Playboy

by Logan Chance

  The door opens and all heads turn. An intern by the name of Brandon steps inside. He shakes his head. “Got the manager to open his hotel room, and he’s not in there.”

  My gaze meets Chelsea’s, and I shrug. The disappointment in her eyes isn’t lost on me. We all know this is huge. If we have to cancel the shoot, we won’t be asked to reschedule.

  The proverbial light bulb goes off over Chelsea’s head. “Glenda,” she says in a quiet voice. “I don’t know if this is doable, but,” she hesitates, “Jonah could fill in.”

  “Uh, no. I can’t.” I shake my head.

  “Yes, you can. Take off your shirt,” Chelsea prompts, stepping closer to me.

  “I’m not taking off my shirt.” I swat her hand away when she tries to lift the side of my tee.

  “Go on, take it off, Jonah,” Glenda demands.

  “Are you kidding? Who would take the pictures?” This idea is the dumbest one I’ve ever heard.

  “You,” Glenda snaps her fingers, then points at Randall, “what’s your name? You’re his assistant? You take pictures, right?”

  Randall turns beet red and lets out a little, nervous laugh. “Yeah,” he pipes out.

  “Jonah, shirt off. Randall, can you handle taking pictures?”

  This is insane. My eyes meet Chelsea’s hopeful ones. I shake my head, and she steeples her hands together in a little plea. “Please? This can work,” she whispers to me.

  Sometimes you just have to say fuck it. I yank my shirt over my head.

  Glenda sizes me up. Actually, everyone in the room stares. And I’ve never felt more mortified.

  “Nice body. You’ll do.” Glenda barks out orders, and three ladies approach me, spraying something on my chest and rubbing it in.

  I can’t believe this fucking shit.

  I step over to Randall. “Listen, man. You got this. Just remember everything I’ve ever taught you.” I pass my camera to him, and his eyes are bigger than anything I’ve ever seen.

  “Yeah, yeah. I got it.”

  “Like I need you to grow a set of balls and take charge. Got it?” I ask.

  He nods, again and again, as he takes the camera from my hands. “Got it. Balls. Yes. I have them.”

  Glenda gives me a pep talk, Chelsea too. Even Randall offers some terrifying words of wisdom…’don’t get hard, dude.’ None of the little chats work. I don’t know what I’m fucking doing.

  “Am I wearing jeans?” I ask to anyone who’s listening.

  “Yes,” Glenda answers back. She grabs me by the arm, leading me toward the bed. “You and Chelsea will start out near the bed. Then, if the client wants it, you might get under the covers and do some light holding and such. Remember, be sexy.”

  I nod. “Right.”

  Sounds easy. Not really sure what being sexy is. I mean, sure I’ve got a certain je ne sais quoi. But, I don’t know how to harness it and make it available for picture taking. Or if it’s even harnessable—it’s just that powerful. I kid. I’m nervous as hell.

  Just as I’m about to ask how to be sexy on film, the door opens and a few men wearing business suits that probably cost more than my Jeep, step inside.

  The room fills up quick. It’s stuffy, and I can’t breathe.

  This is all surreal.

  Chelsea fluffs her hair and steps closer. “You look great. Ready?”

  “Uh, no. Not really sure what I’m doing.”

  “You’ve taken pictures for how long? You know where and how you want your models to look. Where you want them to stand to get the best possible light. You do know what you’re doing. But instead of being behind the lens, well, now you’re out here…with me.”

  Her words sink in. “You’re right.” I do know what I’m doing. I know what makes a great picture.

  Now, instead of trying to get my vision clear through the models, I can just do it.

  She smiles. Fuck, Declan would murder me in my sleep if he caught wind of any of this.

  After the introductions are over, Glenda gets everyone into position.

  And here we go.

  Randall snaps a few practice shots and nods to me. It’s showtime.

  I wrap an arm around Chelsea’s waist, pulling her in. This is awkward.

  “Wait, stop,” Glenda says, coming over to us. “Jonah, you’re very stiff. Loosen up.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “Pretend no one’s here,” Chelsea says. “This is the art of acting. Pretend you’re in love.”

  I close my eyes for a moment. After opening them, I say, “I’m ready.”

  I relax all my muscles and grab Chelsea around her tiny waist again. I pull her close. Too close. Randall snaps the shot.

  She looks up at me. Her eyes really are unique. They aren’t just blue, that’s too ordinary. No, they’re the color of the summer sky, with a soft sunshine band of yellow wrapping around her pupil.

  I study them and move in closer to her lips.

  And then, the room fades away.

  I no longer hear the cues coming from Randall…I’m on autopilot.

  I trace her jaw, skimming the soft skin with my thumb. My body heats, and I couldn’t cool it off if I tried.

  I’m too in the moment with her. Exploring while I have the chance.

  I run my fingers through her long locks. Rub the soft skin along her collarbone. She moans.

  The sound is an aphrodisiac, and I step her closer to the bed. I want to kiss her. But, I don’t. Our lips hover inches apart, and my heartrate races double-time.

  “Break,” Glenda says.

  “Break already?” Dazed, I step back from Chelsea and roll the tension away from my shoulders.

  “We’ve been at this for an hour,” Glenda points out.

  It didn’t feel that long.

  “Everyone take fifteen,” Tim says, and I head over to my water bottle and down almost the entire thing.

  “How do they look?” I ask Randall, stepping over to him.

  “You two had insane chemistry. I think they came out killer.” He pulls up the images on the laptop, and he’s right.

  I lean closer. “Great pics, Randy.” I ruffle his hair, like a father does to their son.

  When we’re ready to begin again, Glenda informs us that we will indeed be getting under the covers, and I’m not sure if my cock can handle it.

  “You can stay in your jeans, Jonah, since you’ll be under the covers.” She smiles. “Chelsea we want you on top, like you’re riding him.”

  Oh, fuck me.

  16

  Chelsea

  Giddy up. One thing I learned to do in Texas was ride a mechanical bull. Something tells me I’ll stay on Jonah a lot longer. He climbs into the bed, lying his head slightly up on the pillows, and drapes the white sheet across his lower body.

  I step to the edge of the bed. “I’m just going to climb on top of you now,” I tell him.

  He nods and I carefully straddle him, placing my hands on his ripped chest.

  I’ve never been so nervous in my life. I’m about to simulate having sex with Jonah. The worst part? I’m wet. Being in contact with him like this is doing all kinds of things to me. No matter how I position myself, my pussy rests on his groin, and I can feel the outline of his dick. It’s impressive. He rests his hands on my hips, and Randall snaps away.

  “Chelsea, lean your head back toward the ceiling, letting your hair fall down your back,” Randall says.

  I do as told, and Jonah’s hands give my hips a little swivel. He’s hard.

  And I try my damndest not to appear too aroused. It’s not easy.

  I can’t stop myself from shifting a tiny inch and grinding along his cock. They did tell me to ride him, after all.

  He lets out an imperceptible hiss before sitting up. I press down harder as his hand skates up my side and glides over the top of my breast. His mouth is so close to my nipple. So close. I forget there are people in the room. It’s only Jonah and me. My fingers work their way into his hair and give a little tug.
Every part of me wants him right now. Every inch.

  He rocks up into me and soon we’re both caught up in the moment. Touching and grabbing. Pulling and teasing. What if I come? That’s how good this feels.

  We’re so caught up in each other. It’s crazy how turned on I am. Crazy I want him this bad. But, I do.

  After a few minutes, Glenda cuts in, “Ok, that’s enough. Thanks everyone.”

  What? No. I need a few more minutes.

  “Fuck,” Jonah murmurs. “I just need a moment to calm the beast.”

  I hop off, and try to pull myself together.

  Everyone wanders the room, shuffling in and out, oblivious to the fact I was on the verge of an orgasm. Jonah finally brushes the covers off and stands.

  Randall rushes over. “You were great. I think you’ll really be happy with some of the shots I got.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure,” Jonah says. “Let’s see.”

  I follow him and Jonah to the monitor and check out the images.

  Our moment in time captured by the lens. Picture after picture of us together.

  It’s plain as day the lust in my eyes. But, he has it too.

  Glenda brings the suits over to the monitor, and I step out of the way for them to go over the shots. While I pull on a robe, Jonah grabs his shirt and it’s goodbye abs.

  “I’ll only have to touch up a few spots in photoshop, but all in all everything turned out great. What do you think?” Jonah asks the man who appears to be in charge.

  “I don’t get it. You’re the model, but you’ll be doing the touch-ups?” he questions, adjusting his tie.

  “Yes, I’m Jonah Marshall, and this is, Randall, my assistant.” Jonah shakes the man’s hand. “I’m originally the photographer. I stepped in for the male model who didn’t show.”

  Understanding dawns in his eyes. “Ah, I see. Well, you are a man of many talents, Jonah.”

  “You have no idea, Mr…”

  “Peterson. Nice to meet you. Tonight, dinner and entertainment is on me. Fancy seeing a show while you’re here?”

  “Sure, that would be great.”

  “And you,” Mr. Peterson says to me, “very sexy. Great pictures. You’re exactly what we were looking for.”

  “Thank you,” I blush.

  Glenda joins us and inspects the pictures. “These are great.”

  “I’m very pleased with your team, Miss Harolds.” He smiles at Glenda. “I’ll leave tickets to some shows at the front desk for your crew to have a little fun while they’re in town.”

  She walks him out and as the crew packs up, I change into jeans and a white peasant top and head to my room.

  “Are you seeing a show?” Jonah jogs behind me, catching up.

  I shrug. “Maybe.”

  “I think we should celebrate,” he says, smiling.

  This is the moment I should have walked away. A tiny warning bell dings. Like a high-pitched bell sounding off, telling me to steer clear.

  But, instead, I say, “I absolutely think we should celebrate.”

  We decide to meet in half an hour in the hotel lobby. It’s barely afternoon, but that doesn’t matter in Vegas.

  It’s a place where time stands still. Or speeds up. It doesn’t matter because, action happens at all hours of the day.

  When I exit the elevator, our eyes meet. Jonah’s browns dazzle, doing something to my chest. Like a little flippity-flop.

  I ignore it and smile.

  Leaning against a pillar in the lobby, he takes in my red dress. It reminds me of the white dress Marilyn Monroe wore in the shoot where she stands over the subway grate, and it shoots air up her dress. I feel like he just removed my dress with his eyes, the way he’s looking at me. He looks devilish. Black Polo, gripping his muscles nicely, hair tousled and wild.

  He licks his lips as I step closer. “Hey,” he says in a sexy drawl. “Ready to party?”

  “Always.” I loop my arm through his.

  We both squint against the harsh sun the moment we step outdoors. Vegas is hot, as always. A year round oasis of heat and dust. But, I don’t care. It’s a paradise where anything can happen.

  I laugh, spinning around to face him. “Where do you want to go first?”

  He glances up. “There’s a rollercoaster up there.” He points toward the Stratosphere.

  I gasp a little. “Are you kidding?”

  “Nope, it dangles off the edge.”

  This is going to be a big problem. “I have a confession to make.”

  “Shoot.”

  “I’ve never been on a rollercoaster.”

  Now it’s his turn to gasp. Only in a manly-type growl way. “What? How is that even possible?”

  I shrug. “I’m not even really sure. When we were little my parents took us to Disneyland, but I was too scared.”

  He grabs my hand, leading me down the sidewalk. “This needs to be remedied before we drink anymore.”

  I laugh. “Are you planning on drinking more?”

  “Yeah. A lot. And I bet you won’t be able to keep up,” he says, stepping around a group of younger guys with maps in their hands.

  “Oh, well, I just may shock you, Jonah.” I gaze up at him. “I’m not the sweet innocent little sister of Declan’s you may remember me as.”

  He stops, and tugs me closer. “That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t remember you at all,” he says, laughing.

  I slap his arm as we pass the Treasure Island pirate boat show. “That’s mean,” I say. He’d better be joking with me.

  17

  Jonah

  It’s a big fat lie. Not the boat show, I mean, sure that’s a lie too, they’re not real pirates. But, I mean, not remembering her.

  I did.

  She was so pretty at sixteen years old. Being nineteen at the time, I had to mentally stop myself from staring at her when I would go over to Declan’s.

  Then she moved away, and I moved on.

  “You know I’m kidding.” I squeeze her hand. “How could I not remember the brat you used to be?”

  “I was not a brat.”

  We continue our trek toward the Stratosphere, heading through the glass door.

  Chelsea stops. “Another confession.”

  “Shoot.”

  “I’m a teeny bit afraid.” She cringes.

  I can’t keep my damn hands off her as I pull her close. “Fear is not real. The only place fear can exist is in the fear of the future. Fear is a choice.”

  “Ah, Will Smith is wise.” She smiles.

  “Wow, you’re good. You know that movie too?”

  “Of course. But, doesn’t mean I’m still not afraid.”

  I laugh “It’ll be fine. I’ll be with you the entire time.”

  “Don’t leave me. You said you wouldn’t leave me.” She gazes at me expectantly.

  “I think you got me. Is that a movie quote?”

  She winks. “Fifty Shades Of Grey.”

  “I’ve never seen that garbage,” I say, raising a brow.

  “Garbage? Watch your language. Shh, people may hear you.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, ok.”

  “I’m serious. That’s blasphemy.”

  I laugh as we step inside the elevator to head to the top floor.

  Ever heard of the Stratosphere? Tallest building west of the Mississippi, or east of Seattle, or something like that. It’s a really tall fucking building, and on the rooftop, is a roller coaster. It’s probably one of the coolest things around.

  We buy our tickets and head up.

  “Get ready for the ride of your life,” the conductor says.

  “I can think of a better ride,” I whisper in Chelsea’s ear.

  “I’m sure you can.” She smiles, her eyes zoning in on my lips.

  I take her hand and lead her to the line. I’ve become so grabby in the short time we’ve been hanging out today. I don’t know if I still have some residual feelings left over from the photo shoot earlier, but my whole body pulls toward her. It’s like a
magnet I need to flip over so the sides resist each other.

  We get closer to the front of the line, and I’m ready to get on this thing. I can’t believe she’s never been on a rollercoaster. A sense of pride washes over when I think about how I’ll be her first.

  Wish I could be her first at a lot of things.

  I shake my head, erasing the last few seconds of thoughts.

  We’re a hundred stories up, and there’s four thrill rides up here. We ride every single one. Even the roller coaster that hangs off the side. Everything. Chelsea loves every minute. But the real thrill for me is knowing Chelsea spits out curse words as fast as the rollercoaster can loop and fly along the tracks. Cocksucker, Motherfucker, Fucking Fuckity Fuck. The entire ride. It’s fucking awesome. She hates it and she loves it.

  She’s a screamer. And I’ll be damned if now I don’t want to hear how she screams when I make her come.

  “I can’t believe I’ve done all that.” She beams when we head back down.

  “I can’t believe you did either.”

  She smiles. “Were you scared?”

  In the elevator, I lean against the bronzed bar. “Never.” I raise a brow.

  “You’re not afraid of anything, are you?” she asks in the lowest, sultry voice I’ve ever heard.

  “Not really,” I say with confidence. “Just maybe one thing”

  She steps closer. “What’s that?”

  Our lips hover inches apart. “You.”

  And she kisses me. But, I’m not afraid at all.

  All the dirty thoughts in the world enter my brain all at once. Her on her knees. Her riding me. Me kissing her between her thighs.

  The elevator dings, and the doors swoosh open. Fuck.

  We exit and still holding her hand, I yank her, pulling her flush against my body. And then I crush my lips to hers again.

  I nibble the corner of her mouth, thrusting my tongue deep inside. Our hands roam, grappling and gripping. My cock begs for mercy, wanting to feel her.

  Fuck, I need this woman.

  We enter a little nook of a hallway in the Stratosphere, and I brush a finger down her cheek. Her eyes sink into mine.

  Not a soul around for ages. We could do whatever we want.

  She whispers, “Have you ever heard the saying?”

  “What saying?” I push her up against the wall, kissing along her sweet skin.

  “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”