Heartsville 04 - Clique (Jayden Brooks) (6 page)

A garbled mess of moans escaped my throat.

“God, I love the way you smell. The way your skin tastes,” Brandon breathed against the nape of my neck.

Then something bizarre happened.

I started laughing. And dancing foot to foot. I squeaked and snorted and jerked and rolled my face against the glass.

Still pressed against me, Brandon grumbled, “That’s not the reaction I was aiming for.”

Around my helpless giggling, I panted, “She’s… tickling….” I tried to escape her little tongue and razor-sharp puppy teeth. “My… toes,” I howled.

Brandon stepped back and started laughing as I took off with Lulu in hot pursuit of my toes. “Hey, where are you going?”

“Upstairs. Someone wanted me to get dressed.” I kept on the move, running in circles around props, giving Brandon time to catch up.

“Someone has a big mouth,” he mumbled.

I took hold of my semihard dick, thrust my hips forward, and sent him an exaggerated leer. “That’s promising.”

Lulu caught my big toe with a tooth and I squealed and darted for the back stairs.

Brandon snorted, clearly amused with our antics, and gamely followed.

Fierce little Lulu hesitated at the flight of stairs leading up to my apartment. She whined, pawed at the first and second stair, then retreated and danced in a circle. I sat on a cold step a third of the way up, spread my knees, and patted the step below in encouragement. “C’mon, Lulu. You can do it.” She whined and looked toward Brandon, who was watching me with a fond expression that I could get used to.

My body was covered in gooseflesh from sitting nearly naked in the unheated stairwell, but the look in Brandon’s eyes caused a heat deep in my belly. Lulu’s pitiful whimpers drew my attention again. The young miss just needed a little more encouragement. I scooted down a few steps. Her ears perked up and her tail wagged in a frenzy of anticipation, and her gaze darted between my face and my toes. The little tyrant.

“Lulu darling, I do believe you’ve developed a foot fetish.”

Brandon’s voice was a deep rasp. “An Adam fetish, more like.”

With a cheeky grin, I said, “Let’s hope it’s contagious.” And incurable.

Once I was in position—close enough to be a temptation but just out of reach—I straightened my legs and wiggled my toes. She lunged for them. I expected as much. What I hadn’t expected was for her to be so wildly successful that she’d skip a step entirely. I screeched and practically flipped to my hands and knees before scrambling up the stairs with Brandon’s laughter echoing behind me.

Once in the apartment, the polished wood floors offered no traction to the blue-gray pup. I easily maintained a lead into my bedroom and leapt into the welcoming embrace of flannel and down. With my toes safely out of reach, I leaned over the side of my bed to peek and nearly had a face full of snout as Lulu jumped on her hind paws. “No way. You are not getting in my bed.”

“What are my chances if I promise not to bite?”

I rolled to my back, spread my feet, and looked down the length of my body to where Brandon stood in my doorway. Wriggling my butt deeper into the bed was entirely reflexive. As was the tenting of my banana boxers. The jokes just make themselves, don’t they?

“Biting is compulsory where you’re concerned.” I waggled my eyebrows. “You were bragging about a big mouth.”

He adjusted the impressive bulge in his jeans, and with a wicked grin took a step in my direction. And stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening in dismay. “Lulu, noooo.”

With a sense of dread, I looked and saw a Lulu standing over a spreading puddle—tail tucked and head lowered in shame.

“Damn, I’m sorry, Adam. I’ll clean it up. She’s just a baby.” He darted out of the room and came back with paper towels.

“It was just an accident. It’s not a big deal, hon.”

His shoulder froze mid-dab, and he looked over his shoulder at me, his expression far too happy for the task.

“What?”

He shrugged. “Nothing.” But the smile remained.

It puzzled me for a while, but I focused on the four-legged companion who sat watching Brandon with a solemn expression.

Brandon stood and went into my bathroom.

Lulu hardly moved.

As I climbed out of bed, I noticed her gaze dart to me but quickly fall to the floor. To let her know I wasn’t upset, I wiggled my toes. Nothing. Oh, the poor baby. I reached down and scooped her into my arms. She licked my chin and tucked her head into my neck. I climbed back into bed and pulled the covers over us both. She squirmed for a moment, let out a huff, and promptly fell asleep.

The cover was gently tugged back, revealing our heads. “What happened to your no–puppy-in-bed rule?” Brandon asked as he snuggled next to me on top of the blankets.

“She was breaking my heart.”

“You’re a softy, huh?”

“I take pictures of babies. I sass, but I’m just a big sap.”

“A romantic.”

I hummed my assent.

“I like your place. What I’ve seen of it, anyway. I’d love to see more. Especially of the studio.”

My breath hitched in my chest, but I managed to give a nonchalant nod. “I’ll give you the full tour.” Up until this point, I’d been crushing hard and primarily focused on getting laid. I hadn’t dared hope for anything more.

“Great. How about some coffee first?”

Ugh. I felt my expression fall and a chunk of my happy mood went with it. “I’m out of coffee.” Wanting to please him, I offered what I had. “There are coffee pods in the studio.” My reluctance was hard to hide.

“Is that so? Well, I actually came prepared.” He held up a finger. “Hold that thought.”

I’d be a bald-faced liar if I said my hopes didn’t take flight that real coffee was imminent. Gently easing away from Lulu, I slipped from the bed. With a burst of speed, I zoomed around the room kicking discarded clothes to a corner pile. Hey, I’m a single dude who works at all hours. And I wasn’t expecting company.

After a quick stop in the bathroom to brush my teeth, I yanked on a pair of navy track pants and a gray Havenston University hoodie. There was no hope of styling my sloppy hair, so I hid it with a skull cap. Just as I stepped out of my room, Brandon entered the apartment carrying a drink tray and a familiar paper bag.

When he caught sight of me, his lips curved into a lopsided grin. “Where do you want this?”

He chuckled as I rubbed my belly. “The table’s fine.”

The coffee he handed me was perfect. It had cooled enough that I practically guzzled it. “I needed that.”

Brandon tipped his drink in my direction and asked, “Did you go to Havenston?”

“I didn’t go to college.” Part of me worried that he’d lose interest in me. When he only lounged back, extended his legs, and crossed his feet, I decided to explain further. “I came to work with my aunt Olivia straight out of high school. My dad wasn’t happy about it. He didn’t want me following his sister’s artsy lifestyle.” I shrugged.

“Were you bucking authority?”

I shook my head. “I wanted to do what Olivia did. She was the only one who could teach me.”

“How old where you when you knew?”

Thinking back, I knew the exact age. “Seven.” I chuckled at the surprise on Brandon’s face. “Yeah, it was really early. Olivia fascinated me, like pure magic. And in a way, that’s exactly what she was all about.” I glanced at him and asked, “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

He sat forward, elbow on the table, and propped his chin in his hand. “Absolutely. And I promise to return the favor.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” I warned.

He bowed his head and waved his hand for me to continue. So I did.

“One of my earliest memories is of her taking my picture. In a hushed voice she’d tell me a story about what she saw through the lens. I remember how my heart pounded, sorta scared but mostly enthralled. I believed. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t see what she did. Some weeks later, a package would arrive, filled with the photos from our session. The expected portraits for the parents were there. But there’d be a second envelope marked confidential—for Adam’s eyes only.” My eyes burned and I had to roll my lips to still the tremble. “The picture inside was pure magic… just for me. Gremlin fingers reaching from behind a blade of grass to untie my shoelace. Fairy feet dangling from a branch overhead. Tiny treasures that sometimes took months to discover.” I cleared my throat and tried to decide if I should continue.

“You can’t stop there.” He sat up and scooted to the edge of his seat.

Olivia would’ve been charmed by Brandon.

“I started calling her, begging her to visit and reminding her to bring her camera. I loved watching her expression when she reached into that magic bag of hers. Pure anticipation. Like she couldn’t wait.” I shrugged self-consciously. “I asked millions of questions, about everything. God, I wouldn’t leave her alone, but she never seemed to mind. Then one day, she started asking me what I thought would make a good picture.” I rubbed the ache in my chest. “I must’ve been seven. Nobody had ever asked for my opinion. It was a revelation.”

“She sounds like a remarkable human being.”

Yeah, she was.

“I noticed the pink ribbons out front and in the studio.”

Nodding, I rubbed my hands on my thighs and stood. I needed to move around, so I started to clear the table, but Brandon pulled me down onto his lap. Feeling raw, I sat stiff-backed until I felt his hand smooth up and down my spine.

“I imagine the two of you were quite the team, huh?”

Just as I was about to make a snarky comment to lighten the mood, I heard a faint growl.

“Oh fuck!”

“Lulu.”

“Don’t potty on my bed, you little termagant.”

We reached the doorway at the same time and slid to a stop, frozen in sheer awe at the destructions wrought on my poor defenseless pillow. She’d gutted it. With a final fierce shake of her head, she sent feathers flying. When she noticed us, she promptly dropped the remains of her kill. She laid on her belly, head innocently resting on her paws and tail wagging, while around her, feathers wafted in a lazy rocking fall to the floor.

Only one thought prevailed…
I want a dog
.

Seven

The next few weeks were hectic beyond all reason. Not that I let it deter me from spending time with Brandon. No matter how tight the window, or how much I paid for it later, it was worth it. And as an added bonus, I had expanded my skill set. I’d become a master at splitting my attention between my Mac and the sidewalk beyond the studio window. That’s no easy feat, especially for someone like me who tends to become absorbed in work. It didn’t hurt that I had an uncanny ability to spot Brandon in a crowd.

I exploited my new superpowers at every opportunity. Sometimes that meant darting out of the studio to join Brandon on a walk with one of his four-legged charges. Or maybe it meant sitting on the bench across the street in the cool October morning to share coffee and muffins. My personal favorite is how often I’d find myself pinned against the side of my building while he kissed me stupid. Good times. And I needed more of them. Stat.

Regardless of how many hours I worked, my to-do list just grew. And grew. I had to face reality: I needed to hire help. But who? Who could I trust?

Clique was my aunt’s legacy. Her work, her heart, and all I had left of the woman who taught me everything. Olivia spent years building a loyal client base for Clique. Parents raved far and wide over her stunning portraits, while their little darlings told hushed tales of magical afternoons. Word of mouth alone accounted for the bulk of her business. But once she’d been featured in a parenting magazine and recognized for her work with special-needs children, her bookings exploded. We could hardly keep up with demand. When she became ill, everything changed. There’d been no choice. Priorities shifted.

I cherished the time I had with her, and for trusting me with everything she held dear.

I kept Clique busy by continuing the type of work my aunt had been well-known for, while putting my own spin on things and expanding the offerings to include graphic design. My backlog was relatively manageable, except for the times when I overextended myself. Or when an innocuous gig at Pumped, the local gym, for website redesign photos turned into an impromptu fitness shoot that went viral.

I’d been wrapping things up when I caught sight of Grant doing warm-ups and stretches. The local pseudo-celebrity wasted no time capitalizing on the opportunity that stood drooling at his feet. With hardly more than a few leading comments and a little Tom Sawyer charm, he “allowed” me to snap a few shots while I practically tripped over myself in gratitude. What can I say? The dude was fine, the light was perfect, and I loved the way his muscles rippled and bunched.

Once I shook off the sweaty-hot-dude spell, I sat down to tinker with the images. The results were heavily stylized and sexy as fuck. I e-mailed him two hi-def watermarked images.

He posted them to his social media and website. The next thing I knew, my voice mail and e-mail were jammed with requests, and my social media pages were accumulating followers faster than I could believe. I’d be a fool not to seize the unexpected windfall.