Page 11 of Picture Perfect

Slow, luxurious, tempting…I remembered the flavor of his mouth, and it made my pussy clench.

Just when it felt as though we might move into more dangerous territory—that of roaming hands and tongues—Greg said, “Great. Now we need to move to the bench.”

I’d never used the bench before. It was white and maybe a yard long, and Greg had it positioned up against a screen. Shane sat on the bench and Greg had me straddle Shane. Once more, we had to get all snuggly and touchy. Fortunately, it was pre-kissing and not the actual deed, but Greg had me put my hands on Shane’s jaw and neck and our mouths were mere millimeters from touching.

I knew we were nearing the end of the shoot, and I thought maybe we were done—with just enough time for me to save myself, because much longer and I’d be ready to spread my legs for this man again.

Unfortunately, that was exactly what Greg had in mind. We went back where we’d started, and Greg wanted my back against the wall again, but now that I was in nothing but underwear and Shane was shirtless, there was one final shot Greg wanted. He asked Shane to undo the button and zipper on his jeans enough that he could pull them down a bit—so it would look like we were engaged in sex or pretty damn close. The lights now were dimmer than usual—why, I didn’t know—but it added to the mood.

Oh, so not good.

We got into position—my ass hanging on the edge of a narrow table, Shane up close to me—while Greg barked out orders about how we needed to move because the shot wasn’t quite working from the backside where he was standing. It was a little awkward but getting a whiff of Shane’s cologne, my legs and arms wrapped around him was taking its toll.

My brain might not have wanted it, but my body remembered—and it wanted more. In that compromising, intimate position, that was all I wanted.

At last, Greg began his usual barrage of orders as he snapped one photo and then the next but then he cursed, muttering something about camera issues. “One moment. Hold your position.”

I wouldn’t let myself look up at Shane, instead focusing on his Adam’s apple. In my head, I could hear my mother’s old mantra, her voice uttering an old adage for whenever times got tough: This too shall pass.

Yes, it would, but what would I be like after passing through the fire once more?

Shane’s low voice—quiet so it was just for me—interrupted my thoughts. And it had the added effect of drawing my eyes to his. “A tad awkward.” I couldn’t help but give him an abbreviated chuckle and nodded. I was still smiling when he said, his eyes laser focused on mine, “I broke up with my girlfriend.”

There went the air from my lungs. What the hell was I supposed to say to that? Congratulations? But some words tumbled out of my mouth without much thought. “Good for you—and her. She deserves a man who wants to be with her.”

The light in his eyes faded and he grew serious. “Yeah, she does. I know you might not believe it, Ivy, but you were a symbol. A symbol of the new life I was craving, the new life I needed. Harper was part of the old. She represented everything I wanted to escape from. It was nothing against her. She’s really a sweet girl—and she does deserve someone more like her.”

What the hell was all that drivel even supposed to mean? I was still angry with him and his words felt like bullshit. But I couldn’t call him on it because Greg started snapping at us again. “All right, guys. Now, from here, I’m not believing it. You just look like two models who posed like that because I told them to. I need to believe you’re either fucking or getting ready to.”

I was pissed at Greg, too. So angry, so furious—and I couldn’t believe I was in this position again. I considered leaving right that second, weary of the way Greg talked to us constantly while in “work mode,” but I’d never breached a contract before. I didn’t know how much of a leg I’d have to stand on if I chose to walk out, especially at the very end. Honestly, Greg wasn’t asking me to do much more than he had in the past—and, to the best of my knowledge, he had no idea about what had transpired between me and Shane after the last time we’d posed together. The issues were mine.

Shane’s voice was low and sexy—and I felt another flash of ire over the fact that I found it so—when he murmured, “There’s only one way I know how to do that.”

My eyes darted upward again and Shane no doubt saw the fury in them, but it didn’t matter what he saw; it didn’t stop him from moving forward with his plan. His olive eyes were smoldering as his face got closer and he pressed his lips on mine before I could say a word. I knew what he was doing, and I also understood why. Shane had a hard time pretending in front of the camera—with me, at least—and so he decided to simulate what Greg was asking for.

I pressed my mouth closed in resistance.

Greg’s voice interjected. “A little better.”

Shane’s lower half moved closer to me and my heartbeat quickened in response. But it was when he actually ground himself into me that I actually gasped. I knew Shane was putting on a show for Greg, but I hadn’t expected dry humping.

Um, well, if he kept it up, it would be anything but dry.

But Shane took advantage of the fact that I’d opened my mouth in surprise and he planted on me a warm, luxurious kiss that made all the ice inside and around me thaw. I was still frozen, not responding as Greg had been demanding, but the man had shut up for a few moments. By the end of that damned kiss, though, I felt my fingers curling in Shane’s hair.

Holy shit. Who’d have thought?

I certainly would not have, particularly when I considered my emotions earlier, but here I was completely primed and ready to engage in full-on sex with this man.

Again.

“Ivy, that’s good with your hands, but can you move one of them to his back? Your red nails would look amazing digging into his skin.”

Only heaven knows how I managed to obey, because it was all I could do to concentrate—to remember that this was supposed to be pretend. My body couldn’t keep it together, though, as all the other parts of me responded. My nerves were on alert, my hairs standing on edge as I waited for takeoff.

I even heard a tiny mmmm in my throat.

My entire body was a traitor.

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