by M. S. Parker
I couldn’t have hoped for a better outcome, I thought as I watched her disappear into her office. No awkward silences or wondering what the other one was thinking. No worries that she’d gotten the wrong idea, no demands or threats of legal action. It should have been everything I could have wanted.
Then why did the thought of touching her again after lunch make me feel elated? That I’d have a reason to feel her soft skin against my palms. That every single idea I had for today’s session morphed into what it would be like to tie her up, pose her, not for photographs, but so that I could lose myself in her again.
She was right to want this to stay professional, but I wasn’t so sure of my own motives anymore.
Ten
Sine
I’d always been a bit in awe of artists, being able to picture things and then create them. Painters, sculptures, authors, photographers. Mam had a knack for making all manner of things with a needle and thread. Da was a genius with a knife for carving, and a couple of my brothers had the same skill. My sister won every baking contest she entered.
Me? I could organize and schedule. Some talent.
Alix...he could visualize things I couldn’t even dream. I might not have understood what he saw in me, but I’d seen the photos he’d taken, and I couldn’t deny that they were special. Though I knew that was more due to Alix’s talent than me being his subject.
Which meant I was a part of his art in a way, and that made me see modeling for him in a whole new way.
None of that changed how his touch made my skin hum or the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about what he felt like, smelled like. The things he made me feel.
Like safe.
I’d worn another set of matching bra and panties, these ones white cotton. It’d been a little easier to undress this time, but as I knelt on the blanket and waited for him to tie me up, the anticipation racing along my nerves was more intense than before.
He used leather this time, connecting my wrists to my ankles tight enough that I didn’t have much in the way of mobility. It forced my back to arch, putting my breasts on display, which was made even more embarrassing by the fact that my nipples were hard little points, easily visible. And I couldn’t even blame it on temperature because the lights were hot enough to make me appreciate not having to wear more clothes.
When he finished, he walked around in front of me, and I tilted my head back so I could see his face. He leaned down and rested his hand on the side of my face. His thumb moved across my lower lip, and it took all my self-control not to lick it.
Dammit.
This was going to be harder than I thought.
By the time I got home, my skin felt like it was on too tight, my body flushed. I felt antsy, like I couldn’t quite sit still. I paced as I waited for my dinner to heat up, but even as I ate, I fidgeted. Fingernails tapping against the table. Chopsticks stabbing into the reheated rice.
I just couldn’t relax.
I must have tossed and turned for an hour before I accepted the fact that I wouldn’t get any sleep unless I did something else to relax.
It was far too easy to recall his face in my mind, see his strong jaw and those smoky eyes. Easy to pretend that the hand pushing up my t-shirt, and then sliding under my panties, was his. My own fingers were so much smaller than his, but I let my mind fill in the blanks, change the way I knew things were.
His lips made their way down my stomach, his fingers brushing over the thin red curls, then dipping between my folds. I gasped, arched my back. As his finger entered me, his thumb moved over my swollen clit, sending wave after wave of pleasure through me.
“You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?” His voice was low, full of desire. “Come for me, Sine. Come, and then I’ll taste you. I want my mouth on you, want to bring you pleasure. I want to bury my cock in your tight pussy, fuck you until neither of us can see straight.”
The pressure on my clit was nearly unbearable, riding that thin line that only he seemed able to find. His free hand slid up to cover my breast, fingers rolling then twisting my nipple. Pleasure and pain blended together, and I writhed against his touch, wanting, needing...
I came with a shout, barely holding back his name. It was bad enough I’d been fantasizing about him and touching myself. Saying his name would make more of it than I wanted. He was attractive. Any straight woman or gay man could see that for themselves. It was no different than picturing another good-looking man. That’s all there was to it. Nothing more.
All that existed between Alix and me was a business relationship that was a touch more complicated than most.
Eleven
Alix
I always thought of myself as the sort of person who owned their actions. If I did wrong, I didn’t try to hide it. I accepted the consequences and tried to make better decisions.
Which was why I was feeling like shit for having taken things too far with Sine. And even worse for not being able to stop myself from thinking about her yesterday when my libido had gotten the better of me. When I’d gotten home, I had the shower so cold that I’d almost been shivering, but it hadn’t done a thing to diminish my throbbing erection. I’d known that only one thing could do that, and I hadn’t been able to hold back. It had been her face I’d seen as I wrapped my hand around my cock. Her voice I’d heard saying my name, heard moaning in pleasure.
And it had been her name I’d said when I’d reached my climax.
The guilt I’d felt when I was done hadn’t stopped me from dreaming about her. Or from thinking about her almost non-stop all morning when she was in the office. I had an all afternoon meeting with Jean to discuss my new line, so there’d be no modeling today, but as I worked on what I was going to tell Jean, Sine was in my head. Usually, when I had an idea, I saw around the model, but with this one, she was key.
Jean was waiting at our usual restaurant, already munching on her favorite appetizer. I barely sat down when our regular waiter brought over a bottle of Merlot. I wasn’t much for day drinking, but Jean and I always indulged in some wine with our business lunches. I was especially grateful for that today. I needed something to help me relax. My cock would’ve preferred a whole other course of action, but sex with Sine was off the table.
And my word choice, of course, made me think of spreading Sine out on the table, and I was glad that the way I sat kept anyone from seeing that just the thought of her was enough to make me hard.
“You look tired,” Jean observed. “I hope that’s a good thing. I’ve had two gallery owners call me, wanting to schedule a showing for Alix Wexler’s new line-up.”
“I have one,” I said and was pleased to see her relieved smile. “I tried a couple things and got inspired. I plan on talking to Sine tomorrow about signing the release papers.”
Jean’s eyes narrowed. “Sine? As in Sine McNiven? The nice Irish girl I hired to be the assistant you didn’t want?”
I took a drink of my wine and then swiped a stuffed mushroom from Jean’s plate. “You were right.”
“Did you choke on those words?” Jean asked with an amused smile. “They have to be hard to swallow.”
“Fine, fine.” I shook my head, laughing. “Enjoy your moment.” I slid a manila envelope across the table. “Then take a look at these.”
She opened the envelope after the waiter took our orders, taking her time to really look at each of the dozen photos I carefully selected. It was Jean’s usual practice. She needed to have an idea of what I wanted to do so she could sell it the best way.
“You had your assistant model for you.” She started through the pictures a second time, shaking her head. “Didn’t I tell you to behave yourself with her? She’s twenty-three years old, Alix. What were you thinking?”
I frowned. “I was thinking that Sine’s an adult who can make her own choices.”
Jean put the photos back into the envelope. “If she decides you pressured her into taking those, you could end up in serious legal trouble.”
&nbs
p; “I made sure the lines were clear,” I said, feeling like a little boy defending himself. “And I’m taking care of the legalities.”
“Will the new line be as erotic as these?” Jean asked, her tone strangely disapproving.
She’d never asked that before, not like that. When Jean and I had first sat down more than a decade ago to discuss how our professional relationship was going to work, she told me that she’d never try to direct my art, that she would only market it as I created it.
“You’ve never had a problem with my subject matter in the past,” I said mildly. “Why the change?”
Jean leaned forward. “She’s not a model, Alix. She’s a good kid.”
“Is this where I’m supposed to promise that my intentions are pure and that I won’t corrupt her?” I ran my finger around the rim of my glass.
“Could you promise any of that honestly?” Jean countered.
I considered her question. Were my intentions for Sine pure? Was I going to corrupt her if I followed through on my series idea?
I knew there were two ways to answer those questions, and they all depended on whether or not I could maintain the professional boundaries that Sine and I had set in place.
The series I wanted to do was more sexualized than these pictures. They would delve deeper into the life I kept private, and I knew I would have to expose that part of myself to Sine if I wanted her to trust me enough to do the series. Doing that would make it difficult to keep seeing her in a platonic way. If she was another model, it wouldn’t have been a problem, but there was something about her...
I didn’t believe there was anything wrong with my sexual preferences. I was of the belief that anything was permissible as long as it occurred between consenting adults. So, introducing Sine to my world wouldn’t corrupt her, but I wasn’t certain Jean would agree. And I certainly couldn’t tell her that I knew Sine wasn’t a virgin because the ensuing conversation about how, exactly, I’d come to learn that particular little tidbit wouldn’t lead anywhere good.
“She inspired me,” I said finally. “I’ve been...adrift for months. You know it. You’ve seen what I’ve tried to work with, but as soon as I started taking Sine’s photos, it was like I could see everything.”
Jean’s eyebrows went up. “I’ve never heard you talk like this before.”
“Because I’ve never met anyone like her before.” I drained the last of my wine. “Sine is my muse. She’s my inspiration, Jean. I can’t explain it, but when I’m with her...”
I let my voice trail off before I said something I couldn’t take back.
The expression on Jean’s face, however, suggested that she didn’t need words to see that inspiration wasn’t all that Sine meant to me, no matter how much I was trying to deny it.
Twelve
Sine
Since Alix hadn’t said anything to me yesterday about wanting me to model for him again, I decided that going into work early this morning would be the best way to avoid an awkward conversation. If I was already working when he came in, I could control the conversation, or at least look busy while he talked. If I looked into his eyes and saw that, for some unknown reason, he still wanted me, I couldn’t say I was confident in my ability to say no.
I told myself it was because he was good-looking, and that it was due to how he made me feel physically, but deep down I knew I was lying to myself with those excuses. I didn’t have the ability to fully explain what it was about him that drew me in and made me lose focus, but I knew I needed to get ahold of it if I could ever make this work.
Which brought me back to wanting to be in the office by the time Alix arrived.
The moment I reached the studio door and found it unlocked, however, I realized my plan already had failed. As I walked inside, Alix pushed off the table he’d been leaning against and walked toward me.
“I figured that since you bring me coffee all the time, I’d return the favor.” He raised his hands to show cups from the same bodega I’d purchased the two cups I held. “One can never have too much caffeine.”
I nodded dumbly. He’d caught me off-guard, showing up early, offering me coffee. If it hadn’t been for the fact that we’d already said no more sex, I might have thought he was trying to get me into bed again. Or that he felt guilty about us already having slept together.
“I have a proposition for you.” One corner of his mouth twitched. “A business proposal.”
“Okay. Will the office work?”
Alix nodded and led the way. He sat down in the chair in front of the desk and set one of the coffees on the desk. I put one of the drinks I bought in front of him and then walked around behind the desk. It felt strange, us sitting like this, as if he was the employee and I the employer, but I wasn’t going to do anything to change it. I needed the desk between us for both distance and perspective.
“I have a contract for you,” he said, gesturing to the papers on my desk. “Two, actually. The first is to move your assistant position from temporary to full-time. Jean is taking care of things on the temp agency side, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
That one was on top, I saw. He fell silent as I read through. It was fairly straightforward for a contract. A set salary – which was higher than I expected – as well as working hours, which holidays I’d have off, my new insurance provider, and a week’s worth of paid leave gained every two years up to six weeks off total. When I got to the part about how the first week would be available as soon as I signed, I stopped and looked up.
“This is too much.”
I waited for him to admit that he’d given me such a generous contract because he and I had slept together, but he just shrugged.
“I don’t really know what it says. I had Jean write it up so I wouldn’t be tempted to try to bribe you.”
My eyes narrowed. “Bribe me for what?”
He smiled. “Bribe you to sign the second contract. It’s the same as every other model contract I have, so you don’t have to worry about favoritism there.”
I set aside the assistant contract and started going through the other one. I managed to keep my expression neutral even as my brain struggled to accept the numbers I was reading. He set it up for me to be paid per session, as he’d said, with the first two ‘test’ sessions I’d already done being only a little less than any future sessions would be. With each session, I’d have a release form to sign, which gave me a bonus. A bonus that made each session worth more than I made at the temp agency in a month. If I declined to sign the release forms, any photos from that session would only be available to Alix to use privately, unless I wished to purchase them.
The way my stomach tightened told me that the idea of him hanging my photos on the walls of his apartment, or wherever he lived, was almost as nerve-wracking as having them on display.
The contract also allowed for the option to release only photos that didn’t show my face. I’d receive a smaller bonus than if I agreed to allow them all to be used, but it also kept me from having an all-or-nothing decision to make.
“This is the same contract all your models sign?”
Alix stiffened, making me wonder if it was me questioning, or if it was the fact that I said all your models.
“I’m not treating you any differently,” he said, the muscles in his jaw clenching. “I want you to model for me and be my assistant. If you would prefer one over the other, that’s your choice.”
I was struck by the strange impulse to reach across the desk and touch him, reassure him. I curled my hand into a fist.
“It just seems like a lot,” I said carefully. “I didn’t come to the States to be a model, or to make a lot of money.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re hesitating because I’m offering too much?”
When he said it like that, I felt pretty foolish, but I had to know. “Why me?”
Alix stood, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I thought we talked about this.”
I shook my head. “I know you thi
nk I don’t see myself clearly, but it’s not about that. We’ve done a couple sessions, but this contract says that you want me to do a whole new line. You mentioned it before, and I asked a similar question. You didn’t really answer me then, and I would like an answer now. Why do you want me to pose for a whole new line instead of hiring a professional?”
I was feeling pretty good about how matter-of-fact I sounded, but the piercing look Alix shot me made me think twice, and his gaze didn’t waver as he walked around to stand in front of me.
“I want you to be the model for my new series because you’re the inspiration behind it. The only one I can see in my head when I picture it.”
I stared at him. I didn’t know what the new series was, but how could I have been an inspiration for anything?
“Alix, I–”
He crouched in front of me, putting us at eye level. He reached out, tucked a curl behind my ear.
“Hear me out about it, at least?”
Dammit.
I nodded. How could I say no to a job that could give me enough money that I’d never again have to worry about failing here and having to return to Ireland? A job that would allow me to have a savings account for emergencies, something to fall back on if I needed it.
He pulled his chair around the desk so that we were sitting on the same side of it, our knees almost touching.
“You already know that I enjoy bondage.”
That sentence shouldn’t have made me need to press my thighs together.
“Well, I like doing more than that.” He kept his eyes on my face as he spoke, and I got the impression that he was waiting for me to freak out. “I’m into the whole BDSM package, and I want to do an entire series on it.”
I held up a hand. “You want me to pose for even kinkier pictures than me in my underwear with my hands tied?”