by Tina Donahue
“Getting up. I can’t sit on your lap.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
She frowned at his arm around her waist keeping her imprisoned against him. “You know why.”
Her face had flushed with so much color her freckles were only a memory. Dammit, Mac wanted them back. They were cute. So were the traces of cinnamon and sugar on her lips. Pulling her into him, he licked her mouth clean then kissed her gently.
She stopped struggling, desire making her soft and caressable.
Mac’s brain turned to mush with her body’s heat and scent. She smelled of him now and of sex. Rubbing his nose against her cheek, he whispered, “You’re so beautiful.”
She made a dismissive sound laced with embarrassment.
Aw, Jodi.
Mac wondered who’d told her she wasn’t enough for this shitty, stupid world. Certainly not her parents. From the little Jodi had told him about them, they sounded like fine people. He guessed the kids in school had used Jodi as their punching bag, belittling her so they’d feel better about themselves.
“You want to look like Krista?” he asked. “Or maybe Nadine, Samantha, Willow?” He kept naming off his models until Jodi rested her fingers against his mouth.
Her eyes were shiny. She spoke haltingly. “I know what you’re trying to do and believe me, I appreciate it. But I also know how I look, Mac. I’ve lived with this face and body all my life.”
He pulled her hand away. “That may be, but you haven’t really seen it.”
Jodi’s shoulders trembled with sad laughter. “You got that right. I avoid mirrors at all cost.” She sobered. “Cameras too.”
He frowned. “You have amazing coloring. Your skin’s fucking flawless.”
“Except for my stupid freckles.”
“They’re cute, dammit. Your bod’s…” Fuck, he couldn’t find adequate words to convey how lovely she was. Mac tightened his arm around her waist and cupped her breast. The globe was so exquisitely soft and warm, he groaned in delight and said what he’d been thinking since he’d first met her. “Shit, you’re built like Jane Russell.”
Jodi’s face went blank. “Who?”
Leaning up, Mac reached around her and keyed Jane’s name into Google. Countless movie stills from the forties came up. He gestured to his screen.
Jodi studied the images of a pouting Jane reclined on a pile of hay, her hair tousled, shoulders bared, lower lip thrust out.
“You can’t tell me she doesn’t scream sex,” Max said. “Hell, do you think Howard Hughes chose her for his film because she was skinny? By the way, Howard Hughes is—“
“I know who he is,” Jodi interrupted. She pointed at the screen. “I don’t look anything like that.”
“Of course you don’t,” Mac shot back. “Your coloring has hers beat by a mile.”
Sighing, Jodi sagged against him. “This is really sweet but—“
“Sweet my ass. Let me show you something.” Leaning into her again, Mac worked his keyboard and pulled up some shots he’d taken a few weeks back. For these, he’d used studio lighting much as the old Hollywood pros had in their dramatic glamour pics.
Jodi squinted at the screen and made a face. “Wow, that model looks really bad but kind of familiar. Who is that?”
“Krista.”
“What?” Jodi leaned closer to the screen then shook her head. “No way. The nose is wrong. This woman has uneven nostrils not to mention a double chin. Her right boob’s bigger than her left. Her thighs are dimpled.”
“No kidding,” Mac said. “Watch.” Using Photoshop to enhance the image, he transformed the shot from horrible to amazing.
Jodi gasped. “I don’t believe it.”
“Of course you don’t. In this business—hell, in life—image is everything. Reality means shit. Remember when we were at Dilli’s and I told you no one’s perfect? Trust me I know. Krista isn’t. To start with, she’s had a nose job. In my opinion the surgeon fucked up her nostrils big-time. I have to keep fixing the damn things in my shots. She’s also had her boobs enhanced but obviously not matched to each other and maybe liposuction on her ass since it isn’t dimpled like her thighs. If Krista doesn’t hold her head just right, like she’s looking down her nose at you, she gets this nasty double chin.
“Nadine and all the other models are the same,” he added. “They have tabs running with the best plastic surgeons. Some have had their hairlines raised, ears pinned back, cheek implants, veneers, you name it. When they’re moving around and talking, they may look perfect but it’s just an illusion because your mind’s taking in so many things at once. However, freeze their image in a photo and all bets are off. If the lighting isn’t perfect, it magnifies their flaws.”
“But your shots yesterday with Krista and Rocco were gorgeous. She looked great.”
“I struggled like hell to get the lighting right.” Mac hugged Jodi to him. “I knew you were watching me.”
Her mouth trembled as though she were fighting a smile or tears.
Mac traced her lips with his fingers. Jodi giggled softly.
Liking that, he murmured, “Let me shoot you, please. I swear you’ll love what I come up with.”
* * * * *
Jodi hoped she wouldn’t regret this.
Seated on a stool in front of a backdrop of white paper, she felt incredibly nude and as big as a whale despite what Mac had said. Krista and the other models might not be perfect but they’d had the advantage of plastic surgery to correct their flaws. Hell, Jodi couldn’t even afford disposable contacts.
Without her glasses she had to guess what he was doing with his equipment, until he turned the lights in her direction. She squinted at the intense brightness. After a few minutes, he modified the glare, making it less uncomfortable. A cool blast of air hit her next. He’d turned on the fan.
Quickly, Mac shut the thing off and padded to her.
With his hands on her thighs, he spread them so he had a great view of her cunt. After a brief glance there, he slid his hands down her arms, his attention on them, not her boobs, his expression intent.
Jodi’s skin kept tingling at his touch. She wasn’t certain what he was doing. With the other models, he’d simply told them how to pose. Could be she was such a virgin at this he had to do all the work for her.
He stepped back, shook his head then lifted her arms and folded them over her head, exposing her breasts fully.
Jodi couldn’t stop her aroused sigh. She leaned toward him, wanting his hands on her nipples and pussy.
He brushed both accidentally. Maybe on purpose. Didn’t matter. She let out a wanting moan.
Mac made a noise that said he was deep in thought. She’d heard it before when he worked. He tilted his head to the right then to the left as he regarded her.
Her throat and face heated.
“No,” he said suddenly. “Don’t blush.”
Like she could help it?
With what sounded like an impatient sigh, he repositioned her arms again. This time he had them behind her back, her wrists together. With his knuckles beneath her chin, he tilted up her head then ran his fingertips over her nipples.
No accident.
Her areolas tightened immediately.
“Don’t move,” Mac ordered. He padded to his camera. “After I shoot you nude, we’ll try some waist cinchers, bustiers, a collar and—“
“What? No.” Jodi shook her head.
He planted his hands on his hips and frowned. “You moved.”
She tilted her chin back up to where he’d had it. “I don’t think me dressed—or rather undressed in those things is such a good idea.”
“Who’s the photographer here?”
“Is that a trick question?”
Mac grinned wolfishly. “Who’s the boss?”
He had her there too. She teased, “Gonna fire me if I say no?”
“Nope. I’m going to spank you until you learn to obey. Don’t move.”
<
br /> Tell that to her heart. The damn thing whacked against her chest and throat at the thought of Mac turning her over his knee. The rest of Jodi was less enthused as he moved from one side of her to the other, clicking away, lost in his work. She fought to breathe and swallow but couldn’t.
“Good girl,” he murmured, still taking shots. “You’re not moving at all.”
“Only because I’m scared to death.”
Mac squeezed off one more shot then lowered his camera. “Are you going to pass out?”
Jodi hauled in a much-needed breath. “I don’t think so.”
“Good.” He resumed taking pictures.
Before long the small of her back and her neck began to hurt. Her legs went numb. She wiggled her toes to get some circulation into them then stopped when Mac paused and frowned at his camera.
Had she fucked up his shot? Would she come out looking like a gargoyle because of that one misstep?
Shit, who could do this for a living? Ever since starting there, Jodi had envied the models for having such an easy career. She’d honestly believed that all they had to do was roll out of bed, have Hilary work her magic on their hair and makeup, strike some poses then collect thousands in fees.
How wrong she’d been. This was freaking hard and fucking boring. If it hadn’t been for Mac’s cock swinging back and forth and his balls bouncing as he moved, Jodi wouldn’t have liked it at all.
“Okay, relax for a sec,” he said, then pointed at her. “No, I didn’t say move. I said relax. Maybe breathe.”
Maybe? “I can’t feel my legs anymore. I need to shake some blood back into them.”
He was at her side in a moment, his arm around her waist. “Am I working you too hard?”
Not as much as he had when she’d been bent over her desk with his cock plowing into her. That, she’d loved. This, she could live without. Jodi slid off the stool. For the first few seconds she had absolutely no feeling in her legs. Then the prickly sensations hit. She gritted her teeth. “How many more shots do you intend to take?”
“A couple of hundred. No more than that.”
Her mouth fell open.
Mac must have caught her obviously horrified expression. He hesitated then pecked the tip of her nose. “You’ll be fine.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“Up on the stool. I’ll be right back.” He left the area and went into the prop room.
Jodi staggered to the sofa, wincing at her tingly feet. She gobbled a melon ball, took a huge bite of a cheese bagel then washed everything down with a gulp of cold coffee. Before she got back to her stool, Mac came out.
Seeing her, he shook his head. “Have you been bad?”
Her body weakened at the thought of him forgetting the pictures and pinking up her ass with a lick of the strap or his palm. Him squeezing her whipped cheeks, adding to the intense heat coursing through them. “Uh-huh. Gonna spank me now?”
“Later.” He held out a leather garment and collar to her, both items studded with silver eyelets that made them look doubly brutal and restrictive. “Put these on.”
Jodi was reluctant to touch them. “Are you serious?”
“I’ll help.”
Before she knew what had happened, Mac had her zipped into the corset-like thing. The front of it dipped to her pussy, grazing her reddish curls. The back stopped well short of her ass, exposing it. As for the top, it had half cups that supported her breasts but bared her nipples.
They constricted painfully.
Mac pulled on the laces. “Let me know if this gets too tight.”
Jodi figured she’d never know. She’d stopped breathing seconds before.
“This good?” he asked.
She nodded.
He tied the laces in back, letting the ends dangle over her cheeks like tiny whips.
For some reason that really turned Jodi on. A riot of sensations dashed through her, settling in her pussy. She sensed her folds were swollen again, her cunt wet.
“You okay?” Mac asked.
Jodi turned into him and suckled his throat to show him how okay she was.
On a hard, passionate growl, Mac cupped her ass and pulled her into his cock, his mouth seeking hers. They kissed for minutes, their passion raw and shameless. Finally he tore his mouth free. He looked as dizzy as Jodi felt.
After a forceful swallow, he gasped, “Where’s the collar?”
She looked. “You’re standing on it.”
He seemed surprised at that. After he’d slipped it around her throat, he stepped back and studied her.
Despite the heat in his eyes, Jodi still winced at his scrutiny. “If you laugh,” she warned.
“Laugh?”
Mac crowded her so quickly Jodi danced back. He followed.
“I don’t want to hear shit like that from you again, understand?”
She screwed up her mouth. “I’m only being honest.”
“About me being a bastard and laughing at you?”
Her face went slack. “No. I didn’t mean…you wouldn’t…”
“I already know that. Criticize yourself again and you’ll get this.” He grabbed Jodi’s wrist, turned her to the side and smacked her ass hard.
She sucked in a breath at the pleasant sting and slumped against him. “If I say I’m butt ugly will you do that again?”
Grinning, he eased her away and grabbed his camera. “Later…whether you say anything shitty about yourself or not. Back on the stool.”
His hands were all over her again, sometimes intimately, as he put her in the poses he liked. He worked her until only a half hour remained before the studio opened. This time Jodi had been in the same pose for so long, she thought she’d die. Her joints creaked like an arthritic’s. The leather caused her to sweat, which only made the corset tighter. Poor Rocco, no wonder he’d bitched so much about his pants. Jodi was surprised the other models hadn’t complained louder about these prolonged shoots. Her muscles were stiff from keeping them still for so long.
When Mac finally finished, her body rejoiced. Her heart, on the other hand, sank at the thought that their morning together was finally over.
Reluctantly she dressed. Mac didn’t seem as unwilling. Whistling, he tugged on his clothes with an eagerness that said he couldn’t wait to start his day.
“What are you going to do with the photos?” she asked.
He finished zipping his fly and looked up. “Which ones?”
She slanted him a look.
He smiled wistfully. “I’m going to beat my meat to them.”
“What?”
His eyebrows lifted. “Don’t worry. Not while anyone else is here except you.”
“Oh goody, that makes me feel a lot better.”
“Great.” He winked then went into his office with the camera’s memory card and closed the door.
Jodi was about to follow until she heard him turn the lock. Oh shit. If he didn’t want her inside, he knew how bad she’d looked while he’d been shooting her. He was probably going to Photoshop her image to make her pretty even if he had to risk blowing a circuit board in his computer or frying his software.
What had she been thinking, going along with him? If those pictures ever got out—god, if her parents saw them… Jodi shuddered at the thought. The second Mac had a free moment she was going to tell him to destroy the damn things. Never again would she do anything this dumb.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him to keep her pictures safe, but she did know how the world worked. If someone hacked into his computer and stole the images, they’d probably plaster them all over the Internet for a good laugh.
Jodi’s hands trembled as she cleaned up their breakfast stuff, putting the food in the fridge or on the counter. After dumping the used plates and utensils, she sagged in her chair.
The front door swung open. In came Hilary and Cait, arms wrapped around each other’s waists, lips locked. After a noisy kiss, punctuated with breathless moans, they both inclined their heads to Jodi
in greeting.
Jodi dipped hers right back.
Cait smacked Hilary’s butt. “Have a great day.”
Giggling, Hilary wound her arm around Cait’s neck and went at her again. A stranger would have thought that several continents would be separating them today rather than a few feet in this studio.
Models arrived next, ditching their clothes, ignoring Jodi except when they had to check in. After what Mac had told her, Jodi found herself less awestruck and more critical as she examined the babes. She looked for telltale scars from liposuction, breast implants, whether they’d had their ears pinned back, their noses rearranged.
Either she needed new glasses or they were still as perfect as she’d first thought.
With envious confidence, Mac strode past her desk and joined the others.
“Hey, baby,” Willow purred to him. “Thanks.” She planted a wet one right on Mac’s mouth.
Jodi’s heart caught. She leaned up to see if he was returning Willow’s kiss then decided she didn’t want to know. Turning to her screen, Jodi tried to concentrate on the text but couldn’t. Visions of Willow kept dancing in her head. She was five-ten with pert boobs and a perfect ass. Her fair skin was ivory, her Eurasian features exquisite. She wore her straight black hair Cleopatra-style with full bangs.
“Ah, welcome,” Mac finally said to her. “What did I do?”
“The fruit, bagels and cream cheese. It was so sweet of you to have your girl get that for us.”
Jodi gritted her teeth.
“Actually, that stuff’s mine,” Mac said. “Don’t touch it.”
Silence fell over the room except for the booming rap tune one of them had put on. Jodi chanced a look. The models were exchanging surprised glances at Mac’s harsh tone. Cait was setting up the shoot. Hilary messed with her trays of makeup. Mac returned the remaining bagels to the kitchen.
When he came out, Jodi tried to catch his eye to thank him for keeping their time together special but he got right down to business with the others, explaining the scene he wanted to create.
For hours, he worked the ladies, finally breaking for a late lunch. As the models told Jodi what to get them from the organic place, Mac went into his office and locked his door again. When she returned a short time later, he wasn’t sitting on the edge of her desk, waiting for her as he had been yesterday.
