by Tina Donahue
Jodi stopped fighting him. “About what?” She frowned and then her face paled so quickly her freckles really stood out. “About you sleeping with one of the models? Is that it?” She laughed. “Hey, you don’t owe me any explanation or anything else for that matter. I just work here, or rather I did.”
“Not with that shitty attitude you don’t.” Mac released her wrist. “How dare you accuse me of screwing around on you? I’m not the one who’s been too busy to talk much less screw around. Who have you been seeing?”
She curled her upper lip. “No one and you damn well know it.”
“Now I’m psychic too? Wow. If you hate me that much—“
“Hate you?” She staggered back as if he’d punched her. “Are you nuts?”
Clearly Jodi thought that questioning his sanity was a good way to show her affection. Mac was so pissed he wanted to put his fist through the goddamn wall. He spoke through his teeth. “I thought we had a good time. I thought you enjoyed it.”
Her eyes got shiny.
Mac’s stomach fell. He hadn’t expected their good times to push her to tears. Shit. “Apparently, I was wrong,” he said then muttered, “I still want to know how you found out about the gig. Did Quinn call you?”
A tear slipped down Jodi’s cheek. She brushed it away. “What gig? Why would Quinn call me?”
“Because he was fucking pissed when I told him you couldn’t model for his line, why else? The stupid bastard kept arguing with me but I kept telling him no.”
Jodi’s eyes got wider and wider, which released more tears. “Why would you do that? You told me I looked good. Did you lie about—?“
“Fuck no. You did look beautiful. You’re unbelievably beautiful,” he continued to shout. “I didn’t want to share you. I don’t want anyone ogling you. Dammit, that’s my job—or it was my job until you decided you couldn’t stand me anymore.”
“What are you talking about?” she cried.
“I know you think I’m a dog. That I screw every woman who comes along. You also think I’m a moron when it comes to grocery shopping and cooking. So I’m not Wolfgang Puck. So fucking what? I like being with you. It kills me when we’re not together. Surely that should count for something. I love your glasses. Hell, I live for your freckles. I know you don’t like them but I think they’re cute. Your laugh makes me laugh. I like when you smile. Shit, Jodi, I love you.”
She stared at him, her hand pressed to her chest, tears streaming down her face.
When her quiet weeping turned to noisier sobs, Mac felt more helpless than he ever had. “You can’t quit. I don’t want you to. Please don’t.”
Her mouth quivered. She shuffled toward him as though lead weighted her legs. Her hands were icy against his cheeks. “You love me. Seriously?”
“Sure, seriously. What other way is there? I’m not an expert at this but—“
“Why? How did it happen?” she asked, sounding stunned.
He frowned. “I don’t know. It just did. Probably when I was trying to zip you into your leather straitjacket. Hell, I’ve never had so much fun with anyone before. I don’t want it to stop. If you don’t feel the same about—“
“I adore you, Mac.”
He pulled her into him and hugged her hard, absolutely refusing to let go. She’d declared herself and dammit, he wasn’t going to let her ever forget it. “Thanks.”
Her breaths hitched. She nodded.
“This is good, right?” he asked.
She nodded once more.
“Then why are you crying? Why’d you put us through hell these last days? If Quinn’s gig means that much to you I can call him and tell him it’s back on. He’ll be thrilled.”
“You wouldn’t.”
No. It’d eat at Mac that any other man would be enjoying what belonged to him. Too damn bad, right? He didn’t own Jodi and he shouldn’t have kept the truth from her for so long. “Not my call.”
“Bull.” She smacked his ass. “The moment we fell in love with each other it became our decision.”
“Fine. I don’t want you doing it. Ever.”
“Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to. I don’t care about that at all. But I don’t want you to ever make decisions for me, understand?”
“I was wrong and stupid and scared. No excuse, I know. I should have been straight with you. I figured since I more or less pushed you into this that I’d get you out of it before anything happened—like the world seeing you on the net. I didn’t mean for it to get so out of hand. Damn.” He pushed his fingers through his hair. “Can you ever forgive me?”
Jodi looked surprised. “Of course.”
“Then why do you want to quit? What else have I done? Tell me and I’ll fix it.”
She pressed her face against his shoulder. “You didn’t do anything.”
“Then what?”
She curled her fingers in his T-shirt. “When I thought the dumb gig fell through, I started doubting myself. You’re surrounded by naked women all the time. They’re beautiful.”
“They’re not you.” Mac eased back and slipped his fingers beneath her chin, tilting her face to his.
She looked embarrassed and sad. “They want you. They’re always coming on to you.”
“No they’re not. The few who do act that way so they’ll get more sitting fees and gigs. If you think I’m hot, then I thank you, but you’re dead-fucking wrong about the models. This is business to them.”
“Them wanting you is a calculated ploy?” She frowned. “Are they blind?”
Mac rolled his eyes. “Can’t have it both ways, babe. Either you’re happy they’re simply trying to use me or you sing my praises so they’ll—“
“Any of them touch you at all and I’ll smack them until they behave…if that’s okay with you.”
“You have my blessing.” He hugged her again then let go and closed the blinds.
Jodi wiped tears from her eyes. “What are you doing?”
Mac yanked off his shirt and flung it across the studio. “You denied me for over a week. That’s nine fucking days. If you haven’t been counting, I have.”
“It’s actually been ten days.”
“See,” he accused, pointing at her. “I’m so horny I can’t even think straight.”
“Well if you want to blame it on that.”
Mac refused to smile at her joke. “My first shoot isn’t for hours.” He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down the fly. “I’m going to play hooky until then. So are you.” Nude, he padded to her and growled, “Get naked, baby, or else.”
Jodi moved into him, her hand loving his cock. Mac swallowed.
She whispered, “Or else what?”
For the next several hours, Mac showed her.
Epilogue
Every cooking appliance imaginable filled the counters in the luxury condo.
The first time Mac had brought Jodi here, she was stunned that his only furniture had been a king-size bed and an equally huge LCD TV. The place would have been totally stark if not for the lush black-and-white photos of his models hanging on every wall.
Those shots were gone now, the condo finally and properly furnished with an eclectic mix of modern and classic furniture that spoke to each of their tastes and somehow seemed to go together. Just as they did. Over the months, she and Mac had chosen each piece with loving care, making this place a home. Their home… Jodi had moved in several weeks ago, cementing their relationship and love.
The rich scents of garlic, onion and tomato drew her to the stove. She dipped the wooden spoon into the spaghetti sauce, eager for a taste.
Mac rushed over. “Hell no.” He took the spoon away and slapped her hand. “Bad girl. Out of my kitchen.”
Since he’d taken private cooking classes from a celebrity TV chef, Mac had become a real SOB when it came to his dishes, troubling over them as he did his photos. Delis, mega-expensive restaurants and dogs were in the past for him and her. Mac cooked as many meals for them as he could, liking that they could d
ine in the nude and eat his concoctions off each other.
Jodi had especially enjoyed his lamb chops. Partly for the succulent meat but mainly for the chocolate port sauce he’d dribbled on her mouth, nipples and mound, before licking her clean and taking her on the dining room table as though they were porn stars. She’d indulged in his cock and balls after slathering them with the barbeque sauce he’d made from scratch. His boys and rod tasted better than his Kansas City-style ribs, which were outstanding.
Good times. Unfortunately both of them were dressed now and wouldn’t be eating each other until much, much later.
She sighed. “You’re a prick, know that.”
“Thanks.” He tasted his sauce, frowned then added another sprinkle of Parmesan. “Better not say that while your folks are here though. For their sake, let’s at least pretend we’re getting along.”
Jodi sagged against the counter with her giddy laughter. She and Mac got along so well it was an effort to pull themselves off each other, whether they were in bed or the Jacuzzi, on the sofa, chairs, tables, counters or floors. When they weren’t screwing as though their lives depended upon it, or working at the studio, Mac was shooting Jodi.
Her hair was now shoulder length, as Mac liked. Although she could have afforded contacts, Jodi still wore glasses. Not only were they comfortable, Mac really dug them and insisted they be in each of her photos. Those G-rated portraits graced the living room walls, telling the world what he found beautiful.
The X-rated versions with her in masks, restraints and no end of kinky leather stuff were in an album in his underwear drawer, shoved all the way to the back. Away from the prying eyes of their cleaning service and Jodi’s mom and dad.
Her parents hadn’t been thrilled that she was shacking up with Mac but they liked him nonetheless, treating him as a member of the family. He’d been incredibly good to them, using his endless connections to help her folks get decent jobs. Jodi’s dad was now a manager at a Los Angeles manufacturer, putting his decades of skill and wisdom to good use. Her mom had a full-time office position at one of the area’s largest grocery chains. For the first time in forever, they didn’t have to worry about paying their bills.
Mac put down his spoon and surveyed the kitchen, his eyes narrowed. “We’re forgetting something.”
Jodi couldn’t imagine what. It was only dinner for her parents not a banquet for a film star and her entourage. There was more food here than any of them could eat in several sittings. In addition to the spaghetti, Mac had garlic bread baking in the oven, and pot stickers and mozzarella sticks sizzling away in separate skillets. Earlier, he’d put together a Caesar salad tossed with his homemade dressing.
When he hadn’t been looking, Jodi had snuck spoonfuls of the ultra-rich mixture, fighting her moans of delight.
“Dessert,” he suddenly said. “Oh shit. You forgot to get that cake your dad likes.”
“Did not. I put it on the counter.”
“Which one?”
She wasn’t certain any longer. For the last few hours, Mac kept sending her on runs to the grocery store to get stuff he’d forgotten. While she’d prowled the aisles, he’d guided her by phone to choose the exact items he wanted.
“Don’t rush,” he’d said during one of the earlier trips. “This has to be right.”
“It’s only oregano,” she’d sighed.
He’d huffed in what sounded like impatience. “There are thirteen varieties.”
Jodi hadn’t been certain whether he’d been putting her on or not. The last time Mac had stunned her to silence was when he’d told her that Leonard Nimoy, aka Mr. Spock of Star Trek fame, was also a renowned photographer of female nudes. Jodi hadn’t believed it for a second until Mac had brought up Mr. Spock’s work on the net.
She pushed empty bags aside and lifted the dishtowels Mac had been using.
The pink cake box was under one of them. “Found it.”
“Put it on a serving tray. Make it look nice.”
“Why? All Dad needs is a fork and he’s happy.”
Mac arched one eyebrow. “I thought we wanted to impress them tonight.”
“We are. We’re using our stainless steel forks instead of the plastic ones you had.” There were still drawers filled with them.
He laughed then gave her his puppy dog look. “Come on. Do it nice.”
Smiling, Jodi pulled a tray out of the cabinet and opened the bakery box. Despite her glasses, she squinted, stared then froze.
“What?” Mac padded to her. “Is it spoiled?”
He obviously knew zip about baking. But when it came to her heart, Mac understood what Jodi had always needed. Her hand shook so badly she put several dents in the fudge icing as she dug out the antique ring. The center diamond was emerald cut, modest in size, as Jodi preferred. Tiny diamonds surrounded it and graced the double band.
She pressed her fingers to her mouth. Tears clouded her vision.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
She threw her arms around Mac’s shoulders. His obvious need of her was more important to Jodi than any outward symbol of his love. He was gorgeous, rich and successful but Jodi knew he didn’t care about any of that. His needs ran far deeper. He wanted her at his side. They were buddies, lovers and soul mates. She’d given Mac a home and stability he’d never experienced. He’d opened up a world of adventure to her that Jodi had always been too timid to enter.
Who could’ve guessed either of them would get this lucky.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “Almost as gorgeous as you.”
His chest quivered with his quiet laughter. “Please don’t say that in public. I’d hate to have to fight to prove how macho I am.”
Jodi ground her hips into his, loving how his shaft thickened so easily for her and because of her. “Just whip out your cock. Even a soldier of fortune would fall to his knees in terrified wonder.”
Mac laughed so hard he sagged against the counter, his arms still wrapped around her. “I’ll have to remember that if I ever get into a rumble with one of them.”
She made a sound of acknowledgment and swallowed.
“What are you doing?” He eased back.
Jodi stopped sucking fudge icing off her ring. “Put it on me.”
Once he had, they both grinned then kissed. Long, slow, deep and wet.
Until the grease in his skillets popped and the front doorbell chimed.
About Tina Donahue
Tina Donahue is an award-winning, bestselling novelist in erotic romance, and an admitted chocoholic known to down semi-sweet candy bars in grocery checkout lines. She lives with her family in Palm Springs, California, where tires melt in the 120-degree summer heat and an occasional earthquake puts everyone on notice to bolt things down. When she’s not writing her steamy stories, trying to stay cool, or crawling beneath her desk during a trembler, she loves shopping, eating at her favorite Mexican restaurant and meeting other authors. Before she wrote romance, Tina was the editor of an award-winning Midwestern newspaper and worked in Story Direction for a Hollywood production company.
Tina welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Tina Donahue
Adored
Appointment with Pleasure 1: Claiming Magique
Appointment with Pleasure 2: Losing Control
Appointment with Pleasure 3: Illicit Intent
Appointment with Pleasure 4: Seven Sensuous Days
Carnal Takeover
Deep, Dark, Delicious
In His Arms
Lush Velvet Nights
Sensual Stranger
Sinfully Wicked
SiNN
Take Me Away
/> Taking Eve
Wicked Takeover
Print books by Tina Donahue
Adored
Appointment with Pleasure 1:Claiming Magique
Appointment with Pleasure 2: Losing Control
Sinfully Wicked
SiNN
Take Me Away
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Erotic Takeover
ISBN 9781419994029
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Erotic Takeover Copyright 2015 Tina Donahue
Edited by Jill Noelle
Cover design by Allyse Leodra
Cover photography by Shutterstock, hennyka
Electronic book publication April 2015
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.