Perfect Sense (Perfect Series Book 1) (11 page)

Shifting my eyes between Marley and Cash, I am expecting them to stop this insanity, but neither of them says a word. Instead Marley chews nervously on her bottom lip and taps out a text message and Cash’s cocksure smile meets my frown.

“Come on, Mittens. You and I both know that this is a huge endorsement is for the Bruisers.” Cash smirks, letting his dimples do their worst. “Didn’t you just tell me how you want to build a distinguished reputation as a professional?”

I open my mouth to snap at Cash that this is anything but professional, but Marley cuts me off. “I just texted Theo about using Quinn as our model.” She taps open his message. “He replied that he trusts our judgment and supports whatever it takes to get the shot done for the spread in Men’s Health.”

Theo, that traitor!

“See, Quinn, look at it as part of your job spec.” Francisco smiles and shoves me up a step toward the skeptical makeup artists.

Holy shit. What is happening? I don’t even want to be here. I didn’t ask for this and I definitely can’t model, especially with Cash’s hands all over my body. The memory of the dimple on his chin pulling deep into his defined jaw, every time he grins my way sends a chill up my spine. I’ve never been attracted to someone I hate so much.

But if this is what it takes to prove to Theo that I can make things happen, then I will do it for my career to show him how versatile and committed I am as an employee.

Francisco pulls me further down the hallway and we walk pass Nadia and a few other girls in hair and makeup condescendingly eyeing me.

“Francisco, you can’t be serious,” a tall and lanky redhead says, her tone annoyed.

“Oh, I’m so serious,” He pushes me through the double doors. “Don’t let these girls get to you. Cause you, girl, are going to rock this shoot.”

I successfully survive hair and makeup and all the questions from the stylists about Cash, his lifestyle and his current relationship status. I am able to burn through most of the questions without becoming too annoyed, telling myself I will never become one of those women vying for his attention.

It isn’t until I glance over to the other side of the room and see the outfit I am about to put on for the shoot, that my stomach twists and balls in knots. I nearly choke at the sight of the short shimmering black number staring back at me. I am equally excited and terrified because I know that once I put that dress on, I will be out there, alone, vulnerable and on camera with Cash.

“Come on, honey. Let’s get you dressed. It’s show time.” Marley’s familiar voice interrupts my thoughts.

I gulp and follow her over to the skimpy outfit hanging on the rack, staring back at me.

Feeling naked, in more ways than one, Marley guides me into the studio and under the bright lights of the set. I look down at the short, sparkly, clingy, black dress I’m wearing. It dips low in the front hardly covering my breasts and wraps around my neck with an open back.

I inhale a sharp breath when Cash appears in the distance, leaning against the doorway. His casual attire is now replaced with nothing but a tight pair of black boxer briefs. My face flames with embarrassment. I quickly try to look away, but a stylist presses up behind me and guides me onto the platform, so I’m stuck, staring mutely up at Cash.

When he finally steps into the light, with those magnificently broad shoulders and that beautiful eight-pack my eyes travel downward to those narrow hips and full bulge. My breath goes and my knees weaken. His honey hair has been styled and is swept to the side, those blue eyes shining greedily as he moves closer wrapping his hands around my waist. Suddenly all the fear and insecurities I feel diminish and the excitement he causes between my thighs rushes through my bloodstream like lightning.

Without removing his gaze from mine, the stylist fixes his hair while Francisco circles the set and argues with the lighting director. With the steady movement and noise drowning out and blurring into the background, I watch Cash’s face harden and his eyes flash as he takes me in, practically naked and bound in his arms.

He reaches for the prop hockey stick on his right. My airway constricts as I watch his large bicep curl tightly as he pulls it against his chest and uses his other hand to run his fingers gently through my wavy hair.

“You smell good,” I shift my feet nervously. I hate that he makes me nervous.

Smiling devilishly, he turns to face me with his eyes weighted as he cups the back of my head, lowering his mouth so his lips rest against my ear. “So do you.” He hisses out a sharp breath, running his hand up my thigh. “You look amazing.”

“It’s show time!” Francisco shouts, wrapping his hand around my elbow and pulls us apart. “Quinn, you look fabulous. Cash, let’s get some more oil on your chest to show off those muscles before we get started.” He clears he throat and shouts out to no one in particular. “I need more oil. NOW!”

Francisco’s assistant passes him a camera as he walks over to the front of the set. He begins focusing and adjusting his lens, taking some test shots. Marley swoops in with an open bottle of oil and starts rubbing her hands down the front of Cash’s tattooed chest. My inside heats with a twinge of jealously watching her fingers dip and wander along his every ripple.

When she works her way up to his left shoulder, sliding her hands along the front of his chest I catch a glimpse of the tattoo etched across it;
For You, A Thousand Times Over.
I take a moment to look at the calligraphy running horizontally over his taut pecks, black and simple, but beautiful. I angle my head, trying to figure out what exactly who or what he could possibly be referring to when Cash looks up and sees my questioning look.

“What's with the tattoo?”

He turns his body and puffs out his chest looking down at the markings. “Nothing. It’s a tattoo.”

“Come on. It says ‘For You,’ so it must be for someone.”

“What are you, a detective?” He turns away from me to let Marley run her hands down his muscular backside. She pretends that she isn’t eavesdropping by humming lightly to herself, but the way her eyes shift between the two of us tells me otherwise.

I snort. “Ah, it all makes sense now.”

“What makes sense?” He looks at me over his shoulder.

“That’s why you’re such a misogynistic jerk. You’ve had your heart broken.”

He spins around to face me, almost knocking Marley over in the process. I smile at him, unable to control my curiosity, especially now that he appears agitated. His eyes meet mine briefly, before he slides them down the length of my bare legs and back up to my eyes. “Unlike your petal heart, mine’s unbreakable, Mittens. Nice try though.”

“Really? Every other tattoo on your body is easy to figure out. They are either hockey related or a generic tribal design…this one though, it’s different.”

He steps in front of me and points to the first word written on his chest. “It reminds me that in an instant your life can change forever. The mistakes of my past cause me to live with regret and guilt every single goddamn day of my life. For what I lost, I would relive that day a million times over to make it right. That’s what it means, okay.”

Marley snaps the lid of the bottle shut, breaking our stare, and tosses the empty bottle into a wastebasket on the ground.

With a smile, she looks up at him, batting her eyes. “You’re ready now, Mr. Brooks.”

“Places everyone!” Francisco shouts.

“Oh God,” I mumble under my breath, nerves washing over me.

Cash pulls me against his chest and whispers against my ear. “Relax. You look smoking hot. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about.”

In an instant, the flash of the camera takes over my senses while Francisco directs our movements to work out the perfect shot. Cash’s eyes burn into mine as he grips my hair, brushing our noses slightly. I feel awkward at first, but with Cash guiding every pose we take, the more relaxed I become. As he begins to sense my ease, he pulls me closer, running his hands up my thighs. I let out a tiny gasp from his warm touch against my bare skin and his gaze flickers to mine.

He gives me roguish grin, moving his hands slowly up my sides and I find myself gravitating further into him. My legs wrap around him, my neck elongates, inviting him closer – inviting the camera to capture our electricity. He playfully nips at me and brushes his lips against my chin, my cheeks, my chest and my breasts, each peck becoming a little harder and driving me insane.

“Cash—” I hope he hears the panic in my voice.

He possessively cups my ass in his hands and my head tilts and my back arches at his touch. He leans in running his nose along my rib cage, and his hands up my sides. Suddenly I am lost, taken and torturously wanting him to take me right here in front of everyone in the middle of the studio.

Flash. Flash. Flash.

“Feel that, Mittens?” He slowly caresses the backs of my legs, awakening a billion and one unearthly prickles.

Flash. Flash. Flash.

“Cash—” I moan again, squirming beneath him.

“Give into me,” he whispers, moving us into another pose. “You know I’m not going to stop until I get what I want.”

“Cash! I want less talking and more modeling. These shots are golden and I want more,” Francisco shouts, with another flash of his camera. “Save your conversation with Quinn for after the shoot.”

Cash breaks his stare from me and turns to Francisco, grumbling, “If you want more, you got it.” His tongue flashes out, and he licks and sucks my bottom lip, then he lets go and watches me with those fiercely hypnotizing blue eyes as he trails his fingers up the front of my chest to cup my breasts.

My heart beats a mile a minute, unable to pull myself away, wanting more. The cameras, the lights, everyone watching us coupled with his commanding hands have me so worked up I can barely breathe. He slides his hands over my breasts and along my ribs and quickly spins me around, pulling my ass against his throbbing erection, until I’m a pile of putty melting in his hands. I can feel Cash’s chin brush against my shoulder as his mouth nears my ear, then grazes to a whisper from my lips.

“Don’t you dare kiss me, Brooks,” I warn.

“Or what, Mittens?”

My response falters as his hand cups the back of my neck, pulling me closer and holding me still. He runs his free hand down my bare arm and my lips part and my breathing hitches as he moves his hand up the line of my neck then uses the back of it to run his knuckles softly down my cheek. I have no time to register my fury mixed with a heavy dose of desire that surges through me when I hear him mutter, “That’s what I thought.”

His wet and sexy lips cover mine. I push my hands against his chest, trying to resist his kiss, acutely aware of all the eyes on us. Logically, my mind is telling me to end it, but my body is begging me to lose myself in the kiss that I have been craving the moment I laid eyes on him.

Finally, common sense wins my internal feud and I manage to push him back a fraction, forcing his mouth to break away from mine. I lock my eyes with his, both of us breathing heavy with the lights shining down on us. Even though I know a million eyes are on us, it feels like we are the only two people in the room.

“Do we need to take five?” The sound of Francisco’s voice brings me back to reality. I push back on Cash’s chest, embarrassed and confused from the playful flicker in his eyes as he stares back at me in silence.

He looks so damn smug, and way to gorgeous in his conceit. A million thoughts start running through my mind and panic washes over me, feeling my perfectly constructed life crashing down all around me, because of him and his damn ego. And right now, as badly as I want to slam his lips back against mine, all I can think about is how pompous he looks and how proud he must feel knowing he broke me.

“No, we’re done here.” Staggering back, I bring a trembling hand up to my mouth to cover my swollen lips. His eyes snap up to mine, the clear blue color darkened by desire. Anger flashes through them fleetingly.

“What?” Francisco shouts. “No, you can’t be done! You two are electric!” he exclaims beaming at his camera. “Quinn darling, you can’t wrap it up because of a silly kiss. Take five, splash some cold water on your face, and we’ll get you back into hair and makeup before we take the final shots.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” I scurry away, feeling Cash’s eyes follow me all the way off the set and through the double doors.

Once I am safely tucked behind closed doors, I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. My cheeks are flush and my hair is ruined from Cash’s hands running through it. I let out a trembling breath as I pin a few loose strands of hair back into place and then lean against the sink for a moment.

On the other side of the wall, I can hear the dull echo of Francisco’s voice calling for a break. Closing my eyes, a shiver moves through me, my lips still burning from our kiss. And while part of me still wants to slap him, the other part of me is so turned on from his touch, that all I want to do is yank him into this bathroom to pull down his shorts and lick.