by Julie Kenner
When she heard him suck in a breath, bite off a short curse and saw his cock spring forward with interest as he took the shot, she reconsidered. Doing what he said, she looked over at the spot where he’d held her against the wall, buried inside of her, and pushed up on all fours, looking back at him over her shoulder. The click of the camera and his harsh breathing egged her on.
“You’re so incredibly hot,” he said, his voice rough, telling her he was not unaffected. “Touch yourself for me.”
The lens connected them; model and photographer were always linked in an intimate way, even more so in this kind of situation. She did as he asked, catching her breath as her hand slipped between her legs and found her skin sensitive and soft. She knew how to make herself feel good, and didn’t hold back. Hearing the soft hum of the zoom focusing, she knew he was making it a tighter shot. As liquid warmth seemed to move through her limbs, she lost her self-consciousness and let her eyes rest on his sex. It was perfectly built, like the rest of him, and it strained toward her.
“You have the most beautiful cock. I want to suck you,” she said softly, trembling as her own touch brought her to the edge.
“I’d love to see that, Lacey. I want to see your mouth moving on me, making me come,” he growled as he took the shot, and his words, the image they built in her mind, pushed gentle cries of pleasure past her lips.
She opened her eyes as he set the camera on the dresser and turned to her, his body set in rigid, sensual tension.
“Can we set this on remote?”
She told him how and a minute or two later he was back on the bed with her, the camera watching them from its lonely post on the dresser. As he moved down, stretching out at her side, she was moved by the dark emotion, the passion and the need in his expression.
“Thank you for sharing this with me, for being so open with me,” he said simply, his fingers stroking the inside of her thigh.
“It was…intense,” she said, propping up on one elbow and meeting his eyes for a moment before she shimmied down and closed her lips over his cock, sucking off the dew there. She moaned in soft approval as he lay back, arching up into her mouth.
She reached over and hit the remote snap without looking.
“I want to taste you, too,” he whispered, and she swung her legs over, straddling him as she explored his sex with her mouth. He broke her concentration, opening her with his hands and prodding her clit more insistently with this tongue.
Gasping, she forgot all about the camera, following the steady current of pleasure that his strokes created, making her crazy with the tricks of his fingers and the talent of his mouth. It became a game between them. He would find a way to drive her one bit further, and then she would go down deeper, suck harder, find a sensitive spot with her tongue, until they were both convulsing with the pleasure of mutual victory.
She pushed back on the pillows, and he followed, sinking down next to her.
She brushed her fingers tenderly over his onyx hair, silently drawing his attention upward to the camera.
Her head rested in the crook of his shoulder, his arms around her, one finding its way up into her hair, holding her head against him in a gesture so intimate she thought she wouldn’t be able to breathe. They lay there, snuggling quietly, replete for the moment.
Spotting the remote on the mattress where she’d dropped it, she reached it without moving, and with a lazy, satisfied smile, she stopped time with a press of her finger, capturing them both.
6
LACEY WALKED BACK to her apartment feeling loose and well exercised—and she was smiling. Considering they hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours combined, she should be worried about her model having rings under his eyes and her ability to stay awake, and…she wasn’t worried about any of it. She could barely keep herself from grinning ear to ear.
She felt like her old self again, and it was wonderful.
Jarod was wonderful, too. Considerate, adventurous…and with stamina women dreamed about. She didn’t know if they’d continue to spend their nights together, but she also wasn’t sure how she’d be able to function if she didn’t have a way to deal with the inevitable turn-on of working with him. Incredibly, after everything they’d done, she wanted more. The very idea of looking at him through a camera made her lick her lips.
And today was beach day. He’d be taking off his shirt, and she couldn’t wait. Fortunately it was minimal crew, wardrobe was simple and the formal part of the day wouldn’t take long. He’d seemed agreeable with the same schedule as before—do the staged shoots, then move around the area taking some candids.
Of course, she thought, placing her hand over the spot in her camera bag where she kept her film, nothing quite as candid as the shots they’d taken last night.
Would she develop them?
She grinned more widely. Life was good. Lacey hummed to herself as she turned up the steps to her apartment, taking the stairs and doing a little jog all the way down the hall. She was running a bit late, and had to—
Stopping in her tracks, she noticed the door was open. Just a crack, but it was open. She tried not to panic as her heart began to hammer and she fumbled reaching for her cell phone.
She suddenly understood why the seemingly stupid heroines always rushed in to the house when they knew there was danger waiting inside—she had to make herself step back, remembering the general advice to call police in such a situation, not rush in.
But underneath the fear was anger. Someone had intruded in her space, in her world. She wanted desperately to burst through the door and answer the question who. To stop it, to know why.
The driving need to know nearly pushed her into the apartment, regardless of the danger that was possibly inside.
Instead, she dialed 911 and waited, reported the break-in, and moved back down to the stairway, never taking her eyes off the door, even though the operator had told her to meet the police at the entry. She was determined to know if someone came out of her place.
Nothing happened. The hall was silent, and she didn’t hear anything coming from the room, either. Her neighbors were mostly professionals like herself and had likely left for work. She was alone.
Doubt wheedled itself into the cracks of her panicked thoughts. Had she forgotten to lock the apartment? Could her super have gone in for some reason and failed to shut the door completely?
Too late for second guesses as she heard the police come through the door downstairs. She looked at them in both relief and worry as they climbed the stairs toward her.
“You reported a break-in, ma’am?” one guy who could have been a candidate for the calendar asked her.
“Yes, I mean, I don’t know, but the door was open, and I’m sure I locked it, but I—”
“You stay right here. You did the right thing by not going in. Let us check it out. I’d recommend you go outside just in case.”
Lacey nodded, although she didn’t actually go anywhere. Her feet seemed to be frozen to the spot as the two officers moved carefully down the hall toward her apartment, standing at each side, covering each other as they nudged the door open, and went in.
Nothing.
Lacey didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she let it go when one of the policemen came out and waved her down the hall toward the apartment.
“You can come in now, ma’am, but I have to warn you, it’s a shock. Someone was here,” he said with a stern expression. She walked past him, wanting to know what on earth he was talking about. Then she stopped cold in her doorway, sucking in a breath, her world tilting a little.
“Oh, my God…”
Everything was a wreck. The entire contents of her apartment had been upended, and whoever it was had written BITCH in huge black letters with spray paint across one wall, where she was sure to see it first thing through the door.
“Lacey, what…what the hell?”
She jumped as she recognized Jarod’s voice beside her and faced off with him. The adrenaline was push
ing through her system so violently she didn’t know where to aim her anger first. He grabbed her by the shoulders, leveling her a look.
“What happened here? Are you okay?”
She wrestled away. Her breath coming harshly, she eyed him warily. “How did you know where I live?”
It was impossible for her to separate all of the conflicting emotions coursing through her at the moment, so she targeted them all in his direction. The cop stepped forward, not quite between her and Jarod, but almost.
“Step back, sir,” he said in warning. Jarod nodded, stepping back, but only slightly.
“I’m just…a concerned friend,” Jarod explained, “You can pull my wallet—and my badge—from my left pocket. I’m a cop, too. Texas Ranger, El Paso.”
The second officer joined them to see what the fuss was about, and Lacey’s mind cleared. She started to tell them that Jarod wasn’t the one she was worried about just as they took his wallet and flipped open his badge.
“Ranger, huh? Well, you aren’t from around here, and the lady doesn’t seem happy to see you, so maybe we should walk you out.”
Jarod looked at her, making her look at him.
“Is that what you want, Lacey? You want me to leave?”
Lacey didn’t know what to think, but casting a glance at her apartment, she shook her head.
“No, I want you to stay. I’m sorry, officers, I…was shocked,” she finished lamely, and the NYPD men watched her carefully for a few moments before finally relenting.
“I’ll call this in and we’ll need a report,” one said, and they all nodded, flanking Lacey as they walked deeper into the apartment. Jarod was closest to her. She welcomed his presence as much as she questioned it. She knew he couldn’t be responsible for this, but how he showed up when he did, and how he found her address…they’d talk about that before this was over.
As she scanned the mess in her apartment, she reached for something to hang on to and Jarod’s firm, warm grip was there. When she turned into his chest, he was there. It gave her the strength she needed to turn back around and face what she had to.
“Have you received any threats lately, Ms. Graham? We would chalk it up to breaking and entering, but this—” the cop’s eyes traveled to the scrawl “—seems pretty directed. Personal. And it doesn’t look like the usual stuff was taken. Your television, even your laptop, is still here.”
“I—I can’t imagine who would do this,” she said, though she didn’t meet their eyes.
She’d call Gena, the secretary from Legal Aid, and find out what was going on, if Scott was where he was supposed to be. But who else would have done something like this? The police were right. There wasn’t anything missing, although several things were broken. The break-in was definitely a message of some sort.
“Or they were searching for something, and it wasn’t here,” Jarod offered reasonably.
“I can’t imagine what,” she responded as the officers took notes.
“You didn’t spend the night here, last night, Ms. Graham. Did anyone know that?”
“No, it was…a last-minute decision.” Her cheeks flamed and she refused to look at Jarod.
“It’s just as well you weren’t here, but did you have anything with you that the intruder might have been looking for?”
She shook her head. “All I had was my camera bag, my film, my lenses…undeveloped shots from the past few days. Nothing anyone would want.”
“Hard to say. What kinds of photos?”
Her cheeks turned hotter as this time she did meet Jarod’s gaze, thinking of their private photo session. “They’re modeling shots for Bliss Magazine. That’s it…”
“Maybe someone was up to something they shouldn’t have been, and you caught it on film,” the other officer speculated, and Lacey blinked. Did things like that happen in real life? Could she have gathered some kind of evidence against someone in the park or in her candids that they’d later come looking for?
“Well, the pictures aren’t developed yet, and I’ll check through them carefully, but how would some stranger know I took the picture, or where I lived?”
Jarod nodded in agreement. “And why the message? Why go to the trouble? They’d want to get in, get the film, and get out—ideally without being seen or noticed.”
“True,” the officer agreed. “Well, then, as nothing was stolen and no other harm was done, I guess that’s all we can do here. But if you have any more trouble, be sure to call us,” he said.
“Thank you, I will.” Lacey closed the door behind them, and turned toward her apartment again, the day shot down the tubes. She’d had to cancel the session, and now she had to deal with this mess.
“So do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Jarod asked calmly, standing in the middle of her living room, looking big and imposing among the disaster, looking at her as if he could see right through her.
“Excuse me?”
“Listen, Lacey, normally I mind my own business, but you’ve been as jumpy as a jackrabbit since I laid eyes on you, and now this? I saw your face when he asked you if you’d had any problems recently. You’re not as good a liar as you think you are. Who’s bothering you? Why would they do this?”
She stepped forward, eyes blazing as her heart thudded in her chest. He was too close, and she pushed back, hard.
“It’s really none of your business! Just because we had sex it’s not an invitation into my life. How did you show up here anyway? You’ve never come to my apartment, you couldn’t possibly know where I lived unless you…” The answer dawned, and she put her hand to the edge of a table near the door to steady herself. “You’ve been following me?”
The sick feeling in the pit of her stomach increased as she saw the truth on his face, and she didn’t bother holding back tears, but they were mostly from anger at herself, for being so stupid as to let her guard down. Thank God she had the pictures, she realized. Regret was a second blow, and she leaned harder on the edge of the table for support.
“Just get out before I call the police back. Forget about the shoot, leave me alone. I mean it.”
For a second, they were both still, and she didn’t know what was going to happen. He didn’t seem angry; he didn’t step forward. When he spoke, she could hardly believe her ears.
“Sorry, darlin’, but that just isn’t happening until you tell me what’s going on.”
JAROD FELT as if he’d already stepped over a line, but there was no way he was going anywhere. Lacey was in trouble, and he wanted to know the source of it. He wanted to help.
He’d do anything for this woman. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he knew. In the same way he knew she was wounded, and frightened of something she was too stubborn to admit.
“Lacey, listen for a moment.”
She started to protest, her eyes wild, arms wrapped so tightly around her slim frame that he had to hold himself back from going to her and holding her himself. But now wasn’t the time for that.
“I did follow you, but not to scare you. I… Oh, hell,” he cursed, throwing his hands up. “I like you. I really like you, but there’s been something going on here. I can see the fear on your face, the way you react to things like a sudden movement or someone crowding your space. It’s as if you’re poised to run. People don’t normally react that way unless they’ve been given a reason to.”
She looked away, and he knew he’d hit on the truth. But could he convince her to share? To trust?
“Then there was that phone call, and now this. I’m not stupid, Lacey. I knew something spooked you the other day, and so I simply followed you back to your apartment so I could make sure you got there safely. That’s all. Then today, I saw the cops arrive, and I lost it. I had to make sure you were okay.
“Lacey, I hope you know I’d never hurt you—not a hair on your head. Not after what we shared, and I, well…” He blew out an exasperated breath, unfamiliar and uneasy with sharing his thoughts this way. “I hope you wouldn’t have slept with me in
the first place if you thought you couldn’t trust me. I’m sorry if following you scared you. That’s the last thing I would ever do.”
She didn’t say anything, but he could see her processing the information. He took a step closer, then another, until he was standing beside her, and lifted his hand to brush some of the hair from her eyes. Hell, the worst she could do was hit him and tell him to leave again, but the fight seemed to have gone out of her.
He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
“Lacey—” he started, but she didn’t say anything; pressed her fingers to his lips, silencing him.
“I believe you, Jarod, and I guess I have been jumpy. I just never expected anything like this,” she whispered, looking around at the apartment.
He closed his eyes, relieved about her accepting his apology.
“I know, and I’ll help you clean up. I’d like it if you’d stay with me again tonight, at my hotel.” He said the words on a smoky note as her form pressed against his. Protectiveness wasn’t the only thing he was feeling for this woman.
“No, I won’t be driven out of my own apartment. They probably won’t even come back.”
“They?”
She shook her head. “Generic pronoun. I don’t know who it is, I really don’t. I did get a weird call, and sometimes I have the feeling someone is watching me, but I thought that was my imagination.”
“This isn’t imaginary.”
“I know. Jarod, I have to make another phone call. Privately,” she said, and he nodded. She still wasn’t telling him what was going on, but this wasn’t a time to push.
“Sure, I’ll go check out your kitchen and start setting things to rights.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she protested.
“I want to. I want to be here, with you, Lacey. Okay?”
She almost smiled, and seemed to relax slightly, and Jarod did, too. He walked through louvered French doors to the kitchen and was tempted to hang close, but he said he’d give her privacy, and he did.
