Zachary David Productions
Page 5
What would it have been like to live here, sipping mint juleps on the balcony overlooking the cobbled streets and listening to the clip-clop of horse hooves with the steamboats hissing in the distance, the hot and moist gulf air wafting up to greet you across the face in a whispered kiss?
She didn’t know if it were the mansion or the man, but over the last seven days she’d been overly aware of Zach’s bronzed biceps and raspy voice. In exchange for her room and board she’d taken to not only completing her usual cleaning, but also took on the task of cooking and doing the wash. That meant washing his boxer briefs that were Armani and she’d fantasized about the feel of her fingers slipping under the elastic waistband and sliding them seductively over his body. Outside it was cold, but in her bedroom at night she’d been hot enough to break out in neck sweat.
The days had passed so peacefully Cammie could almost imagine that she’d never again be all alone. That Zach would always be there when she needed him. That the tray ceilings and bright white ornate trim would always be there when she looked up. But he’d said that one word…until. She was offered the comfort of this home and his security only for a period of until.
Finished with the parlor rooms Cammie gathered the trash bag and broom and made her way to the first level and to the room where Zach worked at his desk.
She emptied the waste bin and then took a seat in the plush cream rococo revival chair on the partner’s side of the desk. She liked his attention and longed for it now, but he clicked away at his keyboard, intently eyeing his work. The trendy black eyeglasses he wore when he worked turned her on. His office attire consisted of a white T-shirt and old, well fitted jeans. He left his feet bare—an act that Cammie found sexy as hell given that his feet were high arched, outlined by deep peaks and valleys, and had a light dusting of silky hair across the top.
She cleared her throat, hoping he’d look up from his work.
“What?” He clicked the mouse.
“Can I help you do something?”
“I’m working.”
“On what?”
“Promotions.”
She walked around to look at his computer. A picture of a naked woman posed on hands and knees advertised an upcoming video release.
“You’ve been putting me off for four days. Why do I think you don’t intend to use me in your films?”
He dropped his hands from the keyboard and turned his chair to see her better. He removed his glasses. “I will, but with the upcoming ice storm your costar has jetted to the Florida Keys.”
“He just up and left?”
“He’s from southern California.”
She didn’t know why, but she’d assumed she’d be making the film with Zach. “So you don’t star in the videos?”
His brow furrowed in confusion. Shaking his head he said, “No, I produce them. Is that what you thought?”
Disappointed she answered, “Yeah, I thought it would be you.”
His long fingers rubbed across his lips and chin while he thought on something. Man she wished he’d quit drawing attention to his lips with that gesture of his.
“Prove it,” she said as she leaned her hip against the desk.
“Prove what?”
“Prove that you intend to use me in a video.”
He sighed and rolled his chair forward to focus on the computer screen.
“I knew it!” She jumped from the desk.
“You don’t know anything and I don’t have to prove anything to you.”
“Take some promo photos of me. You’ll need those anyway, won’t you?”
“Why are you so eager to lose your virginity on camera?”
She knew why. She knew exactly why. “If I answer the question can we take some photos?”
“Yes.”
She walked toward a wall of built in bookcases and pulled a heavy silver snail from the shelf. The cold steel in her hands anchored her, focusing her emotions. “I almost had my virginity taken from me. Twice. For my first time I want to be in total control. I want to decide who and I want to decide how and I want to decide when it happens. I refuse to let someone take that right away from me.”
“Hey”—he took the snail from her hands and set it back on the shelf—“you don’t have to take back control by starring in an adult film with some scuzzy guy you don’t even know.”
“I know I don’t, but I want to.”
He grasped her hands in his. They looked so small sheltered in his warmth. “No one can hurt you here. You can take your time and decide all of those things you mentioned, but don’t let it happen just because you’re afraid it’s going to slip through your fingers. That’s not going to happen.”
He pulled her into his strong chest and she believed him when he’d told her that no one could hurt her, but that wouldn’t always be the case. One day soon all of this would no longer exist for her. Eventually she’d have to leave. This experience with him would make going back to the lonely streets all the more difficult because now she knew what it felt like to be held in a warm embrace and to be sheltered and protected inside a loving fortress.
This moment in time with him in this mansion was an alternate reality that her brain had quickly zeroed into, blocking out almost all traces of the life she’d known. But reality was a bitch and she knew that when you weren’t looking life would turn on you and make you wish you were dead. She’d wished for that fate many times before and if she didn’t get out of here, she’d be wishing for it again.
She pulled back from him. “I should go.”
“Go?” His expression was one of disbelief.
“I’ve stayed way too long already.” She’d get one of those rent by the week hotel rooms. Not near as nice as her Slidell home, but she wouldn’t be risking her heart by staying there.
“Have you not been listening? There’s a winter storm coming.”
He followed behind her as she walked toward the staircase that led to the room where she’d been staying.
“Cammie, please stop.”
The sadness in his voice was her undoing. She stopped and turned to look up into his concerned face. “I’ve told you before you can stay while you get your life together.”
“I don’t belong here.”
“What do you mean?”
She shook her head, “I don’t know,” she huffed. She searched the grand staircase with its ornate pineapple finials and gold inlays that screamed at her, you don’t belong here. She couldn’t, wouldn’t get used to it. However, the longer she stayed the harder it would be to forget.
“Will you at least take some pictures of me?”
“If you me a good reason for it that isn’t tied to your insecurity and if you promise to stay afterwards.”
Leveling him with her stare she admitted, “Since the day I walked in on you taking photos of that French woman, all I can think about is your hand between her thighs, positioning her. I want your hands on me.”
His jaw dropped and then his hand took hers, tugging. He led her up to the third level where a red velvet chaise lounger sat before a white screen.
“Let’s take some pictures.”
7
Chapter Seven
Zach moved the red chaise aside. “I want you tangled in white sheets.”
Cammie helped him change the sheets that were on the bed in the studio. They swapped blue silk sheets for crisp virginal white. He hadn’t said it in so many words, but Cammie assumed it was because of her innocent status.
Now he was looking through the viewfinder on one of two cameras that were focused at the bed. “Go ahead and lay across the foot of the bed for me.”
Her empty stomach fluttered to life at the authoritative rasp in his voice.
“Should I take my clothes off?”
“Not yet, I’m just setting compensation and shutter speed.”
She positioned herself on the bed and held herself as still as possible. He took a shot and then spent several minutes making adjustments to the camera.
A fissure of excitement wound its way through her body in anticipation of exposing herself to him and fulfilling one of her many fantasies. Would he touch her? God how she’d wanted him to lay his hand on her since the moment she’d met him, but he’d kept his distance. It was a first for her—being around a man who didn’t seek to objectify her.
The irony that he was the only man she’d ever wanted to notice her, but he didn’t, wasn’t lost on her.
“Okay, you can go ahead and get undressed.”
Her stomach sizzled, warming her from within. He stood next to the camera, watching her. She rose to her knees and lifted the hem of her shirt, pulling it off overhead. Next, she slid her sweatpants off.
She unclasped her bra and her large breasts bounded out, happy to be free. Cold air kissed her nipples, drawing them into points. The thrill of baring herself to him was more exhilarating than she could have imagined and she desperately hoped he liked what he saw.
Standing before him completely nude she waited for him to command her, silently praying positioning for the photos wouldn’t be left up to her. The commands never came. Her gaze collided with his as he stared intensely without blinking, intimidating her into coving her chest with her arm.
“Is something wrong?”
He didn’t respond. Oh god, he hated how she looked and he didn’t want to use her for his promo photos.
“You don’t like my body?”
He cleared his throat and swallowed, and then his mouth parted. “I uh”—he swallowed a second time—“I like it.”
He didn’t say much or move much. What was wrong with him? It was as if he’d been pulled from the frigid waters of the northern Atlantic. She’d hoped for fire and instead received ice.
“Can you tell me what you’d like me to do?”
“Yeah, I will.”
He turned and walked away. He retreated into the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind him and leaving her standing on her knees on the bed. She rubbed her arms to combat the cool air on her naked skin.
After several minutes she sat, and drew her knees to her chest.
When he emerged from the bathroom, she’d already started to dress.
He grasped her elbow, “What are you doing?”
“Clearly I’m not what you want so I’m getting dressed.”
“I’m sorry. Allow me to explain.” He dropped his gaze to the floor. When he looked back to her his face looked young and he was grinning. “I don’t know what to say. I mean I’ve filmed hundreds of women, but the sight of you with no clothes on was more than I could take. I had to go and get a little composure.”
“So you like my body?”
“Baby, your body is so hot it could melt the polar icecaps from here. I’ve never seen a more beautiful body.” He leaned in and placed a kiss on her forehead.”
“So you think I’ll be a good addition to the website?”
He frowned, looking almost angry, but then his frown faded and he smiled. “Sure babe, I think you’ll be great.”
“Will you help me get into position?”
“It’d be my pleasure. Now get naked.” He swatted her on the butt and chuckled.
“Wow you are a most upstanding professional.”
“What can I say…you bring out the kid in me.”
Huh, she didn’t want to bring out the kid, she wanted to bring out the aroused man in him.
On her knees for the second time, she stood, staring at the camera and lowered her chin in a seductive pose.
“That’s actually good.” He snapped the camera a few times.
“Now turn your body away from the camera.”
He walked over and positioned her so that her backside was to the camera and turned her head to look back over her shoulder. His hand ghosted over her back thigh, and then his fingers dipped between her legs, opening them slightly. She inhaled, trying to even out her breathing and remain cool. His touch was like a glowing-hot branding iron, searing her wherever he touched.
Looking through the lens he said, “Turn your body just slightly toward the camera.” The flash snapped several times.
“Looks great. Now lie back on the bed.”
She complied, resting her back on the bed.
“Legs bent.”
He snapped some photos.
“Go ahead and spread your knees apart.”
His command sent a rush of warmth between her legs. Would he know? Would he be able to see it? Aroused more than she had ever been, she felt the wetness pool at her thighs.
After several shots in that pose he said, “Pull your right leg up toward your chest.”
She wondered what he thought about her private parts. Did they look sexy?
“Great now keep your leg up and turn at the waist. Look into the camera.”
She obeyed his orders.
“Beautiful.”
“Touch yourself.”
“What?”
He pulled away from the camera, and then walked toward her on the bed. He took her hand and pulled it through her legs. “Touch yourself.”
“You want me to masturbate.”
“These are still photos. I want it to appear that you are masturbating, but if it helps you…feel free.”
She wanted to masturbate for him—had even fantasized about it every night since she’d met him. Her finger feathered over the tight bundle of nerves between her legs. She slid through the wetness that he’d elicited from her. She’d been given this body for a reason and it was for this moment.
She’d become so entranced in her efforts that she wasn’t aware of the camera or how many pictures he took of her in all her vulnerability. The only thing she felt was the white-hot heat, burning between her legs. She opened her eyes and found him standing before her, watching intently. His focus on her sent her over the edge. She increased the pressure and speed and came for him, all for him. She whispered his name and he lowered to his knees on the floor.
He pulled her by the ankles until his head was between her legs, his lips covered her in a soft kiss.
“I can’t force myself to not want you anymore. I need to touch you. Is this okay?”
Anymore? Had he been forcing himself back all this time?
“Yes, touch me.”
She was tender but his lips were soft.
“Have you ever been fingered?”
“No, I haven’t.” Her voice was breathy.
He traced her lips with the soft pad of his finger, teasing but not penetrating.
“Please, touch me. Deep.”
His fingers spread her and his tongue, warm and soft, was inside of her. Her body singed at his touch and her fingers curled tightly around locks of his hair. Sucking on her, his finger slipped inside and curled. Her walls hugged his finger as she climaxed, calling out his name.
Before she’d regained her composure he was hoisting himself off the bed.
“Where are you going?”
“Shh, stay still. I want to get a picture of you intoxicated by climax.”
The camera snapped and she stretched, her back arching off the bed as she smiled lazily at the camera.
“You are so gorgeous. The guys in your class must have chased after you.”
He didn’t know the half of it. Luckily she’d been in track and could outrun them all. She giggled and he crawled over her naked body.
Smiling down at her he asked, “What’s so funny?”
But she didn’t want to talk about other guys so she cupped him between the legs, gasping at his hardness.
He took her hands and clasped them together above her head with only one of his large hands.
“Better not do that.”
“But I want to touch you and see you.”
“Not yet.”
His sof
t lips pillowed over hers to deliver a sweet kiss.
“Why not?”
“Have you ever seen a porno?”
She licked her lips as she deliberated on what answer he wanted here—yes or no. She shook her head.
“Have you ever seen a man naked?”
“No, but I want to.”
“And I want to take it slow.”
“Slow?”
He sat on the edge of the bed. Ignoring her he said, “Get dressed and meet me in the kitchen for some dinner.”
“What?”
Cammie sat up on her elbows just in time to catch a view of his retreating back.
Slowly she got up. While she should be satisfied, she wasn’t. Because of Zach she’d just had two orgasms but he refused to take pleasure from her and she desperately wanted to please him.
Deciding a little seduction couldn’t hurt, she donned a tight T-shirt, sans bra. She then pulled on the boy shorts and left her sweats folded neatly on the edge of the bed. She only hoped her powers of seduction were impossible to resist.
* * *
***
* * *
Cammie sauntered into the kitchen and oh, holy fuck. How was it possible that she was even hotter in a tight T-shirt and shorts than she was without clothes?
Zach stirred the creamy pasta sauce and then took a large gulp from his wine glass.
Across from the simmering sauce, she took a seat on a barstool, her hard nipples clearly visible through the tiny T-shirt.
“Where’s your sweatshirt?”
“I’m good.”
She was good? From where he was standing she seemed extremely cold.
His dick started to stir and he told himself to focus on Caesar, his German Shepard of ten years that had passed away a few weeks ago.