by Lana Hartley
Chapter 2
Lacey
The crowd’s applause pours over my skin, raising goosebumps of anticipation. It’s loud as we stand just behind the drapes at the side of the stage, with just the curtains separating us from them.
“Quiet now, ladies!” Tracey’s voice is a hissed whisper as she trolls down the line, making adjustments. We’ve been given our places and have lined up for more than ten minutes now. Unfazed, she’s still swapping girls periodically as she gives out last-minute instructions.
“Nervous?” Serina’s haughty voice in my ear brings me back to the present. She’s artfully arranging her hair around her shoulders.
“Yes.” My honest answer seems to take her by surprise, and she pauses to look up at me.
The MC’s voice booms out to the spectators, introducing the show. She waits for it to die down before leaning towards my ear to be heard better.
“Well, you look great, so I’m sure you’ll do great.”
Her whispered encouragement was not what I expected.
Wow! Maybe I judged her too quickly. Or maybe walking away from Mr. Denham earlier made all the difference?
She definitely has nothing to worry about from me. Sleeping my way to the top has never been and will never be on my priority list.
I don’t understand the competitiveness that’s so common in this industry. We’re all so different. Everyone has their place, with their own following and fans. Maybe it’s my naiveté, being new and all.
“Thank you.” Pulling my shoulders back, I assume the trademark stance, hands on the hips and shifting my weight from side to side. “This bra doesn’t look too tight?”
Not that there’s much I can do about it now, but I’m curious about her opinion, too. I feel like my lady jugs will spring out any second, but it’s got to be my imagination, right? Jerard assured me it’d be fine.
Stepping closer, she runs her fingers under the band on the underside of my chest, tugging slightly. Pulling the straps at the top of my shoulders, she runs her fingers down them and then under the lace fabric, just slightly above my nipples.
“It’s not pinching your sides, but you’re swelling nicely out the top. The cups are a little small, but that’s what they like. You’re just lucky!” She winks, her exotic makeup magnifying her sultry expression. “Most models would never fill that out so perfectly.”
She smiles, not stepping away while maintaining eye contact.
Okay. I would say she swings both ways. I keep a friendly smile on my face while processing this change in direction.
I’m guessing her philosophy is ‘if you can’t beat them, you might as well join them’. Since Mr. Denham seems so interested in me, she figures we could be a package deal.
Fucking great. Not my style. Here’s hoping I won’t have to deal with that.
The music begins, ending our moment, and the line presses up in anticipation. All of us move a bit more towards the entrance to the runway, tightening the line.
Tracey walks by, tapping her chin with the back of her hand, signaling us to stand tall. She smiles when she reaches me.
“Just remember to let your arms move naturally with your body, swinging slightly but staying close to your body at all times.”
I nod to let her know I hear. This is something we’ve been working on.
Swiveling in a four-step circle, I relax my arms from my shoulders so they sway smoothly until I’m facing her again.
“Perfect.” Her eyes move to Serina, dismissing me.
I ignore their conversation and concentrate on breathing as the line moves swiftly towards the entrance to the runway.
This is it. I’ve put tons of hours into practicing for this moment, and the nervous butterflies are not going to go away. The excitement is part of what I like about it.
My turn comes much quicker than I anticipated. But I’m ready.
Entering the stage, I keep my entrance pose subtle, pausing briefly. I realize immediately that I can see further into the crowd then I thought I would be able to. I imagined a brighter stage and a darker crowd, but up to three rows back, I can see faces and expressions, easily visible.
Moving down the runway, I naturally maintain my neutral, semi-serious expression, hitting every cue I’ve practiced.
Pivoting at the end of the runway, I see Mr. Denham with the best seats in the front row center. His drilling stare seems to penetrate me, but I ignore it.
Keeping my chin up, I go through the standard routine. Shifting my weight, I turn before centering out for my final rotation to head back up and off the stage.
I feel more than hear the rip over the music, just as I center out to face the crowd. Cold air hits my tits as my flushed skin is exposed.
Glancing down in what feels like slow motion, I realize my entire chest is now displayed for the audience. Fuck!
Due to the design, when the lace gives way between the cups, the entire bra loosened and fell. That was all my restricted breasts needed, since they had been threatening to pop out.
Stunned, I hesitate. I look up directly into Mr. Denham’s creepy leer. His mouth is hanging slightly open, and I see his tongue flick out quickly over his bottom lip as if he’s just drooling for a taste. Disgusting.
Embarrassed, I try to pull up the cups, covering myself with my hands. What’s the protocol for a wardrobe malfunction?
I glance around while trying frantically to fix my bra and still maintain a semblance of modesty.
Looking at Mr. Denham again, he looks angry. Is he mad this is happening or mad I’m covering myself up? Certainly, he can’t be angry with me, right?
Before I can think any more about it, I hear a commotion on my left.
Turning, I see two guys leaping up from the crowd onto the stage. They’re both shrugging off their suit coats and in two steps have reached me.
Soft, satin-lined suit material hits my shoulders from behind, just as both of them wrap their coats around my front. Startled, I realize that another large man has jumped up on stage from the other side. I’m practically lifted by all three as they usher me back off the runway and into the waiting area behind the stage.
“How am I supposed to compete with that!” Serina wails before walking out onto the runway.
“Are you okay?” My brown-haired rescuer asks as he stands in front of me, reaching out with both hands to rub my upper arms.
“Yes. Thank you so much!” I’m sure my face is beet red based on how hot I feel. Or maybe it’s the three coats I’m now wearing.
“I’m Sam.” His green eyes capture my gaze. His brown hair makes his eyes sparkle in contrast.
“I’m Adam. And this is Charlie.” The tall blond who came to my aid from the right interrupts us. He is easily the tallest and introduces the brown-eyed, dark-haired man next to him.
Sam’s hands drop from my arms as I turn to acknowledge them all.
“I cannot thank you all enough.” Dropping my gaze to the floor, I’m sure I’ve never been more embarrassed. “I froze. It…we never discussed this occurring.”
“Whose fault is this?” Adam is looking around accusingly when I look up in surprise. “What happened here? Where’s Jerard?”
The scowl on Charlie’s face let’s me know he is in complete agreement with Adam.
“I don’t think this is anyone’s fault in particular…” I turn to Sam when he wraps an arm around my shoulders. He seems more concerned with me than placing blame.
I follow his gaze to see Jerard running up from the back, where the wardrobe is staged.
“They’ll get it sorted out.” His assurance doesn’t make me feel better. I just want to disappear and pretend this never happened.
“Ah, chick-a-dee. I’m so sorry!” Jerard spreads the robe he had flung over his shoulder for me.
Sam, Adam, and Charlie slowly remove their jackets one at a time.
“Shoo, shoo.” Fluttering his hands at the men, he turns me away from them and into his arms, patting my back. “I should ha
ve listened to you. You said you were worried. I’m so sorry.”
His sincere apology is almost drowned out by Adam’s voice. “We’ll see you later at the dance.”
Turning slightly, I wave briefly at them all. “Thank you again.”
Turning back to Jerard, he leads me to wardrobe slowly. His chatter is comforting as my mind settles from the incident.
How am I ever going to go to the dance after that? Fucking embarrassing!
It’s too bad, too, because they were all so good-looking. I wouldn’t mind getting to know one of them.
They were all such gentlemen. When Jerard covered me up with the robe, they were classy and looked away.
I accept a fresh glass of champagne as I sink into a chair while Jerard flutters around me, still apologizing.
I’m going to need the liquid courage, after all.
Chapter 3
Adam
This is so not my idea of a party. I’m used to the banquets, sure, but I’m much more used to women, music, singing my praise. I always sneak out of our big royal balls.
And a charity ball? Way too fucking tame.
Everyone’s swanning about, looking classy and talking about boring things. Not a hard beat to be heard, or a well-dressed set of tits in the place.
It’s been almost a year since we left the island, and we’re doing incredibly well. I’ve taken over as head of Finance, while Charlie and Sam are heads of Design and Marketing. We’ve got a solid hold on the company, and we’re waiting for the next big move.
Meanwhile, I’m having a mingle, drinking a bit too much, and wondering if I can keep myself from falling asleep. I can’t believe some people actually call this fun.
I mean, it’s alright, I guess. It’s just not exciting enough. Not to me.
The room seems to settle and go still around me as the crowd parts, and I see that hottie I rescued on the catwalk earlier. For a moment, I’m stunned.
Frozen in ice, and just as hard where it counts.
She’s incredible. She’s floating through the crowd, light as a feather on her very high heels.
She’s wearing a clinging, deep blue dress the exact shade of her eyes. The neckline is very low, draping from the shoulders with skinny straps. From her waist, it falls around her legs in sheer sweeps.
As she walks, the skirts swirl like leaves dancing by the breeze.
I’ve seen plenty of models, trust me, but she doesn’t have that same sort of style. She’s sure of herself, but not full of herself. You can just tell in her body language.
I’m moving towards her before I realize what I’m doing. Looks like this night is going to get pretty exciting after all. Eyes locked on to her, I take in more details as I get closer.
Soft, thick honey locks dressed up in a twist, leaving spare curls dangling down around her face. She’s wearing these killer dangling earrings a bit darker blue than the dress. A jeweled blue choker decorates her neck, long lines of beads shimmering across her skin towards her chest.
Against her light, golden tan, the blue is deep and looks like the sea lapping the shore. Deep blue against golden sand.
I could drown there. In her eyes, in her body. Just give me a shot.
This is the type of beauty you savor slowly, like the very best wine.
She looks a bit tense, sipping her drink daintily and smiling nervously. I join the crowd around her, touching her elbow lightly to get her attention.
“Hello there, gorgeous. Almost didn’t recognize you fully-clothed.” As she turns towards my voice, I give her a smile and a wink.
She blushes and grins as she looks up at me. The blush makes her look innocent and girlish, and I feel a pain in my crotch.
Christ, she’s hot.
“Hi! Ah, Adam? Is that right?”
“Yeah, babe, that’s me. You’re Lacey. I don’t forget the names of damsels I’ve saved.”
“So, that’s a regular thing for you then?” She grins coyly. “Must have quite a few names to remember.”
“No, no.” My smile softens. “There’s only the one that really got my attention.”
“Thank you so much for all your help today.” She leans in, putting her hand on my arm. “It’s really not what a girl wants for her first trot down the catwalk.”
“First time? No shit! Well, I think you did beautifully. You certainly had everyone’s full attention, and I’d venture to say you stole the show—and not just with your little mishap. That aside, I’d love to see more of you up on the runway.”
“You’re too sweet!” She giggles, a kind of secretive sound. Like we’re in on something together. It makes me grin back with a similar energy.
“So, it’s really your first show, huh? How do you like the industry?”
She sips her drink, smile growing deeper and more genuine.
“Actually, it’s not my first time in the industry. I’ve got plans for the future in fashion. Only the modeling gig was something new.”
“So, you aren’t a full-time model? I never would have guessed.” I take a sip of my drink, eyes appreciating every inch of her and loving it more every second that goes by.
“Are you making fun of me?” She squints her eyes, looking at me cock-eyed. I find myself laughing.
“Maybe just a little. Seriously, though. Anyone can have a wardrobe malfunction. You were all class out there.”
“You really think so? I was a bit nervous. All the other girls are so experienced and confident.”
“Well, you have the confidence down, don’t worry about that one bit.”
The sounds of the crowd, their highs and lows of conversation and tinkling glasses, rises and falls around us. I’ve almost forgotten where we are. I can’t stop looking at her.
The dress clings lovingly to her curves, sweeping under her big, ripe breasts, falling against her dainty waist, and caressing her lush hips as it falls into the many layered skirt.
“You like my dress?”
She’s playing with the straw in her drink, touching it lightly with fingertips and lips as she watches me take her entire being in. Her eyes are sparkling with mischief, and she has a half grin playing at her cheeks.
“I do like your dress.” I lean in close, whispering against her ear so close that my breath stirs the earrings, tickling at her neck. “But even more…I think I like what’s underneath it.”
She blushes as I pull away. She grins, blinking and looking cute. My groin has that ache again.
God, I want to just grab her and press my lips to hers. Right here, right now. Don’t give a fuck who’s watching.
I want to feel that velvety skin under my hands. I want to feel her hot mouth opening to mine.
“I’m sorry.” She blushes again, trying to keep her eyes on mine. “I’m not so great at flirting.”
“I think you’re doing fine.” My smile spreads as I see her perk up under my attention. I don’t think she’s even aware that she’s doing it. But the longer my eyes linger, the more she responds.
It’s almost instinctual
Straightening her back to flatten her tummy and push out her chest. Raising one hand to play with her neckline or her choker. Playing with the straw, teasing it in her lips.
All to draw my attention to those places.
I step a bit closer, breathing in her scent.
“So…do you have a boyfriend? Anyone special?”
She shakes her head. “No, not right now.”
“How is a sexy, smart babe like you still single?”
She shrugs, straps sliding down her shoulders. Her breasts do a slight jiggle, and my eyes slip down, just for a second.
“I guess I just never found anyone worth the time. I’ve got my career to worry about, you know?”
I nod, taking a sip of my drink. “I understand completely.”
We stand quietly for a second, looking over the crowd. Impeccably dressed people, carefully talking about nothing. It pisses me off a bit.
“So, Lacey, what do you like to do f
or fun? What gets you excited?”
“Oh, you know. I love movies and fashion, I’ll do anything to do with those. Eating out, going to a club…what about you?”
I lean in, smiling. I’m ready to put a hand around her waist and lose my drink so I can slip her into a dance.
“I like fast cars. Strip clubs. Late nights in busy pubs. I like thrills. Places like this—they’re okay. Just not enough action.”
She sips her drink. “I suppose. I’ve found it pretty exciting, but then again, it’s my first fashion show.”
I put my drink down nearby, reaching out to put a hand around her waist. I draw her close, but not too close. Just gently pulling her towards me so the heat of her is rising up to my face.
She smells incredible.
“It all depends on your idea of excitement, I guess.” I whisper, close to her face.
My voice is husky. My need for her is rising into my throat. It’s a delicious sensation, bleeding through my body from my bones.
I’m wild with desire—yet restrained, like a beast in a cage of his own making.
She raises her head to look into my eyes, and I think I really might drown this time. She blinks, eyes amazingly big, blue and deep. She’s so innocent; I can see it in how she responds to my touch.
Pliant. Agreeable. But wondering.
A fresh curiosity that you just don’t get with experienced girls. Innocent, begging to be taken, with a carnal desire she can’t wait to explore.
She’s raising her face to mine, lips turning up, eyes falling half-closed. A light smile lingers on her face as I lean down, ready to press her lips to mine.
Once I do that, the fire in me will ignite her. Flames of passion pouring from our mouths, spreading heat to between our legs.
The anticipation is exquisite. I want to draw it out. Enjoy this moment—fresh, beautiful, willing, right here in my hands.
A high, nasal voice cracks through our magic moment.
“Why, there you are, Lacey!”
I try to hold on to her, but she pulls herself up, drawn and tense. I let go, and she takes two steps back.
“Oh. Hello, Mr. Denham,” she says quietly, fiddling with an earring and picking up her drink from a nearby table.
