Beauty in Lingerie

by Penelope Sky

  “Yeah. Marco said I’m still not ready to ride…I’m not sure if I’ll ever be.”

  I told him she wasn’t allowed because it was too dangerous. So he made up excuses for me. “Why do you want to ride so much?”

  “Why?” she asked incredulously. “Lots of people love to ride horses. It’s a great hobby.”

  “It’s a lot of work and can be dangerous.”

  “But if you’re always careful, it should be fine.”

  There was no point in arguing with her. She was stubborn—just like me.

  We drove into Milan and arrived at the building I owned. It had once been a historical landmark, and I bought it before they had the chance to tear it down. I never did any reconstruction to the outside because I loved the architecture, but the inside had been redone to fit my needs.

  Muse and I walked inside.

  The models were located on the second floor, where they had a private gym, their wardrobe, and workout classes. It also held the changing room and the studio where photos were taken.

  We took the stairs and spotted a few girls dressed in the lingerie I’d released for the show a few weeks ago.

  “Conway.” Veronica had one hand on her hip and walked up to me with her heels clapping against the hardwood floor. The teal fabric looked great on her dark skin. Her belly button was pierced, a bright jewel shining. “Long time, no see.” She leaned into me, grabbed me by the bicep, and pressed a kiss to my cheek.

  “Veronica, you look beautiful.” I kissed her on the cheek in reciprocation.

  Juliet came up to me and did the same, a blonde in black lingerie. “Everyone is loving your designs. Are you working on your next release?”

  “Actually, yes. I’m sure you’ll be impressed.” I turned to the stairs to move to the third floor.

  Muse faltered for a moment before she followed me.

  The girls were warm to me, but they gave her looks of pure loathing.

  I knew exactly how women were, so I kept walking up the stairs. Nicole told me about all the fights that she broke up between the models, the envy the women had for each other. They usually didn’t turn physical, but they still played dirty. They would cut off large chunks of hair when a girl’s back was turned, or they would sprinkle bulk powder in their smoothies to make them gain weight.

  I had more important things to do, so I ignored it.

  Muse trailed behind me then reached my side once we were on the third floor. She was quiet, brooding, and hostile, and her disappointment was heavy in the air around me.

  I ignored it and stepped inside the studio. Everything had been organized by Nicole, who was the only person allowed to touch my things. She was the only person who knew exactly how I liked to keep my materials. She made sure nothing was lost or misplaced.

  I flicked on the lights and peeled off my jacket. The sun filtering through the windows was hot that morning, and the collared shirt and tie were already warm enough. Nicole had imported the fabric samples I asked for, and they were spread out across my work table. I felt each one with my fingertips.

  Muse stood with her arms over her chest, her frown deep.

  I continued to ignore it. “It’ll be difficult for me to top my last line of lingerie, so I’m not going to chase that success again. I’m going in a different direction.”

  She stayed on the other side of the table, her silence louder than words.

  “Watching you in the stables gave me some ideas.” I opened my notebook and glanced at the sketches.

  Muse remained as hostile as ever.

  “Remove your clothes.” I kept my eyes on the paper, and when I didn’t hear any movement, I looked up to meet her gaze.

  She wore a fiery expression. “Excuse me?”

  The second I stepped into my office, I’d reverted back to my old ways. It was a habit that would be difficult to break. “Please.”

  She remained rigid, defiant even though I’d corrected myself.

  I knew what this was really about. “I said I don’t sleep with my models. No reason to be jealous.”

  “I’m not jealous.”

  “Really?” I challenged. “Because you’ve been in a pissed mood ever since we ran into Veronica and Juliet.”

  “I just don’t see why you need to kiss everyone all the time.”

  “Don’t insult my culture.”

  “Your culture?” she snapped. “So if I kissed every handsome man I saw, you’d be perfectly okay with that?”

  When Carter tried to take a picture of her ass, I nearly knocked him out. I didn’t like anyone looking at my muse, and if anyone touched her, I’d bury them six feet under. If her full lips ever touched another man’s skin, I’d explode. “It’s different.”

  “Different because it’s sexist.”

  “I’m not sexist.” I never judged a woman for taking off her clothes. I never thought less of a woman for having several partners. I didn’t think they were less intelligent just because they used their bodies to make their rent. As the son of a strong woman and a respectful man, I was raised in accordance with their values.

  “Seems that way.”

  I gripped the edge of the wood as I stared at her across the table. “I understand we’re trying to have an equal relationship, but let’s not forget the foundation of this arrangement. I own you—end of story.”

  “It’s not the end of the story, Conway.”

  “I kiss my models because it’s part of my image. They look to me for guidance. They look to me for protection. I take care of my girls. If a man disrespects them in my presence, one of my men breaks their spine. Since I don’t sleep with them, there’s nothing for you to be upset about.”

  “But they all want to sleep with you.”

  They made moves on me all the time, but I wouldn’t get into that. “Doesn’t matter what they want.” I turned back to my sketches. “Now, let’s get to work.”

  She still didn’t move.

  My eyes flicked back up to her. “I’ve asked you politely twice now. I won’t do it again, Muse.”

  She finally dropped her arms to her sides and removed her clothing. She stripped down to her thong and bra, standing in the room like she was ready for the runway. She used to be so uncomfortable standing in there with me. But now, it was like being at home.

  I stood in front of her and examined her, thinking of the distance between different parts of her body. My hands started at her shoulders, and I pressed into her, touching her frame intimately. I knew her body so well because I’d tasted it, worshiped it. But I wanted to feel it more, feel her perfect measurements before I began. “Your complexion…is so stunning.” My thumb rubbed against her shoulder. “The color is beautiful. There’s no color fabric that won’t complement it. It’s not too dark or too light.”

  She stared at me, her features slack. “Thanks…I guess.”

  I grabbed her chin and directed her to look up, straining the muscles in her neck. “I have an idea. Stay there.” I grabbed a few pieces of black fabric and held them against her skin. I switched them out, looking for the perfect color and texture to showcase exactly what I wanted. When it came to the perfect model, I needed the perfect design. Anything less than flawless simply wasn’t good enough.

  Once I found the exact dark fabric that would complement her skin the best, I rolled the fabric to the table and started to work.

  She continued to stand there. “Can I put my clothes back on?”

  “There’s a robe on the hanger over there,” I said without looking up from what I was doing.

  She didn’t put it on, and I knew exactly why.

  “I designed that robe for you. No one else has worn it.”

  Her footsteps echoed on the floor as she retrieved it. She wrapped it around her body and tied the sash across her stomach. She came over to me next, the smell of her shampoo entering my nose once she was close enough. “Can I help?”

  “No.” I did everything alone. The only person who helped me was Nicole. She did all the bookk
eeping and the ordering. Everything else was my responsibility.

  She sighed beside me. “You paid a lot for me. May as well get the most use out of me…”

  “I bought you so I could fuck you.” I looked up and stared into her eyes. “Do you want me to fuck you, Muse?” I was immersed in my work, but I’d always make an exception for this woman.

  She held my gaze, no longer intimidated by my stare. “Maybe later.” She grabbed my sketchbook and pulled the drawing closer to her. She examined it, turning it slightly sideways to take it in at a different angle. She examined the lines of fabric over the shoulders and the stomach. It was a one-piece design, but it was composed of thin straps everywhere, making it a complicated piece, but very beautiful. “Wow…I really like this. How did you come up with it?”

  “You.”

  “But how?” she asked. “Was it something I wore? Something I did? I don’t wear anything like this in the stables.”

  “No.” I turned the page back toward me. “But the lines represent ropes. I’ve seen you down there a few times, pulling the horses or organizing the reins. And seeing you hold the ropes made me think about what I would do to you with the ropes.” I pictured her wrists bound together behind her back as she rode me. Powerless to do anything, she would be mine to enjoy. I’d be the cowboy, and she’d be the bronco. I turned my eyes to hers, unashamed by what I said. “It’ll be in black and brown, resembling the color and texture of rope. Every man wants to tie up a woman. Now the woman can tie herself up…” I turned back to my work and organized the fabric before I cut it.

  She remained beside me, her fingertips resting on the paper. “Do you think about tying me up?”

  I cut the first sheet of fabric. “Yes.”

  “But you haven’t.”

  “I figured we would take things slow…since you’re new to all of this.” I’d never considered myself to be a patient man, but when it came to Muse, my entire agenda was based on her timetable.

  She took the line of fabric and held it in her fingertips. “What’s this go to?”

  “The first strap.”

  “I’d like to help, Conway. I may have no experience with clothes, but I’m a fast learner.”

  The more time I spent with her, the more I understood her personality. She liked to be active, to do things constantly rather than sit around all day. My father was the exact same way, and she reminded me of him. She reminded me of my mother too. But with my mom, she’d always been a full-time parent to us. That was her job as well as her hobby. “Alright. Here’s the measurement.” I pushed the measurement table toward her. “Cut it to this precise size.”

  “Okay.”

  I turned back to what I was doing, and every time I finished one part, I handed it off to her for the next step. I was surprised she did it correctly, and I realized it cut my time in half. It was like having a second pair of hands. The idea of my fantasy making her own lingerie was arousing as well.

  Once we had all the pieces together, we were ready for the next part.

  “How do you put it together?”

  “Stitching.”

  We used my mannequin to pull everything together. She held the pieces in place as I worked, while still wearing the soft robe. It was black and white, a simple pattern that didn’t distract from her beauty.

  My eyes were focused on my fingertips, watching every move I made. My fingertips were callused from years of doing this. Even if I pricked myself, I didn’t bleed anymore.

  Muse held the pieces together as I worked, standing directly beside me. “I like the way your face looks when you’re working.”

  I didn’t let her words interrupt me. “And how does my face look?”

  “Serious. Focused. Hard.”

  I pulled the thread through the fabric and kept working.

  “It’s the same expression you wear in bed…with a few slight changes. I’d always wondered if that was the expression you wore when you were with a woman.”

  My hands halted once her words sank into my skin. “I used to imagine the face you made when you came. I would beat off to it in the shower. But now I know what your expression looks like…because you’re the woman I take to bed every night.” I started to move my hands again, and I finished the breast piece as well as the first strap.

  Her cheeks were full of color.

  I moved to the next strap, and she secured it in place.

  “Why won’t you let me sleep with you?”

  My needle pierced through at the corner and then moved quickly. “I prefer to sleep alone.”

  “Even if you’re with someone else?”

  “All of my relationships are handled like business transactions. I get what I want, and then it’s over. No reason for it to roll over into a new day.”

  “And they’re just fine with that?”

  “They’re grateful to have any part of me at all.”

  She scoffed under her breath.

  I stopped what I was doing and looked at her.

  The corner of her mouth was raised in a smile. “Sorry…that’s just the most arrogant thing I’ve heard you say.”

  I ignored her insult and returned to concentrating. “I’m sure I’ll top it.”

  “What if I wanted to sleep with you? You know, instead of being kicked out.”

  “I didn’t kick you out.”

  “You kicked me out nicely,” she said. “Even though I was pretty much asleep.”

  “I don’t like to sleep with people. I like having the bed all to myself. I like not listening to someone breathe beside me. I like to be alone. It’s just how I am.”

  “Sounds lonely…”

  “Not at all.” I tightened the thread and secured the pieces together.

  “And you wouldn’t make an exception for me?”

  “I already did,” I reminded her.

  “But again?”

  “No. Probably not.” The upper left side of the lingerie was complete. Now I needed to work on the right side.

  “Does that mean you don’t want to have a family someday?”

  This time, I pinned the pieces against the mannequin so I wouldn’t need her assistance anymore. “Why are you interrogating me?”

  “I’m not. Just asking you a few questions.”

  “It feels like an interrogation.”

  “An interrogation is when someone forces you to answer questions you don’t want to.”

  “Exactly.” I pulled her hand away from the mannequin. “I can take it from here. Go sit down.”

  She stepped back, the hurt written on her face. “Is it that horrible that I want to know the man I’m sleeping with? I’m the closest person to you in the world. I’m your confidant, your inspiration. And I’d like to be your friend. Let me be your friend, Conway.”

  She continued to pull me into situations I didn’t want to be in. She forced me to give up parts of myself I never thought I’d share with anyone else. And when I resisted, she somehow made me feel guilty for it. Not once in my life had I bent over backward for someone like this. She was the only woman who had this invisible power over me.

  “If you don’t want me to be your friend, then fine. But I need you to be mine. I’m in a different country, and I’m isolated from everyone I’ve ever known. I need someone to talk to. I need more than just sex…I need friendship.”

  “I don’t have friends.” I grabbed another spool of thread.

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “Have you seen me with anyone?” I challenged.

  “I’ve heard you mention your cousin Carter a few times. And you have your family and Nicole. You have people to talk to. I only have Marco…and he doesn’t really count.”

  My hands got back to work on the mannequin. I listened to everything she said, but I tried to tune it out. But when she had a beautiful voice like that, it was impossible for me to ignore her. When she was honest and vulnerable with me, I couldn’t tune her out.

  If I were going to keep her for a lifetime, I’d hav
e to make some changes. There would never be a time when she wouldn’t be around, unless I went on a business trip. So it made sense to make our relationship as positive as possible. “I’m not sure how I feel about having a family.”

  She was quiet for a while after I finally answered her. She sat on the stool at the table and crossed her legs, her curled hair trailing down one shoulder. “You don’t want kids?”

  “Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don’t.”

  “What are your two arguments?”

  I kept working while carrying on the conversation at the same time. “I had a great childhood. My parents are good people. They worked hard to raise us and maintain a close relationship with us. I like being a part of something. That’s something I’d like to continue on to the next generation. But having kids is a lot of work. I’m very busy with my career, and I’m not sure if I have the time or energy to raise a family. Besides, I would need a wife. I’m not interested in having one of those right now.”

  “Why can’t you have a family anyway?” she asked.

  “I definitely need a partner,” I said. “The mother of my children would stay home and raise them so I could continue my work.”

  “A nanny.”

  “No,” I said. “I don’t want to pay someone to raise my kids. Defeats the purpose.”

  “Then why don’t you go the wife route?”

  I’d already explained that to her. “I can’t care about someone. It’ll interfere with my work.”

  “Really?” she asked. “Based on your designs, something must have inspired you…”

  I tightened the thread and looked at her face, knowing exactly what she was talking about. I may have compromised with her in order to make our situation work, but that didn’t mean anything. “Now look who’s arrogant.”

  “I’m just saying…feeling something isn’t the worst thing in the world.”

  “What I felt last night was passion and good sex. Nothing else.” I wouldn’t let her think there was more to it than that. And judging by the coldness she showed me, her attraction to me was purely physical as well.

  “Good sex?” she asked with a smile. “I’m glad you enjoyed it too.”

  It was obvious I enjoyed it. “Just to be honest with you, you’ll probably never have children.” I shifted my eyes back to my hands.