by Gina Watson
Plain white canvases stacked several deep leaned against the walls. Several easels with canvases were setup—two were painted solid black. One canvas had a white horse painted in the center. The ghostly white was such a stark contrast against the black that it gave the horse an ephemeral quality. Given his use of shading and light, the hair on the long, muscular neck of the horse seemed to blow.
She felt Gabe’s presence behind her. “I want to capture a woman whose ethereal beauty belies that of the horse. I’ve seen her once before—in my dreams. It was a blonde woman with hair the same color as the horse. You remind me of the woman from my dream.”
She smiled.
“She stood there”—he pointed to the canvas—“her hair waved with the wind and her breasts swayed as she walked toward me. I need to recreate this beauty. I’ve got several canvases that are in desperate need of her.”
“You said we’d discuss a contract?”
“Right.” He walked over to a tall standing desk and clicked the keyboard.”
“I can draw up a contract right now. What is your hourly rate for sitting?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never done this before.”
“Zach mentioned five hundred dollars.”
She’d hoped to make a bit more than that. “How many hours do you think it will take?”
“There’s no way to know. When are you free?”
She could foreseeably spend sixteen hours per week at the studio. Would he need that many? “I can give you sixteen hours per week.”
“Shall I pay you one thousand dollars per week then?”
That was good and almost double what she made at the school working for Maximilian von Doodoo. She’d have her money to pay the New York bill in less than five weeks—if the job lasted that long. Looking around the room she observed the many canvases that displayed nude women. They were all depicted in extremely provocative and intimate poses. If she were going to be giving him that, she’d need to be compensated. “One thousand per week is good, but I need at least eight weeks of work.”
“Would you like me to add that to the contract, that the position is to last at least eight weeks?”
“That’d be wonderful for me.”
“Done. How do you spell your name?”
“C—A—R—A. Presley.”
While the contract printed he pulled a white leather-covered chaise across to the middle of the room. “And you’ll let me take some stills?”
“Yeah, I’ll give it a shot.”
“Take your hair down and your glasses off.”
Oh! They were doing it now. She pulled the band, effectively loosening a torrent of hair. She finger combed her mane, but could tell by touch that it was no use. “I only ran a brush through it. I guess I should have straightened it.” She continued to frantically swat at the loose pieces.
“It’s perfect.” He walked up to her and arranged it around her face. With his fingertips on her chin he lifted her face into the light. He turned her head to the right, and then to the left. She really was like a bowl of fruit that he would stage to suit. He was particularly handsome. Before today she’d only ever seen eyes the color of emeralds on Max, but Zach and Gabe both had deep emerald eyes. “Did you want me to put on makeup? I may have some lipstick.”
“No. Take off your clothes,” he ordered.
“What?”
He pointed somewhere behind her. “There’s a robe on the hook.”
“Am I posing nude?”
“Is that a problem for you?”
“N-no.” She’d planned on it, but now was more than a little nervous.
She watched as he dug through canvases that leaned against the wall. “Just so you know…I’m wanting some rather provocative poses.” He turned the canvases attached to each hand and she gasped.
The pictures weren’t designed to be dirty. Instead, they captured the beauty of the female form. He used all of the female body to accomplish his goal. The women were posed in natural positions that exposed their bodies in the most primal way.
“Are you comfortable posing like this?”
Normally she would have said no, but the canvases he’d shown her told her how he viewed the female form. He worshipped women. He didn’t abuse or objectify. She felt comfortable with him and he’d already proved that he was nothing but professional. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I can do it.”
He pointed to the hook once again. “Robe’s on the hook.”
There was a trifold screen set up, which she thought silly. Why the need for modesty when changing? At any rate, she ducked behind the screen and removed her clothes, and then slid into the white plush robe that smelled freshly laundered.
She walked out and stood near the chaise. He’d set up a camera. Looking through the viewfinder he said, “Take off the robe.”
“I’m uh…” God this was humiliating. “I’m sort of bloated.”
Without looking up from the camera he said, “That’s not a problem for me.”
She took a deep breath, untied the sash, pulled the robe slowly apart, and let it fall to the floor. She stared into the camera. For several minutes Gabriel looked at her through the camera’s lens. This went on for several seconds and she started to get nervous.
“Is something wrong?”
He didn’t answer her, but walked to the chaise and turned it so that it was parallel in the room and the camera stood at the end on a tripod.
“Get on your knees.” He patted the chaise. She stood on her knees facing the camera. “Turn around.” She turned so that now her backside faced the camera, but still stood on her knees. His hand on her back guided her down to the chaise so that she was prone. “Look back over your left shoulder.” He went to look through the camera. “Now get up on your elbows and twist at the waist.”
He walked back to her on the bench. “May I touch you for positioning?”
“Um…yeah.”
He twisted her more and pulled her boob free. Then he slid his arm under her hips, hoisting her up while he pushed her knees in toward her chest. With the added elevation, she instantly felt the breeze over her exposed vagina…and he was so close to it, staring at it. “I didn’t…uh…shave or anything.”
“Not necessary.”
Well, she wasn’t very hairy and the hair she did have was short and white-blonde. She’d never been exposed to anyone before. It was kind of a turn on that it was for him. He was quite something to look at. Almost as sexy as her former boss. For a moment she felt the sadness sting her throat at the loss of their connection. She missed him and to be fair, there wasn’t a man on earth she thought more dashingly handsome than Max, but Gabriel was a close second in his fitted and faded jeans and threadbare white T-shirt. His feet were bare and ultra sexy. Whenever he came close she smelled mint from the gum he chewed. The action worked his sharply cut jaw.
Holy shit! No, she’d never had sex, but she could recognize when a man was erect and even through his jeans she could tell Gabriel sported a hard on. He still made adjustments to her limbs, his body close.
He stepped back and checked his work. He made another adjustment this time to her face, turning her chin down and out. His crotch was so close. She tried to keep her composure, but when his gaze met hers, her eyes went wide.
He froze, and then looked down to what had her uncomfortable. “Sorry about the erection. Occupational hazard.”
He walked back to the camera. Cara had prided herself on the fact that she didn’t let men objectify her body. She still felt that was true…Gabriel’s paintings were beautiful. Why then was she turned on by the knowledge that the sight of her spread naked body gave him an erection?
Finally he started to take shots. “Look into the camera.” She looked down her body until she met the tripod and looked up. “Pretend you’re exposing yourself for your lover. Move your hips. Entice him.”
She complied and he took shots. The whole process was highly erotic, but she felt comfortable with him. She also felt extremely turned on.<
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“Spread you knees wide and keep looking at me.”
The sound of separating wet flesh instantly heated her cheeks. She was past the brink of turned on and about to go off like a rocket. Embarrassing, but Gabriel didn’t seem to notice. Or if he did, he didn’t care, he just kept taking shots.
“Will you touch yourself? Just set your index and middle fingers on your folds. You don’t need to masturbate.”
His taboo words shot straight to her sex. She was primed and ready to come. God, she wanted to masturbate and she wanted to do it in front of him.
“Hey Gabe, I need you to move your car.”
When her fingers connected with her sex she closed her eyes and moaned. Startled at the sound that emitted from her throat, she opened her eyes, her gaze connecting with the piercing green lasers of Maximilian von Doodoo.
She jerked, rolling off the chaise and onto her bottom on the floor. “Fuck.” Her sexual tension had been instantly extinguished. Max squatted to lift her from the floor. She attempted to cover herself, but he held her wrists and stared hotly at her.
She saw his Adam’s apple bob in his neck and heard the audible swallow he made. “What are you doing here?” His voice was hoarse, but soft.
“I’m modeling for Gabriel.” She pulled her wrists, but his hold held strong. “Will you please let go of me?” He dropped her arms and she bent to pick the robe up from the floor, and then shrugged into it. “Why are you here, Mr. David?”
“Gabe is my brother,” he huffed.
His brother. Of course...Zach must be one of them too. Max paced the room, rubbing his fingers on the back of his head. Back and forth he walked. Finally he stopped and said, “You can’t model for him.”
She looked around for Gabriel, but he’d left the loft. “I can and I will. You can’t tell me what to do.”
“The hell I can’t! This is my house. Now put your fucking clothes on and leave.”
“No! I will not.” She wasn’t about to let this bastard be the cause of her losing yet another job.
“I said I want you off of my property. Now get dressed, or you can wear the robe out.”
“No. Please. I’ve put up with your bullshit for six years. Why do you hate me so much? What can I do? Please, I really need the money from this job.”
She sat on the chaise and covered her eyes with her hands, crying. Her New York plans were fading fast and if she couldn’t find a way to bring their color back, her dreams would be erased forever.
***
Max couldn’t believe it. He’d thought of nothing but her since the day she told him her name was ‘Cara not fucking Clara’. He’d tried to make contact with her and had been desperate to find her.
When he walked into the loft and saw her lying exposed across the chaise he’d thought his mind had created the situation, using the thing he’d wanted most like a mirage.
His brain sizzled with the image of her fresh cunt so ripe and swollen and natural. The pink folds beckoned to him the way the sticky stamen of a rose attracts a hummingbird. His fists closed around his head and he squeezed, hoping to dislodge the images from his mind. When some semblance of sanity had returned, he heard her sniffles and light cries punctuate the otherwise silent room.
He walked over and sat next to her on the bench.
“Cara?”
She sniffled a few more times. “What?”
“I don’t hate you.”
She chuckled once. “Oh well, that’s wonderful.”
She swiped at her tears. “I don’t. And you’re absolutely right. You’ve put up with my bullshit for six years. The office hasn’t been the same since you’ve been gone. I’d like for you to come back.” She still wouldn’t look at him. He didn’t know how to do this. What did she want to hear from him? An apology? “I’m sorry for…everything. Money and power create so many illusions. They mask the unacceptable, making it appear within what is deemed acceptable. You were right about role models too. The students need to be surrounded by those who are going to show them what’s right and what’s not when it comes to business ethics and even life. I’m not going to accept Ed Koch’s donation to the university.” He laughed nervously. “I may get fired, but I’m going to fight it. I’m sorry Cara.” He stroked her hair. “For six years I’ve ignored you when what I should have been doing is soaking up your goodness and vigor for life.” He sighed. “I’m also going to have Zach remove his porn studio from my house.” Next to him she was silent, but at least she wasn’t crying. “I sound like such an ass. How did you ever put up with me? I’m so sorry.”
His heartfelt admission had her chin quivering as she looked into his eyes. “Thank you, Mr. David.”
Two tears rolled down her cheeks and he wiped then away with his thumbs. “Don’t cry now.” She nodded and smiled. “Hey, I was wondering if you are still working on that Angel Chariot cause you asked me about a few months back?”
“Oh…well”—she shrugged—“I am, but you were right…the ambulance companies didn’t want to worry with the liability. I was able to get the city to provide transport for people with disabilities, but only if they have an opening on one of the vans.”
“I was an idiot. I want to help you build that program.” She’d come to him with a well-executed proposal. She’d even had a power point presentation, but he’d shot down her idea. It had been a wonderful idea to make the community more accessible to the disabled elderly. He’d made up some bullshit about liability issues just to get her off the subject.
“To date, twenty one visits to the local libraries have been made by otherwise homebound elderly.”
“Let’s see if we can’t increase those numbers. Will you plan to meet with me about it on Monday?”
“Okay.”
“Hey, Cara?” She looked at him expectantly. “If you need to store more books for the prisons in the office, you have my blessing.”
She laughed from her belly. Boisterous and honest, and completely unladylike, but he loved it. “It was a ridiculous amount of books, wasn’t it?”
“It was. I was such an asshole to you. Can you ever forgive me?”
“You weren’t.” She twisted her lips, “Okay you were, but you made up for it by sponsoring the music course development at the orphanage. And you mentored Marcus…you’re all he talks about.”
“Those are all things you forced me to do. I wouldn’t be involved in any of them if you hadn’t coerced me into them.”
“It doesn’t diminish the fact that you did them. You could have been quite angry, but you never were. I knew you were inherently good.”
“Will you come back to work?”
“I will.”
The space between them closed until their lips were on one another. He had confirmation that the plush pink lips on her mouth mirrored the plush pink lips on her sweet cunt. He was so hard he’d been leaking in his trousers. He hadn’t done that since his teenage years.
As his lips massaged hers, he wondered how their taste would differ from the taste of her down below. He longed to lave his tongue against the exposed petals he’d seen. Their kiss was sensuous and soft, the pace was slow and savored. When they pulled apart they stayed so close that he felt her breath on the now wet skin of his lips. “You said you need money. I’m going to be giving you a large raise. Does that make you able to quit this modeling?” He gestured at an easel.
She looked around the room. “I don’t know. I was kind of enjoying it.”
“Are you attracted to him?”
“No, I was…”
“You were what?”
“I was actually thinking about you.”
His cock twitched. “Were you masturbating?”
Her mouth opened on a heavy exhale. “He told me not to, but I wanted to.”
“Do you still want to?”
“I don’t know. I’m a little embarrassed. I was nervous before, but his commands made me”—she bit her lip. He suspected she didn’t know how to express what she wanted to say.
“Your nerves and embarrassment were overcome by your desire?”
Her blue eyes flashed at him. “Yeah, I guess that’s it. He also was telling me what to do and I didn’t have to think about anything, and that was a nice change.”
She was fucking perfect!
“Ah!” she cried, I really can’t believe I’m telling you all of this.” Cara stood and walked to gather her clothes, slipping behind the screen to dress.
Gabriel returned. His intensity was palpable. “Everything okay now?”
“It is,” Max answered.
Cara emerged from behind the screen.
“Please tell me you can come back tomorrow. I need to paint you,” Gabriel pleaded.
“Yeah, I’ll be here at eight o’clock.”
Gabriel’s pent up anxiety abated instantly. “Perfect.”
Over his dead body! “Cara, would you like to get some coffee?” Max asked.
“I need to be getting back.”
“It’s just one cup. Please.” Max rested an open palm on his chest.
“Okay.” She bent to retrieve her old messenger bag from the floor.
She followed him down the stairs and he led her through the back door to avoid Zach’s shenanigans.
“Your house is beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Max fidgeted with the keys in his pocket. “Hey, I’d like to get out of here for a little while. I know a great little coffee shop. Will you accompany me?”
She nodded and he led her out to the Stingray. A gentleman always, he held the door open for her, and then he loaded himself into the car. He reached for his Wayfarers, buckled his seatbelt, and then started the engine.
“This is a great car.” Her fingers massaged the leather on the door. Hey, You live along Pease Bayou.” She pointed.
“That’s right.”
“I run about four mornings a week along the track there.”
His foot was no longer under his control and the breaks were slammed on, halting their progress down the drive. “Around five-thirty?”
“Yeah.”
Of course it was her. Visions of her bare breasts and ass from earlier pelted his brain. He looked over at her in the passenger’s seat. She’d pulled her blonde hair back. How could he have been such a fool? He’d wasted six years. “I run there too.”