by Laney Castro
“Who said anything about talking?”
Chapter Four
Aaron took a sharp breath as Madison stepped even closer. He dropped the towel when she let her arms fall to her sides, baring her chest to him. His eyes flickered down to her body approvingly, as if he couldn't keep himself from staring. She knew she was toned, one of the reasons why the catalog job was offered to her. Her breasts tingled under his scrutiny.
She noticed how stiff he had actually grown and she tried hard not to smile. “I see what you mean now.”
His gaze never left her face as she stepped closer, almost toe-to-toe with him. She trailed a finger from his sculpted abs downwards to graze him over his wet suit. He hissed.
Madison had to confess that the thought of a handsome athlete being attracted to her was thrilling. She slowly looked up at him and said in her softest sensual voice, “Do you think if I relieved you of this, it’ll make you less distracted?”
His eyes were now half-closed at the sensation of her fingers on him. But he was quick to grab her wrist. “I don’t usually do this.”
Neither did she, and she didn’t even know why she was doing this in the first place. She wasn’t one to proposition, but finding out he was getting this hard for her coaxed something out of her. And that edge in his voice sounded a challenge to her ears.
A challenge she was more than willing to accept.
She moved her nail upwards—slowly, lightly—brushing against him. She held his gaze with her own and watched his expression slowly change as she deliberately teased him with just one finger. She took her time tracing his contours that strained against the tight suit—from the tip, along the sides, then lingered at the base—and he drew shorter breaths. She felt him twitch just slightly, and she felt a surge of heat rise from her core. His gray eyes had glazed over, staring back. Curse those penetrating gray eyes.
She continued her teasing and raked her nails upwards, adding a touch of pressure along the way. She rested them on the top of his suit, and fingered the waistband. And when Aaron caught his breath, she slipped her hand into his jammers.
“Madi—“ he started, but his syllables faded as soon as her hand was around his hardness. He was warm and firm in her hand. She started to stroke him down while her other hand tried to tug the rest of his suit down. Aaron took a couple of steps backward, before hitting the low table. She followed as she held onto him, and realized how big and unyielding he actually was. For one brief moment, she entertained the thought of how good he could be inside of her.
He grasped her head and clutched at her hair to try and pull her closer—as if to kiss her—but she resisted and simply stared him down. "Slow and steady," Madison teased him, angling her face so their jaws grazed each other. He settled with leaning his forehead against hers, and his chest heaved with the shortness of his breath. His one hand still on her wrist, he showed her how he liked it—slow one moment, then urgent the next, with some twisting around his shaft.
Aaron’s handsome face was just inches away, and she liked how his breath warmed her up, and it matched the heat that was building inside of her. But he was tilting his head closer, reducing the gap, so she ducked and crouched down his front, and she was now level with his erection.
With the suit tugged down and around his thighs, he was pinned in place. He let go of her hand to grip the edge of the table tightly, and it gave her leverage to work on him. And Madison had to admit that it delighted her. Crouched low, she wrapped both hands around him and twisted them around in opposite directions. Up and down, left and right, a bit of squeezing, and a bit of pulling. She thumbed the pre-cum on the tip of his head, then snaked her other hand downwards to gently palm his pelvis. She bobbed her head forward, just close enough to breathe on his cock. She looked up at him and she knew he liked what he saw, especially when his jaw dropped in a muted groan.
Fuck this, she was getting aroused, too. Without losing her rhythm on his length, she straightened up and licked her lips. Then she withdrew her hand from his pelvis to reach for his, the one tangled in her hair. She pulled it down her neck.
It was all the signal Aaron needed. “I want you,” he said in a warning tone. His hand glided over her nape and shoulders, not stopping until it was over her breast. He took the chance to grope her, as she hoped he would, and she let him squeeze her breast and thumb her nipple.
Madison gasped. “That feels good,” she urged, resting her free hand on his wrist lightly. Aaron’s grasp was strong and warm. He covered most of her breast as he squeezed and fondled, and it was all she could do to let him take her completely then.
Their eyes met. With her hand on his cock and his hand was on her breast, Madison knew things were definitely heating up. She also knew she had to quit while she was ahead and in control. She quickened her pace, and applied more pressure, trying to emulate a sucking motion with just her hands. And finally, she provocatively licked her lips and parted them.
He came right then and there, and she leaned down again to let him spill himself over her breasts. He twitched, and she slowed down her ministrations as his member grew limp.
Madison quickly stood up and grabbed one of his water bottles. Aaron still had his eyes on her, and she saw him lick his lips. But he was leaning back and gripping the table’s edge, breathing heavily.
She opened the bottle and let the water dribble from the side of her lips and down her breasts when she drank, and his eyes grew wider. She grabbed one of the loose hand towels from the table to wipe her chest in front of him, still staring him down with what she hoped was a come-hither look. But it looked like he didn't have enough strength yet to grow stiff again, so her job here was done.
She threw the towel at him, whirled and bent down to pick up her robe, and put it on. "Now, can we work?" she asked him seriously, head half-turned to him, even if her heart was beating faster. And how she wanted more.
“Hell, no,” he growled, reaching for her.
Madison would have let him take her then, if it weren’t for the knock on his door. “Aaron, are you ready?” a male voice asked.
She saw his fingers clench and unclench, as if he was restraining himself from touching her. “Five minutes, Mike,” he said in a strangled voice, looking straight at her.
“Photographer says you only have two,” the other guy replied. “Hurry, please.”
They waited for the footsteps to fade. Madison smiled at him, even if a bit smugly. There was a sense of empowerment over having control of the situation—of him. “I guess I’ll see you later, then,” she said teasingly before walking off, adding a bit of swing to her hips when she closed the door behind her.
Chapter Five
What in the world did she just do?
That was the last time she was going to let her instincts take over. What ever happened to better judgment? To professionalism? What would her family think? They would have collective heart attacks if they found out, even her easygoing older sister. She sneaked a peek at him because she couldn’t quite look at him straight in the eyes.
Goodbye, Merman Hyde.
Hello, Hotshot.
This time when the shoot began and Madison stepped into Aaron's arms, everything seemed much more relaxed. The corners of Aaron's mouth would curl up as if he couldn't keep from smiling, and the gesture, coupled with his strong determination to project a more serious face, resulted in a really handsome smirk. His hand rested possessively around her waist and when Madison was asked to put his arms around him, she couldn't help but notice how perfectly they fit.
She couldn't help notice that when she had taken him in her hands earlier, too.
Madison was torn between wanting to grin right back and wanting to roll her eyes whenever their gazes locked. She wanted to drag him back into his dressing room and tell him to get it together, before kissing him senseless. But it didn't seem as if anyone around them was complaining. If anything, the photographer was calling out praises. She kept hearing how they had great chemistry all along. Thei
r poses had gotten sexier fast. And it wasn't even supposed to be an intimate shoot! The peg was just sexy sportswear, which was why Madison couldn't understand why every pose, every shot, every outfit change was getting her all hot and bothered.
Scratch that. She could very well understand.
Their last pose for the day had him in swimming tights, with her in a racerback suit standing behind him. They were supposed to be just looking at each other, with minute variations on where their hands should be or how much profile they should show. "Are you joining the shoot tomorrow? The one at the pool?" Aaron asked while the photographer was finishing the set-up.
"Yes, but Anna and Lakeisha will be doing all the underwater shots," she replied. "I'm not that very good at swimming."
He looked surprised. "I could teach you."
"Look, Harding, what happened earlier…" She tried not to blush. "Don't get any ideas, okay?"
Aaron's brow crinkled then understanding slowly dawned on his face. "What do you— Oh. I get it. You're saying you only did it to keep the job."
"Yes… no… that's not what I meant!" Madison protested. "I meant we don't have to take things from professional to personal, if you don't want to."
His reply was to clench his jaw and look beyond her. Madison sighed. "You're doing it again. You're stiffening up."
"Don't tell me what to do. You're not my girlfriend."
She looked up at him in alarm. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
He snorted at her, with that sexy smirk he had recently acquired on his lips. "We don't have to take things from professional to personal, Miss Thomas," he sniped her words back at her.
Madison wanted to retort but the photographer was already calling for the shoot to start. "Aaron, we want you to be looking down at her—"
And so it began again. Madison's breath grew tighter. Damn this man. He was making her want to lose control but there was still a job to do. Last pose, she kept reminding herself. Last shoot. You won't have to see him or look at his face or have to explain yourself... until tomorrow.
Yeah, tomorrow where she'd have to see him and look at his face while he was in a pool with another model.
"Do you have a girlfriend?" Madison asked again, when the photographer called for a few minutes to show the client the last frames. They still had to stand at their marks but at least they could relax a bit. Madison tried not to look at his lean body but she had to reason out that if she looked anywhere else, she'd lose her mark. "And I'm asking purely out of professional interest."
"No," Aaron said abruptly. "But you better define what sort of professional interest involves asking after my relationships."
Madison was very interested in a spot on his smooth chest. "Just wondering if someone will get jealous when these photos come out."
He gave her a lazy grin. "No," he assured her. "Do you have a boyfriend?" He muttered something underneath his breath, something that sounded like, "Lucky bastard."
Madison remembered the dressing room and how she went down on him. Of course he'd be interested to know if she had someone else to practice on. She felt herself blushing. "No. I don't have a boyfriend," she added.
Not technically, anyway.
"Okay, kids, I think we have it. That's a wrap," the photographer declared. "Thank you for the hard work. You guys knocked it out of the park. If it were anyone but you two, I think we'd have been here longer."
Madison thought it was nice for the photographer to say so, even after their disastrous start. She hoped she had impressed the clients enough. She thanked him and turned to leave, but Aaron was quick to grab her wrist. "What are you doing tonight?" he demanded.
Madison's jaw dropped. "Are you asking me for—?"
"Dinner," he answered, his gray eyes leveled at her. "Dinner and dessert afterwards. I want to thank you."
"Done. No need. Y-You're welcome," Madison stammered.
"I want to get to know you," he forged on, and for the first time since that afternoon, she glanced the boy-next-door persona that everyone seemed to go nuts over. "You. Not the model. No strings attached, no sexpectations, no—"
"You said sex!"
"I did not!"
"You're already thinking it!"
Aaron scowled. "I'm trying not to, but you're making it damn impossible!"
Madison crossed her arms over her chest. "Okay, let me lay down the rules. No strings attached. No expectations. Just two people having dinner and talking. Okay?"
Aaron nodded. "That's what I want to say." He spread his hands in front of him. "I'm not a bad guy, Miss Thomas. I'm not used to all of this. I'm just a swimmer. And I just so happen to like you."
Those gray eyes of him looked so intense that Madison could feel herself melting. "All right," she agreed softly. "Dinner tonight."
This time, his smile broke out unhindered. "Great. I'll just go get changed," he said, nearly tripping over his own feet in haste. Hell, why was he so handsome? And damn adorable? Madison closed her eyes and sighed. She had so many things to think about. Getting involved with Aaron Harding was going to be trouble.
Then she remembered the way he looked at her, like she was the most beautiful girl in the world, how his body tightened from just a touch, how they seemed to want so much more after that.
And she knew it was going to be worth every minute.
She checked her phone. There was a notification for a Facebook tag from her sister, a few likes for an Instagram photo she posted last night. And then there was a missed call from Sean, but no message. She ignored it and stuffed the phone deep into her bag. If it were important, he would call again, but she knew why he was calling and tried to put it out of her mind. Sean was a complication she didn’t need right now. Instead she said goodbye to Elliott, who seemed surprised when she told him with whom she was riding.
Aaron's car was a modest one—neat and comfortable, but bigger and roomier than her Toyota. He walked over to open her door and Madison murmured some shy thanks. As he tossed his bag into the backseat and walked over to the driver's side, Madison took a deep breath and wondered for the nth time if this was a good idea.
She was in a car with Aaron Harding—a guy she had just met and jacked off, all in the same day. Wrong. This was all wrong.
She stretched her legs and hit something on the floor. Bending over, she picked up a half-open make-up kit. Either he had been lying about that girlfriend or he had tendencies that ran counterpart to what she had expected. Or, she realized, maybe he didn't have an exclusive girlfriend but dated around. He was an athlete, after all. An Olympian, for crying out loud. He had girls throwing themselves at him all day. Didn't she just?
Aaron opened his car door and got in and Madison handed him the make-up kit. "One of your dates must be missing this."
He looked puzzled as he took it, then recognition dawned. "Oh, it's my sister's." He closed the pouch, and placed it in the back to rest on his bag. To do it, he had to lean backwards and stretch an arm, and Madison couldn’t help but admire the way his shirt emphasized his muscles. Then he buckled himself in, interrupting her fantasy, and started the car. "Any preferences? Any allergies?" he asked her.
"I'm not a fan of French food, but anything else is fair game," she confessed as they drove out of the studio garage. Not that she ate much. She bent her head down a bit because she didn't want any of the crew and other models to notice that she was leaving with the star. She didn't want to be a frigging cliché.
"Look, I realize we may have gotten off on the wrong foot," Aaron began. "I'm sorry. I really didn't know how to fix earlier…"
"Don't worry about it," Madison murmured.
"…And I know I may have seemed so rude to you but it was really just poor judgment on my part..."
"Really, don't mention it," Madison insisted, hoping he'd stop bringing it back and making her remember how she had his hand around him. Sheesh, she was thinking about it again now, how large and insistent he was, how he filled her up, how she grew all tingly after that.
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br /> "…When all I really wanted to do was get you to like me," he forged on.
"I like you already!" she cried out. Aaron looked at her in surprise and then she blushed. "I mean, I-I think—I think you're a decent guy," Madison stuttered.
"So earlier was… earlier wasn't just to keep your job?" Aaron pressed.
Madison rolled her eyes. "This should be in the ground rules. No more mention of earlier." She could feel her own neck and face heating up.
"Aye, aye, captain," Aaron said, but not before she caught the smile on his face.
He turned on the car stereo and she looked at him in surprise. "Is that Japanese? I wouldn't have pegged you to be a J-Rock fan."
"Can’t live in California without having heard at least one Asian band in your life," he said. "Some of them just stick more than others. But you recognized it. You listen to them?"
She shook her head. "Just some of the words. I live and work in Little Tokyo. Sooner or later, you tend to pick up one or two phrases beyond sashimi and arigato."
There was a grin on Aaron’s face. “Impress me.”
“Aho! Baka! Damare!” she recited. “Don’t ask me what they mean; I just know my next-door neighbor loves to say it when she gets into an argument with her husband. Louder person wins. Are you properly impressed now?”
“I’ve been impressed for quite some time now,” he replied, and Madison unexpectedly blushed again.
They were quiet for a while as he drove down the I-5. “You mentioned work. Isn’t modeling your job?” he wanted to know. He gave a small laugh. “Sorry. I must be the only person in SoCal who doesn’t know someone who’s trying to break into the industry.”
“Don’t worry. Modeling gigs like the Stroke campaign don’t come every day,” she replied. “But when the agency doesn’t call, well… thank God there’s Common Grounds.”
“So you work as a barista and book modeling gigs through an agency?”
“They represent me, and I’ve a different one to help me get some acting jobs as well,” Madison revealed. She hesitated. She didn't want him to think that she was showing off.
