Hard Way (37 page)

“I heard you, little one.”

“And?”

“And…I’m glad he satisfied you.”

Lizzie stood abruptly. Leave it to him to kill the moment. When he danced, he could convey any emotion,
every
emotion—from playful to outright panty-wet sexy. He was as much a talented actor as he was an amazing dancer.

Offstage, he had the reserve of a sealed bank vault. Again she wanted him to break loose. Shout and cuss and call her names and
claim her
. Anything other than the torture of being ignored. Was this why he’d been so quietly pissed at her for not coming to see him perform at Devant?
Damn.
Her fears aside, she should’ve been there for him.

“Never mind.” She turned toward her bedroom.

Dima grabbed her wrist and kissed the tender skin inside. “Me, though? Not satisfied at all.”

The rhythm of her heart stuttered. “Oh?”

He dragged her arm down his body, slowly, giving her every chance to withdraw. She wound up bent over the back of the couch, her breasts pressed against his nape, her arms stretched down his lean torso. With their fingers twined, he settled her palm over his cock.

Rock hard.

She fought to speak, knowing the volume would be all off. The rush of blood in her ears was just too strong. “What about Jeanne?”

With a move more suited to the dance floor, he grasped beneath her arms and pulled her over the back of the couch. Lizzie found herself lying on her back, stretched flat across his lap, with his thighs arching her spine. Dima, the man she’d known since he was a preadolescent kid fresh over from Moscow, stared down at her with the intensity he only revealed on stage.

When the stakes were their highest.

“Don’t you know, little one? She was the wrong blonde.”

He can work with her body…as long as he doesn’t touch her heart.

Silken Canvas

© 2012 Natasha Moore

Brendan Cole burst onto the art scene in a blaze, creating erotic works of art from beautiful women. Recently, though, reviews suggest that his brilliance is burning out. He knows what’s missing—inspiration. He lost it the day his ex-lover and muse, Ashley Mancuso, walked out on him.

Together, they can once again create the erotic images that will silence the critics forever.

When Ashley runs into Brandon at an art gallery, their attraction is as hot as ever. Though she swore to never again take second place to his art, she finds herself agreeing to an impromptu photo shoot. Once in front of his lens, five long years of suppressing her kinky side melts away—and shakes her resolve to keep it strictly business.

One spellbinding session after another makes it impossible to resist talking of fantasies and long-buried desires. But once the images hit the gallery walls, all the fears and insecurities that drove them apart create a rift wide enough for danger to find its way in…

Warning: Contains a sexy, tortured artist, his gorgeous muse, and a string of pearls that creates one very erotic BDSM fantasy.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Silken Canvas:

She was magnificent. Her skin was so smooth and soft, luminous in the light from the spots above them. He laughed, low and dark, at her denial. She was perfect. This was perfect. Those reviewers would be knocked on their ass when they came in here and watched an exclusive Brendan Cole photo shoot. The anticipation had to be driving them almost as crazy as it was driving him.

“I have to go get my camera,” he told her. “It’s in the office. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” It was harder than he thought it would be to turn his back on her and walk away, even for a few minutes. He had to get the camera, had to put the next part of this plan into action.

He slid the door open.

“Brendan?” The edginess betrayed in her voice would only translate into better photos when he returned.

“I’ll be right back.” He slid the door closed. He didn’t want anyone sneaking in for a peek before he was ready.

Emily was waiting for him. So was Stuart. Brendan ignored the boyfriend. “Em, can you grab my camera from my bag in the office?” She nodded and took off. Then he turned to Stuart and all the other people gathering as soon as they saw him reappear. “Ashley has agreed to a photo shoot. Right here. Right now.”

The crowd buzzed excitedly.

“Where is she?” Stuart asked.

“I’ve prepared her for the shoot. She’s waiting for us in the other room. I’m waiting for my camera.”

“Us?” someone called out.

“Yes. Everyone who is interested in watching the shoot is welcome to join us. I only ask that you remain silent and not do anything to disrupt or distract.” Brendan was careful not to look at Stuart as he spoke.

The buzz grew louder. That was what he needed. More buzz. Bigger buzz.

Then Emily was back, his camera in her hands. Without another word, he turned back to the side gallery, slid open the door and was followed by the crowd, as he knew he would be.

He strode back over to Ashley. What an incredible image she made. He could tell the moment she realized there were others in the room with them. She almost stepped away from the wall where he’d posed her. He gripped her shoulders, leaned in until his lips brushed her lips.

“Did you think I’d forgotten?” he whispered. “Really, Ashley? How could I forget about your exhibitionist side?” He touched the tender flesh of her ear with the tip of his tongue, right beside the diamond stud. “Everyone is here with us. Stuart. Emily. The entire crowd. They’re all here to watch.” She gasped and her slick lips parted. “How many pairs of eyes do you think are on you right now? How many people see you bound in red ribbons, nearly bursting out of your dress, teetering on those amazing do-me heels?”

“Just take the picture,” she whispered, a ragged plea in her voice. His thumbs brushed the edges of her lips as she spoke. “Take the picture and let me go.”

“But you don’t want me to let you go. Not really.” He took a deep breath and let her tangy scent wash over him. “You can’t deny it. I can smell your arousal already.”

She whimpered, obviously still not ready to admit anything. It didn’t matter, as long as she did what she was told. As long as he could use her to create the images that wouldn’t leave him alone. Images that would send those reviewers scrambling to write their glowing comments.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he said. “I’m going to take pictures. Lots of pictures. You’re going to stand there and let me, while everyone here watches. If I tell you to move, you’ll do it. If I—”

“Is everything all right?” a male voice called out.

Ah, the boyfriend, asserting his territorial rights. Brendan didn’t even bother looking his way. “I’m explaining to Ashley what I have in mind for the shoot.”

“I’m fine, Stuart.”

Brendan had to give her credit, she sounded calm even though he swore he could hear the pounding of her heart. He dropped his hands from her face but didn’t step away. He leaned forward until his lips touched her ear. “Does your boyfriend know you get hot thinking about all those eyes on you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” The outrage in her whisper had a touch of unease behind it.

So the boyfriend didn’t know how kinky Ashley really was. Interesting. But one glance at Stuart’s dark gaze and Brendan knew he was eager to watch this shoot too. “I bet he’s hard as a rock while all these people stare at his woman. I bet he can’t wait to show all his friends the naughty pictures of the woman he takes to bed.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And maybe you don’t know him as well as you think you do. Maybe he has a secret side he’s hiding from you too.” He nipped her earlobe. “I’m taking the pictures now. No more talking.”

Brendan stepped back then. The color was high on her cheeks. If he could see her eyes, he knew they’d be blazing. This was the look he wanted. Emotions high. Arousal and passion clear even while her eyes were covered.

Perfect.

Brendan walked backward, his arms out to the side, impatiently pushing people out of the way. Yes, it was as he’d envisioned it. Pale skin, dark hair. Dark dress. Dark shoes. God, those shoes. Those legs. The bright red of the ribbons jumped out against the black and white.

Her tongue darted out to wet her red lips. He had been half-erect ever since he saw her walk through the door.

As much as he’d tried, he’d never been able to fully separate the man from the artist. Being with Ashley taught him that he was foolish to even try. He never felt more alive as when he was creating a work of art from a beautiful woman. Yet he could usually control his reactions better than this. The body was merely his canvas, after all.

But Ashley was different. He’d always dreamt of getting his hands on her again. Had always longed to take the pictures he never had the chance to before. Excitement he hadn’t felt in months surged through his veins. He’d show those reviewers what he was capable of.

He reached for his camera and bumped into more bodies. He whipped around impatiently to look for Emily and found himself staring at Ashley’s boyfriend. Yeah, he was turned on too. But what red-blooded man wouldn’t be aroused by the image she made? He frowned and pushed Stuart out of his way.

“Please move back to give Mr. Cole some room to work,” Emily called out. His sister was at his side in an instant and pressed the camera into his hands. Excitement rang in her voice. He knew she saw dollar signs flashing before her eyes.

A hush fell over the crowd as they finally gave him some breathing room. He walked around Ashley, gauging the light, working with the shadows. He couldn’t wait until he could bare more of her pale skin. Lay her out on black velvet. Wrap her in strands of beads. Pearls, it had to be pearls.

He had to start gathering supplies. Body paint. Candles. Those pearls. He could picture each image in his mind. He’d been dreaming about them for years.

But he didn’t need the distraction now.

He pushed the future out of his mind and focused on Ashley. He took shot after shot. Wide angle. Tight. He zoomed in on her bound wrists and noticed the way she slowly stretched out her fingers, then pulled them into tight fists before stretching them out again. Her breath was coming faster, her breasts rising and falling, nearly bursting free from that little black dress.

He took a tight shot of her parted lips and had a sudden memory of her taste on his tongue. He’d been haunted by erotic images of Ashley since the first time he met her. He’d been feeding his art with erotic memories of Ashley since the last time he saw her.

He pushed the past out of his mind. It was as out of place as the future. The only thing that counted was what was happening right now. The only thing that mattered was the shot.

“Ashley, drop your head back.” She immediately did as he told her. Good. Her long curls brushed the ribbons at her wrists. He clicked a few more shots of her hands shadowed by her hair. Then he lifted his gaze. His breath caught as he took in the graceful curve of her throat, the wide stretch of pale skin between the slope of her jaw and the curve of her breasts. His hands suddenly itched to touch her silken skin again. He grasped the camera more tightly and took more shots, forcing himself to focus on the image, on the sensual profile, on the light and shadow and color and form.

“Now face the wall,” he called out. She lifted her head and turned to look his way, a frown marring her forehead. Even though he knew she couldn’t see him, he swore he could feel her gaze burning into him. She didn’t move.

He couldn’t have her questioning his commands. She had to obey him instantly. “Face the wall,” he growled.

She sighed so deeply, he could hear the breath leave her lungs, see her breasts rise and fall with the effort. But when she slowly turned around, he nearly groaned out loud at the image she made. Her wavy hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back like a dark chocolate waterfall, the long ends of the necktie telling their silent tale. Her shapely legs stretched out for miles from the narrow heels up to the hem of the short skirt. Her bound hands wrapped in red, rested against her luscious, heart-shaped ass.

He quickly took some more shots, trying not to think about his hands on her ass, stroking the skin, squeezing the curves. He could still hear the breathless cries she’d make when he buried himself deep inside her. Could still smell her musky scent as it surrounded him. Still taste her hungry lips as she devoured his.

Her skin had been like silk beneath his hands. Her body had responded passionately to his every word, every touch. And he had responded just as strongly to her.

“Brendan?”

Emily’s soft voice and her hand on his shoulder pulled him away from the memories. He was staring at Ashley, the camera hanging down by his side. The crowd around them was getting restless, the murmurs growing louder.

“I’ll need your computer to download these.” He turned to escape the tempting sight before him and the scent that wrapped around him still. It was a waste of time to dwell on the past. He had to see the shots, pick out the perfect image quickly. The one that would convince her that she wanted to pose for him every bit as much as he wanted to—needed to—use her body for his art.