A Model Hero (8 page)

***

Gretchen glided her hands over Kyle’s chest again, unable to stop touching him. The line of pale, distorted flesh splitting him down the center did nothing to take away from his overwhelming sexiness. In fact, in the midst of his utter physical perfection, the scar served to remind her he was a real person with feelings, and his body issues were more than a figment of obsessing in front of the mirror, not unlike her own insecurities.

Despite her assertions, she hadn’t convinced Kyle every inch of him was beautiful. He still clutched his shirt as if prepared to cover himself the moment she came to her senses. She peeled it out of his fist and tossed it next to his jacket on the sofa.

“Let me show you how much I like your body exactly the way it is.” She tugged his hand, leading him to her bedroom, and flipped on the light. They stood inside the door as they had a couple weeks ago, only this time she pressed his back against the wall.

She brushed her lips along each of his shoulders, while running her hands up and down his chest, kneading her fingers into the sinewy muscles beneath his golden skin. Then she kissed her way over his chin, down the scratchy underside of his jaw, over his Adam’s apple, and into the hollow of his throat.

Beneath her, he tensed. His pulse fluttered, she hoped due to arousal and not because her touch made him nervous. Even if she hadn’t laid his misgivings to rest, she planned to transform his tension into desire.

Gretchen continued her journey, using her tongue in addition to her lips as she traversed the center of his chest, along the uneven lines and crevices of scar tissue to the bottom of the sternum bone and onto the hard, flat plane of his stomach.

She knelt in front of him, nibbling on his navel. Peeling back his low-rise jeans, she kissed the dark hair revealed with the release of each button. His full erection throbbed through the denim. Yes, arousal. Desire. She lowered the pants and followed them with his cotton briefs until he stood completely naked.

His cock danced full and proud in front of her face. She pressed her lips to the tip then sucked him in.

His hands fisted in her hair. She swirled her tongue around him and licked her way down his shaft.

“Gretchen.” If his physical form had left any uncertainty, the way he said her name would have assured her of how much he wanted her. As much as she longed to suck him until he came in her mouth, she wanted to make love with no clothing between them even more.

She licked back up his length to the head and drew him inside her mouth. He moaned, and she repeated the motion, his sounds of pleasure driving her to suck with more fervor.

On the edge of losing control, she released him. Kissing her way up his chest to his lips, she stood again. “Take off my clothes. I want your chest touching mine when we make love. I want our hearts to beat as one while you come inside me.”

His breath hitched, and his chest heaved as he unbuttoned her blouse. She kicked off her lower garments while he peeled away her shirt and bra. Discomfort flickered through her. Her soft, protruding body contrasted with his sleek hardness.

She lifted her gaze. The moment she met the desire and appreciation gleaming from his gray-green eyes, her insecurities evaporated.

Kyle carried her, rubbing his naked flesh with hers as he crossed the room to the bed. Laying her across the mattress, he knelt between her legs. He slid his hands from her shoulders to her thighs, the same path she’d taken while they were standing.

She shuddered beneath his touch and reached for a condom from the nightstand. She’d meant to take control but had become lost in her desire. “I’m ready for you now.”

“Already?” He pressed a finger inside her.

She moaned and twisted, showing him her heat and wetness.

He slipped his finger out and caressed the tops of her thighs, his thumbs entreating against the sensitive juncture, while he kissed his way down the center of her chest just as she had done to him.

“I’ll go mad if you don’t come inside me now.” She gasped, drowning in the combined sweetness and eroticism of his touch.

He fitted the condom on and leaned over her, the tip of his erection positioned at her entrance. His chest brushed hers. “Take me in then. My body’s all yours.”

She lifted her hips, wrapping herself around him and thrusting upward. “Say it again, the part about your body.”

“It’s all yours. I’m all yours.” He grasped her ass and angled her higher, driving deep.

She pressed her hands to his back to erase the space between them. “I want your chest so close we’re one,” she reminded him.

“Yes.” He urged her legs flat on the mattress and pushed his own legs straight between hers, his chest flush with hers. Framing her cheeks with his hands, he stilled. They both lay unmoving, except for the beat of his heart answered by the rhythm from her own chest wall. Lower, the pulse of his need drummed in time with hers.

She met his gaze and couldn’t deny it anymore. The unthinkable had happened. She’d fallen in love. But his life was taking off again, and she would weigh him down by attempting to be a part of it. She had to let him go. The scar over his heart wouldn’t get in the way of the career he deserved and wouldn’t stop other women from fighting for the chance to be with him. Perfect or not, he remained the same sought-after man.

But she was no longer the same. She’d fallen in love with a man whose image could only be tarnished by being seen with her.

***

Kyle lay still until his muscles trembled with the force of keeping them confined. Then he thrust with an urgency that welled from his core. His need overwhelmed him. He couldn’t see and couldn’t think. He only felt and wanted. Gretchen. As she convulsed around him, he dissolved into a great, shuddering climax, coming and coming until he was spent. She shuddered and clung to him, and he came again.

The sex was so amazing he didn’t care if he ever moved again, but he roused himself to lift his chest so he didn’t crush her.

She smiled up at him as if he’d handed her the greatest gift, instead of the other way around. “We better shower before we go back.”

“Forget the photo shoot. Let’s stay in bed for the rest of the day.” Hell, maybe the rest of the year. He could get her a good deal on a weekly grocery delivery.

“Go back,” she repeated, her smile still intact. “However, we definitely need to shower first. Together.”

Wanting her so soon should have been a physical impossibility, but dang if he didn’t sport impressive proof of the impossible. Gretchen was incredible. With her by his side, the perfect life he’d stopped believing in became a reality.

***

Kyle’s plans for the shower stretched longer than the hot water. Much to his disappointment, they dressed and headed to the studio. They were so late he wouldn’t have been surprised if everyone had given up on them and gone home. In fact, he considered the chance a best-case scenario. However, the morning crowd lingered, watching two young men pose under Melodie’s instruction.

She lowered the camera and waved him over, putting him in the spotlight again. He grasped for Gretchen’s hand, but she shifted out of reach as Zola rushed forward. “Kyle, meet Henry and Hector. I’ve just signed them as my newest clients. They’re gaga over the idea of you mentoring them.”

“Kyle Ramsey, what an honor.” A bare-chested guy tossed down a surfboard he’d been posing with and jogged toward him.

“You’re a modeling legend,” the other man gushed, tripping over the surfboard in his path.

“With the ladies, at least.” The men nudged each other and laughed.

“What’s your secret?”

They both looked so similar, and the introductions had happened so fast Kyle wasn’t certain who was who. He muttered something he hoped sounded like a polite greeting rather than a brush-off. He didn’t want to be a legend with the ladies. He wanted Gretchen.

After a moment of inexplicable panic, he found her deep in conversation with the photographer and strode to join them.

“Kyle’s happy to take his shirt off, but he has a scar running down the middle of his chest. I know you have airbrush techniques to get rid of it, but he doesn’t want to fake its existence. At the same time, he’s not ready to make it a spectacle either.” She turned and winked at him.

At first, her blasé conversation over what he’d kept a closely guarded secret for the past year caught him off guard, but her nonchalance stopped everyone else from freaking out. His defect and how he incorporated it into his career were nothing more than obstacles to be worked around. His previous absolute physical perfection had been important to him alone.

Melodie considered him. “Let’s try some back shots looking over your shoulder.”

“How about a shirtless thinking man’s pose?” Gretchen suggested, gesturing how holding his arm straight up and down over his chest would cover the scar.

“Absolutely. We have a lot of possibilities we can work with. I love a professional challenge.” Melodie rubbed her hands together. “All right, Kyle, let’s get your chest oiled up so we can make this photo shoot a wrap. I already had to reschedule my afternoon appointment. I’m not breaking my date with my fiancé tonight.”

Kyle gulped and sought out Gretchen’s gaze as he pulled his T-shirt over his head, this time with an audience. The pity and the shock absent from her eyes was displayed by several others. But he also found the frank lust and open appreciation he’d come to expect from modeling and had thought he’d never see again.

Melodie studied him the same way anyone in her profession did when they discovered the subject had a pimple or had gained five pounds since the last photo shoot.

Zola squinted at his scar. “We’ll lose jobs over this,” she said bluntly. “All those underwear and swimsuit campaigns. Not everyone is going to want to the extra work of airbrushing it out. A pity.” She shook her head, as if he’d taken a knife to his chest on an ill-advised whim.

“Swimsuits and underwear are not everything,” Gretchen pointed out. “His beautiful face hasn’t changed, and companies need models for turtlenecks, sweaters, and winter coats.”

“I can put out feelers for male beauty products. We’re too late for the winter catalogs, though. Everyone’s focused on spring and summer campaigns now.”

“Raincoats, jackets, T-shirts,” Kyle ticked off the seasonal suggestions. “Or the nonrenewal clause works both ways. You can release me as a client, and I’ll figure out something on my own. After all, you do have other clients now.”

Relief rushed through him, and his shoulders relaxed for the first time in a year. He could model again, or he could walk away. It was his choice. The scar on his chest would always be a part of him, but he didn’t have to let it dictate the direction of his life.

“Oh, no, I’ll never drop you,” Zola assured him. “I can find you plenty of good jobs to make us a lot of money and notoriety. We’ve both taken a hit with our professional reputations in the past year, though. I can’t promise I’ll be able to make you one of the most sought-after models in the world again.”

“I can live with that. In fact, I think I’ll enjoy it more.” His looks would always be scrutinized and obsessed over because of his profession, but he no longer felt the weight of needing to achieve physical perfection or to imprison himself at home because of the perceived limitations of his scar. He turned to Gretchen. “I have you to thank.”

“No need to thank me. I’d do it all over even if I knew you’d never model again.” She smiled, and he thought the expression was bittersweet.

Two women cornered him with a tub of coconut oil. At the same time, a man rubbed some styling gel in his hair. He let them do their jobs, returning to the familiar routine of modeling, while Gretchen strolled away. Under the bright studio lights and following a constant stream of stage directions, he lost sight of her. By the time the shoot wrapped, she’d vanished.

Gretchen threw herself into her business and clients, which was easy enough to do. With the days she’d taken off for the trip to Texas and the extra time she’d spent over the past months on her mother’s agency, her company needed round-the-clock attention.

After a week of constant work, her clients were once again feeling the love. Unfortunately, another love had driven her to work until she was too exhausted to think. She’d fallen in love with Kyle, given him her body, poured her heart into helping him make peace with his demons, and he gave her…his thanks.

He might as well have stabbed her.

On a logical level, she recognized the irrationality of her anger. She’d enticed him back to the modeling world, reminding him of the perks of the job. Her presence had never been a key selling point.

He’d given her everything she’d wanted from when she’d sought him out at the beginning of the month. He’d returned to modeling, providing her mother with a lucrative cut from his new jobs and a public-relations boost and attracting new talent and high-profile customers alike to the agency.

Mother had recommenced her professional, high-powered career. She’d found her own apartment and would be moving in tomorrow, October first. She’d given Gretchen two pairs of black pants and three shapewear undergarments “guaranteed” to make twenty pounds melt away as a parting gift. Gretchen should have been breaking into song from the sheer joy of reclaiming her home and her life. Instead she fought back tears.

“Ms. Meyers.” Her secretary’s voice through the intercom interrupted her troubled thoughts. “Mr. Ramsey is here to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment.” She lowered her voice. “But since I was able to get a rush on that shade installation for you, meeting with him might be worth your time.”

Oh yes, staring at Kyle was worth every unproductive minute. But he wasn’t a piece of eye candy she could simply ogle to her heart’s content. “I don’t think—”

Her office door opened, cutting off her feeble excuse. He stood before her, his perfect cheekbones, smooth skin, broad shoulders, and toned body all within reach, yet never to be hers. She didn’t regret a moment in his company. She only wished she’d had more time.