by M. S. Parker
A blush stained her cheeks almost immediately as she understood that I’d looked at her body close enough to know something about her measurements.
“What are you wearing?” I repeated the question and told myself that I only wanted to know to determine what I’d be able to do. It had nothing to do with the way my stomach tightened at the thought of filmy lace barely covering...
“Nothing special,” she said, eyes sliding away from me. “Cotton. Green.”
My cock twitched. Shit. That shouldn’t have been so hot.
I took a slow breath and reminded myself that this was work. Nothing more.
I nodded and told myself I was ready. “All right. Let me see.”
8
Sine
I changed my mind, Mr. Wexler. I’m sorry. I acted a fool, taking that challenge seriously. I don’t think this is appropriate.
Every possible excuse raced through my mind, some so ridiculous that they were laughable, but plenty would have worked. I’d only known Alix for a week, but I knew he’d let it go if I asked. And a part of me desperately wanted to ask because this was certainly far out of my comfort zone.
But another, louder, part wanted to give it a try. It was this side of me that had always pushed me to do the crazy things. Climbing into the church rafters during Mass. Running into the pasture and scaring the sheep. Throwing a mud pie at Mr. Fitzpatrick when he was hitting his dog. Taking out goalie Liam O’Leary’s feet during a football match because he’d called Donald a foul name.
None of those had been good ideas, and I was fairly certain that this one ranked up there as one of the dumbest, but when Alix asked if I was chickening out, I knew I couldn’t back down.
I took a slow breath as I lowered my zipper. Every inch of my skin felt like it was on fire. I’d taken my clothes off in front of guys before, but those times had been rushed, and they’d been taking off their own too, not standing in front of me fully clothed, watching. I let the dress drop, then stepped out of it. Neither Alix nor I said anything as I picked it up and hung it on a nearby hook.
His gaze ran down my body and back up again as I tried not to fidget. My bra and panties matched, but they were exactly what I’d told him. Pale green cotton. Nothing special. Certainly not like the finery to which he was accustomed.
“We’ll start simple,” he said, looking away from me. He gestured toward the floor where he’d spread a blanket. “Lie down.”
Hoping he couldn’t hear my heart thudding against my ribcage, I slipped my shoes off and went over to the blanket. I sat down, then realized that I didn’t know how he wanted me to lay. A professional model certainly would’ve known what to do, but all I could do was sit there mutely and try to decide if I should lie on my back, my side, or my stomach.
“Sine.” His voice was surprisingly gentle. “Relax. I promise, this won’t hurt a bit.”
I looked up to see him smiling at me. My stomach did a little flip and I frowned. His expression immediately sobered, misunderstanding the reason for my change in expression. I didn’t intend to correct him, however. It was embarrassing enough that I’d had a flash of attraction. I didn’t want to explain it.
“You don’t have to do this.”
This was it. My out. He wouldn’t tease me about it, and I knew he wouldn’t hold it against me either. But I would. I’d know that I had backed off from this when I’d never backed away from anything.
“How do you want me?”
Heat flooded my face as I realized how my question sounded, but I refused to take it back.
Alix’s eyes darkened for a moment, then cleared. “On your back.”
“You’re the boss,” I said as I laid down, telling myself that I didn’t look as awkward as I felt.
“Arms above your head.”
I complied, letting out another breath. Maybe this wasn’t as awful as all that. He didn’t expect me to come up with ideas of my own. All I had to do was follow his directions. Normally, I’d balk at being told what to do, but I was so far out of my depth here that it actually eased my nerves rather than aggravating them.
“I’m going to restrain your wrists now.”
I kept my eyes on the ceiling, but couldn’t stop the shiver that ran over me as his fingertips brushed my skin. I felt something against my wrists, but not metal handcuffs as I’d anticipated. Cloth. Something soft and cool. Silk most likely. It took only a minute or two, and then he was walking back to where he’d set up his camera.
Music was playing in the background, so we weren’t in total silence, but I had to bite my bottom lip to keep from chattering just to ease the nerves that had reappeared the moment he went behind his camera.
“Relax.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Would you like to take my place and see how well you’re able to relax?”
He laughed, and it wasn’t sort of polite laugh one gave to acknowledge something intended to be amusing. He actually thought my comment was funny.
“Where’s your favorite place to go?”
“What do you mean?”
“If you could go anywhere for one day to relax, where would you go?”
“The sea,” I answered automatically. “Not the coast here, but back in Ireland. The smell of salt on the air. The crash of water against the rocks.”
I wasn’t even aware that my muscles were no longer tense until I heard the faint clicking of the camera. I kept going, describing the place I’d once considered my refuge. I didn’t stop until he came over to me again.
Instead of untying my wrists, he began to wrap my forearms, the new position putting some strain on my shoulders. Not enough that it was painful, but it was definitely new and not exactly comfortable…but oddly comforting.
“If any of this hurts you, just tell me.”
I nodded, more aware of his touch than his words. His fingers were strong, but not rough. The way he wrapped the silk around my arms from wrist to elbow was quick, but not sloppy. I couldn’t see it, but I could feel how each scarf rested against my skin.
“We’ll start with some pictures with you like this,” he said, his voice low as his fingers brushed through my hair. He twisted and adjusted my curls, everything about him clinical, professional. “And then we’ll move you around a bit, see what else strikes me. How does that sound?”
I nodded. I could do that.
I wasn’t an impulsive person. I thought things through, planned. It was why I’d graduated at the top of my class, how I’d done so well in college, why I was good at my job. It was also how I managed to convince my parents that I wouldn’t end up being a prostitute in the Big Apple because I was in over my head.
I told my college roommate that once, and she laughed like I was joking, but that really happened. Mam had been convinced that I wouldn’t be able to handle living on my own, especially not in New York City. Only my brother Donald had supported me from moment one. Being gay in a Catholic family came with its own set of difficulties. I’d stuck by him from moment one, and he’d done the same for me.
I wondered if he’d support me now.
Alix had stuck to his word about no nudity, and he’d been nothing but professional yesterday, but I doubted any of that would make my family comfortable with what I’d done. I was all about women being empowered to make their own choices about their bodies, so I didn’t believe I’d done anything wrong, but that didn’t mean I liked the idea of telling my parents – or my overprotective brothers – that I stripped down to my underthings, let a man tie my arms up, and then take pictures for the world to see.
And I for certain wouldn’t be telling them that a part of me had enjoyed it.
I was already regretting posing for him before I even gotten home last night, and the anxious thoughts had kept me tossing and turning. I’d only gotten through today because I’d kept busy. Cooking. Cleaning. Spending a couple hours on Skype, first with Mam and then with Donald. Now, all that was done, and even a long bath hadn’t been enough to stop my brain from going over all the
possible ways one poor decision could seriously fuck up my life.
How was I ever going to face Alix again? Sure, all the essential bits had been as covered as they would’ve been in a bikini – more than some – but it had felt different. Alix had been a complete gentleman, giving instructions, and only touching when necessary, but I’d still been so aware of him that by the time the session had ended, my hands had been shaking.
He’d excused himself to the darkroom to give me privacy to get dressed, and I’d appreciated it, but a part of me still wondered if he’d realized how strange it would be to see each other on Monday. Though, I supposed it was possible that he was accustomed to this sort of thing. Photograph a woman in something revealing, then talk to her like he hadn’t seen anything intimate.
But it hadn’t been intimate, I reminded myself. We’d shared nothing precious, done nothing shameful.
I sighed as I rummaged through the kitchen, trying to find something to distract me. The only alcohol in my apartment was whiskey from back home, but I didn’t think that would be a wise idea. I could hold my own better than one would think for someone my size, but I didn’t fancy dealing with a hangover if I let myself drink enough to forget. Ice cream would’ve been my preference, but I didn’t have any of that. Money had been tight since my former roommate moved back to Nashville three months ago, leaving me with the full cost of rent.
The money from yesterday’s photo shoot was more needed than I wanted to admit. I couldn’t go back and change things, so there wasn’t much point in going on about it, but I could be smarter in the future. I’d go in on Monday and tell Alix that while I appreciated the opportunity, I’d be taking payment for one session and going back to my original job as his assistant.
I found a container of frozen grapes and smiled. Marcia, my former roommate, had turned me on to those during a brown-out two summers ago. Not ice cream, but still a treat.
I popped one into my mouth, grabbed a bottle of water, and curled up in my favorite chair. I was ten minutes into my favorite episode of Britain’s most famous science fiction series when someone knocked at my door.
I frowned as I paused the show and pushed myself up out of my chair. At least three times a month, some delivery person came to my door instead of going up one more floor to the Del Rio place.
Except when I looked out, it wasn’t a delivery. It was Alix.
I flipped both the deadbolts and unchained the door, opening it before I remembered that I was wearing my most comfortable – and therefore my most worn – pajamas. The shorts weren’t those cute little ones that most girls wore, but rather a pair from my high school football – soccer in America – league, sporting our colors of purple and white. My shirt had been a hand-me-down from my oldest brother, Patrick, when he’d moved out. He wasn’t the biggest of my brothers but big enough that the shirt almost covered my shorts, and the neck often slid off my shoulder.
Alix didn’t comment on my outfit and I motioned for him to come inside. I closed the door, crossing my arms as I turned to face him. My pulse began to race even as my stomach tied itself in knots. His expression was serious, his eyes stormy, and I didn’t know what had happened to make him this way. Whatever it was, I knew he wasn’t here to borrow a cup of sugar.
“The pictures came out amazing,” he said, pacing to the lone window before turning to come back toward me. “They were exactly what I imagined. The color and lighting and...” His eyes met mine. “You were perfect.”
I supposed now was as good a time as any to tell him that I’d decided those would be the only photos he’d get to take. But even as I opened my mouth, he was talking again.
“We need to do more. I have a whole range of ideas for a series. And if you’re worried about people recognizing you, I can make it work without showing your face, or I’ll give you a mask.”
A series? Dammit. He wanted to display the pictures. I was an idiot for thinking otherwise. I hadn’t even considered what it would mean to have people looking at them. Stupid, I knew, but entirely on me.
“You have no idea how long I’d been looking for someone to make things come alive again.” He was suddenly directly in front of me, the faint scent of tea tree oil soap surrounding me. “So, what do say, Sine?”
I was having trouble breathing, much less thinking. I shouldn’t do it. I had dozens of reasons why it was a bad idea. For one thing, I wasn’t a model. “Now that you’ve found what you want to do, you should look for a real model to complete the series.” My nails dug into my forearms as I resisted the urge to touch him. Whatever energy between us at the studio was nothing compared to what I felt weaving between us now.
“A real model?” he echoed my words.
I sighed. “You have to know that no man will want to look at a series of photographs of me trying to be sexy.”
Something strange passed across his eyes, and then his hands were on my elbows, yanking me toward him even as he bent his head to take my mouth.
I could have stopped him, pushed him away, and I knew he would have respected it. But I didn’t. I let his lips come down hard on mine, heat and electricity racing across my nerves the moment we touched. I leaned into him, let his tongue part my lips, glide across mine.
He groaned, hands sliding up my arms, and then down my back, freeing me to wrap my arms around his neck. I forgot that he was my boss. Forgot that I didn’t look like the women he’d had in the past or the ones he’d have in the future.
His hands moved lower, cupping my ass as he lifted me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, digging my fingers into his hair. He bit my bottom lip, then soothed the sting with his tongue.
“Fuck, Sine,” he breathed as he rested his forehead against mine. “I want you.”
Bad idea.
Really bad idea.
“First door on the right.” My voice was breathless.
So...bad idea it was.
I kissed along his jaw as he carried me the short distance to my bedroom. It was tiny, barely large enough for my double bed, so it took only two steps once through the doorway for Alix to reach it. He set me down, fingers catching the bottom of my shirt. He paused before he pulled it off completely, the question written on his face. I nodded.
The shirt landed somewhere on the floor, and my shorts followed, leaving me completely naked...and suddenly self-conscious. I began to cover myself, then stopped at the sharp command.
“Stop.”
My eyes darted up to his, and the desire that had darkened them threw away any doubt I had about him wanting this.
He cupped my chin, ran his thumb along my bottom lip. “Do you trust me?”
I nodded.
“I want–” He hesitated, then ran his fingers through my hair, touched my cheek. There was something strange about it, almost uncertain.
“Tell me.”
“I want to tie you up.”
That should have been the sort of statement that made me tell him to leave, but it wasn’t shocking. Not really.
“Like you did yesterday.” It wasn’t a question.
He slid his hand down to move his thumb over my nipple. I shivered.
“Yes, like yesterday. Except this time, I’ll definitely be touching. And a whole lot more.” His voice was low. “But only if you want me.”
I held my hands out in front of me, forearms together. “I don’t have any ribbons, but use what you will.”
Judging by the look on his face, he hadn’t expected me to say that. “Have you done anything like this before?”
“You mean aside from yesterday?” I smiled at him. “No.”
If anything, his eyes darkened even more. “You’re not a–”
I shook my head. “No. But I am getting a wee bit chilly,” I teased.
He chuckled, and the sound heated me. “Lie back. Arms above your head.”
I did as he asked, stretching out on my bed as he went over to the robe hanging on the back of my door and pulled off the belt.
“Are you going to t
ake off your clothes?”
He paused, another of those strange expressions passing across his face. He tossed the belt next to me, then pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a firm, sculpted torso.
Fuck.
He was his own work of art.
I watched him as he came over and wrapped the robe’s belt around my forearms. The short-sleeved shirts he’d worn in the studio hadn’t done him justice. As he shifted, I saw a tattoo covering the top half of his back, a bird of some sort, the wings across his shoulder blades.
“Eagle?” I asked as he moved around to stand near my feet.
“Phoenix.” He ran his fingers up my calf. “You really have no idea how sexy you look like this, do you?”
My heart gave a funny thump. He’d been intense yesterday behind the camera, but this was something else. “I bet you say that to all the girls you tie up,” I teased.
He smiled. “Not at all.”
Before I could try to figure out what he meant by that, he was kicking his pants aside, and I was...distracted. The half-dozen darkened fumblings I’d had in college hadn’t left much time or light for me to see much, but I had no doubt that neither of my exes could measure up to Alix Wexler – combined.
“Shit,” Alix muttered.
It was only then that I realized he was holding something in his hands.
“Damn condom tore.” He tossed it into the trash. “I only had one.” He smiled at me. “Guess we’ll have to stick to another kind of fun.”
I shook my head. If we didn’t do this now, I doubted we ever would. And I wanted it. Wanted him. “I’m on the pill, and I haven’t been with anyone in a couple years.”
He studied me for a moment, and I could see him weighing the pros and cons. The moment I saw him surrender to his desire, my stomach twisted. “I get tested regularly. I’m clean.” He kneeled on the bed, hands resting on my ankles. “Are you sure?”
“Come on now, you’re not going to be leaving a lass all tied up with nowhere to go, are you?” I purposefully thickened my accent, grinning up at him.
