Like I’m the only thing he wants.
I forget about the shoot. About the wedding. About everything but kissing back.
Mmm, he tastes good. Like chocolate and honey and Forest.
Click, click.
My palm digs into the cushion, pressing the button on the camera.
He pulls back reflexively.
At least, I think it’s reflexively.
His expression gets sheepish. “Got carried away.”
“That’s okay.” More than okay.
“You look so fucking sexy, Skye.”
“Thank you.” My body buzzes. Right now, I believe it. That he wants me. Only me. That the rest of this weekend means nothing. That it doesn’t matter.
Is that true?
God, I need it to be true.
“Am I messing up your lipstick?” He catches my lip with his thumb. Slides the digit into my mouth.
Mmm. I look up at him as I suck hard.
He looks down at me with that demanding stare. One that says I’ll fuck up your lipstick if I want. I’ll split you in half, princess.
Slowly, he pulls his thumb from my mouth.
“No.” I can barely speak. “It doesn’t rub off.” My gaze flits to his crotch. “We’ve already tried that.”
His smile gets wicked. “Princess, you keep looking at me like that and this shoot is going to get pornographic.”
I shake my head.
He raises a brow.
“I’m in charge.” I stand. “You’re my model. You do what I say.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I turn. Sit on his thighs.
“I’ll do what you say.”
“But…”
“He won’t—” He pulls me up his thighs until my ass is against his crotch. Against his hard cock.
Mmm. “I don’t have an issue.”
“That’s the tone you want?”
“Why do you think I’m sitting here.”
He chuckles. “And I’m the evil one?”
“Maybe we’re both evil.” I motion to the camera. “Smile.”
He turns to the lens. Wraps his arms around my waist. Click.
I shift around the bench. Snap photos in a dozen different positions.
Then we toast our cans of soda, get a dozen like that.
I switch to my combat boots. Repeat our poses. Then do a set of solo photos.
Forest watches with rapt attention as I slip on my robe, slip off my swimsuit, pull on another. The purple bikini.
He helps me tie the halter top. Traces the low neckline all the way to the v below my breasts.
His fingers linger on my skin. He looks down at me, asking for permission.
I nod.
He slips his hand into my swimsuit. Pulls my body into his. Toys with my nipple as he kisses me hard.
I slip my hand into the back pocket of his jeans. But it’s not enough. I need more.
I tug at his button. Cup him over his jeans.
He groans against my lips. Pulls back with a sigh. “Not yet.”
“Not yet?”
He nods. “Work first.”
“You’re pure evil.” I use his words.
He just smiles. “Well, yeah.” He adjusts my swimsuit so it’s covering me properly. “I learned from the best.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Skye
The purple swimsuit is pure torture. There’s nothing wrong with the design. It’s stretchy, cute, comfortable.
But Forest keeps looking at me like he’s about to devour me.
Even as he follows my instructions to hold reflectors or move chairs or do away with my sunglasses.
This isn’t a lingerie shoot. It’s not supposed to be sexy.
I mean, it’s not supposed to be unsexy. But I can’t post a bunch of topless images where I’m pawing at my boyfriend’s jeans.
I certainly can’t post images of his hands on my chest. Or my hands on his thighs. Or my lips around his—
My entire body blushes.
The pool is cold. I should be shivering. But I’m not. I’m on fire.
I close my eyes. Take a deep breath. Think of unsexy things. My parents flirting at dinner (so gross). Their hey, maybe head to Forest’s place, or at least use headphones wink. Them climbing the stairs, turning up their Prince music, and well…
Too many details.
So gross.
So, so gross.
Okay, that’s better. Ish.
“You okay?” Forest asks. He’s standing at the side of the pool, all tall and beautiful in his jeans and white t-shirt, his hands around a gold reflector.
Fuck, it’s hard shooting blind. I need to expand beyond self-portraits. Or find a photographer for my self-portraits. Though I guess they’d just be portraits then.
My chest tightens at the thought of giving up my role behind the camera. Yeah, I love rocking fashionable attire. I love finding confidence in my body. I even like the attention, mostly.
But framing a photo, getting the lighting and the cropping just right—
That’s bliss.
“Trying to cool down.” I can’t help but smile. “Someone keeps—”
“Revving your engine?”
“You sound like Holden.”
His nose scrunches in distaste. “I usually think about the Lakers.”
“You love the Lakers.”
“They’re terrible now.”
“Still. They inspire passion. When you and Chase watch games… well, it’s pretty quiet, because it’s you and Chase, but—”
“I should think about our rivals?”
“Yeah, the, uh…” I try to remember which team in the uh… league? Division? Region? “Sports team.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, the sports team.”
“Fuck those guys.”
“They are the worst.” He laughs so hard his sunglasses slide down his nose. He drops one hand to fix them. Returns it to the massive gold reflector.