by Tina Donahue
She went to the center of the room and glanced down the hall at his office. He still had his door closed.
“Ah, hon, we’re over here,” Willow said.
She and the other two models reclined on the sofa. One of them was blonde, like Krista but more delicate in appearance, her fragile beauty almost unreal. The last model, a lovely Hispanic with chestnut hair and olive skin, had her iPhone glued to her ear.
Jodi hauled the bags to them.
“Get us some napkins,” Willow said. “I saw plates in the kitchen too. We’ll need some of—“
“Those are Mac’s,” Jodi interrupted. “Don’t touch them.”
Willow blinked. Jodi’s phone rang. She hurried to her desk to answer it. “Callaghan Studios.”
“Hi, this is Stan over at Morris Motors. I’d like to speak to Jodi Bishop.”
Aw god, her car. She’d forgotten about it. “I’m Jodi. Did you find out what’s wrong?”
“Sure did.” For the next several minutes, he cataloged the problems.
Jodi’s legs finally gave out when he gave her the estimate.
“Are you sure?” she asked, slumped in her chair. “That seems so high.”
“It needs a lot of work, ma’am.”
There was a loud clang in the background, as though someone had dropped a metal rod, then men’s voices shouting something.
“Do you want us to do the work?”
“Will the car run with only some of it done?”
“’Fraid not. All of the problems are related.”
Jodi’s stomach continued to churn. No way did she have thousands to spend on anything. “Can I call you back?”
“Sure, we’ll be here ‘til six.”
Her hand shook as she lowered the receiver. For the rest of the afternoon, she struggled with what to do. Without a car, she couldn’t get here. No way could she ask Mac to pick her up indefinitely or pay so much for the repairs. She’d thought they’d be eight hundred dollars, maybe a thousand at most.
She checked her bank balance and recalculated her expenses until her eyes blurred.
At five fifteen, the delicate blonde tripped on one of the props and banged her elbow. She insisted on continuing despite her pained grimace.
Mac gave her a couple of Excedrin and told her to relax. “Everyone take twenty,” he called to the others then padded to his office. Jodi followed.
When Mac noticed, he grinned, pulled her inside and kissed her hard. “I’m glad you’re here. I want to show you something.”
“What?”
“What I’ve been doing.” He led her to his desk and practically pushed her down into his chair. “Look at my screen.”
Jodi gripped the arms of his chair. “I’d rather not.”
“Come on, don’t be such a baby.” He stood behind her. With his hands on either side of her head, Mac turned her face to the screen. “Look.”
Just what she needed, more bad news. On a weary sigh, Jodi did what he asked. Her breath caught.
Mac came around to the side of her chair and hunkered down. “What do you think? Be honest.”
What he’d done with her photos was amazing. They had a brownish-yellow cast as though they’d been taken centuries ago. Somehow he’d made her hair a mass of elaborate waves on top while also lengthening it until the ends skimmed her breasts. He’d replaced the leather collar with a brown velvet ribbon that had a cameo in the center. Her leather corset thingy was now made of satin and lace with pretty bows trailing down the front.
In dozens of pictures, he hadn’t changed her body or face at all. She was still big compared to today’s ideal woman, but with the dated outfit and tint she looked good, nearly hot.
A tear skidded down her cheek. Oh hell. Jodi waved her hand in front of her face so she wouldn’t cry.
Mac touched her arm. “You don’t like them?”
He sounded so uncertain, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him as hard as she could. “They’re gorgeous. I look good.”
“Fuck that. You’re beautiful.”
Jodi’s shoulders trembled with her sudden sobs.
“Hey.” Mac pulled back and cupped her face in his hands. “This was supposed to make you happy. To show you this is how you really look.”
“I’m sorry. I love them. I’m just…”
“Overcome with gratitude?”
“Worried.”
Obviously surprised, he thumbed tears from her cheeks. “Why?”
Jodi sniffed then told him how much she’d owe if she got her car fixed.
Mac shrugged. “No biggie. I told you I’d take care of it.”
“No you won’t. I can ’t accept that much money from you. I’ll never be able to pay it back. I thought about selling Avon like my mom but I can’t depend on the commissions. I could get a part-time job at night but I’d have to have a car to get there. Even if I use the bus, it’d take so long that’d eat into the time I’d need to work. I—“
“Jodi. It’s all right. In fact it’s great. I have an idea.”
She wiped her nose off with the back of her hand. “What? Not a raise,” she said quickly. “I don’t deserve it. I haven’t been here that long.”
Mac smiled softly. “No not a raise.” He eased her hair behind her ear.
“What then?”
There was a loud rap on his door. Mac pushed to his feet and turned. Cait popped her head inside. “Bethany said she’s feeling better. She and the others want to get a move on. They’d like to leave at a reasonable hour tonight. So would Hilary and I.”
“Be right there,” Mac promised.
Cait shot him a look that said he’d better and left, leaving his door open. Mac gave Jodi a quick kiss then headed out.
“Wait,” she said, reaching for him. “What were you going to tell me?”
He gave her a mysterious smile. “Call the garage and tell them to start work on your car.” With that, he left.
Chapter Seven
Although Mac had a solution to Jodi’s problem—something he’d thought about even before they’d become intimate—he didn’t want to simply dump it on her or have to sell the idea. The likelihood of him changing her mind about anything was slim to none.
Of all the women he’d known, Jodi seemed practical to the extreme even if she’d loosened up a bit this morning. Mac could only attribute her behavior to a traditional upbringing. If she’d been raised in Europe or with shockingly rich parents, little would have fazed her.
She certainly wouldn’t have bought into this country’s schizophrenic attitude about sexuality. On one hand, using tits and asses to sell every freaking thing imaginable. On the other, condemning nudity loudly because nice girls simply didn’t take their clothes off. Talk about fucked-up thinking that ultimately put women in a bind that men never had to deal with.
He felt for her but she’d have to make up her own mind about what he was going to propose.
During his shoot, Jodi studied him, not bothering to glance away when their eyes met. Hers questioned. Pretending not to notice, Mac gave her a quick wink or a brief smile.
At last he finished. Hilary and Cait hurried out, followed quickly by Willow and the other models, leaving him and Jodi alone.
Mac padded to the front door.
“What’s your idea?” she asked. “About how I can pay for my car?”
Mac threw the dead bolt then went to her chair. “Stand up.”
She didn’t. “Why?”
“Because I said so. Because I’m the boss. Because I’m going to spank you if you don’t.”
A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, momentarily erasing her worry. “Is this finally later?”
He wished. “I have to show you something.”
Her attention fell to his fly. Fighting laughter, Mac grabbed Jodi’s arm and tugged her from the chair. He took her place, liking how her body had heated up the cloth cushion, then pulled her onto his lap.
“Bring Google up and key in what I say.”
/> She kept her face turned to his, their lips nearly touching. “Okay.”
Her sweet voice and inviting fragrance coaxed his lids down. His head sagged back on his shoulders. She kissed his jaw.
“Nice,” he whispered.
Jodi made a pleased sound. “Is that what you wanted me to key?”
“Huh?”
“The word nice?”
How quickly he’d forgotten why they were in front of her computer. “Ah no. Are your fingers on the keyboard?”
“Give me a sec.” She turned to face the screen rather than him. Once she’d brought up Google, Mac rested his chin on her shoulder and played with her nipples.
Her faint whimper said she liked that.
Not wanting to distract her too much, Mac slid his hands to her tummy. “Key in Intimate Knights.” His forefinger ran up and down the fly of her jeans. “Knights with a K, the kind who wore armor and carried swords.”
Jodi fixed what she’d keyed in then sagged into him. Losing control, he ran his hand over her boobs, squeezing them. She purred contentedly.
Oddly enough, the sounds she made reminded Mac of what they should be doing. “Ah, hit Enter.”
She snuggled closer to him before doing as he requested.
“Click on the first link that comes up,” he said.
The second the website jumped on the screen, Jodi was on full alert, backing away from the computer and into him. “What is this?”
“Foreplay.” Unable to resist any longer, Mac sucked the back of her neck and slid his hand over her cunt.
“Not what you’re doing.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed, no doubt wanting his attention on what she was saying. “What’s that on the screen?”
Mac cradled her closer. “It’s an online store for intimate apparel and other stuff people use to party in bed, on the floor, in their pools and in office chairs. You know, wherever their imaginations and hormones take them.”
“Stuff like sex toys?”
She sounded more intrigued now than horrified. Nice. “Among other things.”
“Hey, there’s a link for spanking tools. Is this later?” she asked, turning to him again.
Mac’s chest quivered with his laughter. “No.”
Jodi’s eyebrows drew together. “Then why are we looking at—?“ She stopped on a sharp intake of breath. “Is this what you were going to tell me before Cait barged in? This company needs someone to update their website like I do with yours? Do they need it redone? I’ve gotten good at Quark since I’ve been here. I could work on their pages during my lunch break and in the morning before I come in and after the studio closes for the day. There’d even be weekends I could give them.”
No shit, since she apparently wouldn’t be giving him any of her time. Mac fought a frown and sighed. “They don’t need anyone to work on their website. Quinn, the owner, likes it just fine.”
So did Mac. To his way of thinking, the site was surprisingly artistic. Kind of what he would have done with the design if he’d owned that kind of business. There wasn’t any hard sell or over-the-top sexuality that screamed porn. The photos were more like stills from European art films, the images artfully posed and nicely lit, radiating sensuality.
Similar to his work, though not quite as good. The reason Quinn had contacted Mac and how they’d come to know each other.
She studied the screen. “They need a part-time customer service rep?”
Cradling Jodi’s cheek, Mac turned her face to his. Her freckles were so fucking sweet. God he loved them. Hell, he liked her glasses too. Her eyes were wide with expectation and with what he figured was hope he was about to give her a lead on a second job that would help pay for her car. What he was about to suggest would do that easily.
“Quinn’s starting a new line called Naughty Knights. He phoned earlier in the week, telling me what kind of woman he’s looking for to represent his new products. The person he described is you.”
She’d heard what Mac had said but didn’t understand what he meant. “He wants someone like me to sell his products?”
“More like represent.”
“As a spokesperson.”
“A model.”
Jodi glanced at the screen. The homepage had a sidebar with links to the spanking items she’d mentioned, along with intimate toys and apparel, BDSM paraphernalia, fetish items and other stuff. Her body kept going hot and cold, uncertain which temperature to settle on. “A model on the Internet? For everyone to see?”
“You have nothing to be worried about. Your body’s beautiful. Lush and ripe.”
Jodi leaned away from him and frowned. “No it’s not. I’m too big. You know it. I know it. And if my pictures were plastered all over this site, everyone would know it.”
He matched her frown. “I’ve already shown you how you really look—in reality, not in your mind—in the shots I’ve taken.”
“After you messed with them on Photoshop.”
“The only things I changed were your hair and what you were wearing. Not your body or face.”
“Oh my god.” Jodi’s hand went to her chest. “You did that to convince me to do this.”
“What? No.” He leaned away from her. “There are tons of models out there I could use. I wouldn’t have even brought this up if you hadn’t cried about needing money for your car, which I’m more than happy to give or lend you. Whatever the hell you want.”
“I can’t do either and you know it.”
“Fine. Then that leaves this gig and your ongoing representation of the line. The position will pay enough for you to buy a couple Mercedes plus a lot of other stuff.”
The room lurched. Gripping Mac’s arm to steady herself, Jodi looked at the screen then quickly shook her head. “Oh god no. I could never do that.”
“Because of how bad you think you’d look or because it isn’t what good girls do?”
She curled her upper lip, hating how that sounded. “I wasn’t raised to do this kind of stuff.”
“You mean porn, like what I do.”
“What? No. Of course not.” Jodi lost her attitude and cupped his face gently. “Your photos are gorgeous. They’re artistic.”
“Let’s get brutally honest, all right? They’re shots of naked women, some with BDSM elements thrown in.”
“Well yeah, but—“
“You don’t have to convince me. I know I’m not doing anything wrong. Why anyone freaks out about the human form or sex between consenting adults is a mystery to me. Breasts, cunts and cocks are not something to be ashamed of and hidden like they’re fucking defects only pervs have. Sex is simply another part of normal life, like breathing and eating. If everyone stopped making such a big deal about all this shit, maybe the rest of us could enjoy it without the guilt trip.”
Jodi had never seen him so agitated. She wondered if Mac’s parents had ridiculed his work or if this was about her reaction to it. “You mean me,” she murmured. “You think I’m judging you.”
His expression changed. He pulled her into him in a gentle caress, his hand on the back of her head. “No I don’t mean you. If you had judged me, you would have taken off screaming that first day.”
Laughing softly, she buried her face in his neck. “I have to be honest. I did bring in Lysol wipes the following morning. Every time Krista parks her bare butt on my desk, I clean it afterward.”
Mac’s shoulders shook with his laughter. “Can’t blame you for that.”
She smiled then sighed at him rubbing her back. “You really think I look that good?”
“Would I have told you about this if I didn’t think so?”
No. He wasn’t a cruel man. “Quinn actually said he wants a full-figured woman?”
“The word he used was voluptuous, like the kind of females Da Vinci and the other masters used to paint. He was the one who got me thinking about you in an old-fashioned corset.”
“About that…” She ran her fingers over the collar of his tee. “I liked what you did with my ha
ir.”
“The stuff on top or between your—“
Jodi slapped his arm, interrupting him. “On my head.”
“Trust me, it was a bitch to do. I’m sure as hell no stylist.”
She slipped her arms around his neck, prepared to ask what she never thought she would. “What about my freckles?”
“I really like them.”
Jodi smiled at the honesty in his voice then sighed, indecision suddenly gripping her as to what she should do. “I’m sure Quinn wouldn’t.”
“He’d never see them.”
“Right. Because of makeup.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Mac eased back and regarded her. “Most of the shots for these sites are body parts. An ass, cunt or breasts. For full portraits on Quinn’s site the women are—here, let me show you.”
Reaching around her, he clicked on one of the links. Jodi’s lips parted at the exquisite facemasks the women wore, many of them with feathers, beading or sequins in vibrant hues. Turquoise. Scarlet. Gold. Silver. Violet. Surprisingly the model’s eyes matched the color of their masks, which hid their features completely. Any of the blondes could have been Krista, the brunettes Nadine or one of Mac’s other models. There wasn’t any way to tell.
Jodi’s heart continued to race. She dug her fingers into Mac’s tee. “What does he want modeled?”
“Don’t know. He shipped a box of the stuff here. It should arrive tomorrow.”
“He didn’t give you any clue what it might involve?”
Mac hesitated a moment then said, “The main theme’s BDSM.”
Jodi’s fingers tightened on Mac’s tee then loosened, only to grip the garment again. Whether due to horror or excitement, Mac didn’t know. He’d seen the shock and fascination on her face when he’d photographed Rocco shackling, whipping and subjugating the female models. Mac guessed some of those delightfully dirty scenes had matched Jodi’s fantasies. They sure as hell spoke to the ones he’d had but didn’t want to dwell on now.
Already her weight and warmth had plumped up his boys and stiffened his cock, making his jeans feel unbearably snug. He would have stripped down and plowed into her but figured she wouldn’t appreciate him coming on so strong when she was still worried about her car.