The purpose of today’s session was to supplement her portfolio with full body shots to help her break into the commercial lingerie/swimsuit industries. Easy money for me. When I wasn’t traveling, private sessions with models were the bread and butter of my income. Taking baby shots or engagement portraits weren’t my thing.
As hot as Camilla was on the outside, her vindictiveness had been a major turn-off. I’d seen the way she’d backstabbed her colleagues on several occasions. But as much as I couldn’t stand her personality, she’d never know that. I prided myself on professionalism, never crossing any lines that could be misconstrued.
“Good job. Let’s get into that bikini now, and then we’ll be done.”
She slid off the bed and sauntered over to where I adjusted the lighting. With no shame, she ignored the modesty screen in the corner and unhooked her bra, letting it drop to the floor. “Do you think we should take any nudes?” she asked, and I had to suppress the eye roll that wanted to come naturally. Even before I could respond, off came the thong, leaving her as naked as the day she was born.
Desperation never seemed to be something they shied away from, especially if it helped get them what they wanted… me… which had never happened during my professional career. I used the term they to represent a small group of young, up-and-coming models who had no clue what it meant to have integrity.
It was a demanding class of beauties whose careers came easily, without a need to sell themselves. They were spoiled brats, a small, elite group of women who had been noticed as they sipped designer coffee at the park or sauntered through a fashion mall while giggling with friends. Camilla was probably the worst of them all. If given the choice, I always preferred to photograph the more mature set of models, in their late twenties to early thirties—models who knew how to be humble, appreciative, and, most of all, professional.
“That’s up to you, but to be honest, I don’t think you need them for next week’s appointment.”
I could see the wheels turning as she said, “You’re right. If something arises, I’ll schedule another shoot.” She moved even closer to stand directly in front of me. I still hadn’t looked at her as she continued to stand there naked, and no doubt it was pissing her off. Naked women affected me as much as they did a gynecologist. When you’ve seen as many breasts and waxed pussies as I have over the years, it was normal to become a bit desensitized toward them.
A visual of a fully dressed Cassie came to mind, and if she were standing right beside naked Camilla at that moment, strangely enough my body would have responded more toward Cassie. I knew that because there’d been a few times since meeting her when the thought of what she’d look like naked in my bed caused my cock to swell.
I wasn’t dead. Sure, over the years there’d been plenty of women who caught my attention with their hot little bodies and cunning smiles. But once I got to know them, the desire would dim. One woman managed to keep me wanting to come back for more, until the day she broke up with me.
“I’ll check my calendar when I get home,” Camilla went on to say when I still hadn’t acknowledged her pathetic attempt to rile me up.
“Sounds good,” I lied. “Would you like anything to drink before we finish up?”
“A chilled Pellegrino with a slice of lemon would be great, thank you.” God forbid they subjected themselves to tap water.
“Coming right up.” As I reached the door, I said over my shoulder, “Go ahead and get that bikini on. I have another client in a few hours, and I don’t want to rush these shots.”
Her silence meant she got the hint to move things along and stop trying to seduce me. The truth was, I didn’t have another client that afternoon, so the sooner Camilla’s session ended, the sooner I could get her out of my apartment.
Robotically, I edited the photos of Camilla on my laptop. That had been typical of the private sessions I conducted. These models were perfection, and except for a shadow or the occasional red-eye, not much touching-up was needed.
By three p.m., I became antsy. Something had been nagging at me over the past few days, or, to be more specific, someone. Since our date, I thought of Cassie more times than I should have. I tried to rationalize my atypical behavior, concluding she was the shiny new toy in a new city. But as quickly as that conclusion came to mind, I’d dismiss it. It was more than an infatuation toward a beautiful woman who intrigued me. But why it was more remained the question.
I wasn’t the type of man who needed to talk to someone when something bothered me. In my profession, between all the traveling and the people I met, it was hard to have good friends. There were a few buddies I remained in touch with from college and my early days as a photographer. Really, the only person I ever opened up to was Luca.
With Luca on a business trip / vacation this week, I was left to my own devices for solving my dilemma. That could be dangerous. I tended to be impulsive and impatient, which was what caused me to pick up my cell and text her.
Whatcha doin’?
I had no idea where she’d be in the middle of a Friday. I believed schools in the city didn’t start until next week. At least that was why Luca took Sabrina and her son, Mikey, with him to California. Did teachers have to report sooner? Not expecting a response, I resumed staring at photos of Camilla on my screen with a bored sigh.
Deciding to take a break, I popped open a beer in my kitchen and heard my phone ding with a new text. My feet may have carried me back to my desk a bit too quickly for my liking. Fucking feet.
I was just leaving my classroom. What are you doin’?
That impulse I couldn’t control had me typing back, thinking of you. My dignity had me erasing it. And then my fingers ignored my dignity by retyping those three damning words and hitting send.
The dancing dots appeared as I waited. When her reply came back, I chuckled at her humor.
Why is that? Did your driver hit another unsuspecting blonde’s car?
For the record, you did the hitting. I was going to get some fresh air. Want to meet me at the park in the East Village?
I asked, purposely choosing a busy park near where she lived.
It took a full five minutes for her to reply… and her response was a simple …
Sure.
Cassie
This time, the excuse I gave Thomas wasn’t a lie… well, maybe the meeting-a-friend part was. Could I consider Dante a friend? Since I didn’t look at my other male friends like I wanted to eat them for lunch, probably not.
After Dante’s text, I stopped home for a quick freshen-up. Keeping on the jeans I wore to school, a quick switch from a T-shirt and flip-flops to a frilly summer blouse and sandals helped emphasize my curves. I left my hair up in a ponytail and added a swipe of lipstick to help me look a bit more put together.
Fifteen minutes later, I made my way toward the park, where I spent a lot of time either reading under a shady tree or watching my students play extracurricular sports.
My heart pounded over meeting Dante. I hadn’t handled the kiss at my door very well and didn’t trust my traitorous body not to betray me. The way Dante blatantly studied me made it impossible to hide that I’d been affected by him. No matter how much I pretended to act cool, pebbling nipples, dilating eyes, a sheen of sweat, and failing to control my breathing all said otherwise.
A few times during the short walk, I’d needed to talk myself off the ledge. We were meeting in a public place, during daylight, among hordes of people. There was nothing to be nervous about, right?
Yeah, right, I thought as I spotted Dante, sitting on a bench at the park entrance. The sexiest scruff covered his jaw and framed his mouth. With his dark-brown hair flopping over to the side, he dragged his thumb over his bottom lip while his chocolate-brown eyes bore straight through me as I approached. The closer I got, the easier it was to see a pale-blue T-shirt molding over his body in the same way as the one he’d worn to Vanessa’s party.
Once he stood, I saw the professional camera he held in one ha
nd, and my stomach flipped. I hated being photographed. As if he heard my thought, he lifted the camera and began snapping over and over with each step I took.
“Stop,” I complained, one hand covering my face. “People are staring.”
“Let them stare,” he said with a chuckle from behind the camera.
“It’s not funny, Dante.” I went to swat him, but he jumped out of my reach. His smile was as radiant as the afternoon sun. Of course, I heard the shutter click one more time before he lowered his camera. Smart-ass.
Like a cobra striking its prey, he chastely kissed my cheek, catching me off guard. “I didn’t mean to annoy you right off the bat. I planned on giving myself at least ten minutes before that happened.”
“Ha ha, you’re a funny guy.”
Sporting a devious smirk, he glanced at the small screen on the back of the camera. “I have no idea why you don’t like being photographed. The lens loves you… look.” Dante flipped the camera around to show me, but I turned my head—mostly so he wouldn’t see me blush at his compliment. “Really? Wow, you’re not even going to look at it? I must admit, you didn’t strike me as the shy type.”
Cautiously turning back to face him, I quipped, “Being shy around people and being camera shy are two completely different things.”
Dante rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Maybe it’s because you can’t argue with the camera. All the evidence is in vivid color.” I let out a deep sigh, but before I could argue, he placed his hand on my arm. “Fine, no more pictures. How about a walk?”
“Sure.” Aside from the general park noise, sounds of the city, and my sandals smacking against the paved path, it felt too quiet. Should I start the conversation? He was the one who asked me here. My arms swung at my sides, while one of his held the camera and the other brushed against mine with every other step. Linking our fingers would be so easy, yet it didn’t happen.
Every so often, he’d lift his camera and take a picture. It wasn’t people he focused on, but instead ordinary things that I would never give a passing glance. The last one he took was of a pigeon pecking at a food wrapper someone left behind. Where he saw the beauty in that was beyond me.
A shrill whistle from a soccer game caught our attention. Dante veered off path and toward the small field, where orange cones created goals on each end and kids were scattered between them.
When a little boy bent down and picked up the ball before dropping it at his feet to kick it, Dante groaned. “They can’t do that.”
Déjà vu hit as I remembered the day Luca accompanied me to my students’ soccer game. “You sound like your brother.” I scanned the kids playing, wondering if any were current or past students of mine since they looked to be the right age. Granted, this was the park where my class generally played, so it wouldn’t have surprised me if they were.
Dante kept his eyes on the game and every so often he’d flinch or cringe. “Who taught these kids how to play? They need new coaches. It’s a disgrace.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Let’s go before you have an anxiety attack. I swear, if Mikey never hit Luca in the head with a ball the day we watched a game together, we would have been kicked out of the park because of his ranting.”
Dante looked at me. “You can’t get kicked out of a public park for wanting kids to know how to properly play the best sport on Earth.”
Yes, there was no doubt he was related to one of my best friends. Friends. As much as I loved the relationship I had with Luca, for some reason the same type of relationship with Dante didn’t give me the warm and fuzzies.
Memories of how Dante held me when we danced were still vivid in my head. That was definitely not the way one would dance with their friend. We walked again until we came to an empty bench. Dante placed his free hand on my back, sending that familiar zing through my body.
When we sat down, our thighs brushed and both of us turned to look at each other. He ran his thumb along his bottom lip, and all I wanted to do was suck it into my mouth. It was then I realized being just friends with Dante Benedetto wasn’t going to be enough for me.
“Thanks for meeting me today.”
“Thanks for asking.” It seemed as though he wanted to say something else, but when he didn’t I looked away to stare at the cloudless blue sky while inhaling deeply. “In a few short months, when winter arrives, we’ll be wishing for these days again.” The sun beating down on us wasn’t to blame for me feeling so overheated. It was the way he looked at me, sitting right beside me, like his one and only mission was to get into my space both mentally and physically. I couldn’t read this man. I had no idea what ran through his mind as he shamelessly continued to stare at me.
But when he said, “Hey, have dinner with me?” it was the last thing I expected.
Chapter 8
Dante
When the cab pulled up to my building, Cassie dipped her head and looked out the window. “You’re staying with Luca?” she said to the glass before twisting her gaze to me.
“Nope. I live here too.” Once I paid the fare, I leaned past her to open the door. Hearing her tiny gasp as my arm skimmed the side of her body had me fighting a grin. She was a bundle of nerves, and whatever ran through that pretty little head of hers caused her to pause with one foot out the door. “What’s the problem, beautiful?”
“We’re having dinner at your place?”
“That’s the plan.” A grumble from the front seat forced me to add, “You better scoot out or our cabbie is taking us for another spin.” Her pale-blue eyes glanced at the grumpy old man before coming back to my face. Feeling she needed reassurance, I leaned closer and placed my lips against her ear. “I don’t bite.”
“You goin’ or what?” Grumpy barked.
Resuming my position near her ear, I whispered, “But he may.” My comment garnered a small smile. But the way she puckered her lips and blew out a breath could only mean she was nervous to be alone with me. “Don’t you trust me, Cassie?” I asked as she followed me into the lobby.
“Of course I do.”
After a friendly wave at the doorman, I waited until we were at the elevator before asking, “Then why do you look like I’m about to bind and gag you?” I had to admit, just the thought sent a surge of blood down south. Seeing her widen her eyes and bite her lip, I had to refrain from moaning out loud.
“I don’t look like that,” she replied defensively.
“Yes, you do.” When I stepped into the elevator and she remained out of it, I folded my arms to prove my point. A forced smile spread over her lips as she stepped inside.
“I’m just… I’m not weird or anything… It’s just…” I began to enjoy her fumbling a bit too much. It made her equal parts awkward and sexy, again revealing the contradicting sides of who she was. I knew her well enough to know that silently staring at her drove her nuts. That observation was proven when she then rasped out, “You make me nervous.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” I said, punching my floor number. At my smirk, she suppressed her own smile and then rolled her eyes. “Why do I make you nervous?”
“I never know what you’re thinking, especially when you’re staring at me.”
The elevator jerked enough for her to tightly grip the bar behind her. Standing so close, I could smell her perfume. It was the same sassy scent she’d worn to dinner the other night—the same scent that stayed with me well after we parted. Mesmerized by the royal-blue specks surrounding her black pupils, before they faded into her pale irises, forced an urge to touch her. But the rose-colored natural tint of her lips fueled the need to kiss her.
“All you have to do is ask me. I have nothing to hide.”
“Okay.” She swallowed, and my eyes shifted to the tempting column of her throat. “What are you thinking now?”
“That I want to kiss you.” On my admission, those perfect lips parted while her eyes stayed focused on mine. “But doing so in an elevator doesn’t feel right. So I’ll wait.”
“You’r
e very presumptuous.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at her observation. “Am I?” The elevator’s ding announced our arrival. “Saved by the bell, Miss Brooks.” Stepping to the opened door, I waved her through with a smile. But just before we reached my apartment, I took her hand to stop her.
“It’s dinner, Cassie.” Her skittish behavior made me feel the need to say that out loud. I watched as her eyes searched my face before a sweet smile spread. “We’ll talk, get to know each other. Okay?”
“I’m sorry. You must think that I’m…” I stopped her with a finger against her lips.
“All I think…” I said, raising a brow to emphasize my point, “is that you’re someone I want to get to know.”
Her eyes rolled down to where my finger was and then raised again to meet mine. Smirking, I dropped my hand, allowing her to speak. “I think I’d like that too.”
The smile that appeared across my face couldn’t be stopped if I wanted to. There was something about this woman that awakened a part of me that had been dormant for quite a while.
The sound of the notches of my key sliding into my lock seemed amplified. It felt like we were on a precipice, and once we crossed the threshold things were going to change between us. When I moved aside to let Cassie in, she glanced at me before taking a step. It was then I realized she felt the same as I did.
Cassie set her small bag down and began to peruse the space. “Wow, this is beautiful.” Even though I had just moved in, pride swelled in my chest. Clean lines, contemporary masculine gray hues and décor, boasted my style—less is more. I watched as she walked deeper into my apartment. “Impressive that you’ve recently moved in. You’d never know it by looking around. I had boxes in my apartment for what felt like months.”
The Mr. Wrong Series Page 85
