Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
I shifted in my seat at the image she painted, and my mind flooded with thoughts of fucking him on camera. He resituated himself, and I chanced a glance out the corner of my eyes, unable to miss the bulge growing behind his zipper.
“You’ll each have a dressing room with outfits and props to utilize for your shoot. Once we’re done, we have a separate room for you to meet and chat, with appetizers and drinks. A place to get to those pesky first date questions. So, I’ll leave you each to get ready and meet you on the other side.”
We stood, and my knees shook, my heart thumping harder the closer we got to touching.
“Oh, before you go. Would you like to do the photoshoot outdoors or indoors?
“Inside,” I said.
“Outside,” Ian said at the same time.
Sarah’s eyes flicked between the both of us, and I looked to Ian, feeling a pinprick to the bubble of excitement when he gave me a bit of a condescending smile. I’d been given enough smiles like that over my years of working in a high-demand business consisting mostly of doubtful men.
“Outside,” he said again, with a wink this time, like he knew best and expected me to follow along.
Pulling my shoulders back, I gave him my own smile that let him know what I thought about him trying to dictate to me. “Definitely inside. It’s too hot outside, and I don’t want to be sweaty.”
One of his brows slowly rose. “I’d love to be sweaty with you.”
I almost caved then and there with the promise in his eyes, but my stubborn pride wasn’t backing down. “Inside.”
“Ooookay,” Sarah said, interrupting the battle of wills. “Inside it is. Lady’s choice. You two get ready, and I’ll see you in a bit.”
I gave him my own wink with a victorious smile before turning and entering the indicated room to change. I’d worn skinny jeans and a sweater, but now that I’d met the man I’d be getting close with, I wanted to push the limits. Thankfully, I’d worn my black, lacy La Perla lingerie. I wasn’t sure we’d get that far, but despite his condescending tone, I hoped we did.
Looking through the selection of easy-access dresses, I decided on a black wrap dress I brought myself and kept my pumps on. Looking in the mirror, I tossed my hair again and puckered my lips. “Eat your heart out, Ian.”
He’d learn like all the other men that underestimated me.
I tugged the V of the dress open a bit more, exposing my cleavage to its best advantage and stepped out to the studio. Soft jazz played in the background, setting the mood. On one side was all lighting and equipment. The other side was set up like a hotel room; all whites and light colors. A bed, nightstand with a lamp, and a chair that spurred more than a few naughty thoughts. Especially since it held a large man in a black button-up and black slacks.
“You look stunning,” Sarah complimented.
Ian’s eyes snapped up and immediately dropped to my feet, working their way up my body like I hoped his hands did later. “Gorgeous,” he rumbled.
“Let’s get started, shall we? The main thing to remember is to communicate with each other. Otherwise, have fun.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem.” Ian stepped up close, forcing me to tip my head back to hold his stare.
The snap of the camera pulled me out of the moment and reminded me that we weren’t alone.
“Let’s start with an embrace and go from there,” Sarah suggested.
I went to move for his hips at the same time he moved for mine and our hands collided.
We both laughed and went to talk at the same time.
“Why don’t you move your hands here,” I suggested.
“Why don’t you let me take the wheel, baby?”
His words were delivered with another schmoozy smile. “How about I just show you what you need to do since you seem to need help.”
He breathed a deep laugh. “I’m sure I can figure it out,” he muttered.
The camera kept clicking as we fumbled with the tie around my waist, but not the snap holding it closed. I got his shirt untucked and four buttons opened. All of these done with muttered demands from each of us and fumbling hands. It was a mess, and we were only fifteen minutes in, each one ticking by like a bomb on all my fantasies about to blow up.
“Stop fighting me,” he growled when our hands collided again to undo the button on my dress.
“I’m not fighting you.”
“Then let me get it.”
“It’s fine. I’ve got it.”
“You are the most argumentative woman I’ve ever met.”
“Because I don’t fall at your feet at your half-ass seduction attempts?”
“Jesus.”
“Are you trying?”
“You’re crazy, woman.” My eyebrows shot to my hairline at the comment muttered under his breath. “Here, tip your head this way,” he tried to direct, but I was already moving another way, and we bumped noses.