. Sensing my gaze, he opened his eyes and stared at me through eyelashes that should’ve been too thick for a guy.

  “Do you have any jobs?” I asked, the words coming out smaller than I’d intended.

  Jaw in a tight line, he averted his face. His voice was gruff. “You do realize that Edward would give carte blanche with his considerable bank account? All you have to do is ask.”

  “I know, but…” Feeling foolish, I wrapped my arms around myself as I forced the admission. “I can’t. I’ve…I pay my own way, Flynn. It’s how I was raised. Maybe once we’re married, it will be easier. I don’t know.”

  “Everyone already thinks you’re using his money.”

  He didn’t say it harshly, but I still almost flinched.

  “That’s another reason why I don’t want to do it,” I said quietly.

  “You don’t know how to let a man take care of you, Gabriella.” He jerked a shoulder in a shrug. “I’ve got work, but the kind of jobs I have that will pay what you’re asking? You won’t want to do them.”

  “It doesn’t matter what it is,” I said immediately, not liking the way he’d just assumed I wouldn’t do the job. The relief I felt made my knees weak and I sat down on the worn couch behind me. “I need the work. What are the jobs?”

  ***

  The only thing I had on was a mask. There was a dress, but I was just holding it. Why the hell would someone just hold a dress? It was supposed to be from the Regency period, but it looked a period or two too late. Flynn said the client had sent it specifically. Why would someone go to so much trouble to pay for portraits and not make sure they were entirely accurate?

  Apparently, these were the questions I asked myself to keep from thinking about the fact that I was currently standing naked in front of one man while I was engaged to his brother.

  “Lower the dress,” Flynn said. His voice was professional and calm, which should’ve been a relief, except that I thought he sort of sounded like my gynecologist. “Have it right at your thigh like you’re going to drop it. That’s it.”

  He walked me through everything and I followed his directions automatically, even as I mentally coached myself to relax. Easier said than done.

  I’d told myself I wouldn’t pose naked for him.

  But this was the only way to get the kind of money I needed quick enough. Or at least the only way that hadn’t involved going to
Edward. I still needed to find a dress and I had to pay for the gift I’d selected for him. I’d already called the gallery and they’d agreed to hold it until tomorrow, so what else could I have done?

  “Turn around. Keep the dress right where it is, let it trail around. Now drop it.”

  Sure, Edward would give me carte blanche with his checking account, but the last thing I wanted to do was ask for it. His mother was already convinced I was marrying him for his money and even though I knew otherwise, the accusation still stung. I didn’t want to do anything that would make him think there was any truth to Claire’s lies.

  Once we were married, it would be easier to feel like it was ours rather than his. Right?

  “Look over your shoulder at me. Act like you’re removing your mask.”

  I followed his instructions and tugged at the mask, glancing at him as I did so. His eyes were glittering, but the moment our gazes locked, his lashes swept down. When he raised his eyes a moment later, the heat had cooled and he was professional once again.

  But it was too late. I’d seen the look. My nipples tightened in response and I felt heat gathering between my legs.

  “Turn back to me.”

  Biting my lip, I did so, reluctant now that my nipples were pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat and my skin was flushing. Flynn’s face was hidden behind the camera now, but I saw his hands clench on the expensive piece of equipment and for a moment, there wasn’t a single picture taken.

  That heat between my thighs turned into a torrent of raging fire and I felt myself growing wet. Wet and ready...

  Shit.

  “I want you to look down,” he said, his gruff voice cutting through the fog in my head. “Take off the mask, but don’t look up. Let your hair hide your face and place the mask over your…breast.”

  The hesitation in his voice had me shooting a glance at him. I shouldn’t have. The raw hunger I’d heard had a shudder running through me. Agitation and need twisted through me and I wanted to scream. Grab my clothes and run out. Grab him and kiss him. Why didn’t I feel this sort of heat with Edward? Edward loved me. Edward wanted me and he treated me right. He didn’t hurt me.