by Becca Colton
I grin. “Axel. It’s a play on my name and …” My grin widens. “Well, I think you can probably guess what else XL stands for.”
She blushes, dropping her eyes to the ground, and I have to resist the urge to take her in my arms and kiss her.
“This is probably a mistake,” she says, so softly I barely hear her.
She starts to turn away and I have to resist the urge to grab her. She ran away once. I cannot let her slip away again. I say the one thing that might hopefully be able to stop her.
“Freedom.”
She stops and looks back at me. It was too dark to tell in the club, but she has the biggest, bluest eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. For just a moment, my mind goes blank as I lose myself in those pools of blue.
“What did you say?” she asks.
“Freedom.” I smile, trying to look innocent. Harmless. I don’t want to scare her away. “That’s what you’re looking for, right?” I step back and gesture for her to come inside.
She hesitates, and I can almost sense her desire to look back at her car.
“Come on,” I say. “Over a hundred people applied for the assistant position. You’re the only one who got an interview, based solely on your intriguing one-word answer.” I nod toward the portfolio case she’s holding in her hand. “At least let me see what you’ve got.” I try to keep my mind on business as I think of a few things she’s got that I’ve already seen, tasted, felt. I swallow a groan as the crotch of my pants becomes even tighter.
Her eyes drop below my waist and grow wider. She licks her lips again as she stands there. After a few seconds, she nods, as if making a decision, and steps through the door. After she walks by, I hastily adjust myself so things aren’t quite as painful.
She looks around as she exits the foyer into the spacious living room. “Is this your house? Your studio?”
“Both, actually,” I reply.
I gesture toward one of the overstuffed couches. “Have a seat. Would you like something to drink?”
She glances at me and I see her pupils dilate, probably remembering how things went the last time I offered her a drink. Unable to help myself, I glance down. Her nipples are hard, the two hard points pressing against her shirt.
I smile wickedly at her. “How’s that old saying go? Coffee? Tea? Me?”
“I’m fine,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
I run my gaze up and down her body. “Trust me, sweetness. You are a thousand times more than simply fine.”
She blushes and runs a hand through her hair. Chewing on her lip, she drops her gaze to the floor for a moment before looking up into my eyes. “I don’t mean to be rude but I think it would be best to forget about last night. I’m here to apply for a position as your assistant and I’d hate for last night’s…” Her blush deepens. “I’d hate for last night to negatively impact that opportunity.”
I’m stunned, and momentarily speechless. And very impressed. She could easily try to seduce her way into the position. It wouldn’t work — a nice piece of ass isn’t worth compromising my business — but it would be fun to watch her try.
I clear my throat, forcing myself to focus back on the purpose of this meeting. “Forgetting last night isn’t an option. I’ll remember that fantastic evening until I die, and possibly even beyond that, but we’ll go ahead and leave that in the past.” For now.
She finally sits on the couch, clutching her portfolio in front of her like a shield. I sit on the loveseat across from her, although I’d prefer to sit next to her and pull her onto my lap.
“This is a bit awkward,” I say, offering a smile to ease us over this bump, “but I never got your name last night and I only know your user name on the forum.”
“Oh gosh,” she gasps, raising her hands to cover her mouth, her eyes wide. “I’m so sorry. Harper. My name’s Harper.”
“Harper.” I say it slowly, savoring it on my tongue. “Simply beautiful.” I nod toward her portfolio. “So, let’s see what you’ve got, Harper.” I pray the woman is good with a camera. Even if she’s not, I’ll find something for her to do. Anything to keep her near me. But it will be so much easier if I can hire her for the position she wants.
I open the portfolio and start looking over the 11x16 prints she has on display. My worries lessen with each image I see. She’s good. Very good. But she’s playing it safe. Standard poses, standard lighting. She’s talented, but she doesn’t appear to realize that.
“May I ask a question?” she says.
I look at her, arching an eyebrow.
“One question,” she says. She tilts her head, looking intently at me. “That’s it. One question to decide if someone gets to interview with you. I could’ve shown up and not even known how to turn a digital camera on.”
A laugh escapes me. I nod toward her portfolio. “It’s safe to say you know how to turn a camera on. You’re very good.”
She blushes, a small smile making her even more beautiful.
I shrug and lean back, closing her portfolio. I’ve seen enough. I’d hire her even if I didn’t want to make her mine. “I don’t need to know skills. Skills can be taught. Some people have an eye for photography, giving them an advantage, but it’s not necessary. The lighting, the poses, operating the camera, it can all be taught. What’s important is the desire.”
Frustrated with the distance between us, tired of playing nice, I move to sit next to her, close enough for my leg to press against hers. She tenses but doesn’t move away. I look her in the eye. “Desire. Passion. Those are the things that take something good and make it great.” I lean toward her and claim her mouth with mine as she gasps. Her hand reaches up and grabs my arm, but she doesn’t push me away. Instead, her grip tightens and she moans as I tease the seam of her mouth. She parts her lips, letting me in, and my tongue dances with hers.
After a few seconds, she slowly pulls away. She licks her lips, her eyes filled with lust. “What happened to keeping things professional?” she gasps.
Her nipples are hard enough to cut glass, making their presence known through her blouse, and she’s breathing heavy, her voice slightly deeper, but she’s not quite ready yet. She still wants to pretend the chemistry between us can be denied. That’s fine. I can play that game for just a tiny bit longer. I rise from the couch and take a few steps away. There’s no way I could remain close and not put my cock in her.
I smile as she crosses her arms over her chest, trying to hide her arousal. “Right. Professional. What kind of equipment do you have?”
The fire dies in her eyes like I dumped a bucket of cold water on her. She looks away, covering her mouth with her hand. She mumbles something.
“I’m sorry. What was that?”
She sighs. “I said I had to sell my gear for rent money.”
I nod. “It’s probably hard to tell in the current surroundings but I’ve been there. Photography is a feast or famine business, and the famine part can be brutal.”
She nods, and I can see her fighting to hold back tears. I sit back down next to her and wrap her in my arms, pulling her close. “None of that now. It’s just part of the business. I’ll just write a check and you can go buy some new gear.”
She pulls away. “I don’t need a handout.”
I reach out and take her hand in mine. “It’s not a handout. It’s business. I’m very picky about the equipment I use, and that also goes for the equipment my assistant uses.” I shrug and offer her a reassuring smile. “Even if you still had your old equipment, I’d still have you buy stuff that works with my workflow.”
She looks at me, trying to determine if I’m telling the truth. She finally nods, wiping her eyes with the fingers of her free hand.
I give her hand a squeeze. “We all do what we have to do. On the bright side, you still have a roof over your head, right?”
It was the wrong thing to say. The tears are back, and this time there’s no holding them back. She pulls her hand away and leans forward, covering her face, sobbing. “No. I di
dn’t get even half what all that equipment was worth. I still don’t have enough for rent.”
“Then you’ll stay in one of my spare rooms.” I hold up a hand before she can protest. “I will not have you sleeping in your car or on the street.” I wave my hand at the large room we’re in. “I have more than enough room, with some extra rooms set up as portrait scenes while others are storage or just sitting empty.” I flash her a wicked smile. “Unless of course you’d like to stay in my room with me.” She blushes and rubs her thighs together. I can practically smell her arousal, and I can’t wait to have her in my bed. She says something, so low I can barely hear her. “What was that?” I ask.
She glances at me, her cheeks flushed bright red. “Thank you,” she says softly.
I stand, pulling my wallet from my back pocket. “You say that now, but we’ll see what you say tomorrow.” I pull a black credit card from my wallet and toss it on the couch cushion next to her as she looks up at me curiously. “I have a wedding scheduled tomorrow,” I explain. “I was going to cover it solo but I think you’re ready.” I nod toward the card. “Go to the photo store and get ready to shop. I’ll text you a list of everything you need to get before you get there. Afterwords, come back here so you can get some practice time in with the new camera and lights.” I can’t help but smile at the grin that appears on her face when I mention new equipment. Typical shutterbug. Always ready to play with new gadgets.
She grabs the card, glances at me for just a moment, hesitant, like I might change my mind and snatch it back from her, and then bounces to her feet, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before offering a quick “thank you” as she heads to the door. I reach up and touch the spot she kissed, unable to take my eyes from her curvy ass until the front door shuts, blocking my view. I smile, savoring the feel of her lips on my cheek. She doesn’t know it yet, but tonight’s equipment test will be unlike any she’s ever done before.
Chapter 5
Harper
I smile at the man behind the counter. It’s the same guy from before, the one who practically robbed me. He looks at all the equipment I’ve set on the counter and arches an eyebrow. I slap down the black credit card beside the pile of equipment and his eyebrow arches even higher. “Someone’s had a change of luck.”
“New job,” I say simply.
He picks up the card and looks at the name. His eyes cut to me and then back to the card, and he shakes his head. “I was on that forum when he was looking for an assistant. Even applied for it myself.” He starts ringing up the photo gear and shakes his head again. “One lousy question.” He looks at me. “What was the correct answer?”
My smile grows bigger. “It’s a secret.”
He huffs under his breath. “Of course it is,” he says as I take the card back and start picking up the bags. “Well, good luck with it. That’s the kind of job that could change someone’s life.”
I think about those words on the way back to Axel’s. It is the type of job that could change someone’s life, and I’m not going to fuck it up by fucking the boss. No matter how wet he makes my panties.
I tell myself I’m committed to keeping things platonic with my new boss. I tell myself this several times during the drive back to his home-slash-studio. Do I believe it? I tell myself I do. And the plan to keep things platonic becomes a lot more believable when I pull up to his house just in time to see him locking lips with a tall gorgeous blonde dressed in nothing but a bright yellow bikini and heels. Her arms are wrapped around his neck and she’s pressing her body so close to his that I probably couldn’t even slide a piece of paper between them.
Axel pulls away from her, glances in my direction, and grimaces. Yeah, buddy. You are so busted. All that talk about desire and passion while he was looking into my eyes, the panty-melting kisses. Just so much bullshit. That’s fine. Nobody said we were dating. It’s just a job. So I fucked my boss the other night. Big deal. Still just a job. Nothing but a paycheck and a big-name photographer on my resume. Definitely worth the hollow emptiness where my heart used to be.
Blondie tilts her nose up just so she can look down at me, one corner of her perfect cupid bow lips turning up in a little smirk as she climbs into her little red convertible. I smile at her, nod, and keep walking, my fingers tightening their grip on the bags in my hands as I imagine them tightening around her throat.
Axel smiles and steps aside, gesturing for me to enter before him. Damn that smile. It only makes him more handsome. But even if I hadn’t seen him playing tonsil hockey with Blondie I’d have to ignore that smile, because he’s my boss, and I’m not going to fuck this up.
“I’m assuming you had fun playing with all the gadgets?” he says.
“I had the list you sent me,” I reply stiffly. “There wasn’t any need to look around at other stuff.”
He arches one perfect eyebrow and grins at me. I feel my cheeks heat up and I can’t help but smile back. “Of course. They have so many cool toys.”
He chuckles. “It’s impossible for a photographer to ignore cool toys. It’s in our blood.”
I nod and then force the smile off my face. While I was buying photo equipment, he was getting busy with Blondie. And he’s not even acting guilty about it. More proof that I’m just an employee. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me being an employee with benefits, but I’m not that kind of girl. Except for the other night. Damn it.
Axel points upstairs. “Down the hall. Third door on the right. Set up your equipment in there. I’ll join you shortly.” He starts to turn away and then looks back. “Oh, and the first door on the left is your room. I straightened it up so you can stay the night and get your stuff tomorrow if you’d like.”
All my stuff is crammed into every bit of available space in my little hatchback, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Thanks but I don’t have any other clothes with me so I’ll probably just go back to the apartment tonight.”
He looks at me and tilts his head. “Are you okay? Your voice sounds . . . different.”
I try to force myself to sound less formal, less stiff. “Sorry. Just looking forward to trying out the new camera.” I smile, and it’s not even forced. I am looking forward to trying the new camera, but I hate that he’s going to be hovering near me. I glance up at his hair. It’s dry, and I have to force the smile to stay in place. I hope he hops in the shower and washes Blondie off before he comes to watch.
With a nod, he turns and heads down the hall. Hopefully to shower. I enter the room he directed me to and look around. It’s a basic studio setup: a paper background hanging from a stand near the back wall, tape on the floor for different lighting setups. I set my bags down on a table along one wall and get to work setting up my new gear.
By the time everything is ready, Axel still hasn’t shown up, and now I’m wondering what I can take pictures of. There’s nothing photogenic in the room. It’s all just photography stuff and a few pieces of furniture. Just as I decide to explore the house to find something to use — a vase, a pillow, something — the door opens and Axel enters, wearing a terrycloth robe that stops just above his knees and — I’m assuming — not much else under it. I’m able to pull my eyes away from the bit of bare chest showing to notice his hair is slightly damp.
He notices where I’m looking and runs a hand through his dark locks. “Sorry if I kept you waiting long. I needed a shower after having Brenda crawl all over me.” He rolls his eyes. “The woman practically bathes in expensive perfume, as if that will help her land a modeling gig, or a guy.
My mouth opens before I can stop it. “It didn’t look like it was causing much of a problem during the goodbye kiss.”
He rolls his eyes. “Trust me. That was her kissing me, and completely against my rules.” He glances at me. “If I’m photographing them I’m not fucking them. It keeps things simple. Besides, she’s all silicone tits, surgically enhanced ass, and has an absolute willingness to fuck anyone she needs to fuck to get to the front of the pack. I was more than ready fo
r her to leave.”
He glances at my new camera mounted on a tripod. “Lose the tripod. They’re good for formal shots but this is about you getting in tune with the camera. You need to be able to move with the flow of the session.”
Wow! First day and I’m already learning something I never thought about. I pull the camera off the tripod and gasp when he steps in front of the portrait background.
He gives me that sexy grin. “Problem?”
“I didn’t think I’d be taking pictures of you,” I manage to say through the shock that’s racing through my ice water in my veins.
He arches an eyebrow. “Why not?” He puts a foot up on the posing stool next to him and it takes all my willpower to not look down at the hem of his bathrobe. “Do you not think I’m photogenic, Harper?”
“No,” I say quickly. “You’re very photogenic.” I lose the battle and my eyes drop. Fuck me. Is he ever photogenic. The man’s thighs are carved out of marble and I have a sudden desire to lick them. Instead of doing that, I concentrate on the camera’s controls, but the thought’s there and I can feel a slow heat building between my thighs.
He leans down, placing a muscular forearm on the knees that’s propped on the stool. It’s a very sexy casual look, that just happens to also make the bottom of the robe rise just a little higher. “This is all about you getting used to your equipment so feel free to give directions like you would any client.” He grins. “I’ll do anything you say.”
Am I panting? I think I’m panting. Not sexy at all. No! Not professional, I correct myself. Sexy doesn’t matter. I’m not trying to be sexy. I’m trying to be professional. I raise the camera and push the button, forcing myself to focus on the photography. The first few pictures suck. I know it without even looking at them, but I slowly get into the groove, and Axel actually behaves himself.
After a few more shots, I decide the harsh glare of the strobe is all wrong. This is a sexy man wearing nothing but a bathrobe. I flick off the strobe and just use the modeling lights, capturing his form in softer, warmer light. He nods with approval when I make the switch, a small smile on his lips. I try a few different poses with him, even having him turn his back to the camera at one point and teasingly telling him to raise the robe so I can see his ass. Although I probably shouldn’t be surprised I am when he actually does it. He clenches his muscles, making his ass tighten, and I have to bite my lower lip to hold back the moan that wants to escape.
