I was pissed at Greg, too. So angry, so furious—and I couldn’t believe I was in this position again. I considered leaving right that second, weary of the way Greg talked to us constantly while in “work mode,” but I’d never breached a contract before. I didn’t know how much of a leg I’d have to stand on if I chose to walk out, especially at the very end. Honestly, Greg wasn’t asking me to do much more than he had in the past—and, to the best of my knowledge, he had no idea about what had transpired between me and Shane after the last time we’d posed together. The issues were mine.
Shane’s voice was low and sexy—and I felt another flash of ire over the fact that I found it so—when he murmured, “There’s only one way I know how to do that.”
My eyes darted upward again and Shane no doubt saw the fury in them, but it didn’t matter what he saw; it didn’t stop him from moving forward with his plan. His olive eyes were smoldering as his face got closer and he pressed his lips on mine before I could say a word. I knew what he was doing, and I also understood why. Shane had a hard time pretending in front of the camera—with me, at least—and so he decided to simulate what Greg was asking for.
I pressed my mouth closed in resistance.
Greg’s voice interjected. “A little better.”
Shane’s lower half moved closer to me and my heartbeat quickened in response. But it was when he actually ground himself into me that I actually gasped. I knew Shane was putting on a show for Greg, but I hadn’t expected dry humping.
Um, well, if he kept it up, it would be anything but dry.
But Shane took advantage of the fact that I’d opened my mouth in surprise and he planted on me a warm, luxurious kiss that made all the ice inside and around me thaw. I was still frozen, not responding as Greg had been demanding, but the man had shut up for a few moments. By the end of that damned kiss, though, I felt my fingers curling in Shane’s hair.
Holy shit. Who’d have thought?
I certainly would not have, particularly when I considered my emotions earlier, but here I was completely primed and ready to engage in full-on sex with this man.
Again.
“Ivy, that’s good with your hands, but can you move one of them to his back? Your red nails would look amazing digging into his skin.”
Only heaven knows how I managed to obey, because it was all I could do to concentrate—to remember that this was supposed to be pretend. My body couldn’t keep it together, though, as all the other parts of me responded. My nerves were on alert, my hairs standing on edge as I waited for takeoff.
I even heard a tiny mmmm in my throat.
My entire body was a traitor.
At this point, I didn’t know exactly what Shane was thinking, but he moved his lips to my neck. I dug my nails in again and heard Greg say, “Perfect. Keep going.”
Keep going? Did he want us to actually fuck?
That was where I’d draw the line. Right now, my panties were on (although they were now damp) and Shane’s underwear and jeans were on, but his cock was stiffening—I could feel it up against me, heating me up even more—and I might have gone farther than I should have, but I had to draw the line somewhere.
Yeah…hard to believe I still had principles at that point.
But I did.
I felt the last little bit of my brain screaming at me, and I was getting ready to call a halt to everything when I heard a long vibrating rrrrrring! It took me a moment to remember that it was a switch at the front counter, alerting Greg that someone was standing at the front counter, letting him know someone was waiting for him.
“Guess that’s a wrap. I have an appointment up front. Stop by the office on the way out for your payment.”
Seriously? That was it? After all we’d gone through, that seemed unceremonious. Unreal, even. But there was my chance. It was my only chance. I had to get the fuck out of Shane’s arms right this second, or we would give in to our basest desires, right there up against the wall. As if encouraging an old friend, I patted Shane on the chest before loosening my grip, ducking my head under his arms, and sliding off the table. “Good job.” Quickly, I traipsed over to the area of the room where I’d flung my jeans to the floor, snatched them up, and scooted to the screen. But I saw Shane out of the corner of my eye—and I didn’t dare look at him. No way.
“That’s it, Ivy? Now you’re just gonna run away from me?”
I swallowed and glanced over at him—mistake!—while taking one step behind the screen. “Why should I even trust you, Shane?”
“You can’t be serious.” In a second, he was at the side of the screen just as I’d stepped completely behind it. I could have pitched a fit, screaming invasion of privacy, but I was putting clothes on, not taking them off. It would have been silly and sophomoric and this was a subject that required me to behave like an adult, like it or not. So I kept my mouth shut, jutting out my chin and raising my eyebrows, in effect telling him I was completely serious, challenging him to answer my question. “Ivy, don’t you get it? When I met you, I was miserable. I fucking hated my life—everything about it. Not just the job or the student loans looming over my head or the people, including my girlfriend, that I associated with. I hated the person I had to pretend to be. You?” Why was my heart softening at his sorrowful soliloquy? “You represented my escape. I’d taken a chance at modeling, hoping I could find something different, and you were a beautiful symbol of that. Even if it didn’t work out, you represented my hope, my faith in the universe.”
Corny, yes, but it was tugging at my heartstrings nevertheless. My lips remained pursed, because I didn’t trust myself to say a word.
“Was making love to you while I was still with my girlfriend wrong? Yeah, technically, but I’d already left her the minute I’d committed to that first session. And she knew it. We’d argued about it. She’d told me I needed to find satisfaction in my job and apply for promotions, move up the ladder, get more involved. She wanted me to do the exact opposite of what I wanted to do. She was asking me to sell my soul. And she knew it. I wasn’t going to be the perfect corporate boyfriend anymore, and I think that scared her. But I wasn’t the guy for her. She knew it. She was trying to make us fit, and we didn’t. So, yeah, Ivy, I cheated on her, okay? I cheated on her. But I’d already left her in my mind…and, that night, we talked and we broke up. It was mutual. Hell, she’s with someone else already, better off for it.”
I felt like a heel then, like I hadn’t given him the benefit of the doubt, and that was because when I’d stormed out of his apartment that afternoon, I’d hardened my heart. I only thought of myself—of my humiliation and shame, of the lewd act I’d engaged in after our questionable photo shoot. But, when I dug deep, I knew Shane was the kind of guy who’d trip my trigger. Physically, he was amazing, from top to bottom, and any woman would die to be with a guy that hot. Now, though, he’d shown me his most vulnerable side, basically pulling apart his chest and yanking out his heart, thrusting it toward me and telling me to look at it—just look at it—and, seeing the suffering, seeing the beauty of struggle and knowing he was enjoying some success made me realize that I couldn’t question it. I couldn’t condemn him for wanting something better.
And now I also knew that maybe he wasn’t a smarmy, sneaky, snaky devil like I’d originally thought.
Maybe he was a good guy after all.
So, by the time I spoke, the ice around my heart had completely melted. My voice was soft. Nodding, I said, “I’m sorry, Shane. I didn’t know…about—”
He touched the bottom of my chin with his finger, urging me to look up at him. “Of course, you didn’t. That’s why I wanted to tell you.”
Those jade eyes of his…I was mesmerized, captivated. Frozen. Now willing to try once more.
My breath was shallow and I saw the rise of my chest as Shane’s head lowered toward mine. I knew then that I wanted to feel his lips on mine, wanted to taste the sweetness of his tongue in my mouth, needed to get lost in his arms. He brushed his fingerti
ps along my jawline and I felt a simultaneous shiver travel down my spine, causing me to arch my back almost imperceptibly. As I took in another light breath, his fingers moved so that he cupped the back of my neck, his thumb touching the bottom of my ear, and the wetness in my panties told me how badly I wanted this man. I felt my lips part in anticipation of tasting him and I blinked once before closing my eyes.
That soft, sweet, slow, gentle kiss made my entire body feel like it was full of tiny bubbles, like I was brewing and ready to overflow. In essence, I was. Something inside was building, and this time, it felt like more than just the animalistic, lustful side of myself. This time, it felt like my heart and soul were completely committed too. Through that kiss, through my hands that began to slide up first his chest and then down his back, I was communicating something deeper, something that meant more than just a tawdry hop in the sack.
Oh, I wanted him, yes, but it wasn’t just a one-time thing anymore. It was more.
After a few seconds, I didn’t even think about where we were, because it felt as if time had stood still, as if the earth had stopped rotating on its axis just for these few moments we were together, and I felt the emotions and desire grow strong inside as they found their way through my kiss. In mere seconds, our kissing had become furious and passionate, needy and impatient. Shane slid the red strap of my bra down my shoulder and his fingers tickled my skin as he pulled the cup down with aching slowness while his lips touched my neck. But then he cupped my breast and flicked the nipple with his tongue, forcing a slow moan out of my mouth.
Yes, I was ready and I was ready now. How the hell had that happened so fast? I wanted—needed—to feel him inside me. Trailing my hands down his body, they met at the button on his jeans and I pulled it apart and drew the zipper down before working my way inside. It was hot in that little space and my hand could feel how electric and alive it was, his cock throbbing as if to the rhythm of pounding bass beat. I sensed that his urgency was in tune with mine, the need to join, the urge to be together and communicate without words, to say all the things we couldn’t find the phrases for, to feel a deeper emotion than what we’d expressed with our eyes and mouths.
The way his breathing changed told me he was as desperate as I, and he licked my cleavage before tracing a path back up my chest and neck and kissing me hard. My pussy was clenching against nothing but itself, yearning for him to fill me to capacity. Just as he’d done our first time together, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet to find a condom. It wasn’t long before he was rolling it up his length and I pulled my panties down in expectation.
The look in his eyes nearly wrecked me. Not only did they reflect his unbridled desire, but underneath that seemed to be a current of what I too was feeling deep down—something more, something lasting, one of connection, one that would be there long after our foreheads cooled and our hearts slowed. It accentuated not the ache between my legs but the one in my heart, the tiny hole there I hadn’t recognized till just that moment. My feelings for this man could fit inside that space, expand to overfill, and take over…and I knew that would be just fine. So when, a moment later, he entered me, causing me to shudder and moan and spread my legs as wide as they could go, I felt more than the animal inside. I felt a part of me awaken, something I hadn’t known was there, a foreign emotion that I knew would blossom as time went on.
He drove into me, satisfying my deep need for release, and with each wave, I experienced more—love, a need to connect, a yearning to know this man’s mind in addition to his beautiful body. As he continued to drive into me, I felt my senses heighten as my breathing quickened, but just as I felt my brain get ready to let it all go, I remembered where we were and fought against my innate desire to sing aloud. As my body shuddered and rejoiced in the sensation of pure pleasure, I managed to keep my mouth shut so that it let out low moans in my throat, still signaling to Shane that I was experiencing heaven but so that Greg and his visitor would have no idea what was transpiring in the bowels of the studio.
Coming to my senses, I realized Shane was experiencing his own climax as his undulations slowed. His hips were now in the vice created by my legs, fitting perfectly in that space, symbolizing to me that we were meant to be together—not just for the moment but for much longer.
Shane’s forehead rested on mine but his eyes were closed as the pace of his breathing neared normal. Unable to resist, I brushed my fingertips on his jaw, the emotions inside me boiling over, threatening to consume us both. This tiny act of affection I thought could keep those feelings at bay, if just for a moment.
He opened his eyes and what a relief for me to see that he seemed to be experiencing the same overwhelming emotion that I did. Gone was the studio, the shitty world outside, the mistakes we’d both made. All that mattered was here and now, him and me. Us. Bringing his lips to mine, we kissed, and it felt like his way of telling me that we were one now, that whatever happened from this point forward, we’d do together. I wound my fingers through the hair on the back of his head as I let myself swim in those waters, allowed myself to drown in those emotions, because I could no longer fight them.
“Wow.”
“Yeah.” He gave me a tiny affectionate kiss on the nose before relaxing his grip on me, helping my feet settle on the floor. “Guess we better get dressed before Greg comes looking for us.”
I nodded, pulling my bra strap up over my shoulder. It seemed surreal the way we dressed in that quiet cavern and made our way to the lobby together a few minutes later. Greg was still chatting with someone in his office, but he saw us and excused himself for a moment.
“Great shoot, guys,” he said, pulling a wad of cash out of his pants pocket and counting off several hundred dollar bills to first me and then Shane. A tiny part of me felt satisfaction that we were both paid equally, in spite of the fact that Shane was now a “star” in our tiny modeling community. I wouldn’t have balked had it been otherwise, but it was gratifying nonetheless.
As we walked toward the front door so Greg could return to his meeting, part of me wanted to grab Shane’s hand. But it felt too soon. It still didn’t seem real.
In retrospect, I was relieved that I hadn’t. He held the door for me and I walked through, still experiencing that floaty feeling inside, and I melted when he draped an arm over my shoulders. I leaned into his body, mirroring him by wrapping an arm around his waist, and he asked, “Where’s your car?”
“Around the corner.”
We paused once we got there and he gave me a soul-crushing kiss, his hands cupping my cheeks. But suddenly something didn’t feel quite right.
“Ivy, this was nice…”
The thud of my heart hitting the sidewalk told me to wake up, to pay attention and stop acting dreamy. “But?”
The relief I saw flood his eyes confirmed what I was feeling in the pit of my gut. “I don’t think I told you I had an agent.” I wanted to ask what the hell that had to do with anything, but I focused on breathing…just breathing. “She wants me to move to New York.”
I managed to repeat his words. “New York?”
“Yeah—that’s where the work is. If I’m gonna make this a career, I need to be where the big jobs are. She suggested a couple of other places but, really, New York is the place.” He must have seen how badly I wanted to object, because he added, “I can’t do the business thing, Ivy. It’s not in my blood. This, though? This I can do.”
I wanted to ask him how many other models he’d fucked…because he was fucking me right now. But instead I just let the world fall away from me as I realized I had to let this man go, just as I’d realized he was probably the only man for me.
Maybe I was destined to be alone. I just couldn’t believe he was dumping me before we’d even officially gotten together. Unbelievable.
PART THREE
THEY SAY TIME heals all wounds, but I was beginning to think I had one of those stubborn ones that refused to scab over. Dumb, yeah, but Shane had somehow pierced m
y heart. A lot of people seem to think that just because you’re perceived as “super smart”—after all, I’d been going to school for most of my life and all of my adult life thus far—you can rationalize just about anything, including your emotions. But that’s so not true. I mean I knew my emotions around Shane shouldn’t run that deep—because, truthfully, we barely knew each other, had spent very little time together—but they did. Being intelligent made me accept the facts for what they were.
But my intelligence couldn’t help me figure out how to let him go. My heart and my head couldn’t help each other.
What made it worse was when that November I saw that he’d made it. And the way he’d done it made it seem easy, because he hadn’t spent a lot of time doing it before getting all the jobs he could have ever wanted. There was something charismatic about Shane, and photographers loved trying to capture that je ne sais quoi that made him remarkable.
It was still fairly early in the morning that cold day late fall, and I was working at the coffee shop. The place was full of some of our regulars—a group of retirees who liked to gather, drink “normal” coffee, and gab about everything they thought was wrong with our fair city—but we also had a lot of folks who didn’t usually frequent our establishment, probably because the falling snow prevented little more than shopping or hunkering down. Drinking coffee to fuel up before said shopping trip would help those souls brave the cold and snow.
We’d finally hit a lull, though, those few moments after breakfast had been served and all the business folks had picked up their lattes before heading to their first meeting of the day, and I would be leaving in half an hour after my replacement had arrived. All the older guys with plain coffee had gotten their refills and the waitresses were busy delivering checks and retrieving dirty dishes. I’d wiped the counter and done other cleaning and just happened to glance up at the widescreen TV hanging on the wall at a diagonal from where I stood. Most times, I barely even noticed it was there, because it was usually turned to a twenty-four hour news network, and if I tuned in for even five minutes, just reading the scrolling bar at the bottom and the various changing banners, with or without the din of the coffee crowd, I’d get a feel for the news of the day.
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