As the final minutes counted down, I couldn’t decide which one I wanted it to be.
No matter how civil we’d been on the phone, I knew we couldn’t keep it up. Neither of us were calm enough to put up with shit, and one of us was bound to say something that set the other off. Even if it was offhand, it could easily get out of control.
No matter how sexy he was with that rough, stern demeanor, I wasn’t going to change myself for anyone. Elijah was bad enough…Eli wasn’t going back in the closet. Houston had said that Roman was probably just gun-shy after his last relationship had exploded. But I wasn’t confident enough in my ability to read Roman to be able to guess if that was it.
I knew on a rational level that his frustrations with his ex affected how he saw me and probably how he’d see future relationships, but I wasn’t sure how deep that went. I couldn't imagine having to behave all the time and watch what I said, always worrying about what he’d think or if I’d cross the line.
I wanted to cross the line.
I wanted to know that at some point he’d pull me across his lap and spank me again. I wanted him to get so frustrated, he’d shove me up against the wall and pound his cock into me because it was the only way he could think of to shut me up.
But not if he would end up hating me for it.
I had enough serious shit in my life; I needed the escape. Between school, work, the volunteer stuff that was important to me, and the insanity I had to put up with when it came to my family, Eli was my escape…my release valve.
Eli got to drive everyone crazy and prance around half-naked, knowing people were going to be drooling over the photos. Everyone needed a place in their life they could let their inner brat out, most people just didn’t have that safe space…I did.
And I wasn’t going to let him ruin it.
As I made one last lap around the living room and the kitchen, the doorbell finally rang. Forcing myself to walk at a reasonable pace, I was at the door in seconds, but it felt like a lifetime. I just wanted it over with. I didn’t have enough patience to draw things out like we were doing.
Roman was looking up at the house as I opened the door. He glanced back at me with an odd expression on his face. “Hi. Nice house.”
“Thanks.” I shrugged. “Come on in.”
Stepping back, I waved him in. “I set some stuff on the guest room bed for you to look at. I wasn’t sure what kinds of kinks and themes you were going to want to shoot.”
Focusing on the work let me push the fears and confusion to the back of my head, but it was unsettling and I didn’t like it. Roman either didn’t want to talk about all the shit that had gone on or wasn’t sure how to bring it up, because he simply nodded and walked in quietly.
When he finally spoke, it was in an even tone like a lawyer would use. “Thank you. I’d ideally like a variety of looks and fetishes so I can give people different styles to look at. You’re very expressive on camera, so I’m sure we can come up with different things.”
Okay, so a dirty lawyer.
“That makes sense, and thank you. I tried to pick out a few things, so let me know what works for you.” Heading back through the house, I led Roman to the rarely used guest room. Most of the time when I went out with friends, we ended up back at someone else’s place, so I hadn’t gotten that many overnight visitors.
Gesturing to the nearly blank room, I looked at Roman. “It’s fairly bland, but that probably works better than having it decorated all strangely.”
He gave a small smile. “Bland is better than a lot of decorating that I’ve seen. My grandma’s guest room had wallpaper with these big red cabbage roses on it. She was insanely proud of it, but it was so ugly you just couldn’t look at it.”
Grinning, I nodded. “I think everyone in that generation had questionable taste in wallpaper.”
Roman’s smile widened, and he tilted his head toward the bed. “Is that the stuff?”
“Yes.” Waving my hand at the pile, I tried not to be nervous, but it wasn’t working. “Check it out and let me know if there’s anything you’d like me to look for.”
I’d had guys over, so I knew it wasn’t someone invading my space that was making me nervous. I’d even been mostly naked in front of Roman countless times…when we were almost functional and then when we were screaming, so it couldn’t be the photos that were making me uncomfortable. But I wasn’t sure what it was.
Something about it just felt more personal.
As he looked at the collars and items that I’d gathered, I realized it was because he was seeing more of me. I’d known that the photos would revolve around me looking like a submissive for the camera, and that didn’t bother me. But that was my collar on the bed. Those were the clothes I’d picked out. They were my toys.
Nothing crazy or that screamed fuck me, but it was intimate in a way I hadn’t expected.
As I watched his fingers trail over the leather of the collar and soft lining of the cuffs, I couldn’t keep the worries at bay. What would he say? Would he realize how different it was, or would it just be the same to him?
He finally glanced up and nodded. “You’re going to look amazing in these.”
It wasn’t enough, but I wasn’t sure how to ask for more.
“What do you want to do first?” I had to fight the urge to look away. “I’ve got a few more traditionally masculine pieces if you’re picturing going that route for some of the photos. I know I grabbed the more feminine things, but—”
“No, these are about showing the different styles of photos, sure, but it’s also about making sure you come through in them.” Roman was quiet for a moment. “I want to make sure I capture the piece of you that’s unique. It’s not just photographing someone in lingerie. It’s about showing their passion…for the lifestyle…for a person…for a fetish…Whatever that passion turns out to be.”
“And with me…” I was insane, but I pushed ahead anyway. “What would you say my passion is? What should show up in my photographs?”
He was too quiet.
His gaze never wavered, but it took too long for him to answer.
He hated me.
What the fuck was I doing to myself? I wasn’t one of those guys who chased assholes who despised them. I didn’t push myself at straight guys. I didn’t go after guys who were just bad news. Sure, I’d flirt with anyone, but that was as far as it went. I wanted a good time, but I wasn’t going to destroy myself to get it.
Except, that’s what I was doing.
I was a moron.
Roman finally spoke, and my heart started pounding. His quiet voice held just a hint of the Dom who’d taken my pictures that night. “Your passion is in the submission, but it’s the submission that comes after you’ve pushed at the boundaries to test their strength and have completely given yourself over to it. It’s in being watched and wanted, but knowing that they can’t have you because you’ve given that part of yourself to someone else.”
I didn’t even know what to say.
What the fuck was going on?
Roman’s lips quirked in the barest hint of a smile, but his eyes were flooded with pleasure and something else that was eluding me. He glanced away long enough to grab a pair of panties off the bed and then moved his focus back to me. “Do you have a white dress shirt you could wear over these?”
Since it was an easy question that didn’t make my brain work, the answer came quickly. “Sure.”
I could see what he wanted in my head. “I have some heels. Is that the look you’re going for?”
Roman nodded. “Yes. That would be good.”
“Okay, I’ll…um…I’ll be right back.” Escaping for a moment, grabbing the clothes didn’t take nearly long enough.
The combination of the masculine and feminine would look interesting in the photos. And it showed that he’d clearly considered how to photograph me. Had I been on his mind, or was it just something that had come to him quickly?
Roman could be like that; one minute
he’d have a model positioned a certain way, and in the next second, he’d have everything changed around to make it completely different. It was like things would just come to him.
Walking back into the room, I saw Roman staring at the items on the bed, lost in thought. “Will these work?”
Holding up the white men’s dress shirt and bright red heels that almost matched the panties perfectly, I waited for him to look up. As his gaze moved to the clothing, he nodded and glanced down at the scrap of fabric that his fingers had been absently caressing.
“Yes, they’re perfect. Would you put them on? I think I’d like you over by the window first, if that’s okay. I don’t think anyone can see in, and the light’s perfect.” He gestured toward the window with his free hand. “If you’re not comfortable, though, the dark gray of that one wall should work too.”
“No, that’s fine.” The window looked out into the back yard, but because of the placement of the houses, it was private. Walking close enough to take the panties Roman held out, I turned toward the bathroom. “I’ll change into these and be right back.”
Walking into the bathroom to get ready felt weird, but staying in there would have been impossible. I’d never felt ashamed of what I did or who I was, but something about taking off my clothes in front of Roman felt…wrong.
Not in a bad way.
I knew I was safe with him, but mentally, everything in me was screaming that I needed to go in the opposite direction. Changing into the panties and shirt didn’t take long, and soon I was dressed and sliding on the sexy heels.
I didn’t wear a lot of dresses and things like that, but something about women’s shoes and intimate things were so much sexier than men’s. I loved a hot man in a jock as much as the next guy, but for myself, I’d always felt more desirable in feminine things.
Looking in the mirror, refusing to admit I was dawdling, I ran my fingers through my hair to give it a mussed, just-fucked look. The contrasts between the colors and the mix of masculine and feminine looked beautiful.
But I felt slightly naked.
Which was stupid, because I’d been way more naked in front of him before. But I couldn’t help it. Taking a deep breath and refusing to hide who I was in my own home, I stepped away from the sink and turned toward the door.
The heels made my legs look longer, and they gave me a boost of artificial confidence that I usually didn’t need, but I was going to take every little bit of help I could. As I stepped out of the bathroom, carefully closing the door behind me, I tried to keep up that veneer of poise.
I was a damned good model, and I looked great. Nothing he said would change that.
“Perfect.”
His voice was smooth, but it still wasn’t enough words for me to figure out what he was talking about. Me or the clothes? If it wasn’t for the little flash of emotion in his eyes, I would have said the clothes, but there was always just enough to leave me wondering.
“Good.” Trying to keep calm, I pointed to the far wall. “You said over by the window?”
Roman gave a short nod, then spoke quietly as he focused his gaze on the camera in his hand. “Yes, thank you.”
Not sure if he was just distracted or if I was being dismissed, I made my way over to the window. I wished I could have said I strode, or that I slinked across the room sexily…but I was too nervous for anything remotely fabulous.
He was even ruining heels for me.
The ass.
Being able to bitch, at least in my head, made me feel a little bit better. But not enough. I was still feeling too guilty over getting him fired and everything else that had happened. Sure, we’d both played a part, but I didn’t like knowing I’d been at fault even in some small way.
Standing by the window, I tried to imagine how the photo would look and what would work best, but it didn’t feel like Eli standing in the room, I felt like Elijah. A fraud who was faking everything and trying to desperately hide who he really was. I felt awkward and nothing about it was right.
“Let’s try one hand on the wall and then turning just the top half of your body toward me.” Roman’s words were the nicest, most bland things I’d ever heard from him in a shoot.
It didn’t help any.
Nothing helped. I shifted, and he’d give more instructions, he’d nod, but then would tweak something else. It was professional and calm, but also boring, and there was none of the passion I usually felt in front of the camera. I wasn’t even hard. It was like my dick was completely broken.
He liked wearing panties.
He liked being watched.
He liked having the camera on us.
Well, he was now on strike and refusing to cooperate until I made better decisions. Out of all the stupid things I’d done, the fact that he drew the line at my being polite with Roman was insane.
“This isn’t working, Eli. Come here.” Roman sighed, and I turned back toward him to see him sitting on the bed.
He was slumped over and looked nothing like the confident man who’d stared down his nose at me the first day we’d met. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I moved away from the window and took two steps to the bed. “Did you want to try a different location? The—”
Roman interrupted, shaking his head. “It’s not that.” Taking a deep breath, he reached a hand out. “I know I don’t deserve this, but come kneel down here so we can talk.”
It should have felt wrong, but I was mostly numb as I took one final step and let my legs fold neatly so I was looking up at him, the white shirt covering most of my thighs. Not even attempting to guess what he was thinking, I just waited.
It wasn’t quite submission, but it was the closest I’d come to it since that night.
Roman reached a hand out and cupped my cheek. “I’m sorry.”
For what?
But I stayed silent while he looked down at me. His thumb started tenderly caressing my cheek, and I forced myself not to move…not until I knew what the fuck he was doing.
“I know you said doing the shoot was alright. But you’re clearly uncomfortable, and I know that’s my fault. Before, you would have come through that door, confident and turned on. If I made you feel that being passionate about any of this was wrong, I’m sorry.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. Finally, I forced the uncertain words out. “I don’t know what’s going on and it’s…unsettling.”
“That’s the understatement of the year. You got dressed in the bathroom.” Roman said it like it was something sad and terrible. “You’d strip down in front of almost anyone just to show them how sexy you are in those panties, Brat. But I made you so uncomfortable, just by being here, that you left the room.”
Brat.
After everything we’d screamed at each other, it should’ve stung, but the look on his face made it clear there was no malice in the word. But I still had no idea what was going on, so that’s what I said. “I don’t know what you want.”
“Your forgiveness, to start.” It was simple, but it hit me hard.
Nodding, I refused to look away. “As long as you’ll accept my apology. I should have asked more questions and looked you up online like Preston kept insisting. I just saw the photos and didn’t care about the rest. When you showed up, you were angry, and I had no idea why.”
Roman gave me a rueful look. “You were everything I told myself I shouldn’t want, but did. I was so angry that after everything had gone so badly with my ex I’d somehow landed right in front of you. A smart-ass brat who was clearly begging for a spanking and didn’t bother to hide who he was or what he wanted. You were everything I was fighting not to want, and I hated myself for it.”
“And I didn’t help the situation.” I’d just kept pushing and fighting. “In my defense, Preston really should have pointed it out. I just thought you were a judgmental dick.”
Roman laughed. “Brat. But yeah, I probably was.” Then his smile faded, and he turned serious. “Do you want me to go? I know that—”
Cutting off his words, I shook my head. “No, but I think the bigger question is…Do you want to stay? I’m not going to hide who I am here or feel guilty about what I like. I’m not going to change for anyone else. I already have more of that in my life than I want.”
Could he live with that?
“You shouldn’t have to. You’re beautiful and feisty and look incredible when you let your submission wrap around you. I’ve never met anyone like you.” Roman let his thumb flick across my lower lip, slow and tender, like he was testing the waters.
My tongue flicked out and licked at the smooth skin, and my cock finally started to take an interest in what was happening. Roman’s gaze heated and his smile was back, but it was wicked and there was the barest hint of the Dom who’d sent me flying in them.
“Will you let me take your picture?” It was simple, but I could hear the layers of meaning in the words.
We still had so much shit to talk about and work through. There were so many things we hadn’t addressed, and I wasn’t even sure what he was looking for. I could do the occasional hookup and have it mean nothing, but that was with a stranger, someone meaningless and casual.
Roman was anything but meaningless, and I wasn’t sure I could walk away again without leaving a piece of me with him. “Just the photos, or do you want more? I need to know before we start.”
He watched me for a long time, and I could see emotions and thoughts flashing across his eyes. Finally, his other hand came up and started running through my hair. “More. I don’t know what that looks like or if we can make any of it work, but yes, I want more.”
A weight lifted off my shoulders, and I didn’t fight the goofy smile I knew was plastered on my face. I might regret it later, and I had no idea if I was making the right decision or not, but I stretched closer to him and let my lips press to his.
It was short and tender, and I hoped it said better than words what was going through my head. When Roman pulled away, I grinned, finally feeling like myself again. “Will you take my picture, Master?”
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