Danny (Models On Top #1) (22 page)

I lean down and kiss her stomach while kneading her breasts. Lifting, I move up her body and kiss her breasts, appreciating each one with my tongue. Her fingers weave into my hair and she tightens, the hair tugging on my scalp, and urging me on. I look up and she says, “Up here.”

“As you command.” I make sure to slide my body against her as I move up until I’m positioned above her. “God, you’re beautiful.”

Her eyes close, the compliment seeming too much as I grind between her legs. My erection is slick and I’m so close to thrusting into her that I struggle to stop, but I do. Lowering, I kiss her quickly and roll to the side to put a condom on before returning to the same position. This time I press against where I really want to be. She takes my face between her hands, and says, “I’ve missed you.”

That does me in completely. This is how I want those three words uttered, her gorgeous eyes on me, looking into mine. I close my eyes and push all the way in. I stop, my breath caught somewhere in my heart.

Seconds tick, as we lie bonded together once again. Her hands are on my face, cradled in her warmth. When I open my eyes, she reminds me to, “Breathe.” She always took my breath away and with the reminder I push in, her breath pushed out in the sexiest fucking chant that was ever uttered, “Danny. Danny. Danny.”

I kiss her because I can’t resist her dark pink lips, and when her mouth opens, the gesture makes me crave more. So I pull out and push in. “This. Feels so good.”

“So good.”

Resting on my forearms, I kiss her again, and again. I kiss her until my kisses are the only ones she’ll remember. We make love and when she pushes against me, I roll onto my back and let her take charge. With her hands pressed against my chest, her body rocking on top of me, and her hair loose, I try to memorize everything—every feeling, every sensation and breath that escapes her. “I’ve missed you, Reese,” I say, touching her body freely, something I’ve wanted to do since we reunited.

Her nails start to dig in, her head falling back, but her fingers lift suddenly and she grabs my wrists for something to hold on to as she falls into bliss. Her body hugging mine, heat flooding around me, and the sound of her falling apart drags my own orgasm out of me. I grab her hips, keeping her in place as we ride them out.

She lies down next to me, facing me, staring into my eyes as I do the same to her. It hits me. These are the eyes I should have been staring into for the last ten years. Although I’m sure she’s just tired, when she looks down, my heart begins to ache. “Reese.”

She looks back up and I see passion and desire, but I also see warmth and comfort. I see the home I should have had. I look away briefly, her loving gaze making me want to tell her all the things I’m feeling. I get up and dispose of the condom.

She speaks just as I come out of the bathroom, “We can’t tell anyone.”

“For now.”

“Maybe forever.” She rolls to her back and stares at the ceiling and I don’t like the loss. “This was a one-time thing. It would cause a lot of problems and I would lose my job.”

I climb in bed and face her again. “Look at me.”

She glances.

“No, Reese.
Look.
At me.”

When she rolls back to face me, she does as I asked.

“We can pretend this never happened. We can pretend we’re strangers with no past. We can pretend we don’t mean anything to each other to the rest of the world. But when we’re alone, I’m not going to pretend I don’t care about you. I can’t pretend I don’t have feelings for you, or have real feelings based on a history that was never resolved. I won’t.” I
can’t.

Her eyes fall closed and she moves closer, then rolls over so I can hold her. I do. I always will. I pull her snug against me and close my eyes too, liking the time we do have, and not wanting to worry about what we don’t.

She whispers, “Okay. I won’t.”

I smile but it’s hidden in the back of her hair. We have tonight, and for now, that’s enough. I’m content to find a lustful escape into a peaceful slumber as a warm, pliable body molds to mine and the hour closes in on one a.m.

THE PHOTOGRAPHER GOES
to the large umbrella to change out his lens. The crew arrived late the night before. The photographer, Bryker, flew in with the team hired out of LA, including Becs handling wardrobe, a makeup artist, and an assistant.

Claudia is escorted back to the makeshift makeup and wardrobe setup on the side of the building that’s shadowed around the corner. I go to stand under another large umbrella where Vinnie is seated in a director’s chair.

Without looking at me, he says, “The photos are amazing. How are you feeling?”

“They feel right, a good vibe, sexy, all that you said you wanted.”

Reese comes from around the corner, pulling a wheeled cooler behind her.

“I saw how much chemistry you two have together.” I’m thinking he’s not talking about the photo shoot anymore. “When you were dancing, fireworks.”

Bingo
. “The explosive kind,” I reply. “Every time I remind her how good we were, she reminds me why we weren’t.”

“Then keep trying.”

“You’re a hopeless romantic, Vinnie. It’s not gonna happen. She’s too determined to play by the rules while I’m willing to break them.”

“Again, I shouldn’t tell you this, but it’s something I’ve witnessed, not something she’s told me, so I feel I can share it.” He leans closer and whispers, “When I see her with her ex, she doesn’t react to him like she does you. I struggle to see the attraction that ever existed between them.”

“How have you seen them together if they’re broken up?”

“He’s her boss. We’ve had dinner together and he was there for her pitch meetings.”

I glance over at her kind of surprised she would date her boss. “Huh? Interesting.”

“That’s just it. They aren’t interesting at all. There’s nothing—no spark, no fire,
no fireworks
between them. Not like with you.”

“We’ve got the convenience of ten years dulling the edges of our break up.”

“Why
did
you break up, Danny?”

“Good question. When you find out, let me know.” I walk away to get a bottle of water before we continue with the next set because the desert is damn hot. This might be the first time I’ve been thankful for modeling swimsuits and underwear. Standing next to the cooler, I down half the bottle in one go. “Thanks for bringing these.”

Reese grabs a bottle for herself. “It’s hot.”

“Thanks. That’s why we’re paid the big bucks.”

She laughs. “I meant the weather, but it applies for the photo shoot too.”

Chuckling, I add, “My bad.”

“No. You guys are anything but bad. You look great together in your model perfection.”

When she sits on top of the cooler, I move around to block the sun for her. “You underestimate the power of connection. It runs deeper than skin surface.”

“You two have it all. The connection, the chemistry, the look—it’s all working today. These photos will be amazing.”

Kneeling down in front of her, her gaze follows me. “You say that, but you’ve not modeled.”

She snorts in amusement, and I have to say, I find that noise pretty damn adorable. Nodding toward the chair that was just moved off set to the side, I say, “C’mere. Come with me.”

I like that she doesn’t question what I’m up to or why, she just follows. She trusts me. Smiling, I sit in the chair and pat my right leg. “Sit down.”

“What?” She looks over her shoulder to see if anyone’s watching us. No one is.

When she turns back, I say, “I want you to straddle me, Reese.”

“I can’t do that,” she says incredulously. “How would that look?”

“Are you asking how I feel? Or how it will look to others? Because honestly, I don’t give a fuck how it looks to others, and I can’t imagine a better view than you on top of me again.”

A sly smile begins, the right, then the left of her lips sliding up. When I see her blush, I’ve gotten just the reaction I was looking for. Even better, she lifts her dress up on the sides and slips onto my lap, my middle between her legs, my cock at the apex of her thighs. Her hands find my shoulders and I take hold of her hips. “Close your eyes.”

She does, the smile drifting away.

I move between her legs so she can feel how hard she makes me. “You feel that?”

She nods.

“
She
was topless on top of me, wearing the smallest of panties.” Her eyes open as I finish. “And I never got turned on, not once with her.” The grin from last night, the one drunk on lust appears on her pretty face. The minutest of moves on her part causes my eyes to momentarily close from that same lust-filled sensation. “You affect me like no other.” I slip my hand down over the bunched material of her dress and then under it, skipping right to the good part.

She’s wet.

Through her panties.

For me.

Over Reese’s shoulder, I see the photographer testing the light. He looks our way, but pays no attention and moves on. Nimbly, two of my fingers bypass the lace edging and slip under the silk. She was never one for cheap lingerie—another checkmark in the pro column.

Her skin is soft. I rub and her mouth drops open as she struggles to keep her eyes open. “We can’t do this, Danny.”

“We’re already doing it and no one is watching.”

Her lids flutter down when I slide into her slickness.

“I want to kiss you.”

“This isn’t about kissing. It’s about connection and showing you the difference.” I move inside her, slowly. “How do you feel?”

Her hand moves down over her breasts and lower, until it’s on top of mine, the one making love to her. “I ache.” She takes my free hand, flattening my palm on her, and drags it over her stomach and up to her chest. “And in here.”

With her heart beating beneath my palm and her body on the verge of pulsing, our gazes meet. “That ache you feel is for me, baby.
Only me.
Like I ache for you.
Only you.”

“Damn you, Danny Weston.” Her eyes close, her back arching, her body tremors, her head falling back.

Like she wanted minutes before, I want now. I want to kiss her little moans away. I want to lick her neck like I did last night. I want to make love to her. I want to fuck her. I want everything with her. I want forever. Not just stolen moments.

Her chest is rising and falling, each breath inhaled deep into her chest, and slowly exhaled. She looks at me. Her thunder, the fight, the opinion of the others that she worries so much about—it’s all gone, replaced by a relaxed satisfaction. Running her hands over my shoulders, she lets them rest on either side of my neck, the gesture probably more loving, more gentle than she’s aware of.

Bryker ducks under his tent. The tension that’s now missing from her body has leached into mine. I move my hand out from under her skirt and pull it down. “We should go back.”

“Okay.” She stands up, her body unsteady at first. I hold her by the elbow and she leans against me. “You make me do very bad things, Danny.”

While trying not to alarm her, I realize what we just shared was reckless. Everything in my gut tells me I shouldn’t have put her in that position, literally and figuratively. She’s wanting to talk, to touch as much as we can without being noticed. What she doesn’t realize is that we’ve been noticed.

Not only noticed, but most likely stalked by a long-lens camera.

As she adjusts her skirt, I look down at what I felt when I was under her.
She’s marked me.
In any other circumstance, I’d wear her passion on my underwear as a badge of fucking honor… underneath my pants. But when said underwear is the star of the photo shoot, I need to get a new pair. “C’mon. I need to change.” I rearrange my hard-as-fuck dick, then take her by the elbow to hopefully block anyone from seeing the damage we’ve done.

Looking down, she giggles. I roll my eyes. “Yeah. Yeah. Laugh it up, baby. Laugh it up.”

I catch her eyes on me. The first time I called her baby on purpose. That last time it slipped, flowing naturally. She doesn’t say anything, but as her fingertips drag over the top of the weeds, I see her smile—one not meant for me, but for her. Her happiness blankets me like the sunshine. I look away, leaving her with her inner peace.

We wordlessly part, going our separate ways. Claudia is sipping a diet cola through a straw while having her makeup touched up. I try to hide the “mess” and slip past to a rack of clothes. “Becs?” I whisper from behind her as she hangs a freshly-steamed collared shirt.

She turns. “Where have you been? We need to get you ready.” She doesn’t even give me a chance to speak before grabbing the shirt and a new pair of boxer briefs from on top of her sewing kit. “Here. Change.”

When she gets a real look at me, one eyebrow rises in surprise and she turns around. “I hope you’re not keeping that weapon loaded for me. Did I mention I started dating a craft service chef who works for Warner Brothers?”

Turning away from her, I laugh and swap out the underwear. “You didn’t mention that, but good to know, and about time.”

“About time on the boyfriend or that he’s a craft service chef?” she teases.