Lavish Loving

by A. C. Arthur

  They reached the door leading out. Ace turned to face her. “You know we can’t do this again, right?”

  “I know of no such thing.”

  “Well, we can’t. Doing business together is complicated enough without adding sexual tension, romantic assumptions and possible misunderstandings.”

  “The only sexual tension that will happen is if you try and keep that delicious dick away from me.” She opened the door. “I don’t want to argue, and you’ve got to go.” She gave him a quick kiss while gently pushing him out the door. “You said one, right?” Ace nodded. “I won’t be late.”

  He reached his car door and opened it. “I’m going to make sure of that. A car will be by for you at twelve thirty.”

  London closed the door and leaned against it. Not do it again? Was he crazy? Over the next few weeks they’d be working together closely. London planned not only to do it again, but as often as possible.

  Chapter 12

  “I like everything you’ve made. All of this! It’s not easy to impress in this business, but... Wow.”

  Ace, London, Lucien and Tyler stood in the middle of a cluttered warehouse showroom. Clothes in various stages of completion hung on mannequins and hangers, and lay draped across furniture. At Ace’s request, Lucien had brought out four of the almost forty looks that would be presented during the four-week period when major label shows were held.

  London could feel Ace’s eyes following her as she eyed each piece and ran a casual hand over the material or design accent. She said nothing but loved everything designed for the fall collection, including a cropped faux fur–trimmed sweater and cigarette pant look, an oversize hoodie-inspired top paired with leggings and thigh-high boots, and a wide-legged jumpsuit accented with the same cranberry-colored faux fur as the sweater. All were done in tan silks, suedes and cashmere. But it was the show’s trench-inspired closeout piece that dropped London’s jaw. The sketch she’d seen earlier didn’t compare to the finished design. The coat-dress material was a shiny silk charmeuse, the exact color of London’s skin. She looked from the dress Lucien held to the design beside it, noted the wide alligator belt, cranberry fur accents and exaggerated skirt.

  “Now I understand the stilts.”

  “We’ve got a guy working on them, and they’re actually kind of nice,” Ace replied. “Almost like shoes. Might start a trend. Let’s get you in some of this, see if we can make the magic happen.”

  Ace was nervous. He told himself it was ridiculous, that he’d done dozens of fittings and had himself been fitted thousands of times. That he’d seen more naked women than most small-town doctors. That if you’d seen one naked model, you’d seen them all. He told himself all that. And knew it was BS. After last night with London and their heated, prolonged, seductive goodbye, he knew he’d be lucky to hear her voice let alone see her face without his flagpole rising.

  * * *

  Turned out the nervousness was warranted. When London shrugged out of her coat, peeled off her top and exposed the nipples he’d suckled half the night and part of the morning, Ace was not prepared. She shimmied out of her pants. Cotton panties had never looked sexier. His heart thudded. His groin clutched. He wanted to wrap her in his jacket and shield her breasts from a workroom filled with some of the gayest guys in San Francisco. Ace could have kicked himself. He knew how strong his feelings had been before. They seemed to have gotten worse. Getting physical with London? Bad choice, brother. Very bad choice.

  But her body in his clothes? Perfect.

  Lucien agreed. “You look delicious! Your body is better than a mannequin. Look—” he stepped forward and clutched the material at her waist “—I need to take it up here.” He turned her around, adjusted the material covering her butt. “And maybe take out a little from each seam. A big derriere, tiny waist and so beautiful! Just looking at you and I almost turn straight!”

  “All right, enough flirting, Lucien. But he’s right. I really liked this on the hanger. But on you, it definitely goes to another level.” He looked around for one of a half dozen assistants helping Lucien with the collection. “Hey, can one of you guys bring a crate over? Let’s get her in the trench,” Ace said to Lucien as he turned back around. A young man brought over a crate. Ace helped London into the dress. Wanting to try a range of accessories Lucien bypassed the alligator belt on the sketch and brought back a wide gold belt from the accessory wall. He cinched it tightly, make London’s waist appear even more concave. Ace propped up the exaggerated collar, adjusted the fabric so that the V opening reached her navel.

  “Glitter,” he mumbled.

  Lucien stepped closer. “The gold works better, huh?”

  Ace nodded. “I thought the leather was it for sure, but seeing it on her, you’re right. With her body shimmering with glitter. That, the dress, nothing more.” Who needed jewelry when one shined as bright as his muse?

  He tapped his phone and put the call on speaker. “Dent, is hair and makeup here?”

  “Yes. Where should they set up? Where are we shooting?”

  Ace eyed London thoughtfully, looked around the warehouse and then out the window at the overcast sky. “Bring them to one of the spare rooms over here. We’re shooting on the roof.”

  Once set up, London went for hair and makeup. Ace returned to his office, closed the door, had his calls held and paced. He knew making love to her was wrong. Now he questioned the wisdom of choosing her as the face of OTB Her. Being anywhere around her turned him on. He didn’t even have to see her, just know she was in the room. Everything about her was amazing, even the parts of her personality that got on his nerves. This woman had been kryptonite years ago. She was even more beautiful now. What in the heck was he thinking?

  Ace hadn’t a clue, but in times like these he knew he could reach out to his best friend for an intelligent answer. He pulled out his cell phone and sat at his desk. It was the middle of a workday, but sometimes life had to be interrupted.

  The call was answered on the second ring.

  Ace exhaled. “Hey, Mom.”

  “Hello, son. How are you? Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine.” Not. “I know you’re still in the middle of your school day and won’t hold you long.”

  “Your timing is perfect, actually. My kids are in study hall. I was on my way to the teachers’ lounge but will slip outside instead.” He heard Christine speak to someone and could tell from the shift in background noise that she was now outside. “Whew, I didn’t know it was so chilly out. Feels good, though. The day’s been dragging. This will wake me up.”

  Crap! He hadn’t even considered the weather. Was it too cold for them to shoot outside? And on the roof, no less, where it would be even colder? Granted, it was the showing of their fall collection, so the clothes would provide some warmth. Models often braved much worse—fur coats in summer, bikinis in snow. London was a professional and was sure to pull off whatever look the photographer required. Were it anyone else it wouldn’t have mattered. He wouldn’t have given the model’s comfort a second thought. But this wasn’t just another model. It was London. Clarisse Alana. His muse.

  “Sorry for rambling. Even though you said you’re fine, I know you didn’t call to chat about the weather.”

  “Remember that makeup commercial you loved, the one where the model came up out of the water? You went and bought some of it even though I’ve never seen you wear makeup much. Remember?”

  “Of course, I remember that pretty girl. When you told me you knew her, I suggested y’all get married. Do you remember that?”

  Ace laughed. “I was hoping you’d forgotten that part.” At that time she’d also said Ace and London would make pretty babies. Hopefully she’d forgotten that, too. Even though doing what it took to make babies with London was the best time he’d ever had.

  “I ran into her last w
eekend.”

  “Oh, really? In San Francisco?”

  “No, I took a little break, went out of town.”

  “You? A break? You stopped working and didn’t tell me?”

  “It was a last-minute decision, one I didn’t make. I was being a bear in the office. The partners threatened to oust me if I didn’t go get some rest. Anyway, Frida booked me at a resort in Southern California. London was there.”

  “Really? Tell me more!”

  “Turns out her family owns the property. Crazy coincidence, huh?”

  “You know I say coincidence is just God being anonymous. Is she still modeling?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I read where she broke up with that rich director. He’s cute enough, but I never thought he was the right one for her.”

  “You read the tabloids?”

  “No, but I watch those entertainment shows sometimes. Guilty pleasure. I think I saw the news on XYZ. Sounds like both of you are single. Are you two dating?”

  “No, but I asked her to be the face of my new line.”

  “Oh, son, that’s great news. I love it! She’ll be perfect.”

  “That’s what I thought, too. But now I realize there may be a problem.”

  “What?”

  “I used to have feelings for her years ago. There’s still an attraction.”

  “And that’s a problem because?”

  “Because it complicates the workplace. I don’t need the drama. Don’t know if I can handle the distraction. It might be too much.”

  “Sounds like a challenge. My son doesn’t usually run from those. Will she be at the show in New York?”

  Ace sighed. “I guess.”

  “I’d like to meet her.”

  “Mom, I’m calling to discuss what I perceive as a problem and your answer is that you want to meet my problem. What’s wrong with this picture?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with the picture, son. Everything about the picture might be right. And that’s what scares you. Don’t let what happened with Jessica rob you of a life with the right woman. I can tell you from personal experience that there’s nothing like living life with the one you love.”

  “How is Hank?”

  “Your stepfather is fine. He’s not coming to the show, though. Says he doesn’t do froufrou stuff.”

  “But you still want two tickets, right?”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  The office phone rang.

  “Hold on a moment, Mom.” He muted the cell phone and picked up the landline’s receiver. “This is Ace.”

  “Ace, it’s Tyler. The photographer’s here and everything’s set. We’re ready for your direction.”

  “On my way.” He switched calls and headed toward the door. “Mom, I’ve got to go take care of business.”

  “All I have to say is that hopefully part of that business includes London.”

  He ended the call and headed to the warehouse where Tyler and Lucien were coordinating looks. Ace was ready to decide on outfits but braced himself to endure London’s photo shoot. No doubt she would look incredibly stunning, beyond desirable, good enough to eat. And Ace knew from last night’s experience she was one tasty treat.

  Definitely a problem, but maybe his mom was right. London Drake just might turn out to be the best darn problem he’d ever had.

  Chapter 13

  It did not surprise Ace that London was good. She’d been modeling for years, had done hundreds of shoots and was the utmost professional. Yet he hadn’t expected her to be all that she was that night. The shoot took hours. Her hair was filled with waist-length extensions. Headache heavy, Ace assumed. The stilts were high, hard, uncomfortable and necessary for most of the shots. There was not one complaint. She didn’t just wear the clothes. She embodied them, made them come alive. As the photographer and crew set up the last shot of the night, Mira joined Tyler and Ace on the roof. It began to rain.

  Ace frowned at the sky. “You couldn’t wait another ten minutes?”

  “It looks like that’s a wrap,” Mira said. “See you two inside.”

  “I was hoping, too, bro.” Tyler took an umbrella from an astute assistant and passed one to Ace.

  The two watched a flurry of activity on the other side of the roof. Assistants rushed to London, one with a tarp, another with an umbrella, a third with a stepladder to help her down. London called the photographer over.

  “I’m going to go see if she can come in tomorrow and finish the shoot,” Ace said to Tyler, already walking toward the group.

  Tyler nodded and turned to go inside. London was still on the ledge, huddled under the tarp. The photographer was bent over his equipment case. Ace decided to start there. No need to see if London was available if the photographer was already booked.

  “What do you think? Did we get enough for some great ads or should I add another day?”

  “Yes and no,” the photographer said, rising, another camera in hand. “Is that material waterproof?”

  “What? Her dress?”

  “Yes. London wants to shoot in the rain. Will it ruin the garment?”

  Ace’s brow creased. Models took orders. They didn’t give them. As for the material, Ace hadn’t a clue how it would respond. He looked over to see if Lucien was among the people surrounding her. What he saw made him forget about everything but getting the shot.

  The belt had been removed. The coat was pulled off her shoulders, almost to her waist, loads of fabric pooled at her feet. Strategically placed tendrils of her hair helped maintain modesty while offering up a fantasy for anyone who saw the pic. She crouched on the ledge, her limbs positioned in that broken-doll style that couture models mastered, her head tilting back to welcome the rain. Ace thought of his mom and their recent conversation about the shot Christine had loved, the one where London rose out of the water, her face perfectly made up. She looked that way now, only better, like a nymph, a siren, some otherworldly creature come to beguile, snatch and tame men’s hearts.

  The photographer swirled around her like a dancer, turning his waterproof camera from one angle to the next. Hovering over her. Lying beside her. Crouching beneath her to get the best shots. And like the perfect partner, London innately matched her pose to his flow, inspired him with her boldness, propelled his artistry with her own. A clap of thunder sounded. Lightning backlit the moment, allowed the quick-thinking photographer to exchange his flashes with those nature provided. He looked at the shot and yelled with excitement.

  “I just took the shot of my lifetime. Ace, it’s a wrap!”

  Ace watched the photographer run over to London. He showed her the picture. They kissed and hugged in creative bliss. A wave of jealousy and possessiveness came over Ace, slammed into him harder than the raindrops now falling. The fog of denial lifted. The truth became clear. London was more than a friend, more than a muse. She was his soul mate. Theirs was more than an attraction or sexual chemistry. They fit together so well because their union was meant to be. Ace was surer of this than he’d ever been of anything in his life. Now he needed to convince London.

  Fifteen minutes later, Ace walked into London’s makeshift dressing room. She’d shed the wet clothes and sat wrapped in a large terry-cloth robe, sipping hot tea, while a stylist blow-dried the thick extensions. Ace had changed, too. The black button-down, black jeans, black leather boots and dark expression made him look as dangerous as the storm outside.

  “Amazing work out there today, London.” He reached her, leaned down and kissed her forehead.

  “You think so?” He nodded. “Then you should let your face know.” And then to the stylist, she said, “I’ll finish it. Thanks.”

  Ace moved a stack of clothes from the chair across from her and sat down. “What do you mean?”

 
London studied him as she piled the damp tendrils atop her head, wound them into a topknot and secured it with a wide band. “You walked in looking like a thundercloud.”

  “Sorry about that. Got a lot on my mind. Those rain shots changed the entire layout of our campaign. Mira’s on the phone now, calling in the entire PR team. You’re worth it. This line has gone to a whole other level, and it’s because of who you are.”

  “Sounds like you might prefer London to Clarisse after all?”

  “I’m beginning to see that both sides have their benefits. London earned her high paycheck today. We’ll be up all night, but that’s all right. I’m too excited to sleep anyway.”

  “Oh, Ace. Not all night! I wanted you to go out with me and my friends.”

  “Sorry, babe. Work before pleasure.” His ringtone sounded. He looked at the phone’s face and stood. “Speaking of which, this is Mira now. I’ll call you later.” He walked over and kissed her again. But it was different this time. They were alone, so he allowed himself a moment to savor the lips that had glistened in the downpour. To use his tongue and outline their fullness before swiping the crease and demanding entry inside. Then another moment to swirl his tongue with hers, to let his hand drop behind the cloth and tweak the nipple already hardening at his touch. One moment more to sear her body with memories of what they’d shared before and promises of more to come.

  “You drive me crazy,” he whispered as he pulled away.

  London laughed as she stood, shed the robe and unveiled her nakedness. “Will you return the favor?”

  “Girl!” Ace backed away. “Nothing but trouble. Just like I said. Let me get out of here while I still can.”

  * * *

  As the limo pulled up to the condo, London noticed lights inside. She hurriedly thanked the driver, barely giving him time to open the door before she was out of the car and through the unlocked door.

  “Quinn!”

  “We’re in here!”

  London walked down a short hall to a sitting room. Quinn Taylor-Drake looked around and screeched. “Oh, my goodness... Your hair!”