Must Be Love: (Nicole and Ryan) (A Jetty Beach Romance Book 1)

by Claire Kingsley

  "I actually have a client this morning," I say.

  "Oh, no," she says. Her eyebrows draw down and her shoulders slump. "I'm so sorry. I'll go."

  I kind of don’t want her to go, but it isn’t like I can let her stay while I shoot Joanne. And why do I want her to stay? My urge to make her feel better is so strong. I want to reach out and draw her close, kiss away the furrows in that adorable brow, work my way down. I move to open the door, trying to get that image out of my mind.

  Joanne's anxious face greets me. She's done her makeup, and her light brown hair hangs loose. She has a handbag over one shoulder and a duffel bag in her hands.

  I take a deep breath. "Hey, Joanne. It's good to see you. Come on in."

  "Hi, Ryan," she says, her voice a bit shaky. She comes in and sets down her bag, then smiles at Nicole.

  "Hi, sorry," Nicole says. "I'm Nicole."

  "I'm so relieved," Joanne says. "I love that you have a female assistant this time. I think that will help a lot. I'm so sorry about our last session."

  Female assistant? Oh, shit. "No, don't worry about it at all," I say. "I want you to be relaxed. Think of our last appointment as a getting-to-know-you session. I learned more about you, and you had a chance to get comfortable with me."

  "That's true," she says. "I still haven't told my husband about any of this. That's why I came out here with girlfriends this time. I didn't want him to get the wrong idea and think I was coming to the beach for some other reason."

  "No, we don't want that," I say. "Why don't you go take a look at the setting I've put together for you, and see if any of the clothing on the rack over there is to your liking. You can wear something of your own, or I brought out a few selections for you to try. Find something that makes you feel good. There's a screen over there, you can step behind it and change."

  Joanne nods with a smile. She already seems far more relaxed than she was last time. Nicole stands in one spot, a classic deer-in-headlights look on her face. I wait until Joanne is busy looking at the clothes, and move closer to Nicole.

  "Listen, Joanne is a really sweet client. This is her second try for a boudoir session—last time she was too anxious and we never took any pictures. If having you here makes her comfortable…" I trail off, hoping Nicole will be willing to stay. It’s sweet that she came to apologize and the truth is, I don’t want her to leave, not until we have more of a chance to talk. If she can help me with my client, that’s even better.

  "I have no idea what I'm doing," she says. "I'm afraid I'll get in your way."

  I shake my head. "You won't. I'll tell you what to do." She draws in a quick breath and her cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink. Fuck, that was hot. Please don't look at my pants. I can't handle your eyes on my cock right now. "Maybe you could go make Joanne a mimosa? I have the stuff in my fridge."

  "Yes," she says, a look of relief in her eyes. "I can do that."

  I try to discreetly adjust my pants as I walk over to Joanne. The last thing I need to do is freak her out with my bulging dick. I smile at her, telling myself to keep it professional. Nicole doesn’t need to be a distraction. She'll help Joanne feel good about her session.

  Yep. I can do this.

  My heart flutters while I pop the cork on the bottle of champagne in Ryan's kitchen. I spent the entire drive to his house petrified, sure he would either ignore me or shut the door in my face. I thought my apology was going okay, but then his client arrived. That was a curve ball I didn’t see coming. My first thought when he answered the door was how much I wanted to stay. Everything feels so unfinished between us. I don’t want to leave without knowing whether or not he forgives me.

  And the way he looks, dressed all nice for his client. I'm so lame, I practically fanned myself. The sleeves of his button-down shirt strain against his muscular arms and his hands look strong, yet dexterous. Of course I checked out his ass when he answered the door. I did not know a man could make simple slacks look that good. I want to take a bite out of it.

  I pour the champagne into a fluted glass, leaving room for a splash of orange juice, and let out a deep breath. Get yourself together, Nicole. You need to be professional. I’m nervous about helping on his shoot—I wasn’t kidding when I said I have no idea what I’m doing. Ryan said he'd tell me what to do. Son of a bitch, why did those words make my panties wet?

  I add a splash of orange juice and put the glass on a little silver tray he has sitting on the counter. There’s a bowl of washed strawberries next to the sink, so I cut the stems off a few, add them to a little plate, and put everything on the tray. Champagne and strawberries are such a decadent touch. I notice he has a box of fancy chocolates sitting out as well. Wow, this guy thinks of everything.

  Ryan is adjusting the lights in the studio when I come out. He moves one, then steps back, tilting his head to the side to study the composition. Soft music plays in the background—something classical, and just loud enough to give the room a soothing ambiance. Joanne is behind a large folding screen, so I wait nearby, holding the tray like a waitress. She emerges in a flowing beige gown with a deep neckline. It looks fabulous on her, but I can tell by her body language that she’s unsure of herself.

  "Here," I say, holding out the tray. She gives me a grateful smile and takes the champagne flute.

  "Thanks," she says. "I think I'll need this."

  "You don't have anything to be nervous about," I say. My eyes flick to Ryan. "You're in great hands."

  He gives me his lopsided grin and a tingle runs down my spine.

  "Okay, Joanne, take your time," Ryan says. "When you're ready, we'll do a few test shots. There's no pressure, I'm just going to be sure of the lighting."

  Joanne takes a quick breath and hands me her half-empty glass. Ryan positions her on the white couch, laying her across it horizontally, her back propped up with pillows. She fusses with her dress while Ryan gets his camera.

  "Just sit back and relax," he says. "I'll even delete these. Don't worry about posing or smiling or anything."

  He takes a few shots, bringing his camera down to look at the screen in between. He adjusts a few lights and takes another. Joanne lays on the couch, looking a bit stiff, and plucks at the gown.

  "All right," he says. "This looks really good. Now, we'll start slow. I don't want you to worry about anything. Take a few deep breaths, maybe another sip of champagne."

  I dart in and give her the drink. She takes a long swallow and sets it back on the tray.

  "Perfect. You look lovely," Ryan says. His voice has gone soft and low, sending shivers through me. "This is going to sound strange, but clench your hands into fists for a second. Good. Now let them go, relax your fingers. Perfect. Do the same with your shoulders. Scrunch them up, hold there. Now release."

  Ryan walks around a light and regards her with that head tilt again. He hasn’t taken any pictures other than the first shots to test his lighting. "Next, close your eyes. Just soft, don't squeeze them shut. Now, I'm going to come near you and you're going to feel me touch your hair a little." Joanne's eyes drift closed and Ryan moves in. He adjusts her hair, running his fingers through it and teasing it out, messing it up a little. He lifts her chin with a finger and smooths the folds of her dress.

  "You're doing beautifully, Joanne," he says. "Don't do it yet, but when I give you the word, you're going to open your eyes. Slowly. You're relaxed and happy. Satisfied. Your body feels warm. The couch is soft beneath you, your dress whispers across your skin. Open."

  Joanne's eyes flutter open and her lips part. Ryan snaps a few pictures.

  "Beautiful," Ryan says, absolute sincerity in his tone. "Let your head move to the right ever so slightly. Good. Now, stay relaxed. Trust me. These look incredible already, but I think we can do better. Go deeper."

  Deeper sends a jolt through me.

  "All right," Joanne says.

  "Move your hips just a little," Ryan says.

  "Ryan, I don't know—"

  "Shh," he says, putting a f
inger to his lips. "No talking for a few minutes. In fact, you're not allowed to talk right now."

  Oh, damn.

  Joanne squeaks out a short reply but Ryan smiles at her, ridiculous dimples and all, and she goes silent. I stand, transfixed, and almost drop the tray. It bobbles in my hand, but I recover before anything falls. Instead of inviting disaster, I set it down on a side table.

  "Move your hips, Joanne. Rock them back and forth a tiny bit. Don't be afraid. You can trust me. Now open your knees a bit. Not too much yet. Good. Take your hands and run them up and down your thighs. Lightly, just to relax your legs. Good. Now let your left leg drop open. Yes, your foot can dangle down to the floor, that's perfect."

  He talks to her in his velvety voice, easing her into slight variations of her position. Her eyes follow him as he moves around her. He takes pictures from different angles, consulting the screen on the back of his camera in between shots. His steady stream of encouragement and commands goes on.

  Dropping to one knee, he shoots another picture. "This is amazing, Joanne. Let's do something else. What does your husband like? What part of you is his favorite?"

  "Oh gosh, I don't know," she says.

  "Come on, Joanne," Ryan says, coaxing her. "Breasts, ass?"

  "I can't believe I'm doing this," she says. "Um, ass, I guess."

  "That's what I would have guessed," Ryan says. "Sit up and we're going to have you get on your knees with your hands on the back of the couch. Perfect."

  He grabs a white sheet from a nearby table and hands it to me. I take it and he leans in close, speaking low into my ear. "I want to get her undressed for this next bit, but I think she'll do it for you rather than me. I want the sheet draped around her, and she can hold the front up over her chest. I'll come in and adjust it."

  I nod and gently shake the sheet open.

  "Okay, Joanne, you're doing amazing. Stay with me. Nicole's going to come over with a sheet. She'll help you slip off the gown and you can hold the sheet around yourself."

  "I—"

  "I said no talking, remember?"

  I dart in and put the sheet on the couch, then lift her gown over her head. She lets me undress her without a hint of protest. She’s wearing a lacy thong and pretty matching bra. I glance back at Ryan.

  He mouths, Bra off.

  I try to mimic Ryan's soothing tone. "Okay, Joanne, I'm going to unhook your bra, but you can hold this sheet up."

  She holds still while I take off her bra, slipping the straps off her shoulders. I drape the sheet over her, giving her the edge to hold up over her breasts. Her breath comes fast but she complies, and I adjust the sheet around her, leaving it to cascade down the side of her leg. Her ass is bare, save for the strip of thong; the lighting glints off her skin.

  I move out of the way and Ryan takes a couple shots without saying anything. Joanne holds still, her posture rigid.

  "Look at me," Ryan says, a sharp note of command in his voice. My eyes immediately dart to him. Joanne turns her neck and he snaps a few more pictures.

  "Imagine a hand sliding up your back," Ryan says. He moves while he talks, finding a new angle. "It's strong and warm. It runs up to your neck, fingers brushing through your hair." Joanne's head drifts back. "The hand runs down, caressing your silky soft skin. The fingers trail down your backside and slip between your thighs."

  I swallow hard, heat building between my legs. Joanne sucks in a breath and arches her back. Something in her posture changes. Her shoulders relax and her ass tilts back, giving her a sensual silhouette.

  Ryan has a look of triumph on his face. "Take your hand and run it up and down your body. Perfect. Lean your head back and let your hair cascade down your back. Two hands are on you now. They grip your hips. You want this. You want him to come in behind you and press himself against you. Look at me. Fingers tease between your thighs, running between the soft folds. Gentle pressure in just the right spot. It sends a thrill through you, a burst of pleasure."

  Oh my god.

  He moves in again and adjusts the sheet, then backs away a few steps. He talks faster. "Run your hand down your stomach. Stop. Look at me. You do what I say, you hear me, Joanne?"

  She gives a feeble nod.

  "Let the sheet drop and hold your breasts. They feel good in your hands. His hands are on you too, touching, caressing. Your skin tingles everywhere. He slips his fingers inside you. He knows how to touch you, moving in and out, circling, curling. He rubs his thumb on your clit and you can barely stand it. You want more. You want him inside you."

  Fucking hell. My heart races and my skin is on fire.

  "This is amazing, Joanne," he says. "Look at me over your other shoulder. You're beautiful like this."

  She is. The mousy, anxious woman is gone and in her place is a gorgeous, sexual being. She doesn’t have a model's body, but Ryan seems to know how to get her to move to accent every curve and show her from the best angle. Her body is relaxed, yet alive. Ryan continues shooting, moving in to adjust a detail, then moving out again to take more photos.

  He stands and looks down at his camera again. "These are incredible. I think we have everything we need."

  Joanne seems to melt. She looks around for the sheet, as if she suddenly realizes she’s almost naked. I rush in and help her pull the sheet around her.

  She blinks, as if coming out of a trance. Her lips turn up in a slow smile. "I did it?"

  Ryan comes closer. "You were unbelievable, Joanne."

  He catches my eye and holds my gaze. My panties are drenched, my pussy so hot I can hardly stand it. The memory of his words washes over me.

  Joanne stands, holding the sheet around herself. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me."

  "There's no need to apologize," Ryan says. "This was absolutely perfect."

  She goes back behind the screen to change. I keep my eyes on the ground. I don’t dare look up at Ryan. The back of my neck burns with his gaze, but I know if I meet his eyes, I won’t be able to control myself. I've never felt anything like this in my entire life—this burning need. It consumes me.

  "Wait here," Ryan says, in that same soft, soothing voice he's been using. I don’t dream of disobeying him. His voice is my world, my reality. I wait, breathing hard.

  It takes every ounce of self-control I have to finish up with Joanne. I wait for her to dress, give her a bottled water, and explain when she can expect to hear from me regarding the finished photos. My dick feels like it’s going to burst. Concentration is almost impossible, and I stumble over my words more than once. Nicole's presence in my studio calls to me like a siren's song. I’m entranced.

  I've never taken my coaxing quite that far with a client before. Every word was what I want to do to Nicole. Still, I made myself hold back, images flashing through my mind that I didn't dare give voice to. It worked better than I could have imagined. Joanne was as pliable as soft clay, doing everything I asked of her. She dropped her inhibitions and showed me the side of herself I knew was there. And I captured it all.

  But all I can think about is Nicole.

  Nicole literally doesn’t move while I usher Joanne outside, her eyes locked on the floor in front of her. Did I scare her? Repulse her? Not everyone will understand what I do. They’ll see it as inappropriate, or like I’m taking advantage of my clients. All I want is to bring out their inner passion. To stoke the flame that every woman carries, and help them remember they are desirable.

  "Nicole."

  I let her name hang in the air. Nicole breaths hard. Her scent tickles my nose and I move closer, afraid I might scare her away.

  "Look at me."

  She turns her head toward me, her eyes blinking slowly, her lips open. Her face is deliciously flushed. I want her so bad it sends shockwaves through my limbs. My cock throbs. I take a few more steps, holding her eyes with mine.

  Nicole's tongue darts out to lick her lips. Fuck me. Should I do it? Should I pounce before she gets away? I stalk her, moving like a cat on the hunt, easing m
y way closer.

  I stop mere inches away. My breath comes fast, and my eyes devour her. She’s so close, I can feel her body heat, tempting me. She’s tantalizing. Her collarbone stands out with each breath, her breasts straining against her dress. I should go slowly. Soft and sweet for Nicole. I hesitate, holding myself in check, stretching out the agony.

  Until she bites her lower lip. Then I’m done for.

  I surge in, grabbing the back of her neck, and pull her mouth to mine. Her body melts against me, her hands slipping around my waist. I suck her lower lip into my mouth and let my bottom teeth drag across it—not so hard that it hurts, but enough that she gasps. I moan as she presses into me, rubbing her body against my swollen cock, and let her lip go.

  "Ryan."

  She says my name and grabs my cock through my pants. Why are we wearing these fucking clothes?

  "Oh my god, Nicole, I need you. I fucking need to be inside you right now."

  Breathlessly, she nods. I yank her sweater off and let it fall to the floor. We back up toward the couch, pulling our clothes off like they’re on fire. I grab her, pulling her close, and rub my hands down her back. Her breasts press into me and her skin against mine is amazing. I bury my face in her neck, her scent filling me. Grabbing her ass, I squeeze, pushing my cock against her.

  Nicole groans. "I want your cock in me, Ryan. I want it now."

  Her voice centers me. I could throw her down on the couch and pound her until I come. But this is Nicole Prescott. I never dreamed I'd have her naked in my studio, begging me to fuck her. This is not something I can rush.

  I push the pillows aside and lay her down on the couch. Instead of climbing on top of her, I get on my knees and push her legs apart. She’s almost bare, just a sexy as hell triangle left in front. Fuck me, that’s hot. I slide my hands down her thighs and she tilts her hips up.

  "Don't make me wait," she says.

  I lean in and trail my hand down, feeling the soft folds of skin. "You're already so wet." I tease my fingers up and down, exploring. She shivers and moans, but when her fingers dig into the cushions and her back arches, I know I found the right spot. I push two fingers inside her and massage her clit with my thumb.