by Iris Blaire
He hums in approval, palming my bare breast. "No bra. I'd like to think that’s because you were hoping I'd corner you in a hallway and undress you."
"It's because bras suck and are worthless."
"I'm fine with that," he says, and lowers his mouth to my hard nipple, biting down. The pain is so delicious, like an orgasm in itself, that I grip the back of his neck, holding him to me, and whisper, "Fuck."
He stands straight and tugs the strap of my dress back up. "I'll leave you wet for tonight," he says before biting down on my bottom lip and dragging his teeth across.
When he releases me, I gasp, "I hate you."
He chuckles, and the cab outside beeps. "Gotta run," he says, leaving me alone in the dark hallway.
When I gather my senses, I hurry up to my bedroom. There is only one way I'll be able to clear my head. I slip off my dress, snatch my vibrator from the nightstand drawer, and slink beneath the sheets of my bed.
When I was sixteen, I decided that orgasms were medicinal. I read too many issues of Cosmo, and there were too many horror stories about women relying on guys for great sex and then never getting off. That wasn't going to be me. I'd teach myself to come, to relieve pressure, to have an absolute blast by myself, and that I did. First were my fingers, and then, when I figured out how magical it was, the shower head. And finally, when I was adventurous enough to enter an adult shop at eighteen, lots and lots of vibrators.
Jaime isn't going to leave me wet and wanting him.
It doesn't take me long to get myself off, and when I do, I plot all of the ways to make Jaime feel as vulnerable as he has made me. I easily come up with the perfect plan.
I haven't been taking advantage of Jaime enough as a model. As my employee. He's my sexy bisexual eye candy and so far he's gotten away with not living up to his title.
I roll over in bed and grab my phone, texting Adam.
Be prepared. I am going to make you work tomorrow.
///
"I want a gay shoot."
Andrea, me, Jaime, and Adam stand around a desk in the study of Micah's beach house. I've pulled them in here for a meeting. Or maybe not a meeting. More like, I've pulled them in here to insist my demands are met.
Jaime and Adam exchange glances. "And you've chosen us why?" Jaime asks.
"Because the two of you are obviously up for it, and I wouldn't be pained by the awkwardness and discomfort of two totally straight guys trying to fool around. That's why."
"And what about girls?" Adam challenges. "You can't be sexist, Brit. If you have a gay shoot, you have to have a lesbian shoot, too."
He thinks he's being so clever. "First of all, you only are pulling the sexist card because you want to watch a lesbian shoot, pervert."
"We're all perverts," Jaime says.
I clamp my fingers together, motioning for him to zip it. "Secondly, I am having a lesbian shoot with Ella and Chloe, because they're both fucking hot and the thought of them together makes me squirm and I don't squirm easily. So that argument is invalid.
"But what if—”
I cut Adam off again. "I want you two. In the shower. Kissing, licking, touching each other. Thirty minutes from now. Got it?"
They're both grinning, so I know my demands aren't making them uncomfortable. They're just trying to fuck with me.
"But this shoot still has to somehow revolve around a woman. Remember our theme?" Andrea says.
"Balls." I think for a moment, and the answer comes easily. "We'll bring a girl in later. Have her interrupt them. But I want the boys to be together at first."
"So Britain wants me to play with her boyfriend." Adam muses.
"He's not my boyfriend," I respond quickly, and then make the bad decision of looking at Jaime. He's staring at me with hooded, mysterious eyes, as though he's forcing himself to not react to what I just said.
I turn on my heel and hurry to the center of the house before yelling, "Who wants to pose in a three-way with Adam and Jaime?"
I shouldn't have even asked. Not a split second goes by before I hear Delilah shriek, "Me!"
"Fix your hair and makeup then. Make sure to waterproof yourself."
I grab my camera before searching for Cam, who arrived at Micah's house this morning. I find him downstairs, raiding the fridge.
"Psst," I nudge him in the ribs and he jumps.
"Jesus, Brit."
"I need a dude's point of view. There are a few solo shots of Ella that I can't decide between. Andrea's looking at them on my laptop right now."
He presses his hand to his chest over-dramatically. "You want me to help you with your work. Britain McCulley, I am such a huge fan. This is the biggest honor."
"Shut the fuck up before I change my mind."
He frowns and uncaps the gallon of milk.
"You better not drink directly from that because that's fucking gross and you aren't five."
"You promised me that I would be able to sit in on some shoots. I'll pick a photo after."
"Not this one."
"Why not?"
"Because you won't like it."
He narrows his eyes, and I can practically see the gears turning in his head. "Why won't I like it?"
Sooner or later he's going to find out. He's going to count the heads of the models out by the pool or in their rooms, anywhere other than the locked bathroom, and he's going to realize who's missing. If not, then he'll see it in the storybook when it's published. "It's two guys, okay? Jaime and Adam."
Cam freezes. He doesn't realize he's tilting his hand until milk pours on his shirt, and he jumps back from the stream.
I sigh. "Yes, I'm doing a hot guy-on-guy shoot with your ex-best friend."
Cam reaches for a paper towel. "And Jaime's okay with that?"
"Uhh... Yeah. I don't force my models to do anything they're uncomfortable with."
Cam drops to the ground to clean up the milk, keeping his head bowed.
"He isn't completely gay, Cam." Well, at least, he isn't strictly into guys. But I don't need to go into details about Jaime's sexual preferences with my brother. "Anyway, go pick that photo. The next will be a female-female shoot. You can sit in on that one. Surely more up your alley."
Cam's staring at me with a frown, probably still disturbed by the fact that I just told him Jaime was about to shoot erotica with a man. Jaime and Adam had some steamy shoots in Boston, one in a cage with the other models and another with Evan, but when I quit EPE, those were still property of Amora Acquisitions, and they never used them. Therefore, they never ended up in an issue that Cam saw.
I wonder if Cam realizes how much Jaime has changed since he got fired.
I head to the best bathroom on the second floor, one with a stone encrusted, walk-in shower. A gorgeous shower. A shower that's going to look great in photos.
Like anyone's going to be paying attention to the shower.
Andrea walks into the bathroom, whistling slowly. "Hot damn. Honestly, Brit, I don't know how much of this shoot I'll be able to handle." She giggles. "My heart is already racing."
"Here." I motion toward the modern tub sunken into the floor. "You sit in the tub with your notebook and scribble down a scene from there, and whenever it gets too hot to handle, you can just lie down until you feel better."
"Wow, Brit. That's...that's..." she looks up in thought. "Actually a damn good idea."
The boys soon join us. They're still wearing their shorts, but Andrea is already blushing furiously. Slowly, she sinks into the tub with her notebook, and I have to bite back my laughter.
"This will be a minimal direction scene," I tell Adam and Jaime. “You do your thing and I'll take my photos."
That's what they're good at. I remember back in Boston when Jaime and Adam were in the cage. Fucking magic, just like that.
Or when they simultaneously made out with me when we were playing the kissing game in Veda Manor. I squeeze my legs together when heat floods the apex of my thighs. Oh, god. Not now, Brit. You can't be imagi
ning yourself sandwiched between Adam and Jaime in the shower or you’re going to have to join Andrea in the tub.
At least I know what I'll be having Delilah do.
They strip off their shorts and I busy myself with turning on the shower, getting the water warm. I back up, nearly tripping over the toilet before I decide to use it as my seat as Jaime and Adam get ready.
Delilah enters the bathroom in only a robe, looking like Christmas came early. She bounces over to where I am, sitting on the floor. "Oh god, Oh god, is this real life? I cannot believe you are allowing me to do this. And with Jaime..."
"Just don't fuck him, okay?" I murmur. "Anything else is on the table. Adam, you can fuck. Adam, you will probably end up fucking, knowing the two of you."
"Yes ma'am."
For my viewing pleasure, I snap a pic of their perfect asses as Jaime follows Adam into the shower.
Andrea's already lying down in the tub.
I clear my throat and stand, adjusting my lens. "Alright. Do your thing."
The water cascade’s over Jaime's face, swirling down his cut torso in rivulets. His eyes lock on mine before Adam hooks his finger under his jaw. Jaime's forced to turn toward him and meet his lips.
I wish I didn't have to look through the camera for this. I wish I could just sit and watch Jaime and Adam make out beneath the jet of water. Andrea slowly raises her head above the rim of the bathtub to watch.
Adam's tongue slips over Jaime's lower lip. Jaime moans, even though we aren't filming. The moan is primal. Real.
I'm pretty sure Delilah is chanting a prayer so she doesn't have a heart attack. Or so her ovaries don't explode.
When I try to speak, I choke on my own words. I have to clear my throat three times before I can string together a coherent sentence. "Try to tastefully... err... hide yourselves."
Jaime's hand slips down to cover Adam's erection.
"Oh sweet mother of everything holy in this world," Delilah whispers.
"Not exactly what I meant, but that works," I mumble.
I watch them, a mixture of jealousy and heat and pure lust swirling in my stomach. Adam leans against the stone wall of the shower, and I catch a shot of Jaime licking up his neck.
The shower is full of a whole lot of lean muscle, but they aren't rough with each other. They're gentle, comfortable with each other, like they don't have any reason to prove their masculinity.
I wonder how the sex would be between them.
"Fuck."
When Adam and Jaime glance at me, I realize I muttered the curse out loud.
"Having a hard time handling yourself?" Adam asks me, running his hands down Jaime's abs.
I decide to come out with it. I drop my camera. "Be honest. Have you two ever, you know..."
Adam raises his eyebrows. "Fucked?"
Jaime blushes. Jaime Rivera fucking blushes and drops his head, spitting out water.
"Oh my god," Delilah hisses. "You never told me!"
"Relax." Adam turns Jaime towards the jet of water so that Adam is standing behind him. "We haven't." He kisses Jaime on the back, tongue trailing along his shoulder blade. "Doesn't mean we haven't talked about it though."
"When?" I dare to ask.
"A few months ago. I was visiting SoCal and we met up."
Adam grinds his hips into Jaime's ass and Jaime squeezes his eyes shut, resting his head on the wall in front of him.
Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.
"He wouldn't though." Adam's lips brush against the cuff of Jaime's ear. "He was still hung up on you, Brit."
Jaime stiffens. I glance over at Delilah. Her jaw is slack and she looks like she's about to drool everywhere.
"Get in there before I do," I whisper to her.
Delilah jumps up, but before she can take off her robe, I raise my camera again. Adam and Jaime think I'm done shooting, and Adam's whispering something to Jaime as he has him pressed between him and the wall, his hips square with Jaime's ass. Jaime's eyes are shut, like he's submitting.
I snap the shot. My evidence.
Delilah drops her robe and walks up to the shower, and the boys separate. After some directing, Adam picks her up and she wraps her legs around his waist, arms around his neck. Jaime stands so Delilah's sandwiched between them, reaching around Delilah and cupping her breasts.
Their shameless work.
I chose to be on this side of the camera because I'm good at it, and I like my hot dogs and beer and ice cream and everything else that makes you too fat to model. But sometimes I'm envious of the fact that they can shamelessly engage in sexy, taboo scenarios for the sake of their career. That they have their career as their excuse.
It's not every day that you can just pull two insanely sexy men into a shower and ask them to play with you.
Andrea looks like she's finally gotten a hold of herself now that Delilah is in the picture. Still sitting in the bathtub, she's scribbling down notes furiously.
Delilah is literally two centimeters from screwing Adam, and it would probably be her eighth time screwing him today. Actually, the first person to look uncomfortable is Jaime, and I realize I'm losing him.
I drop my camera. "That's a wrap." I help Andrea out of the bathtub. "You three can dry off and change and take the rest of the day off. I got a lot of good shots." Too many to count.
Andrea and I leave the bathroom, and I pop out my SD card and hand it to her. "To piece together a storyline."
"The raw photos? Really?" she questions, gaping at the memory card. "You never give me raw photos."
"I'm not going to be able to look at those for a solid month so you might as well."
"And you think I can?" she cries. Without waiting for an answer, she retreats to her room, muttering to herself.
She has the right idea. Needing a second alone, I take over Miguel's and Jaime's bedroom, shutting the door and sliding down it. There are way too many things running through my head for me to sort out my thoughts, so I rest my forehead against my knees and shut my eyes.
My peace is disrupted seconds later when there's a knock on the door. I stand to open it. It's Jaime, half-dressed and dripping wet and gorgeous. I can tell he's still hard.
So completely, utterly fuckable.
"Waiting for me?" he asks.
I frown. "Needed a moment to myself. I guess this wasn't the best room to choose."
As he steps into the room, I turn away from him and walk to the window. Since I can't really form coherent thoughts at the moment, I wait for him to speak first. I watch out my window as Dallas, Evan, Miguel, and Ella play chicken in the infinity pool. Ella takes Evan down. I hear the click of Jaime locking the door.
I'm not expecting Jaime to say, "I'm sorry."
I swivel toward him, furrowing my eyebrows.
He sits on the edge of my bed and clasps his hands on his lap. He looks guilty as all hell. "Adam... called me up when he was in LA a few months ago."
So it's true. Adam wasn't just teasing me. I shrug, trying to make little of the news. "So what? I thought you two didn't fuck."
"We didn't. I wanted to, but I couldn't. Adam wasn't lying. I was still hung up on you."
My throat closes. I spin back toward the window so he can't see my reaction.
"Still am hung up on you."
He pauses, waiting for me to say something back. But I can't think of anything smart or witty to lighten the conversation. So instead, I say, "You sleep with guys a lot?" I wince. Stupid, Brit. I don't want this to be about Jaime's sexuality. It shouldn't have to be. I mean, other than the fact that every time I shoot Jaime and Adam, I nearly pass out from being so turned on.
"Sometimes," he says.
When I have the guts to face him again, he looks like he's thinking critically about something. "Why do you ask?" he cocks an eyebrow slowly. "You want to shoot me and Adam?"
A nervous laugh escapes my mouth. "I don't think I'd be able to handle watching you and Adam screwing." I bite my lip before adding. "I'd be too jealous."
His face brightens for a flicker of a second before he hides his relief. Slowly, I walk over to him. I reach out and trace my forefinger over his lips, lips that Adam just got done kissing. I can't believe what I'm about to ask, but I've already spoken too much. Might as well hop in with both feet. "How's it different than being with a girl?"
He chuckles. "Technically? You need an anatomy lesson, Brit?"
I scowl. "Not technically."
"I'm more aggressive with guys."
"Bullshit. You and Adam were practically being cuddly in the shower."
"Didn't want to freak you out."
I slip between his legs and rest my hands on his shoulders. "Honestly, what am I going to do to convince you that you can't freak me out? I know you can't get over the whole innocent, naive Britain thing, but we've screwed. And I'm a porn photographer, for fuck's sake."
Deviance lights up his eyes and I know I just started something. Jaime’s hands grab my hips and I'm flipped onto his bed, landing on my stomach. My first reaction is to giggle as he gets behind me and pulls my ass up toward his hips. I reach out, steadying myself on the headboard as he holds me to him.
"See, with you, it's easy for me to be dominant because you're a lot smaller than me. Some guys like submitting, and others put up a fight."
He rocks his hips into me, and I can feel his erection against my ass.
"You?" I gasp.
"Depends on who I'm with." He rocks his hips into me again. I shut my eyes, memorizing the possessive way he holds me, grinding himself into me. Jaime's always done a great job toying with me—everything between us has been a sexy game. But this is different. It's like he needs to show me this side of him.
Regardless of what side he wants to show me, I laugh. It escapes me in a nervous giggle. "I'm sorry."
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing. You're just unpredictable is all." I roll my hips back into him, and a low groan escapes his mouth.
He flips me over, and I gasp as my back hits the bed.
"And you're not?"
"Touché."
He studies me for a hot minute, cockeyed grin growing on his face. "You're honestly the most ballsy woman I've ever met. Working while in Malibu... you say you're afraid of your parents, but I secretly think you want them to find out."
