by Calista Fox
Melt Me
Calista Fox
Book 2 in the Body Scenes series.
Trendy columnist Yvette has wanted Finn for years. The feeling is mutual, but Finn, a renowned artist, has yet to let pleasure come before business. He wants Yvette to model for a series of paintings for his next showing at the exclusive nightclub and naughty art gallery, Body Scenes. Unfortunately, the perfect theme hasn’t materialized in his usually creative mind. That is, until a heat wave hits Manhattan and the idea of hot, slick, naked body parts causes inspiration to strike.
Armed with custom ice sculptures, Finn turns a steamy photo shoot into a wet and wicked affair to remember!
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Melt Me
ISBN 9781419932779
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Melt Me Copyright © 2011 Calista Fox
Edited by Briana St. James
Cover art by Syneca
Electronic book publication March 2011
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
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.
Melt Me
Calista Fox
Acknowledgements
Melt Me is the second story in the Body Scenes series, set in Manhattan and featuring characters associated with an upscale nightclub and naughty art gallery. The characters are all bold and daring and open to new experiences. Fun to write about and hopefully fun for you to read about. Thanks for continuing on with the series—there’s more to come!
And a special thanks to my editor, Bree, for helping to shape the series!
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Roberto Cavalli: Roberto Cavalli S.P.A. Corporation
Ritz Carlton: The Ritz-Carlton Hotel Company L.L.C
Chapter One
Yvette Samson stripped her curve-hugging Roberto Cavalli dress from her body before the door to her contemporary, midtown condominium even closed behind her. Wearing nothing but a black lace bra, matching boy-short panties and her four-inch stilettos, she walked into her bedroom and tossed the dress over the back of the armchair in the far corner. She crossed to the bed and threw back the crimson-colored duvet, then dragged the satin top sheet off the mattress.
Carrying the sheet into the living room, she draped it haphazardly over the enormous, high-backed sofa that served as the centerpiece of the artistically decorated room. Next, she retrieved a tall, oscillating fan from the hall closet, plugged it in, positioned it to blow on the sofa and cranked it to high. She stood in front of the stream of air for several minutes, letting the wind tunnel she’d created cool her hot, dewy skin. The quick change in temperature tightened her nipples behind the lacy cups of her bra. The breeze from the fan on the moist crotch of her panties was as stimulating as fingers brushing over the sensitive spot, a whisper of a touch along her pussy lips.
The fine layer of perspiration that covered her chest and belly felt less sticky and oppressive as it chilled with the light gust coming her way. Making her skin tingle. She would have turned the air conditioner on, but with all the humidity and rain of late, the built-up condensation had killed the motor. The part was on order, leaving Yvette without air conditioning for the weekend.
The association that maintained the building had informed her the temperature inside her condo was still within a range deemed “appropriate” according to their written bylaws. Therefore, her lack of cool air was not currently subject to their involvement in expediting the repair. She was this close to checking into a hotel, but couldn’t fully justify it when the air conditioning units in the condos surrounding hers helped to keep the building from burning up. In fact, the hallway was downright chilly from the central unit. A Godsend during this massive heat wave that had hit Manhattan following the unexpected rains.
She poured a glass of freezer-chilled vodka from the wet bar and downed a healthy gulp. The frigid liquid helped to cool her insides a bit. She set the glass on the tall end table next to the sofa, went out into the foyer and propped the door open. Just enough so she could leave the security chain in place. The brisk breeze from the hall was welcome, but it’d take awhile to bring the temperature in her condo down a couple degrees.
Perhaps a cold shower was a better alternative to the fan, but she suspected the respite would be fleeting. She’d need another one five minutes later, so what was the point?
Instead, she retrieved a spray bottle from under the kitchen sink, filled it with cold water and returned to the living room. She flipped on the CD player, already loaded with sexy jazz tunes, and then sank onto the plush sofa. She’d covered it with the satin sheet, knowing the lightweight, slippery material would be a hell of a lot cooler than the velvet.
Finally feeling the relief from her efforts, she reached for her cocktail and sipped it as she spritzed herself with water, the air from the fan turning the mist chilly. She leaned back against the rolled arm of the sofa and spread her long, blonde hair over it, letting the air and the spray of water cool her neck.
She’d just finished her first glass of vodka, certain her internal temperature was no longer in the triple-digit range, when the doorman rang her, announcing Finn Griffith’s unexpected visit. Perking Yvette up considerably.
“Send him up!” she said into the phone receiver she’d left on the coffee table.
Finn was a renowned artist who was also devilishly handsome. A bit broody, as most creative geniuses were, yet definitely a tall, dark and hunky fantasy come to life. She wondered what had brought him by this evening.
A thrill of anticipation shimmied down her spine at the possibilities that ran rampant through her mind.
Climbing off the sofa, she refreshed her beverage and poured one for Finn. Leaving the cocktails on the smoky glass-top of the wet bar, she strolled to the foyer, just as she heard the elevator ding. She unhooked the security chain and pulled the door open just enough to peek up and down the hallway to ensure her neighbors weren’t out and about. Seeing only Finn, she yanked the door open and filled the doorway with her nearly naked body as she propped a hip against the frame.
Finn drew up short, staring at her, a wicked grin on his perfectly sculpted face and lust flashing in his melted-chocolate brown eyes.
“Jesus,” he said. “You could give a grown man wet dreams.”
She smiled. “How sweet of you to say.”
“Do you always answer the door in your underwear and high heels?”
“When my air conditioner is on the fritz in the dead of summer…yes.”
Finn whistled under his breath. “You look gorgeous, as always.” He gave her a kis
s on both cheeks, then took her in from head to toe one more time, making her breath catch and her clit tingle. Finn had a way of devouring her with his eyes that made her want to strip down to nothing and let him feast on her.
“Looks like my timing is perfect,” he said. “I come bearing a gift you’re going to want.”
“Please,” she said in a teasing voice as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Dicks are a dime a dozen in this town. And it’s too hot to fuck anyway.”
He chuckled. “You may change your mind about that when you see what I brought for you.”
She’d noticed he pulled an enormous cooler-on-wheels behind him. Her attention shifted to it.
“They let you into the elevator with that monstrosity?”
“The appropriate question is, how the hell did it fit?”
She stepped out of the way, pulling the door fully open so Finn and his traveling ice chest could enter the condo.
“Whatever you’ve got in mind,” she said as she closed the door behind him and followed him into the living room, “must involve something that’s going to cool us off.”
Finn shot another sexy, wicked grin over his shoulder. “Or steam the place up.” He winked at her.
Yvette felt that familiar flash of heat and desire Finn sparked so easily. He was sexy in an edgy way that suggested he knew how to fuck a girl until she was fully sated. Yet could instantly have her begging for more, because she really couldn’t get enough of him. He had obsidian-colored hair that was always a bit tousled, like he ran his hands through it in contemplation while he worked. Or he’d just tumbled out of bed after a quick romp. His eyes were warm and inviting. His smile was wickedly delicious. And his body…. Tall, muscular and downright tempting!
They had yet to do the dirty deed, despite years of flirting. Both she and Finn were workaholics, with little time for romance and dating. Finn was consumed by his art, which included traditional paintings on canvas, as well as amazingly creative body art on nude models.
His human murals were on display once a month at Body Scenes, an exclusive nightclub and high-end art gallery that was strictly invitation-only. Yvette had taken her newly divorced friend, Annabelle, to one of Finn’s showings at the beginning of the summer. Finn had been minus a female model for one of his masterpieces and Annabelle had agreed to let Finn paint her. It’d been an erotic mural. Three men and one woman. Cocks filling Annabelle in an arousing way that had made Yvette a tad disappointed she hadn’t been in her friend’s place.
But Yvette had yet to acquiesce to Finn’s dozens of requests to let him paint her. She’d been waiting for that one special idea, that flash of inspiration that would capture her in a unique way. For Yvette, body paint wasn’t it.
Not that she didn’t find the pieces brilliant. She just wanted something different. Something that portrayed her true spirit, the essence of who she really was. Perhaps it was an intentional challenge she’d issued for Finn.
As she watched him now, moving with stealthy fluidity that screamed cocksure arrogance and bad-boy wickedness, anticipation of exciting things to come—hopefully her!—zinged through her. He dragged her coffee table farther away from the sofa and carefully placed his shoulder bag on it. Quickly removing two cameras, he outfitted both of them, then played around with the lighting in the room before using the digital single lens reflex camera to take several test shots.
Yvette’s curiosity mounted. What was he up to?
Finally, he grabbed her by the hand and directed her to the sofa, where she sat still while he took more test shots with the DSLR. When he stepped back and viewed the shots on the miniature screen on the camera, he nodded, then shook his head, then nodded again.
Yvette said, “If you tell me I look like a whale on film, I’m going to kick your sorry ass right out of my condo.”
He lifted his gaze and grinned. “Live solely off fast food for a year and then you might have a problem.” He eyed her body in a slow, appreciative way, his eyes lingering on her breasts, the tops of which spilled out of her demi bra. “Trust me, you’re a knockout, doll. The problem is the lighting. Not exactly optimal, but this photo shoot is just so you don’t have to pose for hours on end.”
“That’s good news. You know I have the attention span of a gnat. Plus, I’ve got three columns and six blogs due this week.” She’d carved out a nice little niche for herself both in print and on the Internet as an avant-garde art and food expert. Another reason she and Finn had likely never hooked up. She was too busy playing Queen of the Mountain, with an endless stream of competition trying to knock her off the top.
“Despite the lighting, this room will do nicely,” he commented as he eyed the sofa with the cream-colored sheet draped sloppily over it, creating ripples of satin amidst a sea of purple velvet. “Your setup is perfect.”
“Just trying to chill out,” she said. Dying to know what was in the ice chest, she added, “What, exactly, do you have in mind for this evening and what makes you think I’m going to go along with it?”
Finn set aside his camera. He plunged his hands in the front pockets of his black-as-night jeans and gave her a coy smile, his dark brows lifting suggestively. “Because you like being naughty.”
Her teeth clamped down on her lower lip as excitement shot through her again. Her nipples were already hard. They seemed to get harder. Tightening in an almost unbearable way. Drawing her attention to them, along with their need to be rolled between his fingers and thumbs. Suckled in his mouth. Flicked by his tongue. Scraped gently by his teeth.
A prickle of arousal danced along her clit as she lifted her gaze and asked, “You really think you know what I like?”
“Oh yeah.” He kept his hands in his pockets. Didn’t move an inch. Just eyed her with a sinfully hot look that made her pulse jump. “I was sitting at home the other day, trying to sketch out a new body art mural, but all I could think about was you. Sweaty and slick from this ridiculous heat wave we’re having. And then it hit me. The perfect thing to cool you down while heating up my canvases.”
She squirmed a little on the plump cushion, her arousal making her a bit uncomfortable. In a good way, of course. Anticipation mingled with a need that had been burning bright for years, since the first day she’d met Finn Griffith. Would it finally be sated tonight?
Yvette said, “If this involves putting my clothes back on, you can forget it.”
He laughed. “No, doll. I need you just like that.”
“Hmm. Fortuitous.”
“You said it. Now here’s what I’m thinking. Four scenes—I’ve already figured out the poses for each one. I know you used to model so this should be a breeze for you.”
“It’s been awhile, Finn,” she said, not exactly thrilled to admit she was thirty-one, not twenty-one. Even if she was only admitting it to herself.
He scoffed. “I’ve watched you in the club, Yvette. You’re a natural. You probably pose in your sleep.”
She couldn’t argue with that one. It was likely true. “So what’s in it for me? You get a model and more artwork to sell at Body Scenes. What do I get out of this?” She knew exactly what she wanted and wouldn’t settle for anything less. Not tonight.
She wanted Finn. Finally stripping down with her. Touching her naked body with his mouth and hands. Sliding his thick cock into her wet cunt, thrusting deep, fucking her hard.
It was all she could do to keep from begging for it.
She’d only been teasing when she’d claimed dicks were a dime a dozen in this town. In her opinion, there weren’t any attached to such a devilishly handsome man. And she no longer considered it too hot to fuck. She had no qualms about steaming up the windows with Finn! Had to fan herself with her hand, in fact, as her cheeks flushed at how badly she wanted it. Wanted him.
He said, “Given your current predicament, how about I put you up at the Ritz Carlton ’til your cooler is fixed? You can turn the air on so high, you’ll need to light a fire in the fireplace to take off the chill. Unlimit
ed champagne, strawberries and room service. Knock your socks off, babe.”
A tempting offer. But Yvette could afford all of that on her own. “Hardly incentive.”
Finn grinned. “I’ll be there with you.” His brows lifted again as he said, “With a box of condoms.”
“Oh,” she said on a lusty sigh. “That’s a horse of a different color.”
“Tired of us pussy-footing around,” he said, looking as uncomfortable as she felt. All because of the sizzling chemistry they shared, which they had yet to act upon. “I’ve become the poster child for blue balls because of you.”
She made a soft tsking sound. “Poor Finn. We can’t have that.”
Though, if there were such a phrase related to women being all twisted in knots over not getting it, she’d be his poster counterpart.
“Plus,” Finn continued the negotiations, “I donate a portion of the proceeds to the models’ favorite charities when the pieces sell. Ten percent.”
“I support the homeless shelters,” Yvette told him. “Twenty-five percent for the worthy cause.”
He laughed good-naturedly as he shook his head. “Highway robbery.”
“You won’t have the paintings without me.”
“Fifteen percent.”
“Twenty,” she countered. “And that’s as low as I go. Take it or leave it.”
His dark brown eyes glowed hypnotically as he said, “You drive a hard bargain. Sold.”
“Well, I suppose I don’t have anything better to do in this heat. So what do you want me to do?”
“Look sexy as hell.
“Oh is that all?”
He chuckled again. Then he bustled about, setting up his workspace and his equipment. When he was ready, he took Yvette by the hand and pulled her off the sofa, moving her out of his way. She went for her cocktail as he spread out a sheet of plastic on her hardwood floor, in front of the sofa. Then he pulled the satin down a ways, so it covered the small patch of plastic.