by M. S. Parker
But it hadn’t been intimate, I reminded myself. We’d shared nothing precious, done nothing shameful.
I sighed as I rummaged through the kitchen, trying to find something to distract me. The only alcohol in my apartment was whiskey from back home, but I didn’t think that would be a wise idea. I could hold my own better than one would think for someone my size, but I didn’t fancy dealing with a hangover if I let myself drink enough to forget. Ice cream would’ve been my preference, but I didn’t have any of that. Money had been tight since my former roommate moved back to Nashville three months ago, leaving me with the full cost of rent.
The money from yesterday’s photo shoot was more needed than I wanted to admit. I couldn’t go back and change things, so there wasn’t much point in going on about it, but I could be smarter in the future. I’d go in on Monday and tell Alix that while I appreciated the opportunity, I’d be taking payment for one session and going back to my original job as his assistant.
I found a container of frozen grapes and smiled. Marcia, my former roommate, had turned me on to those during a brown-out two summers ago. Not ice cream, but still a treat.
I popped one into my mouth, grabbed a bottle of water, and curled up in my favorite chair. I was ten minutes into my favorite episode of Britain’s most famous science fiction series when someone knocked at my door.
I frowned as I paused the show and pushed myself up out of my chair. At least three times a month, some delivery person came to my door instead of going up one more floor to the Del Rio place.
Except when I looked out, it wasn’t a delivery. It was Alix.
I flipped both the deadbolts and unchained the door, opening it before I remembered that I was wearing my most comfortable – and therefore my most worn – pajamas. The shorts weren’t those cute little ones that most girls wore, but rather a pair from my high school football – soccer in America – league, sporting our colors of purple and white. My shirt had been a hand-me-down from my oldest brother, Patrick, when he’d moved out. He wasn’t the biggest of my brothers but big enough that the shirt almost covered my shorts, and the neck often slid off my shoulder.
Alix didn’t comment on my outfit and I motioned for him to come inside. I closed the door, crossing my arms as I turned to face him. My pulse began to race even as my stomach tied itself in knots. His expression was serious, his eyes stormy, and I didn’t know what had happened to make him this way. Whatever it was, I knew he wasn’t here to borrow a cup of sugar.
“The pictures came out amazing,” he said, pacing to the lone window before turning to come back toward me. “They were exactly what I imagined. The color and lighting and...” His eyes met mine. “You were perfect.”
I supposed now was as good a time as any to tell him that I’d decided those would be the only photos he’d get to take. But even as I opened my mouth, he was talking again.
“We need to do more. I have a whole range of ideas for a series. And if you’re worried about people recognizing you, I can make it work without showing your face, or I’ll give you a mask.”
A series? Dammit. He wanted to display the pictures. I was an idiot for thinking otherwise. I hadn’t even considered what it would mean to have people looking at them. Stupid, I knew, but entirely on me.
“You have no idea how long I’d been looking for someone to make things come alive again.” He was suddenly directly in front of me, the faint scent of tea tree oil soap surrounding me. “So, what do say, Sine?”
I was having trouble breathing, much less thinking. I shouldn’t do it. I had dozens of reasons why it was a bad idea. For one thing, I wasn’t a model. “Now that you’ve found what you want to do, you should look for a real model to complete the series.” My nails dug into my forearms as I resisted the urge to touch him. Whatever energy between us at the studio was nothing compared to what I felt weaving between us now.
“A real model?” he echoed my words.
I sighed. “You have to know that no man will want to look at a series of photographs of me trying to be sexy.”
Something strange passed across his eyes, and then his hands were on my elbows, yanking me toward him even as he bent his head to take my mouth.
I could have stopped him, pushed him away, and I knew he would have respected it. But I didn’t. I let his lips come down hard on mine, heat and electricity racing across my nerves the moment we touched. I leaned into him, let his tongue part my lips, glide across mine.
He groaned, hands sliding up my arms, and then down my back, freeing me to wrap my arms around his neck. I forgot that he was my boss. Forgot that I didn’t look like the women he’d had in the past or the ones he’d have in the future.
His hands moved lower, cupping my ass as he lifted me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, digging my fingers into his hair. He bit my bottom lip, then soothed the sting with his tongue.
“Fuck, Sine,” he breathed as he rested his forehead against mine. “I want you.”
Bad idea.
Really bad idea.
“First door on the right.” My voice was breathless.
So...bad idea it was.
I kissed along his jaw as he carried me the short distance to my bedroom. It was tiny, barely large enough for my double bed, so it took only two steps once through the doorway for Alix to reach it. He set me down, fingers catching the bottom of my shirt. He paused before he pulled it off completely, the question written on his face. I nodded.
The shirt landed somewhere on the floor, and my shorts followed, leaving me completely naked...and suddenly self-conscious. I began to cover myself, then stopped at the sharp command.
“Stop.”
My eyes darted up to his, and the desire that had darkened them threw away any doubt I had about him wanting this.
He cupped my chin, ran his thumb along my bottom lip. “Do you trust me?”
I nodded.
“I want–” He hesitated, then ran his fingers through my hair, touched my cheek. There was something strange about it, almost uncertain.
“Tell me.”
“I want to tie you up.”
That should have been the sort of statement that made me tell him to leave, but it wasn’t shocking. Not really.
“Like you did yesterday.” It wasn’t a question.
He slid his hand down to move his thumb over my nipple. I shivered.
“Yes, like yesterday. Except this time, I’ll definitely be touching. And a whole lot more.” His voice was low. “But only if you want me.”
I held my hands out in front of me, forearms together. “I don’t have any ribbons, but use what you will.”
Judging by the look on his face, he hadn’t expected me to say that. “Have you done anything like this before?”
“You mean aside from yesterday?” I smiled at him. “No.”
If anything, his eyes darkened even more. “You’re not a–”
I shook my head. “No. But I am getting a wee bit chilly,” I teased.
He chuckled, and the sound heated me. “Lie back. Arms above your head.”
I did as he asked, stretching out on my bed as he went over to the robe hanging on the back of my door and pulled off the belt.
“Are you going to take off your clothes?”
He paused, another of those strange expressions passing across his face. He tossed the belt next to me, then pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a firm, sculpted torso.
Fuck.
He was his own work of art.
I watched him as he came over and wrapped the robe’s belt around my forearms. The short-sleeved shirts he’d worn in the studio hadn’t done him justice. As he shifted, I saw a tattoo covering the top half of his back, a bird of some sort, the wings across his shoulder blades.
“Eagle?” I asked as he moved around to stand near my feet.
“Phoenix.” He ran his fingers up my calf. “You really have no idea how sexy you look like this, do you?”
My heart gave a funny thump. He’d
been intense yesterday behind the camera, but this was something else. “I bet you say that to all the girls you tie up,” I teased.
He smiled. “Not at all.”
Before I could try to figure out what he meant by that, he was kicking his pants aside, and I was...distracted. The half-dozen darkened fumblings I’d had in college hadn’t left much time or light for me to see much, but I had no doubt that neither of my exes could measure up to Alix Wexler – combined.
“Shit,” Alix muttered.
It was only then that I realized he was holding something in his hands.
“Damn condom tore.” He tossed it into the trash. “I only had one.” He smiled at me. “Guess we’ll have to stick to another kind of fun.”
I shook my head. If we didn’t do this now, I doubted we ever would. And I wanted it. Wanted him. “I’m on the pill, and I haven’t been with anyone in a couple years.”
He studied me for a moment, and I could see him weighing the pros and cons. The moment I saw him surrender to his desire, my stomach twisted. “I get tested regularly. I’m clean.” He kneeled on the bed, hands resting on my ankles. “Are you sure?”
“Come on now, you’re not going to be leaving a lass all tied up with nowhere to go, are you?” I purposefully thickened my accent, grinning up at him.
He smiled back, leaning down to take my nipple between his lips. I gasped, arching up against him, surprised at the rough suction.
“Too much?” he asked, glancing up at me.
“No,” I breathed. “More.”
Guys usually treated me like I was going to break, but Alix didn’t seem to have that problem. His thumb stroked over my clit, the pressure hard enough to make me jerk. Teeth worried at my nipple, sharp bites of pain that didn’t cancel out the pleasure from his mouth and his hand. He slid a finger inside, and my head fell back, eyes closed.
“Look at me, Sine.”
I squirmed, hips moving as his finger and thumb continued to work between my legs. My hands opened and closed over my head, the need to touch, to hold, frustrated me more than I thought possible.
“Sine.”
He didn’t shout, but the authority in his voice made me open my eyes. I gasped as a second finger pushed inside, but as soon as my eyelids started fluttering...
“Don’t.”
I looked at him, saw the dark hair fall across his forehead, and my fingers itched to push it back.
“I want to touch you,” I confessed, my voice close to begging. “Please, Alix.”
He shook his head, eyes on my face as he bent his head, flicked his tongue against my nipple. He twisted his fingers, sending a new rush of sensations through me.
“Don’t close your eyes,” he cautioned. “I want you watching me as I make you come on my fingers.”
Sex with my two previous partners hadn’t been entirely unpleasant, but I’d had to use my own fingers to make sure I finished. If the pressure building in my belly was any indication, I wouldn’t need to do that tonight.
“I know you don’t believe you’re desirable,” he said quietly. “But you are, Sine. I desire you. I see you.”
His thumb circled my clit faster, drawing out gasps and moans as he pushed me closer to the edge.
“You can trust me,” he continued. “Let me show you how good it can be. Do you want that?”
I nodded, every muscle in my body tensing, coiling in anticipation. I bit my lower lip, vaguely remembering how thin my walls were. Then his mouth was on my breast again, and I came, hard enough to make him swear as my pussy clamped down on his fingers.
I was still breathing hard when he moved over me. I’d known he was much bigger than me, but I hadn’t really felt it until now. He balanced on his elbows, his body hovering over mine, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off his skin. For a long moment, we stayed like that, and then his mouth was on mine again. He kissed me hard and deep, lowering his body until I felt the tip of him pushing against me. I cried out as he eased his way inside, but he swallowed the sound.
Our bodies shouldn’t have fit together, shouldn’t have been able to move this way. He was so big all over, he could crush me, tear me in half, but he didn’t. Even as he moved inside me, filling me almost to the point of pain, I could feel the restraint, the sheer magnitude of the power he held back.
Each stroke made me struggle against my restraints, desperate to have some form of control, some outlet for everything building inside me. All I could do was take it, absorb it, until it all became too much and I exploded.
Even through the white-hot pleasure of my climax, I felt him jerk against me, bury himself deep. And then he was coming too, groaning out my name, and I knew that no matter what we said or intended, things would never be the same.
Nine
Alix
I kept going over things in my head, trying to figure out when I’d changed from wanting Sine to continue modeling for me to simply wanting her. She was nothing like the women I usually went for. I’d always preferred slender builds, but Sine was the definition of petite. When I picked her up the other night and carried her to her bedroom, I realized just how small she was. For a moment, when I’d been above her, I had the sudden urge to tell her that I’d protect her, keep her safe. That I’d never let anyone hurt her. Not even me. Not even if I had to walk away.
But that thought hadn’t been enough to stop me from sinking into her, from finding pleasure in her body.
It hadn’t been until I’d untied her and started rubbing her arms and hands to get the circulation flowing properly that I’d realized just how stupid I’d been. She was my assistant and my model, not some nameless Sub I met at a club. And while Sine might not have been a virgin, she definitely wasn’t experienced, especially not in bondage. Having sex with her could ruin everything.
I’d always vowed I’d never be the sort of sleazy photographer who’d seduce his models, and until Saturday night, I’d kept that promise.
I hadn’t lingered, but I hadn’t exactly snuck out either. I cleaned myself up in her tiny bathroom before letting her know I’d see myself out. She hadn’t seemed upset when she’d gone to take a shower, but I’d been too cowardly to wait around to make sure she was okay. Now, I was kicking myself for that.
What if she didn’t come in today? She would be well within her rights to file a harassment claim, or even something worse if she felt like I’d pressured her into sex. I could lose her as an assistant and as a model, and that would be the very least of the consequences my rash actions could have. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that she could sue me, drag my name through the mud. And it’d be all my fault.
When Jean had told me to behave myself with Sine, she hadn’t meant this, but if she found out what happened, she’d kick me to the curb. She’d always been so proud that I wasn’t one of those asshole artists who kept needing to be bailed out of jail. And while my sexual preferences for BDSM weren’t public knowledge, I didn’t try to hide my membership at Gilded Cage either. I was neither a recluse nor a partier, neither a serial romancer or a life-long bachelor. I didn’t see myself in the tabloids, and I liked it that way.
While I waited to see if Sine would show up, I brought out the photos from our session Friday night and spread them out on the floor so I could see them in relation to each other. I was kneeling next to a particularly evocative one when I heard the door open. I made myself count to ten before raising my head, not wanting to appear too eager to see her. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.
“I didn’t realize you’d taken so many of them.”
She wasn’t looking at me, but rather at the pictures, giving me the opportunity to study her without being obvious about it. She didn’t look any different than she had on Friday, except she was back to a pair of dress slacks and a nice blouse rather than her sundress.
“I’ll let you know if I need you to answer any emails personally,” she said as she turned to go. “Your coffee’s on the table.”
�
�Do you have anything planned for this afternoon?” I sat back on my heels and ignored the voice in the back of my head telling me this was an imprudent idea. To say the least.
“Nothing specific.” Her eyes met mine for a moment, her cheeks growing pink before she glanced away, focusing instead on the cup she held in her hands.
“I’d like you to model for me again.” I rose to my feet but went for my coffee instead of going to her like my body wanted to.
In the silence that followed, a hundred thoughts ran through my mind, everything from her stomping out in a huff, to her calling the cops, to her taking that to mean I wanted her in my bed. The memory of what she felt like made my stomach tighten, but I knew it couldn’t happen again. Once could be written off as an impulsive mistake. Twice...that would be the start of a pattern I didn’t want.
“I would be open to that,” she said slowly, her finger tracing around the lid of her cup. “But we need to have some rules in place.”
I nodded, took a long gulp of my iced cafe latte before speaking. “That’s a good idea. Did you have anything specific in mind?”
“Two.”
I blinked. If she had two rules ready so quickly, it meant she’d already been thinking about this. I was surprised but not displeased.
“It has to stay professional between us,” she said, her voice steady. “What happened the other night, it can’t happen again. I’m your assistant, and you’re my boss. A model and photographer. Nothing more.”
I nodded, relieved that she wasn’t going to blow things up because of a moment of shared weakness. “I want the same thing.”
“And no nudity,” she said, eyes darting up to my face again. “It doesn’t matter that you’ve already seen...” She lifted her chin. “I won’t be doing anything like that.”
“Agreed.”
She nodded once and then turned away. “I’ll let you know when I order lunch, and we can get started after that.”