by Ophelia Bell
Now he’s clean-shaven, his hair the usual stylishly messy mop on his head, and he wears a purple button-down dress shirt and dark slacks that look tailored to fit his athletic frame.
Leo and I haven’t really spoken more than a few words since the night of my confession. The two days he was an invalid in my bed, I didn’t say more than to ask if he was hungry or thirsty before Celeste whisked him off to her father’s house to finish recuperating. During his last session, he was civil but otherwise silent beyond discussing his tattoo.
He rubs at the juncture of his shoulder and rolls it. “Not bad. I still owe you for everything, but I’m here to ask for something.”
“It’s probably too soon for a cover-up. You need to give it at least another year—the skin is too delicate to tattoo.”
“I have no plans to cover it,” he says. “That bullet was the last thing I shared with my brother.” He pauses and clears his throat while I give him a stiff nod of understanding. “I have an idea for more ink. But it’s a little more involved. You have time for a consultation?”
I glance at Sam, who observes us with a serious, businesslike expression. He nods. The kid started taking the job seriously after Toni’s visit, so I can’t complain. “Nothing on the schedule unless we have walk-ins, and you’ve got me covering consultations for artwork anyway.”
“Care to join me in my office?” I ask, gesturing to the cubicle.
“Actually, can we do this upstairs?”
Surprised, I nod and continue to the lift, stepping in and waiting for him to follow before pushing the gate shut and hitting the button. A million questions shoot through my head, but I don’t say a thing. I’m wildly curious about what he wants to discuss up in my loft. Maybe he left something behind, but I’ve cleaned the place dozens of times since that weekend and haven’t found a thing.
When we exit, I finally break the silence. “Tell me about this tattoo.”
Instead of answering, he makes a beeline to the corner and stops in front of the wall of photos, then turns around. “Where are they?”
“The porn is stashed in a box, if that’s what you’re asking.” I chuckle and shake my head. “Mom visited at Thanksgiving for the first time and naturally wasn’t thrilled that I had those hanging on the wall when Sam and Elle spend most weekdays studying here. She said I know better than to be that kind of influence. So I replaced them with more family-friendly pieces.”
He crosses his arms and smiles. “No shit. She doesn’t know you too well if she saw that as bad.”
Snorting, I turn toward the bedroom and gesture. “Come on, I’ll pull them out. You want to buy one or something?”
“I don’t need to see them. What I want is to hire you to do a shoot like that with me and Celeste.”
I stop in my tracks, positive I’m hearing things. Pivoting, I stare at him, not sure what the hell to say to that, but the image of the pair of them tangled up like James and Sequoia makes my mouth go dry.
Leo rubs his hands together as he meets my gaze, then swallows and darts his eyes toward the bed. “The one picture, where the girl’s face looks like she just saw Jesus . . . I want you to get one of Celeste like that. And I want you to turn it into a tattoo.”
Clearing my throat, I cross my arms. “You do realize in order to capture her in the midst of literal rapture, she needs to have a real orgasm in front of my camera, right? Either by herself or with you. That is, unless you wanted me to be the one to give it to her.”
“Don’t be an asshole,” he mutters and glances away again.
Realizing how uncomfortable he is about asking me this, I laugh. “It’s okay, dude. I’m just surprised. You two have only been together a few months. Congratulations, by the way.” I leave unsaid the ordeal he had to go through to get the woman of his dreams. If I didn’t care about him, I’d have no qualms about twisting that spike.
His tension slackens, and he props his hands on his hips, giving me a baffled look. “Man, never in a million years did I expect it would happen. I owe it to you, so I want you to help me with this. I’ll pay you, of course. Name the price.”
I mirror his stance, placing my hands on my hips. “I get that this is probably a romantic gesture in your head, but is Celeste okay with it? Having someone in your face with a camera while you’re fucking isn’t necessarily a turn-on for everyone. My regular couple are exhibitionists, so they actually get off on it.”
I don’t add that either James or Sequoia will tip me with a blowjob at the end of the session. As much as his offer is the thing of fantasies, if Leo’s serious about this, I’m expecting a day of pure torture. I’m not saying no though. I must be a goddamn masochist.
His lips curl into a sly smile. “Turns out she has a kinky streak. She’s into the idea or I wouldn’t have asked.”
My eyebrows twitch with interest, but I school my features again and clear my throat. I dip my chin and regard him more intently. “And you’re cool with me being in your business like that? It’s invasive. I don’t just stand back with the camera on a tripod. I’m not going to just wait for the right moment and hope I get a good shot. I’ll be moving around the two of you with a camera the entire time. I also want the option to include some in my portfolio if you agree to it, and that means a lot more than face shots. You’ll wind up with hundreds of options to choose from, to do what you will with.”
We haven’t said word one to each other about my confession, so I hope the subtext is clear. If he has a problem with a bi man checking out his assets while he fucks his girlfriend, he needs to tell me now.
He darts his eyes to the floor and rakes his fingers through his curls. They bounce back like they have a mind of their own, and my hand itches to touch them just once. He’s as tense as he was at the start of the conversation when he looks at me again, making a point to look me directly in the eyes despite his obvious discomfort.
“I owe you an apology for that night. You surprised me, but it isn’t like you actually did anything wrong. I was an asshole to a good friend. Hell, you might be my only friend outside of Toni and her brothers. And after what you did for me . . . I’m going to have a tough time ever repaying that favor.”
I swallow and nod, accepting his apology even as I die a little inside.
“Friends don’t keep score,” I say in a gruff tone, and I’m shocked when he closes the distance between us and hauls me into his arms in a fierce embrace. I hug him back, clenching my teeth against the onslaught of emotion that his simple act of affection draws forth.
I push away before my body can catch up to the realization that it’s pressed against him, and I turn to hide the state of my wet eyes. “You want a beer while I pull out a contract and we talk schedules? Speaking of which, I still owe you for the photo shoot from before, so we can call it even if you want.”
“That works. As for the schedule, what about tomorrow? You usually do photo shoots on Sundays, if I remember right.”
My neck prickles with a combination of dread and excitement, and I have to tamp down that feeling as I turn to hand him a beer. He settles on one of the mismatched barstools across the kitchen counter and tilts the bottle back, taking a long swallow as if he’s parched.
I’m distracted by the ripple of his throat muscles and force myself to look at my beer as I pop the cap off and take a swig. “Tomorrow’s great. We’ll have pretty good light if you show up between two and three, when the sun’s at the right angle to come through the windows.” The goddamn sun is the last thing on my mind. I’m already picturing the pair of them naked on my bed again, but this time I’ll be there with my camera.
“Then it’s set,” he says.
I lean both elbows on the bar and give him a once-over, tilting the mouth of the bottle toward him. “So, this new look have anything to do with Celeste, or is it all about her dad?”
He glances down at the expensive tailored shirt and laughs. “I guess I’ve gone corporate. It’s fucking crazy, isn’t it? I spend as much time sitting in an
office or being chauffeured to meetings as I used to spend slinging drugs for La Valla.”
“No word about Gustavo? Rumor has it he’s alive.”
Leo shakes his head. “He’d have to have a pretty strong fucking constitution to survive, if Amador took him. I saw the man take a bullet to the gut. But stranger things have happened.”
I grimace at the sense of dread that settles over me. The less chance Gustavo has of coming back from the dead to come after J.J., the better, but hearing rumors that he’s alive puts me on edge. I still need to be cautious with Leo too. He’s Arturo’s right hand now. Inviting him and Celeste into my place is risky as long as J.J. keeps running those guns. The last thing I need is Arturo getting wind of my brother’s dealings with the cartels. It isn’t exactly a secret that Papá Flores hates it when they do business in his territory. I’ve tattooed enough men with dead friends who made that mistake to understand that the consequences are pretty fucking dire if he gets caught. I’m not sure which of the two is the bigger threat.
But J.J.’s next haul isn’t coming in until next Sunday morning, so I can breathe easy for now. At least until tomorrow afternoon, when I’ll have the endurance test of my life.
25
Maddox
I spend the rest of the day and the next morning in a state of semi-arousal, hating my dick just a little for how hyperaware it is of what’s to come. I don’t typically open the shop on Sundays, so I spend the morning cleaning my apartment and taking exhaustive inventory of my photography gear. I clear all the clutter from every surface because I want as many options as possible for settings. My entire loft is fair game, but I have a feeling things won’t move outside the safer zones of my bedroom and the area beyond. I put clean, white sheets on the bed along with a crisp, white cotton duvet on the down comforter. Neutral, plain backgrounds are preferable for the most striking shots, and I don’t want any noise distracting from the two models.
Thinking of Leo and Celeste as nothing more than models is the only way I can keep this event in perspective. This isn’t new to me by any stretch, so I should be able to keep things professional, but when I’m finished setting up and hit the shower, I’m bombarded with the memory of Celeste throwing herself at me within this small space. I turn the heat up and soap up my dick, bringing myself off with punishing strokes that leave me feeling empty rather than sated when I’m finished.
This is just a project for a friend, at least that’s what I keep telling myself, but when the buzzer outside the garage entrance sounds, my skin prickles with awareness of what’s to come.
“Be right down,” I answer with a press of my thumb to the speaker button. I steady my breathing and focus to keep my heart rate steady when I head down in the lift. It almost feels like I’m heading off on assignment into a combat zone, so it takes work to settle my nerves and remind myself that I’m just spending the afternoon with two friends. So what if they’re going to be fucking right in front of me? At least nobody’s aiming a gun at my head.
When I open the door, they’re snuggled up together against the December chill that persists in the shaded alley at the back of my shop. Leo’s in jeans and a leather jacket, and Celeste is in a dress with a fluffy, fleecy thing wrapped around her. Leo tilts his head back toward the alley.
“Is it cool if I park back here?”
I follow his gaze to a black Bentley, and my brows shoot up. “Ah, why don’t I let you pull it inside? Jesus Christ, Leo, you’re really milking this new position, aren’t you?” I usher them in, then hit the switch for the garage door.
Leo laughs and eyes Celeste, whose already pink cheeks flush darker. “Papá bought it for him,” she says. “Insists he needs to keep up appearances, since everything he drives or wears reflects on the business.” To Leo, she adds, “I told you we should’ve had Baz or Benny drive us.”
“And have the pair of them know our business? Hell no. Mad Dog has us covered.”
When the door opens enough, he ducks out and jogs to the Bentley. The engine rumbles to life a second later and settles to a low purr as I maneuver my bike out of the way so he can pull into the open bay.
Somehow it feels like a cleansing of sorts, to have this brand-new, expensive car resting in this space, its engine ticking faintly as it cools. Karma has seen fit to shine brightly for my friend, and I can’t help but be happy for him.
Leo claps me on the shoulder and leans in. “I’ll let you take her for a spin later if you want. Just don’t let it get back to Papá.”
My dick twitches in interest, more for the man at my side than the car, but I give him a wicked grin anyway, because a turn at the wheel of this beauty wouldn’t be a terrible consolation prize.
I turn to lead them to the lift and am caught off guard by Celeste, who has removed her coat. She’s wearing the same dress she wore that day she visited for her consultation. It’s a flowery blue thing that wraps around her body and clings to all her curves. I vividly recall how she looked when the belt came undone and I was on my knees in front of her. It takes every ounce of willpower to accept her hug without burying my face in her hair and inhaling her like a drug.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” she asks in a soft voice. Her eyes search mine, then she glances at Leo, who is engrossed in something on his phone.
“It’s all good,” I say, averting my gaze and slipping past to open the lift.
The music I put on earlier fills my loft with the subdued, sexy beat of trip-hop fusion. The lyrics blend with the hypnotic instrumentals, calming my frayed nerves as well as lending a sexy ambience to the experience. We step out and I take their coats, hanging them on the hooks by the lift before heading to the kitchen.
“We can take this at a pace that’s comfortable for you. I have drinks if you want a little something to relax and get into the mood first.”
A bottle of inexpensive champagne and two flutes rest on my bar counter, alongside an assortment of liquor: whiskey, tequila, and vodka, the three staples. A bowl of lime wedges and a saltshaker sit beside the tequila.
I pick up my camera and sling the strap over my neck, checking my settings for the millionth time while the two of them wander in, hands clasped. Leo dips his head and whispers something into Celeste’s ear. She smiles and nods, and he breaks away and heads to the counter.
“So, do you direct, or do we just do whatever we feel like doing?” He picks up the tequila and pours two shots into the glasses, glancing at me between each one.
“Just pretend I’m a fly on the wall. My place is yours for as long as you want. I’m nothing more than a prop with a camera.” I hold my camera up to peer through the viewfinder and snap a shot. He grins, not a shred of self-consciousness evident as he balances two lime wedges on the rim of each shot glass, then picks them both up in one hand and grabs the saltshaker in the other.
Celeste averts her gaze when I direct the camera at her, and I catch the subtle flush of her cheeks. She’s shy about this, but not frightened. When she licks her lips and watches Leo approach her with their shots, her excitement is apparent in the heated gaze they share.
The chemistry between them is palpable, and I have to force down a ball of pure, acrid jealousy so I can focus on what I’m here for. I ease out from behind the counter and approach as if I’m stalking skittish wildlife. They both shoot a look at me, then Leo pulls Celeste’s attention back to him with a nudge of his finger against her chin. He hands her one shot, plucks the lime wedge from it, and tucks it between her lips, rind-first. Then he gently tilts her head to the side, brushes her hair away from her shoulder and dips down to suck at the bared curve of shoulder he’s revealed.
I begin shooting in earnest, easily slipping into the zone behind my camera as Leo begins his seduction. He’s smooth, but she’s already willing, her body arching toward him ever so slightly when he salts the wet spot he made on her skin, licks it again, then tosses back the shot of tequila she holds in her hand. He ends the ritual by capturing her head with both hands, lea
ning in, and taking the lime straight from her mouth with his. He lingers there for a moment to suck on it while she still holds it between her teeth.
Now it’s her turn, but rather than target his neck, she steps close and undoes several buttons of his shirt. The ritual repeats, but this time she’s bolder, baring his tattooed chest and sucking one of his pink nipples into her mouth so hard he gasps around the lime she placed between his teeth. She flicks her tongue over it once more when she releases it and gives him a wicked smile as she shakes salt on his wet skin. Then she licks the salt off slowly, follows through with the shot, and leans up and takes the lime, sucking as she settles back on her heels.
He takes her lime and sets her shot glass down on the edge of the coffee table next to his, then closes in with a hungry stare. Threading his fingers into the hair at her nape, he nuzzles her neck again where he sucked on it earlier and murmurs into her ear.
“Being watched turns you on, doesn’t it, ángel?”
I move close to capture the play of his mouth on her skin and hear her whispered, “Yes.” The sound travels down my spine, and my dick strains painfully against my jeans. Hopefully, they’ll remain too engrossed in each other to notice my own state.
Leo’s erection is apparent in his jeans, a thick ridge bulging to the left and looking like it might extend past his waistband if he untucked his shirt. My body aches with the need just to see them both in action, even if I’m not here to be more involved than I already am. This might be the closest I’ll ever get.
It will have to be enough because it’s painfully apparent how perfect they are together—how intense their connection is—when they finally kiss. I hold the camera button down to capture a burst of their mouths. Leo’s fingers bracket Celeste’s chin, and she curls her arms around his neck, her body molding into his.
He tugs at the tie of her dress while she slips her hands between them, pulling his shirt free of his waistband and unbuttoning it the rest of the way. At the same time, he begins walking her backward, kissing her the entire way. He’s aiming her at my bedroom, and I skirt them quietly to move ahead, snapping more shots on the way past.