The Exposure (9 page)

Regardless, it wasn't the time or the place to give her the type of kiss he wanted, so he took her hand once again and started walking toward his favorite pizzeria. It wasn't a long walk, but he was thankful it was long enough to cool his blood and keep him from doing something he wasn't quite ready to do.

Meagan didn't say anything while they walked. More than likely she was fuming over his threat to take her over his knee, but he really didn't care. She might identify as a switch, but she needed to understand she wasn't going to Top him.

The owner of the pizzeria hurried to the front of the restaurant as soon as he saw Luke enter. He gave only a passing glance to their finery before punching Luke on the shoulder.

“Good to see you, DeVaan. What can I do for you tonight?”

“Good to see you, too, Angeleno.” Luke raised an eyebrow. “Meagan?”

“Thin crust. All the veggies.”

“Give us a large thin with all the veggies, a bottle of your house red, and a tablecloth. To go.”

Angeleno snapped his fingers. “It is done. Give me fifteen minutes.”

Luke turned back to Meagan. Fifteen minutes was long enough for her to decide she didn't want an impromptu picnic in Central Park. But she was watching him with curious eyes that held a hint of laughter and Luke couldn't help but smile.

“What?” he asked.

“Do you do this often?”

“First time, actually.”

He was going to tell her she could ask Angeleno when he came back, but she seemed satisfied with his answer.

“I've walked by this place, but never stopped,” she said, looking around.

Luke tried to imagine it was his first time entering. It was difficult; he'd been to the tiny restaurant often over the years and the owners were like a second family. To him, the entire space gave a warm and comforting vibe. Soft candlelight, crisp tablecloths, and the inviting aroma of brick oven–baked pizza. “If you haven't eaten the pizza here, you haven't had real pizza yet.”

“I'll hold off on making that decision until I've tasted it.”

“You'll be singing its praises by the time the night's over.”

A large family came in and they were all so packed in the small area, there wasn't much opportunity to talk anymore. Right as the group was seated, Angeleno appeared with the pizza and two bags.

“I have everything you need in the bags,” he told Luke while he rang him up. “And Teresa insisted on sending cannoli. On the house.”

“You truly married an angel. Be sure to tell her thank you for me.”

The older man grinned. “I certainly will. Now you two go and have fun.”

“He seems really nice,” Meagan said once they were outside again and headed toward the park.

“I swear he's half saint. He and Teresa have always been there for me. They're great when you just need someone to listen.”

He didn't mean to say that; it just spilled out. Hopefully, she wouldn't push and want to know more about what the sweet couple had listened to him talk about. Namely because it was her. During those awful days that followed their breakup, they'd listened and didn't pass judgment.

Perhaps Meagan could tell, because she didn't pursue it any further. “Where should we have the picnic?”

“I think just inside the park,” he said, thankful that she'd picked up on his unspoken desire. “Much more likely for me to behave if there are people close by and a chance we'll be seen.”

She cut her eyes at him, probably in an effort to see if he was teasing or telling the truth. Because he didn't want her to know just how close to the truth he'd been, he made sure his expression gave away nothing.

They had lucked out. The weather was perfect for a picnic, and though there were several couples and families who had the same idea they did, Luke was able to find a somewhat secluded spot. He handed the box and bags to Meagan and spread out the tablecloth on the ground.

She placed the items on the red-and-white-checkered fabric and then lowered herself to sit as gracefully as she could. “I can't believe we're doing this.”

They were getting quite a few double takes from their fellow Central Park visitors. Let them look. Luke imagined every guy who walked by was wishing he was the one sitting across from Meagan. Angeleno had packed some paper plates, so Luke took one and put two slices of pizza on it before handing it to Meagan.

“Thanks.” She bit into her first piece and her eyes nearly rolled to the back of her head. “Mmm, damn. This is seriously good.”

Luke refrained from saying,
I told you so.
“Bet it beats what Guy had on the menu.”

“No doubt, but Robin will be upset we left early. I think
you
were on her menu for the evening.”

“She should go with pizza. Much more likely to happen.”

Meagan snickered.

“Is she like that with everyone?” he asked.

“Only the men who are really hot.” She stopped and tilted her head. “No, scratch that. She's like that with anyone who has a penis.”

“I fear for all the males in the world.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes, watching the people passing by. A little girl walking with her mom and dad saw them and pulled her parents to a halt.

“Mommy, look. Daddy, look.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It's a princess.”

Luke glanced at Meagan to see if she'd heard. She had. She waved at the child, then blew her a kiss and waved.

The little girl squealed with delight and waved back. “You're so pretty.”

Meagan smiled and nodded in acknowledgment, looking exactly like the princess she'd been mistaken for. The mom bent down and whispered in her daughter's ear and the child nodded enthusiastically.

“'Bye, 'bye, princess.” She waved as her parents led her down the sidewalk.

“So sweet,” Luke said when the trio was out of sight.

“She was,” Meagan said wistfully. “I love how children see the world for all its good and believe everything is full of magic.”

“Damn shame anyone has to grow up.”

“I never pictured you as the Peter Pan type.”

“I don't want to stay a child, but when you see a little one like that? I hate to see them lose that sense of wonder.”

“That's rather telling.” She reached for another piece. “When did you lose yours?”

“I was ten.”

“What happened?”

“My parents got a divorce.”

Meagan nodded. “That'll do it. Nothing like the two people who mean the most to you to decide they can't stand each other anymore.”

“I guess it's hard for anyone at any age, but I felt totally blindsided.”

“Do you see them a lot now?”

He twisted the plastic cup Angeleno had given them for the wine. “My mom died of breast cancer six years ago. Dad remarried and is living in Texas. I don't see him often.” Another subject he didn't want to talk about. “How about you? How are your parents?”

“My father was a fireman and died in the line of duty. My mom was never the same after and died a few years ago.”

His heart ached for the grief he heard in her voice. “I'm so sorry.”

She shook it off. “Now, my dad's parents are still alive. They've been married eighty years.”

Luke gave a low whistle. “Eighty years?”

“Don't be too impressed. I'm certain they only stayed married to piss the other off.”

“I don't care. That's a long-ass time to stay married out of spite. We should change the subject—this is depressing,” he said.

Meagan took another slice of pizza. “Let's talk about how it's possible I've lived in New York for as long as I have and I've never tried this pizza.”

“Don't forget we have cannoli.”

“I never forget dessert.”

He waited until she'd finished the slice she had in her hand before opening the container holding the pastry. But when she reached for it, he shook his head. “Nope. Let me.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly, but parted her lips.

“There we go,” he said, slipping it into her mouth.

“Oh, man. This is better than the pizza and I didn't think that was possible.” Her tongue darted out and licked her lips, capturing the sugar gathered there. She gave a happy sigh and he wished he could join her, but the sight of her licking her lips made him too damn hard to join in and act content.

“I don't know about the session tonight,” she said. “All these carbs.”

“You'll do fine.” He reached over and encircled her wrist with his thumb and forefinger. “Besides, you're too skinny. You won't even notice the carbs on you.”

“Bet I will.”

He stroked her wrist with his thumb. “Bet I can make you forget all about them.”

*   *   *

M
eagan shivered from the faint contact Luke made with her skin. The way his fingers moved against the sensitive area on the underside of her wrist gave her just enough of a hint of how they would feel along other parts of her body. More than that, though, it made her want his touch. Want him.

If she closed her eyes, she could pull from her memory how his fingers felt years ago. Then, his touch was certainly knowledgeable, but it had lacked a certain confidence that he clearly
had now. She had a feeling that as much as he had rocked her world all those years ago, he would put her in such a spin now, she might never recover.

He sat beside her, watching her with those observant Dom eyes that didn't miss anything. She couldn't help but notice that his eyes had grown dark. Touching her affected him just as much as it did her. His touch grew lighter and lighter until his fingers left her wrist completely.

“Are you finished eating?” he asked, his voice husky.

“Yes,” she answered, and she had the strange feeling she was agreeing to something else.

He stood and helped her to her feet; then they both collected the litter. Luke folded the tablecloth and tucked it under his arm, saying he'd return it to Angeleno later. When the area was clean and they left the park, it was dusk.

By the time they reached Luke's house, it was dark, though the clear sky allowed the full moon to show off. Luke appeared pleased with the light it provided. He stepped out of the car and nodded. She thought she heard a murmured “Perfect” as he helped her out.

Since he'd said they'd be doing the session outside, she waited for him to give her instructions.

“I'm going to step inside and get my equipment. Do you mind waiting out here?” he asked.

“I'll be fine out here,” she said. “It's pretty tonight.”

He wasn't gone long. When he returned, he'd removed his jacket and tie. His top button was undone, exposing his neck and chest. Damn, she wanted to touch him. Wanted to unbutton his shirt, peel it off his shoulders, and run her hands over his chest.

Either he didn't notice her desire, or else he chose to ignore
it. “Stand right there,” he said, setting up the camera. “The moon's at the perfect angle.”

She didn't know the first thing about angles and lighting, but if he was happy with it, she was, too. For several minutes, she swayed in the moonlight, brushed her hair back, and looked up at the sky. She'd never been photographed outside before, much less at night. There was something almost surreal about it.
Magical
would have been a good word if she believed in such things. Whatever it was, she felt alive.

“Can you unzip the dress by yourself?” he asked.

“I got it on alone,” she reminded him.

“I figured,” he said. “Just didn't know if you needed help.”

“If you helped, we probably wouldn't get any more photographs taken tonight.”

“Are you stalling?”

Maybe she was. He'd seen her naked before. Recently even. But this somehow seemed different. More personal. More intense. Just
more
.

Because they were alone? Or because they'd gotten to know each other better since then?

She turned so her back was to him and, looking slyly over her shoulder, she ever so slowly reached behind to her back and tugged the zipper down.

The only negative to having him as her photographer was the inability to see his eyes. Of course, maybe that was for the best, because
this way
she could pretend his expression held anything she wanted it to.
Yes.
Tonight she would play his moonlit muse and he would love her for it.

She looked off to her side as the gown slowly slipped from her shoulders and bit her lip as if unsure about what she was doing. In her mind and for the camera, she became someone
else. She was an inexperienced siren gradually becoming aware of the power she held over the men around her. She turned her body slowly, brushing her hair over her shoulders, and twisted her hips so the gown fell softly to the ground.

Forget holding power over men—there was only one man she cared about. Luke.

He was silent as he worked, but she didn't mistake the sharp intake of breath when she was finally naked and faced him fully. Even then, she wouldn't look the camera in the eye for fear it would break the spell they were both weaving.

Together in the moonlight, they became the creators of an untold story. Making magic with the way she moved her body and the way he captured what he saw through his lens. No words were spoken while they worked. None were needed. For whatever reason, when he picked up his camera and focused it on her, they moved as one. It had been that way before and the years hadn't diminished that.

Though she wasn't watching him, she sensed when he stopped and put the camera down. She was surprised he'd finished; time seemed to have flown. But even more surprising was the realization she wasn't ready for the night to be over.

She heard rustling as he put the camera away.

“You can get dressed if you want,” he said, breaking the silence, but not the spell. “Or I can go get you a robe.”