Unshuttered

by Philippa Grey-Gerou

  “Josie,” he called out and waited. No response. “Josie!” Nothing. “Josie?”

  “I’m right here, no need to shout,” she said from behind him.

  Sighing, he turned. “So what’s the story with the…uh…”

  “Yes?”

  It was hard to think rationally with all the blood rushing straight between his legs. She had changed. God, how she’d changed. Instead of the business casual slacks and sweater she wore around the office, she was now dressed in what he could best describe as Victorian dominatrix wear. The tight ivory corset was picked out in narrow lace and tight enough to lift her breasts near to bursting. She wore panties, but they didn’t look substantial enough to do anything more than shield her modesty. The lace stockings were just a shade darker than her pale skin, held in place by garters that tempted him to see how much snap they had. She wore matching fingerless gloves, and her hair was piled up on her head in loose waves while her face was more carefully made up than he’d ever seen on her, eyes carefully outlined, lips full and dark as wine. Even the leather whip she held was white, promising to show every mark she made with it.

  “Uh…”

  Her lips curled invitingly.

  She was his three o’clock. Jesus… “You’re late?”

  “Is that a question?”

  “Um…maybe?”

  Josie circled around him to stand in front of the camera. “The garters gave me a bit of trouble. Who knew they would be so difficult to get on straight?”

  She was trying to kill him, right? That was the only possible explanation.

  Her confidence wavered with his silence. “This is too much, isn’t it?”

  God, no. “No. No, it’s…I…wonderful. But talking’s, uh, a little difficult at the moment.”

  “I thought…” Now she was the one having a hard time speaking. “You got to show me how you see me, so I thought maybe I would show you how I see myself. Sometimes. God, this was really stupid, wasn’t it?”

  “Josie.”

  “What?”

  He lifted the camera and shot her. “Shut up and pose.”

  Visibly, she relaxed. “Seeing as I’m the one with the whip, I think I’m the one who should give the orders.” She waved it back and forth, then wound it around herself.

  “Sorry, camera trumps whip. And you’re currently a client. Which means you do what I say.” He looked away from the viewfinder for a minute to grin at her. “It’ll be a nice change of pace, don’t you think?”

  “See, that’s what I mean.” She swung the whip so that it tangled around her ankles, trapping her. “Everyone sees me as such a ball buster, and maybe I am. But that’s not what I feel like.”

  “No?” The distance the camera created actually allowed an intimacy they might not have had if they’d jumped right into bed. Or even over a quiet cup of coffee. He’d seen it before, how the photographer could end up as confessor. Josie had seen it, too. This was deliberate, and he was determined to make the most out of it. “So who are you, Josie Guinness?”

  “Just a girl trying to make it in this world.” She snorted. “That sounded horribly cheesy, didn’t it?”

  “Cheesy, yes. Horribly…I’ve heard worse.” Click, click. “What kind of movies do you like?”

  She seemed as grateful for the mundane conversation as he was, relaxing visibly as she swung the leather whip negligently back and forth. “When I’m feeling sappy or looking for comfort, classic black and whites. Though sometimes, I just like to see shit get blown up.”

  Ian chuckled. “Ah, so you’re one of the millions who keeps Bay and Bruckheimer in business.”

  “And you’re not?” She craned her neck to follow his movements around her.

  “Nope. Hate modern movies.”

  “Let me guess, Citizen Kane, The Maltese Falcon…dark and serious?”

  Dropping to the floor, Ian started snapping pictures up at her. “You’ve worked with me for six months and you think I’m into dark and serious?”

  Settling her hands on her hips, she frowned. “Well, when people dismiss modern movies, that tends to be how they roll. Or foreign films. You’re not one of those, are you?”

  “Again, do you even know me?”

  “So, what then?”

  “Comedies. Slapstick, mainly. If it has sharp, witty banter, I’m all over it.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I’ve always had a crush on Rosalind Russell.” He winked at her. “Must be why I like you so much.”

  “You don’t have to make fun of me.” She cracked the whip with a sharp snap of irritation that went straight to his cock.

  “If I were making fun of you, it would be well out of range of that thing. Why white?”

  He was keeping her off balance with his rapid-fire questions, which wasn’t easy to do, but in this setting it emphasized her vulnerability. “What?”

  “Why did you pick white?”

  “It’s not white. It’s ivory. White’s too virginal, and I’m…not.”

  “Why not black leather? It’s more traditional.”

  She was getting irritated again. “Because this is how I see me, remember?”

  “Strong and intimidating, but a bit old fashioned?”

  “Maybe.”

  “It wouldn’t take much to change that, though.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Here.” He dragged one of the posing blocks over, still draped in white from prima donna Brian’s shoot. “Sit down.” She grabbed for her whip when he took it from her, but he pooled it in a pile near her feet and crouched down to slip off the three inch granny boots she wore, dropping them carelessly next to the whip. “There. Now look at them.”

  Puzzled, she did as he asked, one loose strand of hair crossing her cheek. “Perfect. Don’t move.” He circled her, taking shots from all angles with both the color and black and white cameras. “Pull your knees up.” Again she obeyed, only her brilliant emerald eyes showing above the curve of her knees. “These are gorgeous, Josie. You’re gorgeous.”

  “You’re saying that again.”

  “You’re not believing me again.”

  She pulled her chin up and stuck her tongue out at him.

  He snapped the picture.

  Josie laughed suddenly.

  “What?”

  “Remember school pictures?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  Clasping her hands over her left knee, she propped her chin on top and dropped her right leg. “Sounds like someone has a story.”

  “The usual, gap teeth through elementary school, braces through middle and most of high school. Why were you laughing?”

  “In second grade I thought it would be funny to stick my tongue out when they took the picture. I did, and it was, until my parents saw them.”

  “Bet that didn’t go over well.”

  “Lost my TV privileges for a month.”

  “Ouch.”

  Her eyes focused off in the distance, lending her a wistful look. “And I had to write an apology on the back of each copy. In cursive.”

  The combination of childlike innocence and womanly sensuality made for a powerful image, but Ian didn’t capture it. This was something private, a moment between the two of them, and he wanted to keep it that way. “Had enough?” he asked, surprised at how thick his voice sounded. “Or was there something else you wanted to try?”

  “That depends.” Her own voice dropped several registers, innocence whisked away into sultry allurement.

  He couldn’t help responding. “On what?”

  She rose to her feet, swaying across the floor towards him on tiptoes in those temptation stockings. “Maybe on how you’d like to see me.”

  “I can honestly say this has surpassed all my wildest fantasies.”

  “Oh, come on, Ian.” She stopped in front of him, too close to focus without a lens change. “You’ve got a pretty good imagination. This is the wildest you could come up with?”

  “Josie, until last night, I d
idn’t even let it go this far.”

  “Why not? Wasn’t I pretty enough?” Her temper was starting to rise.

  “Because until last night, I didn’t let myself think of you as anything more than a friend. A colleague I admire and respect. Anything more would have crossed a line I didn’t think you wanted crossed.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I think I never want to photograph anyone else.”

  She blew one of the strands of hair out of her face. “Please. We both know that’s not true. The next Mikaela that walks through the door—”

  The words died off in an incoherent mumble as he hauled her close, claiming those sultry lips for his own. Holding Josie with one hand and his camera with the other, Ian could finally see the whole picture. This was what he’d needed, what he’d had all along and never realized.

  Her hands rested on his shoulders, not fighting him off, before slipping around to hold him tighter, her mouth open and eager, the boning of her corset digging into him to remind him of its presence. Finally he pulled back to look down into eyes gone the color of a midnight forest, her passion obvious in ways much subtler than his. “I think we’d better take this somewhere else.”

  “Why?” She pulled him down for another kiss.

  “Because,” he broke off again, “I can’t really decide which I want more right now, to shoot you or make love to you. If we keep on like this, I might just end up doing both.”

  She shivered. “Sounds…interesting.”

  “Jesus…” he groaned. “You’re supposed to be my voice of reason.”

  One of her hands ghosted down his back, teasing beneath his waistband. “Only when I’m your assistant.”

  “What are you right now?”

  “The best damned thing that’s happened to you.” Her kiss was fierce and made up his mind. Ian carefully lowered his camera to the floor by its strap.

  “You were that before.” He backed her up step by step, savoring the way their bodies collided with each advance. Stopping before she tripped over the posing block, he forced her down onto it, letting one hand map the curve of her waist enforced by the corset. “I hate to admit this on our first time, but I think you’ve found my kink.”

  “Mm?” She curled one leg around his hip, drawing him closer with amazing flexibility.

  “I take pictures of women in their underwear all day, but this…” He snapped one garter, making her hiss. “I have never seen anything as sexy as this.”

  “Would it kill you if I told you I’d been wearing it all day?” she teased.

  It was his turn to groan. “Yes, probably.”

  She laughed and pulled him down. “Well, then, you’re lucky, because I didn’t. Although if you play your cards right, I might another day.”

  That would be a very good day, as well as the most agonizing of his life. “Christmas maybe?”

  “Oh, that could be useful. Finally, something to keep you in line.”

  Ian dropped to his knees in front of her. “You’ve managed quite well up until now.”

  “Imagine what I can do now…”

  He pressed a kiss into the cleavage he’d been admiring so long. “I’d rather you show me.”

  Licking her lips, her eyes bright, she ran her fingers roughly through his hair. “You show me, Ian. You’re the one on your knees.”

  “I am, aren’t I?” He grazed his right hand up the silk stocking until he encountered the garter at the top. Stretching the elastic, he worked his finger underneath to caress her warm, pale skin. “You are gorgeous, Josie.”

  “Ian, please don’t keep saying that.”

  “You are, though.” He stroked the small section of her thigh exposed above her stockings. “There’s no other word for it. Pretty is shallow and beautiful too overused. Gorgeous still means something and, God, Josie, are you ever…”

  “Ian—”

  He silenced her by pressing his lips to the delicate skin his fingers caressed. Gasping, she arched into the touch. He followed the lace top of her stocking around to softer, more intimate ground. Her legs drifted open in response.

  “Not so old fashioned, then.”

  “I did say I wasn’t virginal.”

  “I’m not sure whether to be jealous or grateful for that.” He twisted to taste the matching spot on her other thigh, his fingers, so practiced at handling film canisters and developing tanks in the dark, freeing the garters on her stockings. “Have you reconsidered your rule about personal…affairs during work hours?”

  She curled one leg around his shoulder, watching him avidly. “No.”

  “Then what’s this?”

  “I closed the studio at three.”

  “You did? Without asking me?”

  “You don’t seem to mind.”

  He shook his head. “I never seem to know who’s in charge here anymore.”

  She stroked his hair. “Well, then, let me make that easier for you. I am.”

  He grinned. “Okay.”

  “Say ‘Thank you, Mistress’.”

  He knew the rewards if he played along. “Thank you, Mistress.”

  “Good boy. Now get undressed.”

  Placing a lingering kiss to her inner right thigh, Ian rose to his feet and took a couple steps back.

  “Slowly,” she said when he started to unbutton his shirt.

  As if he would do it any other way. Though, to be honest, he was more than a little nervous. Ian knew he wasn’t a bad looking guy, even if he was a bit on the skinny side. But the first time undressing for a lover always left him feeling uncertain, especially when he had her undivided attention.

  “This is nerve-wracking,” he admitted.

  Josie’s lips curved into a sensuous smile. “All’s fair.”

  “You hardly seemed to have a minute’s doubt.” Trying to emulate her earlier assuredness, he let his shirt hang open while he undid his cuffs.

  “I’m a good actress.” Her eyes were never stationary, taking in every movement, every inch of skin he exposed. “I was mortified.”

  “You were gorgeous.” Holding his breath as though diving into cold water, he shrugged out of the shirt and tossed it aside.

  “You say that a lot. For an artist, you have an awfully limited vocabulary.”

  “My vocabulary is in my pictures. Everything I have to say is right there.” He kicked off his shoes, his hands going to the button on his pants.

  Suddenly her gaze was razor sharp and fixed. “Worth a thousand words, huh?”

  “Exactly.” He took his time with the fly, enjoying how her breathing sped up as she watched. “I could take a thousand more of you and never get tired.”

  She licked her lips. “Okay, that’s pretty good.”

  “The words? Or the view?” He shoved his pants down, knowing she would be denied what she really wanted by his briefs. On the other hand, the briefs fit close enough that she would have no doubt about what he was bringing to the relationship.

  “Yes,” she said, getting to her feet and closing the distance between him. She caught his hands as he started to lower his briefs. “Let me.” Stepping behind him, she drew the underwear down his legs. “I never saw you as a briefs man.”

  “Surprise.” He looked over his shoulder to watch her come back up, a delighted smile on her face as she coasted her hands up his legs. “You know, the view is on this side.”

  “Oh, I like the view over here just fine.” To emphasize that, she placed a quick, scarlet kiss on his ass before continuing up, her satin-covered breasts caressing his back, her strong arms wrapping around his chest. “You men, you’re always so worried about what’s up front.”

  She was keeping him off balance, and it was working. “I’m kind of hoping you’ll like what’s up front.”

  “Oh, I will.” One hand skated over his belly to wrap loosely around his cock, making him hiss. “But, really, I’ve always been a lot more interested in your tongue.”

  “My tongue?” He couldn’t think for her grip coaxing neg
ligently around his shaft.

  “Definitely your tongue. It’s very…expressive.”

  “I thought we’d already settled that I’m no good with words.”

  “It’s not your words that make it interesting.”

  He did have a tendency use his tongue more often than was probably normal. “Erm, I thought you hated it.”

  She traced a fine, wet line along his shoulder with her tongue. “No, I hate what you do to our pens. Otherwise, I really enjoy watching what you do with your mouth. Too much.” Now her lips were toying with his earlobe, adding to the sensations swamping him under. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve caught myself staring when you were thinking and biting your tongue, wondering how good that would feel…other places.”

  “I could show you, if you like.” For casual play, it was getting pretty heady, all the more so with her intimate touches and the feel of her curves against him.

  “Oh,” she breathed across his ear, “I’d like that very much.”

  He turned in her arms, wincing at the loss of her hand on his cock, a sacrifice that was more than made up for by the chance to hold her. Leaning down, he licked the bare line along her shoulder and up her neck, relishing her delicious shiver. “Go sit down,” he ordered. “I’m going to get another block to make you comfortable.”

  Swaggering over, she dropped down, giving him an impish look. “You know, I’m never going to be able to handle these blocks with a straight face again.”

  He grinned in return. “All the more reason to keep them around. I like seeing you smile.”

  “You’re smile’s not so bad, either, Mr. Serious.”

  When he turned back with the bi-level posing block, she was holding out the tiny little panties on one finger.

  She was definitely a natural redhead.

  “Okay, that’s not going to make me smile.” He set the block down carefully and nudged it into place, unable to look away from the line of her legs.

  “No, but it will make you very, very happy.” She leaned back against the raised side of the block he’d brought, letting one leg drape over the side while she bent the other one up. “Now, about that tongue of yours.”

  He reached for his camera instead.

  “Ian!” In an instant she pulled her legs together.

  “No one else is going to see them, Josie. This is just for you and me. Now put your legs back, temptress.”