by M. S. Parker
“You were right,” he repeated as his eyes met mine, held them. “I thought I was trying a different approach, but all I’d done was change props. The subject stayed the same, and that was a problem. I don’t need someone who looks like Giselle.”
I gave what I hoped was a self-deprecating smile. “Well, I definitely fit that description.”
His expression changed, and for the first time since I’d come to work for him, I felt like he was seeing me. Really seeing me, not just acknowledging my presence. A genuine smile curved his mouth, making my stomach squirm in a way that wasn’t appropriate for our employer-employee relationship.
“Different isn’t always a bad thing, Sine.”
I shrugged, unable to read what he was thinking. “It might not be bad, but it certainly is a risk, and one I don’t understand you wanting to take. There’s no logical reason you’re asking me to model for you.”
“I’ve been photographing Giselle for almost two weeks now,” he said. “And before her, there were Lorna, Madison, Nessa, dozens over the past ten years. They all had different coloring and body types, and all had been modeling for at least a year or two. They sat where I wanted them to sit, moved, turned, posed. Complete professionals.”
I nodded even though I had absolutely no idea where this conversation was going.
“I’ve sold probably hundreds of photographs of models like Giselle, but somewhere along the way, they all started to look alike.” He closed the rest of the distance between us until I had to tip my head back to see his face. “I need someone new, someone different.”
Different. That was me for certain.
“Unless,” he paused, considering for a moment before going on, “you’re not up for the challenge.”
My eyes narrowed, and that part of me that had always pushed me to keep up with guys who were older and bigger flared up. “I have six brothers who spent most of my childhood telling me I was too young or too small to do what they were doing. There’s no challenge I’m not up to beating.”
Alix’s eyes gleamed. “Glad to hear it. I’ll go get things set up. Finish your lunch and then come out so I can give you your costume to change into.”
He walked out of the office, leaving me staring at him and wondering what in the hell I’d just gotten myself into. I hadn’t been thinking about actually doing it. I’d just never been able to back down when someone said I couldn’t do something. Mam had always told me that taking a dare would land me in trouble someday. I knew for a fact she hadn’t foreseen that the trouble in question would be me posing for erotic photographs.
Neither had I, but a part of me wanted to know if I could see what he saw in me. Another part was running through all the possible arguments I could use to get out of what was going to be an incredibly awkward situation.
Seven
Alix
I hadn’t told Jean yet, but I was actually grateful she’d hired an assistant.
No, that wasn’t entirely accurate. I was grateful she’d hired Sine.
By the middle of the first week, Sine had shown a dedicated work ethic, as well as a knack for organization that went well beyond my own more haphazard system. She went above and beyond. And I supposed that was why I’d started noticing her. Or maybe I’d seen her from moment one, but just hadn’t acknowledged it.
When I didn’t have music on, I could hear her moving around in the office, talking quietly in that lilting Irish voice of hers. I generally couldn’t make out specific words, but it was pleasant. Something about it eased the tension I’d been carrying at the base of my skull.
We hadn’t really talked much before, not beyond work basics, but when I’d seen her come in today, I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off her. She was wearing a sundress, a pale green that suited her coloring, but something about it didn’t quite sit right with me. It wasn’t until she disappeared into the office that I realized what it was. For the first time since I met her, she didn’t seem quite comfortable in her own skin.
Giselle’s text about quitting had interrupted my thoughts, so by the time Sine came back out to get out food from the delivery boy, all that tension was back. The conversation that followed had surprised me, both because it’d been completely unplanned, and because of how much I enjoyed it.
I was a quiet person by nature, not one to make idle conversation. Even as a Dom, I didn’t use excessive words, but with Sine, they’d come easily. I’d found myself looking at her. Studying the lines of her face, the freckles across her nose and cheeks. The shade of her eyes was extraordinary, and I started wondering in which ways it would shift with different colors accenting it.
It wasn’t until she made the comment about how the problem might have been with Giselle that it hit me.
She was right. I’d been focusing so hard on the external, on the props, that I hadn’t considered that a new inspiration might need a new model. Not just new in the sense of someone I hadn’t worked with before, but rather new to the whole concept of modeling.
I had to admit, I was surprised at her response. Most women would’ve jumped at the chance to become a model. She wasn’t just being modest either. I could see it on her face, in her eyes. She honestly didn’t see why I’d want her to pose for me. Okay, so she didn’t have the flashy beauty like Giselle, but she was still striking.
And then I’d realized what I hadn’t before. How she’d looked pretty in her sundress, but not comfortable. Thinking I was joking when I said I wanted her to model. Her usual attire that was so different from what most of the women around me wore.
She honestly didn’t see her allure. She didn’t think she was sexy.
Which somehow made me want to photograph her even more. I now realized that was what my concept had been missing. The juxtaposition of innocence and sensuality. The various bondage techniques I’d been trying on Giselle all week could easily be adapted for Sine’s different body type.
Before we did anything, I needed to make sure she knew that no matter how erotic the photos I took were, I didn’t cross the line with my models. It wasn’t as hard as most people would think. I could appreciate beauty without sexual attraction, especially when I was behind my camera. I always kept sex and art separate, so I was confident I could keep things professional.
I heard her footsteps before she spoke. “I won’t be insulted if you’ve realized it’s a mistake for me to...model.” The word came out flat, like she couldn’t quite believe she was saying it.
I glanced over at her, noted how she nervously fidgeted with the hem of her dress, then smiled. “Actually, I was just out here working through what I wanted to do first.”
She frowned, clearly skeptical, but she didn’t argue, so that was good. I tossed the pillows aside and smoothed out a plain black blanket. It was thick and soft so it wouldn’t be uncomfortable for her to lay on for the next couple hours. When I straightened and turned to face her, I found her watching me. A surprising flush of heat went through me, and I reminded my treacherous libido that this was work only.
“I’ll not be taking my clothes off,” she said firmly, folding her arms over her stomach, the gesture pushing her pert breasts into cleavage that I had to force myself to ignore.
I shook my head. “When you were going through things, did you happen to read one of the modeling contracts? I don’t do nudity.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Erotic, yes,” I said. “Sexual. Sensual. Yes and yes. Sometimes close to nudity, okay, but never all the way there. And it’s all tastefully done.”
“I still don’t understand why you want me to do this,” Sine said.
“Chickening out?” I told myself that the good-natured teasing was to put her at ease, not to provoke her, but I knew that was a lie. If I worded things a different way, she probably would take the out, but if I pushed that same button this time that I had before, she’d push back.
She glared at me. “I don’t chicken out.”
“Then humor me.” I gave her my most charming gri
n. “I promise to be completely professional.”
I watched as she thought it over but didn’t say anything. It had to be her choice. Nervous was okay, but I never wanted a woman to feel pressured into anything by me. I could be intense, I knew, and sometimes intimidated people, even if I didn’t intend it. If this was going to work, she had to trust me.
“What about my other responsibilities? I need a steady job.”
“You’ll have a separate contract for modeling,” I promised. “And a long-term one as my assistant.” When she hesitated, I added, “I can work this on a per session basis, so there’s no obligation to continue, but you’ll get paid a lump sum at the end of each week. How does that sound?”
Her hands curled into fists, flexed, uncurled.
“I’ll work with you today,” she said finally. “But I make no promises beyond that.”
“Understood.”
I glanced toward the wardrobe where I kept the costumes I’d selected for this shoot. None of them would work for Sine. Giselle was half a foot taller.
“What are you wearing under your dress?” Her eyes widened, and I raised my hands in a wait gesture. “No nudity, but yes, you’ll need to show some skin. It’s part of the design I want to do. But nothing I have will fit you.”
A blush stained her cheeks almost immediately as she understood that I’d looked at her body close enough to know something about her measurements.
“What are you wearing?” I repeated the question and told myself that I only wanted to know to determine what I’d be able to do. It had nothing to do with the way my stomach tightened at the thought of filmy lace barely covering...
“Nothing special,” she said, eyes sliding away from me. “Cotton. Green.”
My cock twitched. Shit. That shouldn’t have been so hot.
I took a slow breath and reminded myself that this was work. Nothing more.
I nodded and told myself I was ready. “All right. Let me see.”
Eight
Sine
I changed my mind, Mr. Wexler. I’m sorry. I acted a fool, taking that challenge seriously. I don’t think this is appropriate.
Every possible excuse raced through my mind, some so ridiculous that they were laughable, but plenty would have worked. I’d only known Alix for a week, but I knew he’d let it go if I asked. And a part of me desperately wanted to ask because this was certainly far out of my comfort zone.
But another, louder, part wanted to give it a try. It was this side of me that had always pushed me to do the crazy things. Climbing into the church rafters during Mass. Running into the pasture and scaring the sheep. Throwing a mud pie at Mr. Fitzpatrick when he was hitting his dog. Taking out goalie Liam O’Leary’s feet during a football match because he’d called Donald a foul name.
None of those had been good ideas, and I was fairly certain that this one ranked up there as one of the dumbest, but when Alix asked if I was chickening out, I knew I couldn’t back down.
I took a slow breath as I lowered my zipper. Every inch of my skin felt like it was on fire. I’d taken my clothes off in front of guys before, but those times had been rushed, and they’d been taking off their own too, not standing in front of me fully clothed, watching. I let the dress drop, then stepped out of it. Neither Alix nor I said anything as I picked it up and hung it on a nearby hook.
His gaze ran down my body and back up again as I tried not to fidget. My bra and panties matched, but they were exactly what I’d told him. Pale green cotton. Nothing special. Certainly not like the finery to which he was accustomed.
“We’ll start simple,” he said, looking away from me. He gestured toward the floor where he’d spread a blanket. “Lie down.”
Hoping he couldn’t hear my heart thudding against my ribcage, I slipped my shoes off and went over to the blanket. I sat down, then realized that I didn’t know how he wanted me to lay. A professional model certainly would’ve known what to do, but all I could do was sit there mutely and try to decide if I should lie on my back, my side, or my stomach.
“Sine.” His voice was surprisingly gentle. “Relax. I promise, this won’t hurt a bit.”
I looked up to see him smiling at me. My stomach did a little flip and I frowned. His expression immediately sobered, misunderstanding the reason for my change in expression. I didn’t intend to correct him, however. It was embarrassing enough that I’d had a flash of attraction. I didn’t want to explain it.
“You don’t have to do this.”
This was it. My out. He wouldn’t tease me about it, and I knew he wouldn’t hold it against me either. But I would. I’d know that I had backed off from this when I’d never backed away from anything.
“How do you want me?”
Heat flooded my face as I realized how my question sounded, but I refused to take it back.
Alix’s eyes darkened for a moment, then cleared. “On your back.”
“You’re the boss,” I said as I laid down, telling myself that I didn’t look as awkward as I felt.
“Arms above your head.”
I complied, letting out another breath. Maybe this wasn’t as awful as all that. He didn’t expect me to come up with ideas of my own. All I had to do was follow his directions. Normally, I’d balk at being told what to do, but I was so far out of my depth here that it actually eased my nerves rather than aggravating them.
“I’m going to restrain your wrists now.”
I kept my eyes on the ceiling, but couldn’t stop the shiver that ran over me as his fingertips brushed my skin. I felt something against my wrists, but not metal handcuffs as I’d anticipated. Cloth. Something soft and cool. Silk most likely. It took only a minute or two, and then he was walking back to where he’d set up his camera.
Music was playing in the background, so we weren’t in total silence, but I had to bite my bottom lip to keep from chattering just to ease the nerves that had reappeared the moment he went behind his camera.
“Relax.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Would you like to take my place and see how well you’re able to relax?”
He laughed, and it wasn’t sort of polite laugh one gave to acknowledge something intended to be amusing. He actually thought my comment was funny.
“Where’s your favorite place to go?”
“What do you mean?”
“If you could go anywhere for one day to relax, where would you go?”
“The sea,” I answered automatically. “Not the coast here, but back in Ireland. The smell of salt on the air. The crash of water against the rocks.”
I wasn’t even aware that my muscles were no longer tense until I heard the faint clicking of the camera. I kept going, describing the place I’d once considered my refuge. I didn’t stop until he came over to me again.
Instead of untying my wrists, he began to wrap my forearms, the new position putting some strain on my shoulders. Not enough that it was painful, but it was definitely new and not exactly comfortable…but oddly comforting.
“If any of this hurts you, just tell me.”
I nodded, more aware of his touch than his words. His fingers were strong, but not rough. The way he wrapped the silk around my arms from wrist to elbow was quick, but not sloppy. I couldn’t see it, but I could feel how each scarf rested against my skin.
“We’ll start with some pictures with you like this,” he said, his voice low as his fingers brushed through my hair. He twisted and adjusted my curls, everything about him clinical, professional. “And then we’ll move you around a bit, see what else strikes me. How does that sound?”
I nodded. I could do that.
I wasn’t an impulsive person. I thought things through, planned. It was why I’d graduated at the top of my class, how I’d done so well in college, why I was good at my job. It was also how I managed to convince my parents that I wouldn’t end up being a prostitute in the Big Apple because I was in over my head.
I told my college roommate that once, and she laughed like I was joking, but
that really happened. Mam had been convinced that I wouldn’t be able to handle living on my own, especially not in New York City. Only my brother Donald had supported me from moment one. Being gay in a Catholic family came with its own set of difficulties. I’d stuck by him from moment one, and he’d done the same for me.
I wondered if he’d support me now.
Alix had stuck to his word about no nudity, and he’d been nothing but professional yesterday, but I doubted any of that would make my family comfortable with what I’d done. I was all about women being empowered to make their own choices about their bodies, so I didn’t believe I’d done anything wrong, but that didn’t mean I liked the idea of telling my parents – or my overprotective brothers – that I stripped down to my underthings, let a man tie my arms up, and then take pictures for the world to see.
And I for certain wouldn’t be telling them that a part of me had enjoyed it.
I was already regretting posing for him before I even gotten home last night, and the anxious thoughts had kept me tossing and turning. I’d only gotten through today because I’d kept busy. Cooking. Cleaning. Spending a couple hours on Skype, first with Mam and then with Donald. Now, all that was done, and even a long bath hadn’t been enough to stop my brain from going over all the possible ways one poor decision could seriously fuck up my life.
How was I ever going to face Alix again? Sure, all the essential bits had been as covered as they would’ve been in a bikini – more than some – but it had felt different. Alix had been a complete gentleman, giving instructions, and only touching when necessary, but I’d still been so aware of him that by the time the session had ended, my hands had been shaking.
He’d excused himself to the darkroom to give me privacy to get dressed, and I’d appreciated it, but a part of me still wondered if he’d realized how strange it would be to see each other on Monday. Though, I supposed it was possible that he was accustomed to this sort of thing. Photograph a woman in something revealing, then talk to her like he hadn’t seen anything intimate.