Three Dirty Secrets (Blindfold Club 4)

His voice was low. “It looks so fucking good on you.”

I inhaled sharply when he stalked toward me, and then I got my wish. The softly calloused skin of his palm was placed on my shoulder. His simple touch was . . . sexy. It warmed all of my nerve endings, and when his thumb brushed over the ink, those nerve endings burst into flames.

He stared at the tattoo while I peered at his silver eyes. The flecks of dark blue scattered among the icy gray were so . . . pretty. Not that I’d tell him that. With his hand on me, I was rapidly dissolving into the idiot version of myself.

His fingers traced my bra strap. “Keep this on.” Those fingers slipped along the bare line of my collarbone and his eyes followed the path. “I can’t wait to photograph these.”

“My tits?”

“Your freckles.”

Heat burned in my cheeks. Like most redheads, I had an abundance of freckles, and plenty of self-consciousness to go along with them. But of course Silas would like the abstract pattern of tan dots on my pale skin.

The space between us was suddenly gone. His hand continued the journey upward until it was buried in the hair at the nape of my neck and gently tugged so my head was tipped up to meet his intense gaze. His lips were so close to mine, I could feel his hurried breath rolling over my skin.

“I’m going to direct you, is that okay?”

I laughed softly. “Yes. You have my permission to tell me what to do.”

“Yeah?” He was back to staring at my mouth again. “Take off your pants and go kneel on the rug.”

But he didn’t release me. His expression was one of confusion, like he wanted me to follow his request and also stay exactly like I was.

“You gonna let me go?” I teased.

“I really fucking want to kiss you.”

A short laugh burst from me. “Okay, then. Do it.”

He shook his head. “It’s a bad idea. Last time I had a really hard time stopping. We need to get through the shoot first.”

“You’re putting it on pause.”

He gave me a lazy smile. “Yeah. Most definitely to be continued.” He let go, looking reluctant, and gave me space to do what he’d asked.

“Christ, the floor’s cold!” I said as I took off my heels and stepped my bare feet on the smooth concrete, which had to be a few degrees warmer than ice. Was it weird to be nervous about taking my pants off? He’d already seen my naughty bits, not all at once, but still. God, I was b

eing such a girl. A man would whip off his pants and be proud to show himself off, and I’d spent years trying to emulate male confidence at my job.

I shoved the pants down to my ankles and extracted one leg at a time, then confidently added them to my pile of discarded clothes.

Silas’s Adam’s apple bobbed as if swallowing hard. Did he like what he saw? The sheer panties hid nothing. I strolled toward the backdrop that was bathed in light, walking tall.

He’d told me to kneel, which wasn’t going to be easy for me. I watched women submit to men all the time, but I’d envied the men. The rush of power of controlling someone else’s pleasure or drawing it out . . .

I’d done extensive research on BDSM when I’d gotten the assignment. Some of it had made me anxious, and other parts I’d found intriguing. They’d turned me on. Left me wondering what it would be like to be the top in a scene, the one dictating how it went.

Joseph had figured me out within the first five minutes of our interview, but it’d taken me longer to accept it. I didn’t do submission. A large part of me wanted to explore the other side, but Matt had made it clear he wasn’t interested in that.

I took a deep breath and lowered to plant a knee in the soft rug. My focus went to the darkened figure behind the camera who was obscured by the bright lights. Silas seemed like he didn’t have a submissive bone in his body.

“Good,” he said, when I’d sat back on my heels. There was a soft pop of the lights and the loud shutter click.

“Good? I feel super awkward.”

“Put your hand on the rug beside you. Lean your weight on it.”

I did and giggled. I had to look ridiculous. Whenever I tried to look sexy, it usually resulted in me looking the least sexy.