Page 50 of Perfect (mis)Match

“Perfect!” I said as I started snapping photos. “I’m focused on your torso, so don’t feel self-conscious. The only person who’ll know it’s you in these photos is me. Our little secret.”

We both went quiet, and I noticed that the music had switched from some upbeat pop song to Sade.

Sultry, mood-making Sade.

We both sensed the shift at the same moment. The atmosphere in the room changed, as if the music had wrapped us in something more intimate. Piper’s movements slowed, becoming more deliberate. She trailed her hand down her arm, the shimmer catching the light, and all I could think about was how those fingertips would feel trailing down my skin.

My body reacted instinctively, a surge of heat pooling in my core.

And, just like that, I was hard.

I glanced at the images on the camera, trying to remind myself why we were here, but the shots of Piper looking so damn gorgeous just riled me even more. When I looked up, she was watching me with her lips parted, hungry.

“I have an idea,” I said in a quiet voice. “Would you be willing to let me photograph your back?”

“You mean…” she plucked at her tank.

I nodded. “Only if you feel comfortable. I just think it would be beautiful, to see that expanse of skin with some shimmer on it.”

It might be crossing a line, but the idea of her bare skin glowing under the soft light was more than I could resist. I held my breath, waiting for her response.

“Yes.”

And to my utter shock and delight, Piper turned her back to me, whipped off her shirt, then unhooked her bra. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked over her shoulder at me, an accidental coquette.

Or maybe it was intentional?

I felt a tightening in my chest, a surge of something primal.

“Ready when you are,” she said in a low voice.

I had to steady myself, because the sight of her naked from the waist up, looking at me with those eyes, left me totally unbalanced.

And even harder, if that was possible.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll try a different lotion for this series.” My voice sounded strained, too tight.

I grabbed a bottle and walked to where Piper was waiting for me. The sound of the cap flipping open was like a crack of thunder.

“Ready?” I asked.

She nodded, and I let the liquid drip down the center of her back, watching as it made its slow descent along her spine. The sight of it made my throat dry. This one was a light pink, and it came alive as I massaged it across her supple skin. I pushed my fingertips against her, starting at her shoulders and working my way down her back. Every stroke felt like an indulgence.

Piper cooed and sighed as my hands worked their magic. I had to force myself to keep from letting my fingertips stray as I massaged the sides of her back. Her bare breasts were just inches away—all it would take was a quick slip, and I could cup their weight.

Let my thumb stray to her nipple, to caress and frost it with shimmer.

I stifled a groan, my body pulsing with need.

No, we had a job to do. I cleared my throat and tried to deliver a standard, run-of-the-mill massage on the most beautiful body I’d ever encountered.

But then Piper slowly turned to face me, her hands dropping to her sides, exposing her fully. I could barely breathe, every thought in my head vanishing the moment her gaze locked on mine. The hunger in her eyes matched my own.

I had to fight every instinct to keep from focusing all of my attention on her stunning breasts.

“This is torture,” she whispered, echoing my own thoughts. “Vincent, I want you.”

It was all I needed to hear.

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