Playing for Real: Paolo's Playhouse, Book 5 (19 page)

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.

The crowd parted for him. As he walked away he caught Stuart’s dark, aroused look. “You can untie her now. If you want to.”

There will be pain…but only if she asks nicely.

You Really Got Me

© 2014 Kelly Jamieson

Kendall Vioget fell hard for Police Chief Jason Holloway, until the best sex of her life became something more, something she wasn’t ready for. Afraid of what he asked of her, afraid of her own desires, she walked away.

Now her brother’s fiancée has gone missing a week before the wedding, bringing Jason back into her life. She needs his help, but her body is losing the battle to resist the hunger to satisfy the dark cravings he can set free.
 

Jason understands what she needs, and when her increasing submission banishes the self-doubts he’s been carrying around, he knows a perfect match like this comes along only once in a lifetime. Until the missing persons case becomes a murder investigation, and suspicion falls on her brother.

Kendall will do anything to protect the only family she has left, and Jason will do anything to make sure a killer is put behind bars. If he doesn’t handle this case right, the most precious gift she could have given him—her trust—will be destroyed. Permanently.

Warning: This book contains bondage, spanking, a sexy police chief determined to catch a killer, a woman determined to protect her family, and wine…lots of wine.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
You Really Got Me:

Jason followed Kendall into his bedroom. As she took in the flickering candles he’d placed around the room her steps slowed. Music pulsed quietly in an urgent, erotic rhythm and the scent of beeswax hung in the air. A smile curved her lips as her gaze roamed to his big bed, then landed on the rope and the blindfold lying there. Her eyes widened.

She swallowed and turned to look up at him.

Candlelight gleamed on her shiny dark hair. Her big brown eyes shadowed with questions and her pretty lips parted. So beautiful. So perfect.

 
In the time they’d been seeing each other, things between them had developed from a spine-tingling attraction to a deep, urgent need. Innocent dinner dates at charity events and restaurants had eventually led to sex, the best he’d ever had, sex that had become harder and faster and darker. Yeah, he’d pushed it, but she’d gone there with him. Perfect.

“What is this music?” she asked of the techno beat pulsing around them.

“Lords of Acid,” he said, holding her gaze. “The song is ‘Rough Sex’.”

Her long eyelashes fluttered rapidly. “You really need to start listening to rock n’ roll,” she muttered.

His lips twitched. They’d had this conversation about their divergent musical tastes before. Although before, they’d been talking about the differences between Rascal Flatts and Keith Urban, and the Doors and Cream, including a lively discussion comparing Keith Urban’s guitar skills to Eric Clapton’s.

“This music suits my mood tonight,” he murmured. “Tonight…I’m going to give you what you’ve been wanting.”

Her eyes widened again and she sucked in a breath.

Rough sex.

“You need this,” he said, keeping his tone gentle, holding her gaze steadily. “You know it, Kendall.”

“Need what?” she whispered with another nervous glance toward the bed.

“Need me to take control.”

She bit her lip, studying him.

“Been watching you, babe.” He reached out and touched gentle fingertips to her jaw. “Every time…I know you want more.”

“I’m afraid,” she confessed, still in a whisper.

“Afraid of me?” His thumb brushed over her bottom lip.