VAIN (The VAIN Series)

by Deborah Bladon

"I was trying to get you to relax." He drops to his knees now and I can literally almost reach out and brush my lips against his. He looks so devastatingly alluring. Why am I not having sex with him right now?

  "By asking me about my sex life?"

  "Alexa." His hand grazes across my shoulder. "This is a process. I need you to relax and talking about sex helps people relax."

  "What people?" I push my arm across my breasts to cover them at the very same moment I pull my knees to my chest. I'm not going for attractive right now. I'm going for coverage and this stance, albeit awkward, is working for me.

  "Women." His tongue flits over his lips. "When a woman talks about the men she's slept with, her body changes."

  "Changes?" I swallow hard to stave off the increasing dryness that is overtaking my mouth. I'm so parched. I feel as though I'm sitting in the middle of a desert with absolutely nothing in sight to satiate me.

  He studies me with a furrowed brow as he stands to reach for a chilled bottle of water sitting atop a small table by the window. "Here." He twists the cap to open it before shoving it harshly into my hand.

  I greedily take it from him and swallow half the bottle in a single gulp. My teeth finally feel as though they aren't glued to the inside of my lips. "What changes?" I repeat, not wanting to miss the answer that I'm sure will make little to no sense to me. His curiosity about my last lover has nothing to do with our photo shoot. I know I'm right about that.

  "I asked the wrong question." He leans back and rests one hand on the bed. "Let's start with your most memorable lover."

  I crease my forehead in confusion. "No." I shake my head. "Let's start with why you think it's necessary to talk about the men I've fucked."

  I fully expect him to dodge the question yet again but he surprises me. "You'll relax if you share."

  "I don't think so." I have to temper a laugh. "My sexual past isn't your business."

  He leans forward again so he's close enough for me to touch. "I don't give a shit about it, Alexa. The details are irrelevant to me."

  The words bite. "Why ask then?"

  "You'll open up more if you share." The corner of his lip twitches slightly. "It will help you feel less vulnerable and more in control of what we're doing. It's part of my process."

  His process? Asking me intimate details about my past lovers is part of his process? That makes about as much sense as my being here in the first place.

  "You're strange," I mutter as I lean back on the bed. "Let's just get this over with."

  He's back on his feet again, his cock lazily hanging in my direction. "The lover you can't forget, Alexa. Tell me about him."

  "That would be Nathan."

  Chapter 7

  "Tilt your head to the left." He motions towards my left with his index finger as he points the camera directly at my chest.

  "Why my head?" I bolt back to a sitting position. "You said no face shots."

  He stalls and pulls the camera down to reveal his face. "Your chin may be visible in some shots. You don't have a problem with that, do you?" His tone is skirting on the edge of frustration.

  I don't push knowing that each time I interrupt him means more time spent naked on his bed with his camera hovering over me. I fall back onto the sheet, pulling my arms lazily over my head.

  "Tell me about Nathan." His index finger once again motions to the left and I shift my face to the side.

  "What about him?" I ask back. Before today, Nathan was someone I hadn't thought about in months. He was a random I picked up in a club. He was gorgeous, fantastic in bed and a fleeting moment of time in my life. I know nothing about him. I never got his last name or what he did for a living.

  "Was he your boyfriend?" He stares at me through the camera lens for several seconds. I know he's gauging my reaction. I know he's chasing the perfect shot.

  I try to temper my chuckle. "Nathan? He's not a boyfriend?"

  "What does that mean?" His voice is low and uncompromising.

  "Nathan is a one night stand guy. He doesn't do relationships, just random fucks." I push my cheek into the sheet to hide the blush I feel wafting over my face. "We hooked up at a club."

  "When?"

  "It was a long time ago." I adjust my legs to try and hide any hint of arousal that may be rushing to the surface. "I guess about three years ago now."

  "You were old enough to go to a club three years ago?" His finger slides to the right and juts into the air. "Shift your hips to the right."

  I push my heels into the bed as I move my body. "I had fake ID," I confess.

  "How old were you?"

  "I was nineteen then," I groan. I'd felt so mature back then.

  He pulls the camera down to look directly at me. "So you fucked him that one time?"

  I nod as I feel the rush of arousal spread to my breasts. My nipples harden under his gaze. "He fucked me five or six times that night." I'd lost track after the first. It was the only time in my life I'd come more than once in a row.

  "You compare every other man to him, don't you?" It's not meant to sound challenging, but it does. At the very least, that's how I absorb it.

  "I did at first," I say as honestly as I can. "I actually kept going back to that club to try and find him again to fuck."

  "Did you?"

  "Did I fuck him again?" My hand twitches at the thought of Nathan's skilled body inside of mine. I want to touch myself right now thinking about it.

  "Did you find him again?" His eyes fall to my legs and I know that he's wondering if I'm as aroused as I sound.

  "No." The defeat in my voice is evident. "I heard he moved to New York so that was the end of that."

  "You think about him when you get yourself off, don't you?" he growls. "You close your eyes when other men are fucking you and you think about his dick being inside of you."

  I almost moan at the sound of the words. "Yes," I whimper under my breath as I slide my legs apart. "Yes." I'd fucked dozens of men since then in pursuit of the high I felt that night.

  "Like that, Alexa." His voice fades into the distance as I close my eyes and run my tongue over my lips thinking about the one night stand I'll never forget.

  Chapter 8

  "When are you going to schedule your practicum, Lexi?" she asks, knowing full well that I haven’t liked the nickname since I was seven-years-old.

  "Why do you insist on calling me that?" I bark back. I'm tired of it. I thought that after I returned from Paris, my mother would have a newfound respect for me. She was the one who told me I'd never survive a month there, and I'd lasted more than half a year.

  She shakes her head as if to ward off my question. "The practicum? When are you scheduling that?"

  It was an important step towards my degree in education and before I'd stumbled into Noah Foster's life it had been on the top of my priority list. Now, I was so caught up in the idea of posing nude for him, that I'd pushed my actual career to the side. That needed to change today. "I'll arrange that today." It's a definitive answer that I plan to back up with action. In fact, if I leave now I can not only avoid a dessert course with my overbearing mother, but the midday traffic that clogs up the arteries around Boston too.

  "What are you doing for money?" She taps her hand on the table in the upscale restaurant she dragged me to for lunch. "I thought you'd go back to working at the bistro when you got back."

  My part-time job at Star Bistro being a barista had been fun when Sadie worked there with me. Now that she was married to the man whose family owned many restaurants along the east coast, serving coffee wasn't on her radar. I assumed I'd fall back into that routine after Paris, but my modeling job with Noah had changed all that. He was paying me enough that I didn't have to work, at least for the immediate future. I knew I'd need to start considering my options in the next few weeks though.

  "I might look for something in child care," I say it as much to stun my mother as to appease my need to be around children. At first glance, I'm not exactly the type of woman that y
ou'd immediately peg as being a kid person, but I love them and since I'm not qualified to teach just yet, helping out at a daycare of after school program seems ideal.

  "Seriously?" She doesn't even try and disguise her surprise.

  "Seriously," I repeat back as I stand and reach over to kiss her cheek. "I've got to run, mom. I'll talk to you next week."

  With that, my parent quota for the week is officially filled without her having even the slightest inkling about what me and my naked body have been up to.

  ***

  "You're going to tie me to that bed?" I point at the bed as if I'm trying to distinguish between it and an invisible bed within the bedroom room we're standing in. This bedroom, which is down the hall from the one we were in last time, is darker, edgier and actually has window coverings. "Noah, you never said anything about bondage."

  "Your contract includes bondage." He glances back at me briefly as he sets up a light next to the four poster bed. "It's scarves, Alexa. They're for show."

  "For show?" I peel my jeans off before slipping out of my black panties. This is only the second time he's seen me naked but I've already learned the valuable lesson that wasting Noah Foster's precious time only makes him cranky. If I cooperate fully, I'll be out of the bindings and this room early enough that I can meet my friend Kayla at a bar downtown.

  He nods without turning his attention to me. I should take offense at the fact that he doesn't flinch at the sight of my naked body, but I've gotten over that. It's all about getting down to business now and getting this gig over and done with so I can move on with my life, money in hand.

  "Get on the bed." He sounds more callous than last time, if that's even possible.

  "In the middle?" I push myself to the center of the bed before resting my back against the very uncomfortable mattress.

  He shakes his head impatiently. "How can the bindings reach if you're way down there?" He grabs my upper arm and yanks hard on it.

  I wince as I pull it free. "Fuck, Noah. That hurt."

  "I'm sorry." The words are barely audible and instantly leave me wondering if they are foreign to him. He doesn't strike me as the type of man that offers amends often. "You need to move up." He pats the mattress next to me. "Move your ass up here."

  I scoot my naked body up towards the heavy, wooden headboard, painfully aware that his eyes are fixed on my bouncing tits. "Here?" I tilt my head down as I ask the question, wanting to catch his gaze.

  He doesn't take the hint and for the first time, I feel vulnerable under his watchful eyes.

  "Noah?" I whisper his name not wanting to call too much attention to the fact that he's frozen in place. "Is this good?"

  His eyes travel slowly up my body before they land squarely on my face. "You're beautiful, Alexa."

  I try not to smile too broadly at the compliment even though it means more coming from him than I'd ever admit. Regardless of the fact that we have a written agreement that clearly states that we aren't going to engage in anything beyond picture taking, knowing that he finds me beautiful, stirs up something deep within me.

  "You're not bad yourself," I offer back. I should tell him that he's the hottest man I've ever been naked with but that would be pushing my luck and pushing buttons that aren't going to get me what I want. He's never going to fuck me into tomorrow. It's just not going to happen.

  "It really doesn't bother you, does it?" He settles onto the bed next to me, his strong, tattooed chest just inches from my touch.

  "What?" I can't form a coherent response. Even though he's wearing jeans, he's still exuding more raw lust than any man I've ever met. I know that if he fucked me, Nathan would become a distant memory of my second best lay and my time in Paris would cease to exist in my mind.

  "The scar." His voice cracks as the word leaves his lips. "My scar."

  Chapter 9

  "You can't tie me to the bed and then ask me something like that." I protest too weakly. He hears it within my voice just as much as I do. The only grace that he's offered me tonight is the fact that he hasn't yet tied my ankles to the bed. I'm not sure if it was intentional or if he did it to watch me squirm after asking me a question like that.

  "It's a simple question, Alexa. Do you like sucking cock?"

  "I'm pretty sure you can get a woman to open up to you…" my voice trails as he slips out of his jeans. "Or whatever your process is without asking her whether she likes blowing guys. Besides, I asked about your scar and you completely ignored that."

  His full lips turn into a sly grin as he picks up his camera and sits next to me. "Do you?"

  "Riddles," I pull the word slowly across my tongue before I lick my bottom lip. "You speak in riddles, Noah."

  His finger jumps to my chin and I groan without thinking as it traces a path across my jaw. "Tilt your head this way, Alexa," he says softly. "I want to capture your bottom lip. It's perfect."

  I try and push my face into the opposite side of the bed, but he holds steadily to my chin. "You said you wouldn't take pictures of my face," I whimper. "My lips. People might know."

  "The only people who would know, Alexa." His warm, heavy breath grazes over my chest before he continues, "Are the men you've sucked off. No one could forget these lips."

  I close my eyes trying to ward off the thought of his cock sliding between my lips. I've wanted that since he flung open the door to his apartment the first night we met. I can't exactly tell him that I've replayed that moment in my mind over and over again and almost each time I imagine dropping to my knees and sucking his cock until he shoots his load all over me.

  "Alexa, your head." His finger brushes against my cheek. "Turn towards me."

  I pull my eyes open slowly as I tilt my head in his direction. He's kneeling next to me now, his almost erect cock just inches from my lips. If this is a test, I'm about to fail miserably. I lick my bottom lip slowly aching to taste the large head of his dick. If I just shifted my body ever so slightly, I know I could reach. Would he stop me? Would he let me?

  "That's perfect," he growls as I hear the distinctive sound of the camera capturing dozens of images in a row. "Your lips are so perfect."

  That's the photographer in him talking and I can't forget that as much as I want to. This has turned into a battle of me against my own will as much as a job. He's toying with me. It's what he's done from the beginning but calling him on it will only feed his already colossal ego. I read enough stories on the Internet about how he discarded countless women after being involved with them for a short time. That had to have been pre scar though. From what I've seen and witnessed, this version of Noah Foster doesn't go out much at all.

  "Alexa," he calls out and I realize that I've heard him repeat my name several times now. I was drifting.

  "What?" I bite back as my eyes fly open to the sight of him hovering above me, his camera in one hand. Christ, please make him stop being so utterly gorgeous. Is this some sick, twisted game of karma? You throw me into a room with a naked man who looks like this and then I can't touch him? This has to be worth more than five thousand dollars. It's like one of those credit card commercials. This is fucking priceless.

  "Talk to me about your last lover." He inches down the bed so I can't make eye contact with him. Smart move, Noah. He asked this once before and my reaction then should have been enough to get him to back the hell off. There's no mistaking what a pushy son of a bitch he is.

  "Let's talk about you instead," I counter, trying to veil the wide grin that has taken over my face. "What about your last lover?"

  "This isn't about me." His response is curt and harsh. "I get to ask the questions."

  "I don’t have to answer them," I push back, pulling my legs closer together. I've had enough of this for one night and maybe shooting personal questions in his direction is going to be the ticket I need to get out of these bindings, this bed and this room for the night.

  "One question, Alexa," he says with a growl. "You ask one question. I'll answer and then you let me work."


  One question? Just one? I study his face and soak in the sight of his eyes staring a path straight through me. We're both naked, nothing separating us but a piece of paper that clearly states that he's never going to ravage my body the way I want him to. If I can't have that, I can definitely have something almost as good. "Tell me about your most memorable lover."

  "I haven't met her yet," he begins before his voice stalls. "Or I haven't fucked her yet."

  "That's a cop out." I adjust my hips to allow my legs to slide open slightly.

  His eyes follow my movement and I know he's staring at my wetness. I've never minded being naked in front of a man, and with Noah, it's quickly becoming second nature. I'm not even sure what it would feel like to actually have a conversation with him while I'm fully clothed.

  "You're wet." His voice is thick and heavy. "You get so wet when I'm photographing you."

  I push my legs even further apart. "You're gorgeous," I admit. "I've never seen a man's body like yours."

  "You get wet from looking at me?" His hand shifts from his lap to the edge of my thigh.

  I have to stall my breathing to suppress a deep, guttural moan that is building within me. "You're not surprised by that." He can't be. He knows exactly what he looks like.

  "I pay women to fuck me," he whispers. "They'll tell me anything to make a dollar."

  "Do they tell you that you're hot as fuck?" I pull against the bindings, my hands instinctively wanting to trace a path across my folds. I'm so aroused. I want so badly to come.

  "Hot as fuck?" The words rumble through him and across his lips. "No one has ever told me that."

  "You're lying," I challenge. "Women tell you all the time that they want you."

  "Do you want me?" It's a question that is engorged with unending consequence.

  I pull my tongue across my lips, let my legs fall open to reveal how dripping wet I actually am and utter a very clear and unmistakable. "Yes."