Three Dirty Secrets (Blindfold Club #4) (13 page)

“Let’s talk about this favor,” I said.

He kept his focus on the sophisticated camera he worked to install on a tripod. “Let’s.”

“You said you’d make sure my face wasn’t in any of the pictures and you were going to Photoshop out the tattoo.”

“Yeah. I’ll crop out or airbush anything in the raw pictures.” He had a remote in his hand. There was a flash from the rigged lights on either side of the backdrop, and the sharp snap of the camera’s shutter.

“I’m going to need to make sure that’s done,” I said. “If you’re not correcting the photos tonight, I’m going to hold onto the memory card until you can.”

That got his attention. “What?”

“You seem like a trustworthy guy, but I can’t have a naked picture get posted and haunt me the rest of my life.”

He looked moderately offended. “Regan, that won’t happen.”

“I know it won’t, because those pictures stay in my possession until you’ve altered them.”

He put his hands on his hips, hinting at his frustration, but . . . tough shit. I’d worked too hard to risk my career over a bad decision. And if I was honest with myself, this night was going to be one
really
bad
decision. Hopefully so wrong and naughty, I’d never feel regret about it.

“Okay,” he said on a sigh, but his expression suddenly brightened. “You’ll have to give me your number, then, so we can arrange a time.”

Shit. “Or we could just do it tonight.”

“No. We’ll be too tired.” He was rather cocky about it. “And there’s been a change in plans. Your cop eyes noticed I didn’t bring any of Paulo’s work in here, right?”

Silas’s mysterious smile made me nervous, and my tone cautious. “I did notice that.”

“Joseph’s birthday is soon. Noemi wanted to have some boudoir pictures taken as a gift.”

It took me a moment to keep up. “And she wants
you
to shoot them?”

I couldn’t imagine she’d feel comfortable posing for Joseph’s friend, or a man in general. And . . . seriously, brain. Why the fuck was I annoyed at the thought of Noemi posing in lingerie in front of Silas? So what if she was young and beautiful? I barely knew him, and we weren’t together.

“No,” he answered. “I don’t think she’d planned on that. It was supposed to be a surprise, but Joseph found out, and now he wants me to photograph the two of them together.”

Silas’s attention returned to his setup, and he snapped a few more test shots, then studied the screen to check focus or lighting.

“Okay,” I said. “I’m not following. What does that have to do with,” I waved my hand toward the backdrop, “all this?”

“I’ve never shot anything like that before. I’d like to practice . . . with you.”

“How—” I got that same sensation I had when going into a meeting underprepared. “We’ll pose
together
?”

His smile had to be better than the devil’s. “Think you can handle that?”

The challenge in his words got me to hop down off the table. “I’m sure I can.”

“Awesome. I’ve been waiting all day to say this, Regan.” His eyes gleamed with amusement. “Take off your clothes.”

He’d spun me off guard, and I’d taken a breath before it sank in he’d just issued an order. I didn’t take those from anyone but my superiors, and I opened my mouth to remind him once again—

“
Please
,” he corrected.

I stood in his dimly lit art studio, my gaze focused on him, and tried to remind myself for the final time I was a foolish, horny woman, and what I was about to do could backfire spectacularly. Yet all I could think about was how quickly I could get his hands on my body. I slipped off my jacket and tossed it on the table.

Silas went to a cabinet of deep drawers and tugged the one open that was labeled “Photography shit.” He retrieved a large wad of white fabric, stepped onto the backdrop, and unfurled it. It was faux fur, like a fluffy bearskin rug. It was spread on the floor, and then he moved back to his camera, checking its placement in the viewscreen.

And when he seemed satisfied, he turned his undivided attention on me, like he didn’t want to miss the show. I grabbed the bottom of my blouse and camisole and lifted up, until I had them off and cast aside. My bra was steel-colored and sheer, barely better than being topless. But he wasn’t looking at my tits.

His heavy eyes followed every curve of the tattoo he’d put on me, and I shuddered under the weight. His expression was engulfed with desire, and thank God he seemed to struggle with it as much as I did mine.

His voice was low. “It looks so fucking good on you.”

I inhaled sharply when he stalked toward me, and then I got my wish. The softly calloused skin of his palm was placed on my shoulder. His simple touch was . . . sexy. It warmed all of my nerve endings, and when his thumb brushed over the ink, those nerve endings burst into flames.

He stared at the tattoo while I peered at his silver eyes. The flecks of dark blue scattered among the icy gray were so . . . pretty. Not that I’d tell him that. With his hand on me, I was rapidly dissolving into the idiot version of myself.

His fingers traced my bra strap. “Keep this on.” Those fingers slipped along the bare line of my collarbone and his eyes followed the path. “I can’t wait to photograph these.”

“My tits?”

“Your freckles.”

Heat burned in my cheeks. Like most redheads, I had an abundance of freckles, and plenty of self-consciousness to go along with them. But of course Silas would like the abstract pattern of tan dots on my pale skin.

The space between us was suddenly gone. His hand continued the journey upward until it was buried in the hair at the nape of my neck and gently tugged so my head was tipped up to meet his intense gaze. His lips were so close to mine, I could feel his hurried breath rolling over my skin.

“I’m going to direct you, is that okay?”

I laughed softly. “Yes. You have my permission to tell me what to do.”

“Yeah?” He was back to staring at my mouth again. “Take off your pants and go kneel on the rug.”

But he didn’t release me. His expression was one of confusion, like he wanted me to follow his request and also stay exactly like I was.

“You gonna let me go?” I teased.

“I really fucking want to kiss you.”

A short laugh burst from me. “Okay, then. Do it.”

He shook his head. “It’s a bad idea. Last time I had a really hard time stopping. We need to get through the shoot first.”

“You’re putting it on pause.”

He gave me a lazy smile. “Yeah. Most definitely to be continued.” He let go, looking reluctant, and gave me space to do what he’d asked.

“Christ, the floor’s cold!” I said as I took off my heels and stepped my bare feet on the smooth concrete, which had to be a few degrees warmer than ice. Was it weird to be nervous about taking my pants off? He’d already seen my naughty bits, not all at once, but still. God, I was being such a girl. A man would whip off his pants and be proud to show himself off, and I’d spent years trying to emulate male confidence at my job.

I shoved the pants down to my ankles and extracted one leg at a time, then confidently added them to my pile of discarded clothes.

Silas’s Adam’s apple bobbed as if swallowing hard. Did he like what he saw? The sheer panties hid nothing. I strolled toward the backdrop that was bathed in light, walking tall.

He’d told me to kneel, which wasn’t going to be easy for me. I watched women submit to men all the time, but I’d envied the men. The rush of power of controlling someone else’s pleasure or drawing it out . . .

I’d done extensive research on BDSM when I’d gotten the assignment. Some of it had made me anxious, and other parts I’d found intriguing. They’d turned me on. Left me wondering what it would be like to be the top in a scene, the one dictating how it went.

Joseph had figured me out within the first five minutes of our interview, but it’d taken me longer to accept it. I didn’t do submission. A large part of me wanted to explore the other side, but Matt had made it clear he wasn’t interested in that.

I took a deep breath and lowered to plant a knee in the soft rug. My focus went to the darkened figure behind the camera who was obscured by the bright lights. Silas seemed like he didn’t have a submissive bone in his body.

“Good,” he said, when I’d sat back on my heels. There was a soft pop of the lights and the loud shutter click.

“Good? I feel super awkward.”

“Put your hand on the rug beside you. Lean your weight on it.”

I did and giggled. I had to look ridiculous. Whenever I tried to look sexy, it usually resulted in me looking the
least
sexy.

Silas stepped into the shot, gently grasped my shoulders, and angled them. “Right here. Perfect.”

That was how it went for a while. He’d position my body and snap pictures, and every time he came back to guide me, I grew a little more excited. Eager for his touch. By the time he had me sitting with my back to the camera, I’d worked myself into a frenzy of need.

As the camera continued to click away, I undid the clasp of my bra, but held the cups to me. Not like it was a big reveal of my naked breasts, since the bra was flimsy, but the action encouraged him to move on. And there was also the order from me. “Take off your shirt.”

There was rustling, another click from the camera, and eventually heavy footfalls approached. I flinched when his hand swept my hair to the side, over one shoulder, tickling the sensitive skin and tiny hairs on my neck. I was hyperaware of him when he was this close. He toyed with the loose bra strap, trying to get it to lay just the way he wanted it to, and like me, the bra was mostly cooperative.

His tattoo was all patterns. Different colors and shapes, repeating. Half-circles and triangles overlapping that grouped together formed an even larger pattern. The ink flowed all across his chest and down, over his ribs and his left arm.

“Your tattoo is beautiful,” I whispered, my voice sounding as sincere as I felt.

“Thanks.” He pressed a button on the small remote in his hand, taking the first picture with him in the shot.

The tattoo was distracting. “What happened to your pants?” I asked.

Silas shot me a half-smile. “They fell off.”

“Are those
lobsters
?” His light blue boxers were patterned with red.

“Yeah.”

Here I was, in my sexiest lingerie, and he had on silly underwear? I grinned. His inked-up skin and muscular build made him look tough, but the juxtaposition with the comical pattern was charming.

His expression turned serious and intense as he grasped my shoulder and gently urged me down so my back was against the soft fur. Silas guided my feet to rest flat on the floor, my knees bent, and he knelt between them. He towered over me, all powerful and in command.

Click. Click. Click.

The camera’s shutter went much faster as he drew the bra away. I arched my back off the rug, shoving my breasts up to the ceiling. I wasn’t trying to be sexy now, but I felt that way as he tossed my bra out of the shot, and the camera documented Silas staring appreciatively at my bare flesh. My nipples tugged into sharp points, aching for more than just the touch of his gaze.

Hunger painted his face, but he stayed like a statue looming. “Touch yourself.”

He didn’t specify where, but I started with my breasts, sliding my palms over my firm skin, pushing my tits together. I let out a sigh when my thumbs rolled over my nipples.

Click.

“Okay,” I said in a hushed voice. “This is kind of hot.”

His smile was diabolical but he looked very much in agreement. Not to mention, his erection announced how much he liked what he saw. I left one hand on my breast, but the other skimmed down slowly, and he watched intently.

His bottom lip was snagged in his teeth for the briefest of moments when my fingers dove between my legs. “Fuck, I’m so wet.”

He exhaled sharply, drowning out the sound of the camera, but the flash of lights let me know he was probably pressing the button as fast as the camera would allow.

“I want to see your cock.” I wasn’t sure how much longer I was going to last and needed the layer of clothing gone. As he shed his boxers, my fingers curled around my panties to pull them down—

“No.” The word from him was aggressive. “I want a few more shots with them on.”

A noise not unlike a whine came from my throat. “Just so you’re aware, no one has ever accused me of being patient.”

He chuckled. Was he enjoying my frustration? I was too turned on and needy to care, plus now his thick cock was in view, standing out proudly from his body. My hands returned to the soaked fabric covering my pussy, rolling circles on the aching nub as he stroked himself with a fist.

I couldn’t hear the camera or the music. My focus was only on the sexy visual of him fucking his hand. The way his muscles moved, the silver piercing gleamed, and his long, artistic fingers gripped his hard cock, filled me with nervous energy. It wasn’t news, but he was big, and getting his dick inside me was going to be quite the task.