Page 31 of Turning Up the Heat

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

GEMMAEXITEDTHE dressing room. She’d already done the interview, during which the friendly female writer had asked her questions about her family and how it felt to be a woman in the industry. But now came the photo shoot, and she was feeling nervous. She clutched the thick robe to her body. She’d been ready to do it, but there was a nervous flutter in her belly. She looked over at the craft services table and saw Tom. He smiled when he saw her, encouraging her. She smiled back and felt better. He had been excited about the shoot and not at all jealous or mad that it would be sexy in nature.

The photographer’s assistant helped her up onto the raised platform that held a mattress and several pure white sheets, made up to look like a bed.

“How are you feeling, Gemma?” Clint, the photographer, asked her as he readied his equipment.

“I’m good.”

“Fantastic. You can drop the robe whenever you’re ready.”

Another assistant, this time a woman, held up the sheet that barred Gemma from view as she removed the robe and handed it off.

She kneeled on the mattress and pulled the bedsheet up to her front, covering her naked body. The luxurious, impossibly high thread-count white cloth slid over her skin like a lover’s tender fingers, sending shivers throughout her body. Her eyes traveled over to Tom’s—his gaze was fixed on her.

“All right, let’s do it,” Clint said, raising his camera. “You look great, just give me confidence. Give me sexy.”

With the flash in her eyes, she shifted the sheet around her body. Showing some skin, just enough to tease that, save the nude-colored thong, she was naked underneath. Her confidence soared. Shaking her head, she tossed her hair over her shoulder, the perfectly sculpted curls falling down her back. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Tom, watching her every moment seated in the corner of the cool room. Their eyes connected, and he smiled before she looked away from him and, pursing her lips, looked into the camera lens.

“Beautiful, Gemma,” Clint encouraged as he snapped another several dozen photos of her. “Just like that. Give me sexy.” She arched her back and posed for a few more. She felt fabulous, and so glamorous. This was different from anything she’d ever done for work. It was so freeing and empowering to finally shed her coveralls and do something outside of her comfort zone. Her eyes caught Tom’s as he sat in the corner watching her, his attention trained on her as if she was the only one in the room.

“That’s great, Gemma. Beautiful,” Clint said, lowering the camera. “I think we’ve got everything we need.”

With the camera lowered, Gemma again became aware of her state of undress. She was no longer the glamorous model under the lens of the camera, but was back to being Gemma. With the shoot over, the spell had broken, and she felt self-conscious. Wrapping herself fully in the sheet, she waited for the photographer’s assistant to come back with her robe. Gemma gratefully accepted it and crawled as gracefully as she could from the mattress. She noticed that Tom hadn’t moved from where he sat in the corner of the room.

As the crew worked, clearing the set, Gemma sauntered over to Tom. “What’d you think?” she asked, leaning down to kiss him.

He remained seated, but his hands smoothed over her hips. “I think if I stood up, you’d see exactly what I thought,” he said with a grin, nodding down to his crotch.

She looked down, and she could see the bulge in his lap, and she braced her hands high on his thighs, dangerously close to his erection. Leaning in again, she put her lips to his ear. “Well, I’m going to go get dressed, and then we can get back to the hotel and you can tell me just how much you enjoyed it.”

Back at her hotel room, Gemma had barely shut the door behind them before Tom was on her. He pushed her light jacket from her shoulders, and then his hands were on the buttons down the front of her blouse. His fingers were insistent but also nimble as he slid each delicate button out of its hole. The blouse had cost more money than she was comfortable admitting, but all she wanted was for him to rip the fine silk from her body.

When she was finally free of her shirt, she took the opportunity to push Tom’s T-shirt over his head, as well. She kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. It still wasn’t close enough. She was desperate for him, wanted to breathe him in, needed every piece of him inside of her. His hands went under her skirt, pushing it up over her hips, and he pulled down her panties. Without releasing him from her kiss, she kicked them away.

Tom lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She was still wearing her strappy stilettos, and he grunted when the heels dug into his lower back.

“Sorry,” she whispered against his lips.

“Don’t be,” he groaned back before kissing her again.

He pushed her against the wall next to the bed, and she watched as he reached down for the box of condoms they’d left on the bedside table. Tom had one hand gripping her ass, and she was wedged between the wall and his hard chest as he unsnapped his jeans and rolled on the condom with his free hand.

Gemma dragged her lips along his sharp jawline, the short hairs rasping her lips, as he took himself in hand and entered her. She gasped, and his groan was loud in her ear as he put his hands on her hips and pulled her so she could feel him deep inside her.

Gemma grasped Tom’s shoulders and held on for dear life as he thrust into her. The angle put his shaft in contact with her needy clit, bringing her higher and higher to that peak of pleasure she was seeking.

She threw her head against the wall behind her, and his lips found the sensitive spot at the crook of her neck and shoulder. That one spot that set her ablaze every time he touched her there. Using his teeth, he nibbled, putting just enough pressure to make her cry out, enough to bring her higher as she reached in vain for the precipice, but she wasn’t quite there yet.

Tom pulled her away from the wall, turned and, without leaving her, dropped her roughly on the bed. He gripped the backs of her thighs and leveraged his weight, plunging into her again and again until she came with a loud cry as he brought her over the edge, where he joined her with just a couple more quick thrusts.

He collapsed on top of her, but then rolled over so that Gemma rested on his chest. With her ear to his heaving chest as he caught his breath, she could hear his pounding heart. His arms wrapped around her waist, holding her as she kissed her way up and down his throat.

“I love this,” she whispered and inhaled a lungful of his scent. It was the first time she’d used the L word when it came to her relationship with Tom. She felt herself tense, and Tom’s arms tightened.

His eyes found hers. “I love this, too.”

She smiled and relaxed again. His fingers tickled her low on her spine, and she shivered. He pulled the hotel duvet over them. She could stay there in bed with him all day, but it felt like they spent all their time together in New York or Miami, in bed, hiding out from their families. But in LA, they had no one to hide from. They should take advantage of that.

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