by Penelope Sky
So she would know how perfect she looked in my lingerie.
Her tits were perky and beautiful in the push-up bra. Her ass was tight and bubbly in the thong. When she held the right posture, she was more dazzling than any queen that ever lived. Unlike the other women in my world, she was completely real. She didn’t care about my money or my lingerie.
It made her more hypnotic.
And it made me love my job even more.
I left the building in jeans and a t-shirt and headed down the street to Club Lingerie. Carter was there, and that was the usual place we discussed business because I had eyes and ears all over the place. It was full of beautiful women, and little did they know they acted as a distraction. No man got inside without being thoroughly vetted by security.
I turned the corner and walked under the street lamps. Groups of girls passed in their finest, ready to go out on the town. Milan was a city that never slept. Cafés were open late, and bars never seemed to close. Sometimes people recognized me, but most of the time, they didn’t.
I preferred it when they didn’t.
My brain returned to thinking about the newest model who had completely changed my show. She changed the lineup, the outfits, and even me. Just a month ago, my life was predictable and boring. But then I was told some woman auditioned in jeans and a t-shirt—and requested to do anything besides model.
It was the strangest thing I’d ever heard.
I was thinking about her so much that I imagined the woman coming toward me was her. Her brown hair was pulled over one shoulder, and she was in a blue sundress with her purse over the other shoulder. When I came closer, her head lifted and she looked right at me.
Her eyes were the same color blue.
I started to wonder if this wasn’t my lustful imagination. I’d been thinking about her constantly since I tasted her skin, so I imagined her everywhere—including my bed. But now that I was close to this woman, I was certain it was her.
She stopped in front of me, carrying a plastic bag that contained her laundry. Her bright blue eyes met mine with their usual confidence, and she showed her sweet smile. But the slight tint to her cheeks told me that my kisses were still on her mind. “Conway.”
I liked the way my name rolled off her tongue. “Ten.” I stopped in front of her, but I invaded her space far more than a stranger would. It was impossible for me to stay even three feet away from her. I had to be up close and personal. I felt like I owned her—not just because she was on my payroll and modeled my lingerie. “What are you doing this evening?”
“The washing service at the hotel is steep, so I take my clothes to this place.”
I couldn’t stop pitying her circumstances. I wanted to write her a fat check and make all of her problems go away. With anyone else, I wouldn’t give a damn. I wasn’t sure why I gave a damn about her. In my culture, beautiful women should always be taken care of. There should be a man to provide for her, to take care of her.
But she was all alone.
In reality, I was all she had.
“Have dinner with me.”
“Right now?” she asked incredulously.
“Yes.” The plans I had for the night seemed irrelevant now. I couldn’t care less about Carter and Club Lingerie.
“It seemed like you were going somewhere.”
“Doesn’t matter anymore. Let’s go.” My hand went to the small of her back, my favorite place to touch, and I guided her forward. My fingers automatically squeezed the fabric of her dress as I pictured her bare skin. I’d seen that gorgeous ass in many thongs, and now I wanted nothing more than to pull that thong down her beautiful legs.
And bury my cock in that gorgeous pussy.
“You never asked if I wanted to go.”
“You’re right.” I kept moving forward. “And I’m not going to.”
We arrived at a small café, a place I’d been to a few times for lunch. We were given a table on the patio where no one else was seated. The staff must have recognized me and wanted to give me my space.
Ten sat across from me with perfect posture. She must have taken my words to heart and held herself like people were constantly watching and judging. She didn’t wear makeup that evening, and her hair didn’t have the same volume as it did at the studio.
But I liked it.
It was just her and me. We weren’t working, just having dinner together. And I wanted to have dinner with the woman, not the model.
But I still wanted her as much as I had yesterday.
She looked at the menu then ran her fingers through her hair. She didn’t realize it, but she was naturally sexy without even trying. She bit her bottom lip when she was thinking, and the angles of her face looked perfect as the sun set in the distance. The blue dress she’d chosen was a perfect complement to her skin tone. When I photographed her for my lingerie line, maybe I would photograph her just like this—natural.
I didn’t look at my menu because I was more interested in looking at her.
When she felt my ongoing stare, she finally lifted her gaze to meet mine. Fearless and confident, she held my gaze. Not too many women could withstand my attention so securely. When she stood on that stage with the nine other models, she knew I was staring at her. Her gaze stayed on mine, but in response, she straightened and tightened, as if preparing for war. She wasn’t the kind of woman that backed down. But since she was so strong, why was she running?
Or did that mean she had a serious enemy?
She continued to stare at me. “I can do this as long as you can.”
“Good. I enjoy looking at you.” I rested my elbows on the table and leaned forward, getting a better look at her. “Your blue eyes…phenomenal. The way your cheeks curve…unique. Your plump lips look amazing with that smile. You have the kind of face a painter dreams of.” Everything from her eyebrows to her chin was beautiful. Every woman had beautiful characteristics that made them wonderful. But Ten had all of them. “And I haven’t even mentioned your body yet.”
“Are you saying this as an artist? Or a man?”
Art and sexuality were one and the same for me. “Both.”
The waiter approached our table, slicing through the intensity. Ten ordered, and I picked something at random off the menu. He brought two glasses of water along with a bottle of wine. Once the bottle was poured, we were alone again.
She sipped her wine then licked her lips. “That’s good.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
She swirled her glass before she looked at the label on the bottle. “Barsetti Vineyards…” Her eyes turned back to me, narrowing in interest. “You own a winery too?”
“No. My family does.”
“Your family?” she asked. “They live in Italy?”
“My parents are just outside of Florence. So are my aunt and uncle.”
“Oh…that’s nice. How far away is that?”
“A five-hour drive.”
“The wine is incredible. They must know what they’re doing.”
“My father started making wine almost forty years ago. It’s become a family business. We have wineries all over Tuscany now.”
“I probably would know that if I drank more wine. I’m more of a hard liquor kinda girl.”
And I liked that about her. “We acquire new tastes as we age…and travel.”
“Are you close with your family?”
I had no problem answering her questions, but I wanted something in return. “I’ll share my life with you. But I want you to share yours with me.”
She looked at her wine and chuckled. “So much for having a normal conversation…”
“We could have a normal conversation—if you allowed us to. There’s no reason to hide anything from me. If I were going to turn you in, I would have done it already. The more I look at you, the more I want to keep you. Because of you, my sales will skyrocket. I can make something beautiful, but I need a beautiful woman to make it extraordinary.”
She swirled her wine
and took another drink. “Are you close with your family?”
“Very. Family is everything in my culture.”
“They must be proud of you.”
My father always taught me to be a man who could stand on my own two feet. He said I could inherit his wineries when he passed away, but he didn’t want me to rely on it. So I pursued a dream. “They are. They are both open-minded about it, but it’s also a little awkward.”
“Because you design sex clothes?”
“Because I design the right clothes that make women feel sexy…which gives men the best sex of their lives. I wouldn’t be good at what I do if I didn’t understand my work on a very personal level. That’s what makes it awkward…so we don’t go into detail about what I do.”
“Understandable.”
“What were you going to school for?”
“Business.”
“And what did you want to do with that?”
“Human resources or marketing.”
I could see her in that role. She had the right confidence for it. She could run an office without breaking her stride. “Did you finish your education?”
“No. I completed two years before I dropped out.”
“Do you plan to finish?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’ll never go back to America.”
I stared at her harder, hoping she would tell me the reason she was on the run.
When she looked away, I knew she wasn’t going to give anything up.
I was annoyed she refused to confide in me, even though she didn’t owe me anything. “Do you have a cell phone?”
She obviously hadn’t expected me to ask that because her eyes widened in surprise. “No, I don’t.”
“Why?”
“I have to give up personal information to get a phone. I can’t do that.”
This beautiful woman was all alone in another country, and she didn’t have a phone…it was ludicrous. “I’ll get one for you. It’ll be a company phone.”
“You’ve done enough for me, Conway. Don’t worry about it.”
“It’s not safe not having a phone. I’m getting you one, and that’s the end of the discussion.”
“You can take the cost out of my paycheck.”
I wasn’t taking anything from her.
“Has Lacey said anything to you?”
“No. She’s avoiding me right now.”
“I hope she comes around…”
“Couldn’t care less if she does. I’ll replace her with someone else in a heartbeat.”
“She’s a face of your brand. If she went to some other company—”
“It would be a step down, and she wouldn’t get paid as much. She’s a very prideful woman, so she won’t take that route.”
She leaned against the back of the chair but still kept her back perfectly straight. Her shoulders looked nice under the hot sun. She didn’t even need a spray-on tan because her skin was so beautiful. She glowed with her own light.
The only thing I would change was her outfit.
I’d have her wear my diamond lingerie. “Tell me your first name.”
She took a quick breath at the question but kept the confidence in her eyes.
“It doesn’t feel right calling you Ten, especially when you’re my number one. So let me call you something else.”
“Call me whatever you want.”
If we were alone together, I’d grab her by the neck and press her against the wall. My jaw clenched in response, and I narrowed my eyes in displeasure.
“Then call me One.”
“You deserve a better name than that. I don’t understand why you won’t tell me.”
“I don’t understand why you care.”
“You’ve inspired me more than any other woman. We have a connection—you feel it too.”
She kept up her rigidity.
“I want to know who you really are.”
“You’ve done a lot for me, and I appreciate it. You even seem like a good man. But I have too much at stake…I can’t afford to give my name. I can’t leave a trail. When you hired me, I was up front about it. You said you were okay with this. And now you’re going back on your word.”
“I’m not going back on my word. I just want to know you.”
“You do know me, Conway. You know me now, and you know my future. But you don’t know my past—and I want it to stay that way. It’s the only way I’ll live to see another day.”
Live to see another day? Who the fuck was she running from? “I can help you. I’m the most powerful man in the world—”
“One of the most powerful,” she corrected. “There are stronger and crueler men out there.”
Now my heart was racing in my chest. I feared for this woman’s life when I hardly knew her. She’d become the key to my recent inspiration. She lit me on fire in a way no other woman had. Now my fingers ached to sketch, my mind burned to produce even more. None of that would have been possible without her. I couldn’t afford to lose her. “I can’t help you if you don’t trust me.”
“And I don’t trust you—no offense.”
I held her gaze and felt my anger burn in my veins. I recognized a woman in trouble, but if she refused to share even her first name with me, how would I be able to protect her? Maybe she thought I was just a lingerie designer, but I had more ties to the underworld than she realized. I knew more people than she realized. I had the money and resources to make anything happen.
And I would make something happen.
* * *
“Where were you?” Carter asked over the phone.
“Got held up.”
“Fell into some pussy, then.”
“You could say that.” I vowed never to fuck my models, but One was making it difficult to keep my promise.
“What do you want?”
“One of my models won’t give me her real name. She’s got a dark past, and she’s running from something. I’ve given her plenty of opportunities to confide in me, but she’s more stubborn than I am.”
“Annoying, isn’t it?”
I ignored the comment. “I need you to figure out who she is.”
“What do you know about her?”
“What she looks like. And that she’s from America.” I sat on the edge of my bed, pissed off One refused to cooperate with me and hot and bothered that she was so stubborn. I liked the fight inside her. I couldn’t explain why.
“Got a picture?”
“No. Come by my studio tomorrow. She’ll be there preparing for the show. You can get a picture then.”
“Alright. You think she’s running from the feds?”
“I’m not sure. The way she describes it makes it sound like she’s running for her life.”
“Hmm…there’re a lot of crazy people out there.”
“So, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I’ll be there.”
“Alright. Bye.”
“Con.”
“What?”
“Vanessa wanted me to tell you she’s pissed at you.”
I spied on her dinner and even followed her home. It was the wrong thing to do, but I’d done it so many times now that I thought I could keep getting away with—unless she caught me. “I know.”
* * *
The girls weren’t happy about my decision to put One in the lead.
And they didn’t hide their distaste.
We were done with the full show run-through already, going through the first nine acts with the music. The girls knew the ropes, so they always hit their marks perfectly. I incorporated Anastasia in the first act, and I put her in the back. No one would even notice her, but she had enough presence to fulfill my backstory.
When we reached the last act, One emerged on her own. The entire stage was hers, and she held herself exactly the way I taught her. That fire I adored wasn’t quite there because she seemed nervous. The other girls probably intimidated her, talking shit about her once they were backstage.
One did
n’t seem like a woman who would care, but a person could only take so much.
She did her walk, her pose, and then walked the rest of the runway. She wore shoes that were worth a hundred grand, and her lingerie was worth twice that much. It was my final piece, the one that only the wealthiest men in the world would buy for their mistresses. The acts increased in price, the beginning being the cheapest ensembles and the end being the most expensive. Usually, the best model ended the show.
And One was the best model.
She posed at the end, doing her very best to incorporate everything I asked.
But it wasn’t quite perfect.
Carter came to my side and whistled under his breath. “Jesus Fucking Christ.” He held up his phone and snapped a few photos of her. “With legs like that, she could run forever.”
“I’ll dump your body in the river if you keep talking like that.”
He snapped another picture then chuckled. “Hit a nerve?”
I ignored him, watching One turn around and walk back.
Her ass was exposed, and it was the nicest ass in the world.
Carter held up his phone again.
I snatched it away. “Don’t fuck with me today.”
He rolled his eyes and extended his hand. “If you can’t handle me looking at this woman, how are you going to handle the entire world looking at her?”
It was a thought I’d never considered because I’d never had an attachment to one of my models. Men talked about fucking Lacey Lockwood right in front of me, and I never gave a damn. I’d had men jerk off to the women in my lineup. Didn’t think twice about it. But the second Carter tried to take a picture of her ass, I wasn’t having it. “Just get me that information as soon as possible.”
10
Conway
The night of the show was chaotic.
There were cameras everywhere, magazine editors networking with other editors in the business. Distributors tried to get my attention, but I walked off to another person I needed to greet. Lights flashed in my face as reporters kept snapping my picture.