by Tina Donahue
* * * * *
That night, Mac and Jodi went at it until two in the morning. During the following days, he photographed her repeatedly before and after hours. She never complained. Many times, she was far more dogged about the photo shoot than he was. She brought in a ton of Avon makeup and applied it more carefully than Hilary ever had with the other models.
“I want to look good,” Jodi had said.
Mac heard the plea behind her words, knew she wanted to be desirable. Cultural expectations had denied her that, stupidly considering her too curvy, her freckles too sweet, glasses too unattractive.
If she couldn’t be buck-naked, Mac liked her best in jeans and T-shirts, sporting her specs. The woman he’d captured in his shots was an illusion without a soul, heart and the teasing he loved.
For days, Jodi asked to see her pictures, raw or Photoshopped. Mac kept putting her off without understanding why, even getting her promise that she wouldn’t go into the files without his permission. Pretending the shots would never be seen by anyone except him—especially some goddamn leering perv—was something he had to do for some measure of control, which seemed to be fading fast. Her car was finally finished. Without an excuse to pick her up or take her home any longer, Mac felt lost, his mood shitty because of it.
Even Chloe seemed to have noticed and mellowed as much she could when she was around him.
“We’re ready,” she announced to him.
He’d paused at Jodi’s desk to be near her. Annoyed by the interruption, Mac turned and glared at Chloe. She bared her teeth in what he guessed was a smile.
“Please?” she said.
“In. A. Minute,” he answered then spoke to Jodi. “Your car’s still okay? Everything’s working?”
She looked from Chloe to him and nodded. “It’s great. They did a wonderful job. Have you talked to Quinn yet about the photos? I can’t pay you back without the fee he’s giv—“
“Screw the money,” Mac interrupted. “I’ve told you repeatedly it doesn’t mean shit to me.”
“Because you’ve always had so much,” she shot back. “I haven’t. So it is important to me.”
Mac shoved his fists in his front pockets. He wanted to holler at her and hadn’t a clue why.
“Didn’t the photos turn out?” she murmured softly, peeking again at the others as if they might overhear. “Do you need to take more of them? Did I do something wrong?”
“Hell no. You were great. They’re great.”
“Then show me, please.”
“I can’t now. I’m busy. Clearly, we’re not alone.”
Chloe kept pacing closer, her skinny arms crossed over her chest.
“I’ll get to them,” Mac finally said to Jodi. “I swear.”
“When?” She was obviously confused since he never missed deadlines. “Isn’t Quinn waiting for them?”
He’d been bugging Mac about the shots for the last two days, asking to see something—no matter how small—so he could move forward with his new line.
“By the end of the week, I’ll show you what I have,” he said to her. “If you like what you see, then I’ll send them to Quinn.”
She nodded, her expression softening with trust.
Her confidence in him made Mac happy and uneasy at the same time. Shit, he was going nuts. “You up for a dog tonight?” Ever since they’d become intimate they’d hung out for hours. Even with her photo session over, Mad had insisted she come to the studio well before it opened so they could hang out some more.
“Sure. But I can’t stay out too late. I haven’t gone grocery shopping in weeks. I’m out of everything.”
He shrugged. “I’ll go with you. I can help haul stuff. We can pick up something there to eat.”
Jodi made a face. “It’s grocery shopping, Mac. We can’t…”
When she didn’t finish, he asked, “Can’t what?”
She leaned close and whispered, “Do anything to each other in the store. They’ll have us arrested.”
“I’ll be good.”
True to his word, Mac didn’t touch her in any inappropriate places while he strolled the aisles, pulling boxes and cans off the shelves, reading the ingredients as if he’d never done anything like this before.
Jodi suspected he hadn’t, finding her life an adventure he’d never had to face. For someone like him, it was a fun challenge to budget money, clip coupons, search for all the specials. At least until it became a bore, which would happen eventually.
Her heart cramped at the thought that this would be their first and last grocery trip together. Never had she wanted him more. He was so damn hot and adorable. Like a little boy with his first puzzle, trying to put all the pieces together.
Bent at the waist, Mac studied the store labels beneath the spaghetti sauces. Each showed the cost-per-ounce comparison between the brands.
Two middle-aged women reached past him for their choices. He apparently didn’t notice.
They stared at his hard ass and luscious profile then gave Jodi the once-over, dismissing her as though she had nothing to do with him. She could read their thoughts in their expressions—a hottie like him surely wouldn’t be with someone like her.
Sighing, Jodi checked the time. They’d been here forty minutes already. Mac looked as though he could go all night at this when he couldn’t find even a minute to work on her shots.
They had to be awful. That had to be why he hadn’t shown them to her yet. He didn’t want to waste any more time on trying to make her look good.
Unfortunately that was the least of Jodi’s worries. Without the fee, it’d take her forever to pay him back for her car. She couldn’t accept a long-term loan from him and certainly not a gift. Jodi didn’t want Mac to think that since they’d slept together, she’d take advantage of his generosity, expecting money or for him to pay for all their meals. A part of her knew that if she’d had the funds, she might have paid him to be with her.
That’s how lost she was. How much she liked him.
“This one,” he said, tapping the bottle of Prego. “It’s three cents cheaper than the other—wait, I think we have a coupon.” He checked his iPhone and beamed as if he’d just inherited Garner’s. “Fifty cents off. Awesome. I’m adding it to your shopping cart.”
Jodi’s stomach kept rolling. “Which of my shots did you like the best?”
Mac’s thumb stopped tapping his iPhone. A moment passed before he looked at her, his expression guarded. “All of them.”
“They can’t all be great. Which one stood out the most?”
He lowered his phone and sighed.
Oh crap, here it comes. He was going to tell her the shots were worse than her DMV photo. Drawing in her shoulders, Jodi braced herself for the worst.
Mac frowned. “Are you in pain?” He hesitated then leaned close and whispered, “Have you started your period?”
She blinked and shook her head. “Answer me. Which photo?”
He waited until a woman with two kids plodded by then said, “The one with the chastity belt and nipple rings, all right?”
Jodi thought back, recalling how he’d taken her photo in those items shortly after he’d had her on her knees adoring his cock. “It looks good? Really?”
“They all do.” He put the Prego in her basket. “Where’s the cheap wine?”
“Why?” Did he need a drink as badly as she did?
“We can’t have spaghetti without booze. What kind of cook are you?”
Jodi lifted her shoulders, her mind stuck on how he’d said “we”, as though they were a couple…or maybe just friends. That had to be it. Mac had fun when he was with her, just as he would with a guy, with the added bonus of sex.
“You can’t cook?” he finally said then sighed. “Looks as if tonight’s on my shoulders.”
“You’re going to make a meal for us?”
“Sure. How hard can it be? If I hit a problem, I’ll Google it on my phone or call Joe.”
She frowned. “Who’s Joe?
”
“The chef at Garner’s. Great guy. He can talk me through anything.”
Jodi laughed. “You do know there are cooking instructions on the packages.”
Mac picked up the box of spaghetti. His eyebrows lifted as he read the directions.
God, he was beautiful when he was clueless. “Do you eat out for every meal?”
“Nope.” He tossed the box back in her cart. “I get delivery or takeout sometimes.”
“You don’t even have coffee at your place?”
“There’s a Starbucks less than a mile away.” He leaned into her and murmured, “That’s why God made them, for guys like me.”
Wow, he really was a virgin at this. Tonight was going to be something.
* * * * *
As promised, Mac hauled Jodi’s groceries into her cramped apartment, which was just slightly larger than his office at the studio. He didn’t seem to notice her cheap living room furniture, all of it from yard sales. He paused briefly in the hall and glanced at the door to her bedroom before he strode into the kitchen.
“I’ll put everything away,” she said, “so you can start cooking.”
He slanted her a look that made her knees weak. “You don’t think I can do this, do you?”
“I don’t know. Can you?”
He pulled the stuff he needed out of the paper bags and read each container carefully, even the advertisements on the side. “If we finish this box tonight, we can turn it in for a discount on the next Terminator movie. Cool.” He explored her kitchen, opening then closing her cabinets.
Jodi leaned against the counter. “What do you need?”
“Sexually or for our meal?”
She laughed. “The food. I know what you like in the other department.”
“Seriously? I’ve forgotten. You may have to remind me.” With a roguish grin, he gestured to the box of spaghetti. “I need something to cook that it.” He glanced around then homed in on her coffeemaker.
Jodi quickly handed him a pot.
With his arms crossed over his chest, he watched the water, apparently waiting for it to boil, cursing when it didn’t do so quickly.
Jodi sprinkled salt into the water.
“Whoa.” He uncrossed his arms and pushed out his hand to keep hers away. “What are you doing to my stuff?”
“You mean your water?” She eyed the precious bulge between his legs then gave him a sweet smile. “Helping to increase its boiling point.”
Mac brought up Google on his iPhone, tapped something out, read whatever came up and nodded. “Okay. But don’t touch it again. Let me do it.”
Jodi lifted her hands in surrender and backed away. She busied herself with making them a salad and garlic bread.
Mac babied his spaghetti as though it were his first-born. He studied her spices and tasted a bit of each before choosing the ones he wanted to add to his pot.
She noted how he didn’t include onion powder to the mix, nor any of the fresh onions she’d bought. As though he wanted their breaths to be sweet for whatever came after dinner.
Her belly fluttered.
During their meal, Jodi kept gushing about his spaghetti, which wasn’t bad. The pasta was overcooked and he’d added too much sugar for her taste, but it was edible.
With his head tilted back, Mac held a strand of spaghetti over his mouth and licked it clean. “I think I put in too much cinnamon.”
“It’s fine.” She patted his hand.
Smiling, he held hers, not letting go even when they’d finished their food. They stared at each other, neither of them saying a word. Their kiss happened naturally, their mouths and bodies joined as they stumbled down the hall to her bedroom and fell onto the mattress.
The springs squeaked loudly from their combined weight. Clothes flew. Mac snatched his jeans to pull out several condoms. He made love to her missionary style, their gazes locked, smiles happy.
Because they’d had fun tonight, like the good buddies they were. Telling herself to be grateful for that, Jodi cradled him in her arms after they’d climaxed. He snuggled his head between her boobs, his chest billowing with harsh breaths.
When he calmed down, Mac held Jodi to him and stayed the night.
* * * * *
One day hurried after the other until it was the end of the week. Unable to delay the inevitable any longer, Mac emailed Jodi a dozen photos from her shoot. Six raw. Six Photoshopped.
Let me know what you think, he’d written.
Mac knew it was weird to email her the shots when the studio was empty and she was less than thirty feet away. However, he didn’t want to dwell on the photos. If she was on his lap, he figured they’d go through every one, reliving what happened during each.
After that, he’d still be reminded of what he had to do.
Mac ran his hand down his face and sighed deeply.
Several minutes passed before he heard Jodi’s footfalls nearing his door. Already tense, he found it hard to sit still. When the slap of her sandals stopped, Mac hesitated and looked over.
She frowned. Uncertain whether that was good or bad, he spoke cautiously, “You don’t like them?”
“Of course I do,” she blurted, her voice trembling. “They’re beautiful.” She studied him. “Why’d you email them to me?”
“Just being cute,” he lied.
She crossed the room and brushed her lips over his. “Thanks.”
Mac grabbed her wrist before she could move away. “For being cute?”
“Making me look good.”
“All I did was point the camera and click.”
Jodi waved her hand in dismissal. “Show them to Quinn, please.”
Mac released her and nodded.
* * * * *
Mac didn’t get around to emailing the shots until Monday. He kept letting things get in the way or forgetting the photos until Jodi and then Quinn brought them up again.
Forty minutes after he’d sent the email to Quinn, the man was on the line. “You fucking bastard, I want to kill you. I should tear you apart.”
“Bad day?” Mac asked.
Quinn laughed. An older man, his voice was scratchy from age and possibly too much booze. “Hell no, it’s not a bad day, it’s shitting great. Just like last week could have been if you hadn’t dragged your goddamn feet with these pictures. I love them. She’s perfect. I have to have her as the body for my line. What’s her name?”
Mac clenched his jaw so tightly his teeth hurt. “You like the shots.”
“Hell yeah. She’s fucking succulent. My god, her boobs and ass are giving me a hard—“
Mac pulled the phone away from his ear and pressed his fingers into the corners of his eyes. His pulse beat so hard he felt as if he’d sprinted up twenty flights of stairs.
His thoughts kept returning to Jodi’s surprise that Viv modeled nude when she had kids and a husband. A guy who didn’t seem to mind how she exposed her body to the world. It was natural. Nothing to be ashamed of. The argument Mac had given Jodi, his enlightened views just what this goddamn country needed. Cold, hard logic untainted by need, desire, jealousy.
Love.
He brought his iPhone back to his ear.
“Hey,” Quinn shouted. “Why am I talking to myself? Are you still there?”
Mac spoke through his teeth. “I am.”
“Email me the final contracts,” Quinn said. “I’ll have my attorney look them over today so we can—“
“Not going to happen,” Mac said before he knew he would. “She can’t do it. She’s not available.”
There was a moment’s silence then the sound of Quinn’s pissed huff. “What do you mean she can’t do it? You just sent me her photos.”
“Her guy doesn’t want her doing it, all right?” Mac shot back. “He doesn’t want to share her with the fucking world.”
Mac knew he was wrong to think such a thing or to do this, but he simply couldn’t display Jodi. He realized it now. She’d only agreed to do this—hell, she’d
let him coax her into this because she needed the money. Modeling Quinn’s shit wasn’t her life. It wasn’t her fucking career.
He didn’t want to share her with anyone and didn’t want to know why.
“That doesn’t make any fucking sense,” Quinn snapped. “This is America. Since when do men tell their women what to do and the women actually listen?”
“She’s not available,” Mac said, calmer now, his decision made. All he had to do was tell Jodi.
Chapter Eleven
When it came to Mac and her photos, Jodi was beginning to feel like a nagging wife with an absentminded husband. No, scratch that. With a man who didn’t hear her any longer or even care about his client.
Mac seemed completely indifferent to whatever Quinn might have wanted or expected, despite the fact he was a paying customer. Never had Jodi seen Mac behave like that with anyone else.
Chewing the side of her thumb, she glanced at him. His back was to her, hair tousled, shoulders dangerously broad. Willow, Samantha and Nadine certainly seemed to notice his raw male power and heat. Their carnal hunger didn’t appear to be all show for the camera.
Jodi’s gut twisted with jealousy that she had no business feeling. At most, she and Mac were friends and fuck buddies. She’d never own his heart.
On a weary sigh, she dragged her attention away from the models and brought up her photos, worried that her first reaction might have been way off. She’d expected them to be horrible and when they hadn’t been, she might have made more of the shots than she should have.
Braced for disappointment, she forced herself to look at them again.
The breathtaking angles still stunned, just as they had the first time. Mac had stood on the stool to shoot her from above then he’d knelt on the floor to capture her from that position. Both angles had accentuated her breasts and cunt.
She swallowed.
His lighting created dramatic shadows that spilled across her pale skin, stopping just short of the crotchless thong, chastity belt, elaborate cincher and finally the corset-harness, displaying the garments in exquisite and sensual detail. The nipple rings glinted seductively against her areolas, the erect tips as rosy as her mouth. She’d used her lip stain on each.