“If you don’t mind, we’re going to need that to go.”
* * *
“YOU’RE ENJOYING THIS too much,” Flash said as Ian placed his hand on her left hip and shifted it to the right. He moved her chin two inches to the left and then back one inch again to the right. She and Ian were in his living room and he had her standing by the bare patch of wall by the large stone fireplace while he took pictures of her with her own cell phone to use in the creation of her next sculpture. After twenty pictures she’d declared they had more than enough to work with but Ian wasn’t quite finished posing her.
“You’re naked. I’m taking pictures of you. Can you please explain how the hell I’m supposed to enjoy it less?”
“This isn’t supposed to be sexual. It’s for art.”
“Of course it is. Art is what I named my cock.”
Flash reached behind her and cupped Ian between the legs.
“Hi, Art.”
“Art says hello,” Ian said. “He’s looking forward to spending more time with you.”
“What a nice guy. Let me see the last pics,” she said. Ian returned her phone to her and she flipped through the pictures while he peered over her shoulder.
“I like that one,” he said, pointing at one particular picture where Flash had her back to the camera and bore all her weight on one foot while she looked to the side.
“Venus de Milo pose,” she said. “Very classic.”
“Classics are classics for a reason.”
“We’re going to delete that one right there,” she said, pulling up one picture Ian had taken of nothing but her ass.
“Oh, no, that’s my favorite.”
“Fine, fine.” She texted him the picture and then deleted it. “Happy now?”
“Art and I are grateful. We done?” He sounded a little sad about that.
“I have plenty to work with here.”
“So do I.” Ian wrapped his arms around her from behind and cupped her breasts in his large hands.
“You’re fondling me again,” she said.
“I’m fond of fondling.”
“Did you want to do this at work?”
“Fondling you was the least of what I wanted to do to you every single day at work. But I behaved myself. It was horrible.”
“Behaving sucks,” she said.
“I suck,” he said, and started sucking on her earlobe. It tickled so much she laughed and Ian had to subdue her giggles with a sharp bite. “I like you hanging around my house completely naked. I might institute a dress code here.”
“An undressed code?”
“Excellent idea,” he said.
“You’re violating your own dress code, Mr. Asher. You have all your clothes on.”
“I’m barefoot.”
“Doesn’t count.”