by Dawson, Zoe
“Not of him—of how he’ll react.”
“To what?” I prodded. “What deep dark secret do you have?” I smiled with encouragement.
“I don’t have parents, not like you and Travis. I don’t have any family. I was in foster care until I was twelve, when my foster father put the moves on me. I got away from him and ran. I lived on the streets.”
I wiped at her tears with my thumb and shrugged. “A lot of people have a hard childhood. Tell him. He won’t care.”
“You don’t understand.” She gripped my wrist hard. “That’s not all of it.”
“Emmie. You don’t have to tell me. Tell Travis. Take the chance. I know he will support you.”
“You have no doubts, do you?”
“No, he’s a good friend, a great guy. Take the chance.”
She shook her head and got up, and this time I didn’t try to stop her. “His life is so perfect, and mine is so flawed. I can’t, Deke.”
She turned and walked away, and I felt bad for both of them. But I couldn’t solve their problems. I couldn’t even solve my own. I had another shoot, so as soon as I finished my homework, I got ready to go out. I didn’t have the heart to tell Travis I had seen Emmie. He didn’t say much, just kept his eyes glued to his books.
“I’m headed out for another job.”
He nodded without looking up.
“Travis.” He met my eyes. “She’ll come around. Give her some time.”
“She won’t talk to me. I’ve tried. I don’t know what happened. I just want her to come back to me.”
“I know. Listen, after this shoot we’ll go out and do something. Get out of this room.”
“I don’t feel like it, Deke, but thanks.”
I took the subway to the studio, and when I arrived I saw it was set up for a swimsuit shot. I was already bracing myself. The dissatisfaction I was feeling surged.
“Hello, Deke. You’re early.” Minnie’s creative director, Susan, greeted me. I smiled back at her and she sighed.
“Stuff is in the back on the rack near the door.”
I nodded and stopped dead. Minnie was there, talking to the photographer. She looked great, dressed in a black miniskirt and a pink top. Her hair was loose around her shoulders.
Some guy was being photographed, and I had arrived at the tail end of his shoot. Minnie saw me and smiled. I couldn’t get enough of that genuine warmth.
She left the photographer and walked over to me. “Deke,” she said, and I took her hand and brought it to my mouth.
“Minnie. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“I was late leaving.” She scolded me with her eyes for showing even this much affection in public, but I didn’t care. I wanted to shout to the rooftops that she was mine.
I nodded, disappointed that she hadn’t been waiting for me.
“Let me show you where you need to go,” she said.
She led the way through the studio, leaving me to tag along behind her, eyes riveted on the form-fitting miniskirt, the languid movement of her feet in a pair of black stiletto heels, her naked legs, and the smooth, rolling motion of her hips, and the most perfect ass I’d ever seen—perfectly curved, perfectly tight. And I was dying, the awful, wonderful feeling from the last time I’d touch her swamping me in a big, crashing wave.
Pure lust had never come so close to dropping me to my knees. Never. I could handle lust, so this had to be something else, but I’d be damned if I was going to put a name to it. I didn’t dare. Whatever it was, it didn’t relent, not all the way through the studio, through the door, or across the room to the rack. It was like a fist around my heart, a cold knot in my stomach.
She kept up a casual, mostly one-sided conversation about the weather. I heard myself agree—Yes, it had been unseasonably warm—all the time trying to tear my gaze away from the sway of her butt and the little scrap of black cloth trying to cover it…and failing. The only victory I could claim was I won the struggle to keep my hands to myself and my tongue in my mouth; and I didn’t jump her. Yeah, that was a victory, a pitiful, embarrassing victory.
She made me feel like a hound, and I’d never dogged a woman in my life. I liked to think I was a classier guy than that, smarter—but she was taking me down with every step she took.
It was going to be a long, exhausting, totally unfulfilling afternoon. I could already tell.
#
Minnie
Not a minute went by that I didn’t think of Deke. My tension was honed to a razor’s edge, and it was cutting deeper by the minute. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take of being around him. He had been true to his word and been a perfect gentleman. So professional, so powerfully attractive.
He had heeded all my requests to keep this platonic in public, except for that kiss on my hand. I had wanted to throw myself in him arms and kiss him senseless when I saw him, but restrained myself because of the possible repercussions.
The film from his other shoots told me that it was only a matter of time before he hit supermodel status. This campaign would make a star out of him. There was no doubt. He’d signed an exclusivity contract with T&O, so no one had seen how he modeled…and that was another thing.
He was a complete natural.
Without waiting for me to leave. He stripped down, as if taunting me with his gorgeous backside that was soon covered with a piece of yellow lycra, tight over his obvious hard-on.
He turned and startled when he saw me. “You’re still here? I thought you would have left by now.”
He sounded annoyed, and I realized that he was just as pushed up against the wall as I was. I’d kept my distance today on purpose. He knew it, and hadn’t liked it.
“I think she’ll want your hair loose.”
“That so?” He moved in front of me, his bare chest almost touching my breasts.
“Deke…”
“Why don’t you fix it for me? No one will see us.”
There was a knock on the door and Susan called out, “Five minutes, Deke.”
My hand trembling, I reached out and released his hair. It tumbled around his shoulders, shiny, blond, thick, and tempting me to touch.
“Thanks,” he said, brushing past me, his chest coming into contact with my breasts. He walked out of the room.
I closed my eyes. My control was slipping. Everything I’d learned about Deke was making me crazy to get to know him even better. He was winning. Bloody hell.
I went back into the studio, and Susan motioned me over to the monitor that would flash up Deke’s pictures as the photographer took them.
“He is so easy on the eyes,” Susan muttered while she waited.
Deke stood there in that classic male pose that turned women on because it accentuated the power of their chest, arms, thighs. Sending the message that this was a man who could not only protect, but hunt. He looked like a predator.
The photographer triggered her shutters again and again, capturing Deke completely. Someone threw water on him, and he didn’t miss a beat. As that image flashed up on the screen, the water suspended in midair, I took a heated breath.
I couldn’t look away from him. I watched photo after photo flip past, showing him while he seemed to do the work effortlessly.
His eyes were illuminated, ocean blue with streaks of turquoise green, as ever-changing as the ocean itself and as vast. He looked so serious.
So very fierce.
It fascinated me, his fierceness, the way the high arch of his cheekbones fascinated me, and the lean angle of his jaw. He had a strong nose, adding a Norse quality to his chiseled features. His eyebrows were thick, dark lines, his skin actually flawless, something I seldom saw in fashion. His mouth was wide and firm, his lips provocative. I couldn’t help remembering how he tasted.
He burned through the camera and left an indelible mark on my heart, my soul, my psyche. I wanted to be with him—on a permanent basis. But something held me back, something that had more to do with self-preservation than my hang-ups about
his age and Angela. There was something more here, but I didn’t want to look at it too closely.
And that was damned disconcerting.
Idle fantasy was not the norm for me. I usually acted on whatever I felt strongly about. Like creating my designs, and leaving my da to come to America to make my own way. I was already being physical with Deke as often as we could manage, but I was still trying to keep the emotional out of it. You’re failing, I said to myself. Miserably.
As the weeks passed, he seemed to get more agitated. We were so good together, but it was always behind closed doors. What we’d shared was so precious, I didn’t want to sully it by thinking of it as anything other than beautiful.
“Wow, Minnie, you’re going to sell so many bathing suits,” Susan breathed. “He’s quite a man.”
And Susan was right. Deke was no boy.
He turned his head slightly, fixing me with a hawklike gaze, and, fearless as I normally was, I wanted to shy away from the electric current of attraction that sizzled all the way down from my head to my toes. My cheeks burned, my heart damn near stopped, and I had to look away.
I stepped back from the monitor and swore under my breath. Then swore again. I forced my concentration back to Deke, who now had a smug smile curving his luscious mouth.
As the shoot came to an end, Deke, still soaking wet, caught the towel one of the assistants threw to him.
He made his way to the back room. I took the thumb drive that the photographer handed to me and sent Susan back to the office.
I headed towards the back…and Deke.
He was drying off when I came through the door. It took me only a moment to lock it. He dropped the towel as I headed toward him. I guess he knew why I’d come. He caught me as I threw my arms around him and pressed my mouth to his damp, hot, inviting lips.
“Damn, Minnie,” he growled. “What took you so damn long?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
I was so freaking crazy I told myself, even as I tightened my hold on him, sent my fingers into his wet hair and devoured his mouth. It was crazy to kiss him after vowing I wouldn’t. Not here. Crazy to kiss him after confessing how much I needed him to be professional. I didn’t have the high ground here, no advantage at all. Throwing caution to the wind wasn’t like me, but I couldn’t help it.
I wanted him close—really close.
I wanted him inside me, even if it was just a little bit, even if it was just his tongue in my mouth.
I couldn’t wait.
My hands slipped down to all that gorgeous muscle and I grasped his hips, pulling until they were against mine. Then he backed me against the wall, and all thoughts of advantages slipped out of my head.
I held his bright gaze, and heat coiled low in my belly. I let my gaze drift over his face, memorizing every angle and curve. When his attention settled on my mouth, I felt it. No matter how much we had danced around each other, it was abundantly clear that Deke wanted me as much as I wanted him.
Well, he could have me any way he wanted me, and if he ran out of ideas, I had enough for both of us.
Pulling me even closer, tighter to him, he lowered his head and took my mouth, slanting his lips across mine and seeking entrance with his tongue. My response was immediate, a soft gasp of pleasure, and he took the kiss deeper, slipping inside. God, he was so mind-blowing sexy.
I skimmed my hand up around his neck, my fingers tangling through his hair—and I knew we had already moved far beyond a mere kiss.
His mouth was made for love, for kissing and making love, so soft and lush and enticingly erotic. I moved against him, my breasts pressing against his chest, my mouth angling over his, creating a brief moment of suction, and as quickly as that, heat shot to my core. I felt his control slip, a quick jerk of his body, and a soft, deep moan.
Suction opened up a whole new field of possibilities. Taking him intimately appealed to me in so many ways, but that would have to be at a different time. I couldn’t believe I was thinking there would be more with Deke, but it was time to stop kidding myself.
I palmed him through the flimsy bathing suit and he moaned again. “Minnie,” he said softly, “I don’t have any condoms.”
“That’s not a problem. I’m covered.”
His eyes gleamed at my response. Sliding his hands up my thighs, he bunched the skirt up over my hips and buttocks
“I’m not sure I can be gentle…” he rasped.
I didn’t want gentle. A tiny thrill shot through me. “Bring it on.”
He reached for the waistband of the lycra suit, but I pushed his hands out of the way, delving between his smooth, hot skin and the stretchy fabric, palming him. He thrust his hips again, as I brushed against his groin. He braced his hands on the wall and bowed his head. His chest tightened along with his arms, his biceps bulging in hard relief. That powerful male stance, his hips slightly cocked, his rippling washboards, melted me. He trembled and groaned when I reversed my hand and cupped him, heavy, hard, and hot.
His eyes went dark and fevered with desire, his mouth so gorgeous, I ached to kiss him. “Deke,” I said softly. “Deke.”
“Take them off, Minnie. Now.”
His demanding tone only made my blood pump harder, and my heart beat a fluttering tattoo. My mind slid into a long, slow spin, and I tucked my fingers into either side of the suit and inched it down just enough to reveal the head of his erection. I pushed the material down a little farther and ran my finger around the tip. He thrust powerfully into my hand, his head twisting, his throat vibrating from a powerful growl.
I pushed them all the way off, and he stepped out and kicked them away before pressing his naked body against me.
He pushed off the wall, one of his hands grasped my gyrating hip while the other slipped over my bottom, past my thigh, and hooked his long fingers behind my knee. He lifted my leg up to his waist, wedged his thigh tight between mine, and pressed his hard-on into me intimately. Every hard inch of him.
And it was all the pressure I could handle against my moist, swollen flesh, and I exploded with a white-hot burst of passion that rippled over me in fierce waves.
Then he grasped my other leg, and his arm and chest muscles bunched as he lifted me, using the wall to brace me against his hips, effectively trapping me with the weight of his body.
Staring into my eyes, he said, “Wrap your legs around my waist.” Before my orgasm finished pulsing, he drove into me, strong and deep, penetrating me to the hilt with that first unrestrained thrust, and the sensation of our bare flesh meeting was so intense, I came again with a stabbing, fiery sensation, my hips bucking against his.
My reaction elicited a low, throaty, on-the-edge moan from him, and he crushed his mouth to mine, kissing me with a desperate, fierce passion that caught me off guard. His tongue swept into my mouth, matching the rapid strokes of his hips and the slick, hard slide of his flesh pumping into mine.
Tremors radiated through me right where we were joined. I felt possessed by him, body and soul, in a way that defied our short time together or the simplicity of an affair. In a way that aroused feelings that had no business being a part of this temporary relationship.
Then I lost my mind, gripping him with all my might, the pleasure so delicious, so intense, I gasped against his neck, biting him. I locked my legs around his waist more firmly to pull him closer, deeper, and abandoned myself to yet another orgasm.
It was clear Deke could no longer hold back. As I reached the peak of my climax, he groaned, broke our kiss and tossed his head back, his hips driving hard, his body tightening, straining against mine.
“Minnie.” My name gritted out between his clenched teeth as his body convulsed with the force of his release.
Still semi-hard, he pulled out of me, even as I was gasping again, and he pulled me tightly to his body and sat us down on the couch.
#
Deke
“Deke,” she said softly, her voice so tender, my heart ached with hard thumps. When I hit the c
ushions, I dragged her down on top of me, my dick already tightening, hardening, eager for more.
I looked up at her, absorbing, caressing her with my eyes as I soaked in her beauty, from her mussed hair to her fire engine red toenails.
I trembled at the thought of what I’d learned, but I pushed that away. I knew what I had to do, but I didn’t want to. It hurt so bad to even think about it.
I closed my eyes and panic twisted and gouged at me until I felt her hands on me, sliding up my thighs to my hips.
Slipping my arm around her lower back I thrust my throbbing erection deep. I caressed her cheek with my palm, felt her tremble with a renewed urgency, and dragged her mouth to mine. I smoothed my hand over her breasts, pinching her nipple until she cried out into my mouth.
Despite her attempts to quicken the pace, to devour me, I controlled her response until she softened against me.
When I finally felt her relax, I loosened my hold.
I glided my lips along her jaw while her hands pressed against my chest, her nails lightly grazing my skin, scoring my nipples. I swirled my tongue down the side of her neck and filled my palms with her generous breasts, and she released a soft groan. Dropping my head, I laved her nipples, pulled them into my mouth, sucking first one, then the other stiffened crest.
She cried out hoarsely and moved restlessly against me in a silent plea for more. She dragged her palm over my hair, holding me in place, encouraging a deeper pressure of my mouth on her breast. I gave her everything she wanted, but at my own leisurely pace, which increased her excitement, her need for me, just as I had intended.
But, when she thrust her hips against mine and whispered my name like a prayer, I lifted my head, thrusting my dick between her spread thighs, first pressing her breasts against my face, and then cradling her head in my hands so we were face to face. Refusing to let her look away, I gazed into her eyes, watched her expression as I slowly pushed into her. Without the barrier of a condom, she enveloped me again in her tight, slick heat, so I sucked in a quick breath at the exquisite sensation of being one with her without anything to separate flesh from flesh—which I’d been too desperate to appreciate the first time.