The Mr. Wrong Series

by Madden, A. M.

  Without haste, direction, or using the privacy screen, Hailey stripped out of her clothes, adjusted the diamond stud in her navel, and stood in front of the bed. Mimicking Cassie’s words, she asked, “How do you want me, Dante? Just like last time?”

  This wasn’t my first shoot with Hailey, nor was it the first time she came on to me. However, it was the first time I had my girlfriend present. My sole reason for that was so Cassie could witness, for herself, that when I photographed a model it was just work… nothing more.

  I adjusted the silver-lined black umbrellas at the head of the bed and grabbed my camera. When Taunt sent me the prospectus for the shoot, their criteria were shots one expected to find in a “rub one out” kind of publication. On the provocative scale of my profession, this shoot was the worst it could get. Afterward, witnessing how I handled it should eliminate any insecurities Cassie had about my job.

  “Okay, let’s start with a few full-lengths before you get on the bed. Use the scarf to cover the important parts.” Hailey smiled, grabbed the navy fabric, and turned sideways with a slight arch in her back. She positioned the material over her fake breasts before pitching them forward. She then brought her hand to her hair and sensually pouted.

  There wasn’t a doubt that the camera loved her. She’d been a model since she was a teenager, and now at the age of twenty-four, she knew every nuance and look that would work. She also knew where the money was. Many of the younger models ventured into nude shots because magazines such as Taunt paid big bucks. Years ago, and before my time, it could be a blemish on a young model’s portfolio. But this generation considered it a badge of honor. It was all kinds of sad.

  I pressed the shutter button, taking a series of stills, my eye depending on the viewfinder of my camera while directing her.

  “Cover your bare breast with your arm, and keep the scarf over the left one. Let’s leave something to the imagination.” Hailey laughed, and I did as well, both knowing that wasn’t her strong suit. The first time I shot her, she was more than eager to strip and show me all God had blessed her with. Shy was not a word I’d use to describe her. If she weren’t a model, Hailey could be an exhibitionist.

  Every few clicks, Hailey would turn, pout, or smile while using the scarf teasingly to hide slivers of her body. With her back to me, she craned her head and looked over her left shoulder before switching sides. When I followed Hailey’s sightline, Cassie sat rigid, her expression void of any emotion. The only reason I kept working, and not stopping to talk to her, was the sooner I finished the sooner Hailey could be on her way.

  After a few dozen low-key shots—well, as low-key as they could get—it was time for the centerfold shot… the moneymaker, as some would call it.

  “Great job, Hailey. Time for the shot that will sell the magazine.” At my announcement, the way she peered at my girlfriend meant she’d flaunt it to the hilt. But I had a job to do, and that was all this was.

  “Kneel on the bed, sit back on your heels, and spread your knees.” Hailey did as asked by exposing her bare pussy without shame. “Hold the scarf between your breasts and let it fall between your legs.” I waited for her to comply and snapped a few more pictures. “You can lose the scarf now.” A wry smile crept across her face as she dramatically dropped it on the floor. “Okay, now move like your lover’s hands are your own.” Knowing exactly what I wanted, she left one hand on her thigh and the other skimmed up her flat stomach to her breast.

  “Sit down in the center of the mattress, lean back on your hands, back straight, and bend your right knee.” I took a few shots. “Drop it to the side a bit, Hailey.” Widening her stance just enough, she allowed for me, and those who would be buying this magazine, to see that she was wet. She let her bronze-gold hair cascade down her back. The resounding sounds of clicks rang through the otherwise quiet space.

  I hadn’t looked at Cassie yet, but I could see out of the corner of my eye her posture hadn’t relaxed.

  “Dante?” Hailey said my name as if she had just run a marathon. “Do you want that pose we did last time? You know, the one where I touched myself? You liked that one, right?”

  Shit. She knew I did because it was a hot-as-fuck picture. But if I admitted that, it would seem as though I liked it for me rather than for what it was. “It’s what Taunt wants, not me.”

  Hailey placed her finger on her pelvic bone and slid it down to where she almost entered herself. That’s when I made the mistake of looking at Cassie. She was an open book. Her mouth tightened, her jaw clenched, and she looked at Hailey as if she was in a daze. In lightning-fast speed I got the shot I needed. “That’s a wrap. You can get dressed now. Use the screen, please.”

  Hailey got off the bed and gathered her clothes. She glanced at Cassie. “Did you enjoy that?”

  Cassie forced a smile. “You’re very good at what you do.”

  Disobeying my request, Hailey slid her bra on and buttoned her sleeveless blouse. “Thank you. Dante brings out the best in me… always has.” Only then did she disappear behind the privacy screen.

  Before I could say a word, Cassie stood and left the room. Without hesitation, I followed her into the hall and pulled her in for a hug. “I’m yours, Cassandra. That was just work.” Her arms went lax around me. “Stay here while I walk her out. I’ll be right back.”

  Once Hailey was gone, I hustled back to my studio, finding Cassie staring blankly at the bed. “Cassandra?” She turned to me but didn’t say a word. “Are you okay?” My plan to prove that photographing naked models did nothing for me backfired. Cassie had to realize she was the only one who could get me hard as steel by just breathing.

  “Yes, I’m fine.” Her words held no truth to them at all. I don’t know whom she was trying to convince, me or herself, but either way she failed. When I cocked my brow, she added, “That’s a lie. Why did you really want me in here? To show me how you spend your days? Show me the type of woman you want? So when I look in the mirror I see…” She swung her hand down her body. “This… All while knowing you want that?” Her petite finger pointed at a still of Hailey on the laptop screen. An indignant expression meant she believed every word out of her mouth was the truth. I knew Cassie well enough to know when she got defensive versus apathetic, like now.

  “You’re kidding, right?” A touch of embarrassment caused her to fidget with my shirt, pulling it tighter across her chest.

  “I’m not mad, Dante,” she said, her voice remorseful. “But if this was your way of showing me what you want from me…”

  Not letting her finish, I crushed my mouth to hers, searing our lips together, tasting every crevice of her mouth with my tongue. Breaking apart, I looked into her eyes. “I don’t want that from you. Not in that way… not for a magazine or for anyone else’s eyes.” I watched her work down a swallow. “All I could think of was you during that shoot and it wasn’t because you were in the room. It’s because your scent is on my skin. Your taste is on my tongue. Your arousal is on my dick.”

  Cassie started coming to life. She anchored her hands to her hips. “You had her kneel just like you had me pose. How do you think that made me feel?”

  “It wasn’t my intent. It was to show you that you’re the only one for me. I don’t screw around with models… ever.”

  “Except for Charlene.”

  Her words hit me like a slap to the face. “Charlene?”

  Tilting her head, she challenged, “You screwed around then, didn’t you?”

  “Forget Charlene. She was in the business and knew what my job entailed… you don’t.” I could tell my words irked her. Even after I pulled her into my hold, her defiant stance remained rigid. “It’s different with you. When you posed for me, all I wanted was to bury myself inside of you. When I’m working with models, there isn’t any blood flow to my dick. There aren’t any visions of her cunt pulsing around my cock. Only you.” My explanation helped her posture to relax, but I could tell her mind still ran a mile a minute with doubt. “Cassandra, talk to m
e.”

  After a beat, her tenacity returned full force. “How would you feel if Thomas walked into my apartment naked? What if I spent my days watching him touch himself while I stared at him… because it was my job? You think Thomas wants me, but there’s no doubt Hailey wants you.” My entire body coiled like a snake waiting to strike. “I can see it in your eyes that you wouldn’t like it.”

  “I’d hate it. I just wanted you to understand, Cassandra. To put you at ease, not to upset you or make you feel unsure. Models like Hailey are superficial, a chrysalis that never develops into a beautiful butterfly. You are that butterfly. Or like carbon dug from a rock, hoping to become a priceless diamond, but no matter how they’re cut or how much they’re polished, they will never shine the way you do.” I cupped her face with my hands, forcing her eyes to meet mine. The sweet cornflower irises that I’d never tire of looking at shimmered. “You are my diamond, Cassandra. Please tell me you understand that.”

  Her eyelashes fluttered. “Yes, I suppose so. It’s just hard for me to wrap my head around.”

  “What is?”

  “That you would want me.”

  Want was an understatement. Desire. Need. Covet. Those were the words that came to mind. Rather than say anything, I picked her up and laid her on the chaise longue in the corner of the studio. Cassie’s eyes flared with desire. Easily yanking my too-big shorts down her legs, I exposed her to me. “Didn’t feel like wearing my boxer briefs?” She shook her head while bringing her bent knees together, blocking my view of what I wanted. “No.” I pushed them apart, wrapped my hands around her slim calves and yanked her to the edge of the chair.

  The sound of my jeans hitting the floor, followed by my boxers and shirt, had Cassie writhing on the tufted leather surface. I stroked my cock, her eyes tracking each pump. When my thumb brushed over the crown, taking a bit of moisture with it, she licked her lips. I could have very easily slid it in her mouth, but instead, I impaled her pussy with one swift thrust.

  “Goddamn it, Cassandra, you’re the only woman who makes me come apart at the seams. The only one who could send me over the edge with just a smile.” She moaned and wrapped her legs around my waist. “Since the first time I saw you, I knew you’d bring me to my knees.”

  She let out a giggle that I felt through her core. “Really?” I pushed in and she gripped the hair at the nape of my neck. “Even when I was yelling at you?”

  “Yeah.” I breathed out in a rushed huff. “I thought of all the ways I could shut you up.”

  That caused an unadulterated laugh so deep both our bodies vibrated. “I probably would have slapped you.”

  I thrust my hips forward, my balls whacking her ass. “And I probably would have liked it.”

  “You’re crazy, do you know that?”

  “Yeah… I am… about you.”

  Chapter 19

  Cassie

  Where are you?

  I read the text and rolled my eyes.

  And stop rolling your eyes.

  The second text caused my ire to dissolve and a giggle to escape. How could I be annoyed at him? That sexy man wanted me. My absence, if even for an hour, caused him to seek me out. Never, ever, had I felt so desired. But that didn’t mean my head wasn’t spinning over the hurricane that blew into my life named Dante Benedetto.

  With a goofy grin, my fingers flew over the screen as I typed back a response.

  I’m leaving in ten minutes. Chill.

  The dots danced, and an immediate reply appeared.

  I’ll show you just how chill I can be when you get back here… with my mouth between your legs.

  Holy hell, this man. How could someone even respond to that? Thank you? Yes, please?

  After our whirlwind morning, Dante said he had a few hours of editing to do before the photos needed to be sent to Taunt, and I took the opportunity to go back to my apartment. I had no clothes to wear besides his, no makeup, no deodorant… although, I loved smelling like him.

  Still. We’d been together since he’d brought me lunch the day before, and if I hadn’t insisted on giving him time to do his job, I’d be on his couch right now… or maybe tied to it.

  Was that normal? I tried to remember if my friends, when they began their relationships, were with their guys day and night. And thinking back, I did recall barely seeing Brae or Vanessa once Jude and Kyle got their hooks in them.

  Regardless, I couldn’t help but wonder how we got there. Was it two people building a relationship or was it infatuation? And needing time away from him had little to do with wanting space, but more to do with worrying whatever this was between us would fizzle out as quickly as it sparked.

  The buzzing of another text forced me to hurriedly throw the last of my things into the small bag I had packed. Once I took a quick mental inventory of what I’d need until tomorrow night, including the black dress Dante bought for me, I grabbed my phone, purse, and bag to go back to his place. On the way down in the elevator, I glanced at the text. Through that damn group chat app she loved, Brae asked if anyone was up for Dispatch later tonight. Not knowing what Dante wanted to do, I waited to respond until I got back to his apartment.

  As if reading my mind, Dante texted right after Brae, but it was directed only to me.

  Don’t respond to Brae yet. I have plans for us tonight.

  You’re so bossy.

  What came next was a picture of Dante, erect and in all his glory, with the words:

  No… he is.

  Even while alone in the elevator, my cheeks blazed as my thighs instantly pressed together. Desire flared in every nerve ending south of my belly button. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d ruin me for all others… it already had happened.

  Through naughty texts, Dante continued to entertain me, making the trek uptown go by in no time at all. Just as I swiped my card in the cab’s credit-card reader, a knock on the window caused me to jump.

  “It sure took you long enough,” Dante said the moment he opened the door. With one hand on my bag, and the other gripping my wrist, he practically dragged me through the lobby of his building.

  “What’s the rush?” I half asked, half laughed, once we were inside the elevator. No response came, because my back was up against the wall and his mouth was on mine before the doors even slid shut. The kiss lasted the entire ride and left me panting. “You missed me,” I said matter-of-factly.

  “As if my texts, and the dick pic, didn’t clue you in to that already?” He pulled me by the hand until we stood in his foyer, where he resumed our make-out session. Kissing him usually led to all sorts of salacious foreplay, which usually led to him inside me.

  A teeny, tiny seed of doubt festered, wondering if he was so worked up because of Hailey’s pictures he had been editing. But as quickly as it pricked deep inside, it vanished, remembering all he had said after that shoot.

  Regardless, my attention was caught by Charlene’s picture over his shoulder as she stared back at me. Dante followed my gaze before bringing his chocolate-brown eyes back to mine. “It’s just art, Cassandra.”

  “I know,” I said with a genuine smile. I truly did believe her face on his wall no longer had anything to do with their relationship. That didn’t mean I liked looking at it. He continued to study my expression for a few long moments, and I tried to make it as tranquil as possible.

  Before I knew what was happening, he walked over to the picture, lifted it off its hooks, and leaned it against the wall, facing backward. I couldn’t believe he had done that, and I was sure the shock I felt replaced the easygoing aura I struggled to maintain.

  He came back to stand before me. “Now go put on that dress I know will hug every damn one of your curves so we can get out of here. Don’t forget your come fuck me heels.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.” Raising my brow in protest of not being in the know, Dante shook his head. “Don’t give me that look, Cassandra. For once just do what I say.”

  A familiar d
oor came into view as our cab rolled up to the curb. It didn’t take long for my pulse to quicken, remembering the last time we were there. Dante might have called it dancing, but I considered it just another method of Dante’s foreplay… and it worked.

  Once again, Marisa greeted us at the door. Dante kissed both sides of her cheeks before reintroducing us. Unlike before, I knew what was coming, and my anxiety wasn’t from nerves but from anticipation.

  With his hand possessively holding mine, we wove through the small crowd. The deep bass of the Latin music pulsed around us. Rather than stop at the bar for cocktails, Dante led me straight to the dance floor.

  The thin silk material of my dress, and the smooth fabric of his slacks, made a poor barrier against his hard muscles. Every nuance, ridge, and dip could be felt as though we were naked. Maybe that was his plan when he bought this band-aid of a dress.

  Dante placed one hand on my ass and pulled me into his body, sending an electrifying shudder to reverberate through me. My body had become a live wire, and Dante was the spark plug. His leg slid between mine, forcing the hem circling my thighs to rise.

  Falling in line with his moves, I crawled my fingers up his back, around his shoulders, and into the collar of his dress shirt. He pitched his pelvis forward, providing the friction I needed. Our hips rolled in unison, simulating making love and not merely dancing. My body knew how to move with his, and all the apprehension I’d felt the first time no longer existed. Even my trepidation of feeling inadequate with the skilled dancers around us vanished. Tonight, it was just Dante and me in our own world.

  One song melded into the next, and before we knew it the only thing that kept us vertical was the fact we were in a public place. Dante’s shirt exposed a tantalizing patch of tan skin at the base of his neck. As always, the outline of that damn piercing beckoned my mouth to suck and tug it with my teeth.