Over Exposed

by Stephanie Julian

  Then he reached for his camera.

  She froze. “Greg, what—”

  “No, no. Don’t freeze up on me, babe.” Click, click. “Just look at me.”

  Her cheeks burned and she clutched the sheet higher as he walked around the bed, camera still trained on her. “What are you doing?”

  “You look amazing and sexy.”

  The blush that had started in her cheeks became a full-body flush. No one had ever said that to her and she didn’t know how to respond. He made her want to give him anything he wanted.

  “But . . . I don’t . . . I’m not a model.”

  “Don’t want you to be.” Click, click, click. “Models sell a product. I’m capturing a mood.”

  She frowned as he continued to snap away.

  “And what are you going to do with these?”

  He lowered the camera, his gaze intent on hers. “No one else will ever see them. I promise you that. If you want me to, I’ll give you the SD card as soon as I’m done here. Just let me take them and show you what I see when I look at you. How sexy you are.”

  She remembered how she’d felt when he’d taken the pictures of her before. Sexy. Confident. Completely feminine.

  But that had been different. She’d been showing off Kate’s lingerie. Now his emphasis was totally on her.

  And it made her wonder what her hair looked like and had the little bit of mascara she’d put on this morning smudged.

  He lowered the camera just enough that he could see her over it. “Now your head’s not in the right place. What are you thinking about?”

  She pulled a face at him and the camera went back up. And she started to smile as she shook her head. “I’m thinking I probably look like a hot mess.”

  “Sweetheart, you are in no way a mess.”

  “Yeah, but this just seems so weird. If you’re going to take pictures of me, you have to talk to me while you do it.”

  “Okay. Sure. What do you want to know?”

  Hmm. “Have you always been into photography?”

  “Yep. Got the bug from my dad pretty young and I never really lost it, even when I realized film was what I wanted to do.”

  “I guess the two aren’t that different.”

  He shrugged, the camera still at his eye. “They’re just two different mediums. Photography is the capture of a moment in time. A photo can be a perfect distillation of a thought or emotion. Film—good film, anyway—draws you into its world and makes you part of it. It engages you.”

  As Greg continued to talk, she almost forgot that he was taking pictures of her. She became so enthralled with the peek he was giving her into his head.

  The man was brilliant but then she’d known that, at least subconsciously. He’d created a successful business and managed to hold it together when so many had gone down in flames. But the way he talked about film, about the art of it, it made her hot for him all over again.

  The camera began to click faster. Obviously Greg had noticed.

  Blinking, she looked away.

  And the camera stopped.

  “Hey, you okay? What happened?”

  Looking back, she saw Greg had dropped the camera to his side and stared at her through narrowed eyes.

  He hadn’t put his shirt back on yet and she had a hard time keeping her gaze from dropping to his chest. He had a couple of tattoos that she hadn’t noticed before, probably because her attention had been focused on . . . other things.

  “I’m fine. Just, uh . . . I really should get back to work.”

  She tried to make her voice sound normal, like she always stopped to have sex with hot guys in the middle of her workday.

  She smiled and turned toward the opposite side of the bed to pull her clothes back on. He continued to stand there, watching her dress, but she didn’t turn around until she was completely covered.

  Which was ridiculous because he’d spent the better part of an hour with her body pressed up against his and had just spent the last fifteen minutes taking pictures of her mostly naked.

  Reaching for her laptop, she forced herself to walk to him as if the last hour hadn’t happened.

  “I’m just going to head downstairs and work in the lounge. I’ll see what I can put together for lunch. Do you want me to bring you a tray?”

  His eyes had narrowed down to slits as she spoke and she knew he was picking apart her every word, trying to figure out any hidden meanings.

  While she was being very careful not to have any. No hidden meanings. No thoughts at all.

  Mentally, she was writing a list of all the things she needed to do today, including washing the sheets on this bed.

  Guess you can cross “Greg” off that list.

  Forcing another smile before her face turned a very betraying shade of red, she headed for the circular stairwell and the sanctuary of the empty building.

  Greg followed on her heels but she didn’t stop to look behind her until she’d passed the door to his room.

  Doubts about everything had started to crowd her mind, and she really didn’t want to have him see her freak out completely.

  “I’ll be downstairs. Just let me know when you want to eat lunch.”

  His narrowed eyes had become a full-blown scowl, his arms crossed over his chest. “Sabrina, are you sure—”

  “Greg, I’m fine. Really.” And since she couldn’t help herself, she added, “Yes, the sex was great. Yes, I’m sure I’ll want more. But I really do have to get some work done or Tyler will wonder what I’ve been up to, and I don’t think he’ll be thrilled with the fact that his employee had sex with a guest, so I’d rather not give him any more reason to fire me.”

  Greg started toward her but she held up her hand and he stopped, shaking his head. “No one is going to fire you.”

  “Good to hear because I really love my job. And I’m going to go do it now. It was fun. I hope we can have more. But later. Let me know about lunch.”

  This time, she turned, not waiting for him to say anything more, and walked down the stairs.

  Proud of herself for not running, she hit the first floor and headed for the kitchen instead of the lounge.

  She didn’t think she could settle down enough to make her brain work, but she knew she could work on instinct in the kitchen.

  And try to figure out how she was going to compartmentalize all the pieces of her life that had just been blown into so many different fragments.

  * *

  Greg got about two hours’ worth of decent work in before his conscience got the better of him and he figured he better go find Sabrina.

  He’d been an absolute ass to let her go downstairs by herself right after he’d fucked her. Hell, he couldn’t even pretty it up and say they’d made love because that’s not even close to what’d happened.

  He’d wanted her. He’d taken her.

  And then he’d gone back to work.

  Christ, you’re an asshole.

  No wonder she’d practically run down the stairs to get away from him.

  And did you follow?

  No, of course not. He’d already been in his room, furiously typing because the great sex and the amazing photos he’d taken of her had not only stimulated his body but his mind, as well.

  And if he was honest, he could admit to there being a little avoidance going on, too.

  He hadn’t gotten to the stairs when his phone rang.

  Pulling it out of his back pocket, he checked the number before answering. And nearly shut it off without picking up.

  “Fuck.” Taking a deep breath, he answered. “Tyler. What’s up?”

  “Just checking in. How’s it going?”

  “She’s fine. We’re fine.”

  Tyler paused. “Ooh-kay. Did I get you at a bad time?”

  Greg sighed as he leaned agai
nst the wall. “No. Sorry. Just finished writing and am going in search of food.”

  “And how’s the writing going?”

  “Pretty good, actually.” At least he didn’t have to lie about that.

  “And Sabrina?”

  “She’s fine. She’s working on whatever project you gave her to keep her busy.”

  Tyler paused again. “That’s not busy work. She’s gonna make a damn fine marketing manager in a few years. She’s got the ability to grasp big concepts and cut them into manageable pieces.”

  “I didn’t say she was stupid, Ty—”

  “True. But you just reduced the project I gave her to busy work. When have you known me to be stupid or too generous with my money? I’m paying her to do a job. I expect her to do the job.”

  And apparently that job was not supposed to include being a sex toy for his best friend. Christ, he was an idiot. Before he could say anything else, Tyler continued.

  “So how are you two getting along?”

  Greg was ready for the question, just not for the immediate instinct to lie to his friend. “Fine. She’s actually given me some good feedback on the script.”

  “You let her read it?”

  The shock in Tyler’s voice grated.

  “No.” But he’d been thinking about it. He wanted her opinion on it. Hell, he wanted her to like it. “We talked about a few scenes, though, and she had some good insight.”

  He didn’t add that they’d had that talk in bed. And unless Tyler was a long-distance mind reader, Greg figured he was safe from having to reveal that information.

  “I told you she was smart.”

  “And so she is. Is there anything else you want to know or are you just bored with your hotel at the moment?”

  Tyler laughed, knowing Greg was trying to get rid of him. “Actually, I got a call this morning from a very good friend of my father’s asking for a favor.”

  “Oh, yeah. What’d he want?”

  “For us to rent a suite to his son for a few months.”

  “So? You’ve done long-term rentals before. What’s the big deal with this one?”

  “His son has a few issues.”

  Greg snorted. “Don’t we all?”

  “Not like this. Have you heard of Sebastian Valenti? He’s the—”

  “Lead guitarist for Baseline Sins. Yeah, I know who he is. Had a pretty spectacular meltdown last year at a festival in England.”

  “That’s the one. He’s been through rehab and he’s been clean since, but his dad wants to rent him a suite so he can work on new music away from temptation.”

  “And how does working in a hotel get him away from temptation?”

  “I guess because his dad figures I won’t put up with a bunch of rowdy musicians, but I could be talked into letting one kid with a gift for the piano and a sob story stay for a few weeks.”

  “Ah. You’re becoming a soft touch, my friend. That icy exterior is starting to crumble. Kate’s good for you.”

  “Yes, she is. She’s also on the phone with Sabrina at the moment. Sure there’s nothing you want to confess before I hang up?”

  “Fuck you, Ty.”

  “Uh-huh. That’s what I thought.”

  Greg knew Tyler was goading him and was smart enough not to let his guilt get the better of him. “Gotta go. Work to do.”

  “Hey, I called the township. They should be able to get a plow up there sometime tomorrow.”

  And Sabrina would be able to leave. “Okay, sounds good. I’ll let Sabrina know.”

  “You do that. Filming still start in December?”

  “Yeah. The crew arrives right after Thanksgiving. They’ll stay at the farmhouse. I plan to stay at Haven most of the time and do the editing. Give me a little distance.”

  “Are Daisy and Neal staying at the farmhouse, too?”

  “Yeah, but in a separate cottage. Let’s just hope they show up.”

  Tyler paused. “Have they gone off the grid again?”

  “Not yet. At least not that I know.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “I’m trying not to read anything into it but Trudeau hasn’t been able to reach them to sign the contracts.”

  “You don’t think they’re—”

  “Like I said.” He cut Tyler off before he could voice Greg’s own doubts. “I’m not reading anything into it yet. They’ll show.”

  “Hopefully sober.”

  “They will be.” He couldn’t let himself think anything else. He needed this filming to go off without too many hitches. They only had a thirty-day shooting window. Tight but doable. He’d actually padded the shoot with a couple extra days. Just in case.

  They were shooting in the winter in Pennsylvania. The smarter move would’ve been to shoot in California but that wasn’t the look he wanted.

  “Hmm. Are you still planning to be back here Monday?”

  “Yeah. My flight leaves Tuesday at three a.m. Then I’ll be back the day before Thanksgiving.”

  “Okay. And Greg?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t break her heart.”

  Four

  “So?”

  “So what?”

  Kate huffed and Sabrina covered a sigh, knowing she wasn’t going to distract her friend by playing dumb. Kate knew her too well.

  “Fine. I’ll spell it out. How are you and Greg getting along?”

  “Fine.” He kisses like a god. “Everything’s fine.” The sex was freaking amazing. “We’re getting along just fine.”

  “Oh, no. What happened?”

  Shit. One too many fines. “Nothing happened.” Except great sex. “He’s been working a lot.” True. “And I’m working on the copy for the brochure.”

  Kate paused then apparently decided to let her off the hook for the time being. Or she was simply regrouping for another attempt at information. “And how’s that going?”

  “Pretty well, I think. At least I hope it is. I have some ideas I want to float by Tyler, but I’m having fun with the descriptions.”

  “I’m sure Tyler will love them. And he told me to tell you the plows should make their way up there by tomorrow morning, at the latest.”

  Was that supposed to be good news?

  “Okay. Great.” She tried to force enthusiasm into her voice but probably failed miserably. “Thanks. So hey, I’ve been doing a little work on the boutique. I had a few ideas about displays and stuff.”

  They talked for a few more minutes, Sabrina explaining her ideas for displaying Kate’s lingerie in the retreat’s small boutique, and Kate gushing over them.

  “You’ll definitely have to be there when I bring the rest of the stock up,” Kate said. “Opening day will be here soon.”

  “Are you getting nervous?”

  “Of course I am. What if people hate my lingerie?”

  “Oh please, no one could hate your lingerie,” Sabrina said, totally believing every word. “You’re gonna kill this.”

  Kate laughed. “You’re so good for my ego. Smooches. Uh-oh. Tyler just walked back into the room and I got the raised eyebrow. You know what that means.”

  Yes, she did. All Tyler had to do was raise an eyebrow and everyone in the vicinity stopped what they were doing and attended to him. He just had that air about him.

  Sabrina would’ve gladly admitted she’d had a slight crush on Tyler. Okay, maybe she still had a slight crush on him, but now it was only for his business skills. She so wanted to be half as good at what he did one day.

  After saying good-bye to Kate, and promising to call if anything “interesting” happened, Sabrina shut off all the lights in the small boutique in the front of the building and made her way back to the kitchen. She didn’t hear any movement upstairs so that probably meant Greg was still working.

&nb
sp; She’d kept herself busy all afternoon so she didn’t constantly think about him. About Greg naked. About him over her and inside her. Because every time she did, she wanted to do it again. And again.

  And that, my friends, is the start of an addiction.

  Her stomach growled and she realized it was almost six o’clock. They could both do with some food. Maybe he’d want to eat in his room and keep working. She certainly didn’t want to get in his way.

  “There you are. I was just coming to look for you.”

  Greg walked out of the kitchen just as she was ready to walk through the door, and she barely managed to catch back a sigh as her heart kicked up its beat and her lungs tightened. Her skin tingled in anticipation of his touch and her thighs clenched as her pussy went wet.

  Maybe those snowplows could get here just a little faster, because she was not going to be able to say no to him. Not about anything.

  Still, she was here to do a job. “Are you hungry? I was just about to start dinner. Is there anything in particular you’d like?”

  She saw his eyes narrow and realized he was going to flirt with her. And that could spell disaster. She needed to define some boundaries here, before he wiped them all out of existence.

  “I thought I’d make pasta, if that’s okay with you,” she continued, not wanting to give him an opening. “I think I saw meatballs in the freezer and I make a pretty decent marinara.”

  “Sure, sounds good.”

  As he leaned against the worktable, she pulled out a pot then headed for the pantry.

  “Did you get a lot of work done?” she asked when she emerged with the ingredients.

  “Yeah, actually, I did. I’m pretty sure I have you to thank for that. The sex was amazing.”

  She nearly tripped over her feet. Luckily, she was close enough to the table that she could put the cans of tomato sauce and jars of spices down before she dropped them. When she looked up at him, she knew her face had turned beet-red.

  “Jesus, Greg. Do you go out of your way to make me blush or is it a gift?”

  The gleam in his eyes should have warned her that he wasn’t finished. “I’m not in the habit of saying things I don’t mean.”

  Crossing his arms over his chest, he walked around the table to stand right next to her. Not close enough to be in her personal space, but that didn’t matter. No matter where he stood, if he was in the same room, he was too close. Or too far away.