Page 6 of Picture Perfect

I still felt a little tense but was calming down as we entered the kitchen area. It too was beautiful but stark. It had the feel of a man who didn’t spend much time at home—too clean, too bare, too perfect.

Maybe that hearkened back to the fact that he was living a life he despised.

Much as I hated to judge, that was the feeling I got. Soon, he was filling up the carafe in the sink. “Do you like your coffee black or with cream and sugar?”

“I like it sweet.”

He nodded as he poured the water in the pot. Shortly afterward, the coffee was brewing, and Shane turned to face me. I was standing near the island next to him, wondering if I should have asked him if there was something I could do to help. My brain wasn’t functioning properly, though. I tried but couldn’t read the expression on his face as he said, “I want to do something else with my life, but I don’t know that modeling is the answer.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think I could handle it.”

I felt a small smile cross my face, relieving the pressure on my brow. “What’s to handle? You just pose when the photographer tells you to pose. Well, and you have to be a bit of an actor, I guess. And maintaining your weight is a good idea.”

“An actor? Were you acting back there?”

Suddenly, the air felt charged. There was an electrical pulse humming through the atmosphere, waiting for me to spill my words. Gravity pulled on me and grew stronger as each second ticked the clock. My answer would be important, but I wasn’t sure why. “What do you mean?”

“In Greg’s studio. Was that an act?”

I wasn’t sure what he was getting at and I was afraid of acknowledging what I thought he might mean. Saliva pooled in my mouth and I swallowed before tilting my head slightly to the side. “Was what an act?”

His brow furrowed as he got a little closer. “See, I’ve never done this kind of thing before. Is it—is it natural to feel a little something for the other person involved?”

I exhaled the breath I’d been holding in my lungs before I spoke. I thought back over the past year and all the shoots I’d had, both with Greg as a book cover model and in other situations where I had played one half of a hetero couple. “No.” I shook my head as if I’d needed to emphasize the word. I’d never felt this way about a man I’d worked with before. There was something about Shane that tripped every trigger and every nerve in my body was aroused, standing on edge with expectation. “It’s not natural.” The light in his eyes waned and I realized that he then thought it was one-sided. Impulsively, I grabbed his hand. “But I felt it, too.”

His pupils grew bigger then, signaling to me that those emotions were still there, just buried deep like I’d tried to do with mine. It had turned out to be next to impossible, though, because as long as he was next to me, my thoughts would go in places they shouldn’t. As I watched him make up his mind through the window of his eyes while anticipating the heat of his kiss, I wondered if I’d be as drawn to him later after I was no longer in his presence.

His lips pressed into mine, soft and warm and slowly at first, but our mutual desperation made it passionate in a matter of seconds. It wasn’t long at all before I felt my heart rate increase as I shoved my fingers into his hair, something I’d been dying to do all day. His hands pressing into my back pulled me close as his lips began to wander down my neck, and I dropped my head to the side, exposing all the flesh there, offering it to him for the taking. He kissed down to my collarbone as I felt his fingers wrap around the jacket I still wore—but not for long. In mere moments, as if we realized it was not only what we wanted to do but what we had to do, we removed both jackets and shirts, tossing them to the tile floor. His hand cupped one of my breasts—still inside the bra—and this time I could tell the difference. While there had been one moment during the shoot where I wondered if he’d crossed a line, I could now sense the intent of his touch. His thumb circled my areola, causing the nipple to stiffen at his touch, and I let my fingers respond, pressing my nails into the hard flesh of his back.

But I wanted to explore new territory, and I let my hands drift around front to the button of his jeans. I played with the waistband a little, letting my fingers dip underneath the denim, teasing the flesh of a spot I hadn’t yet seen, and I could feel his strong palms against my back. Except they weren’t pressing or pushing or digging—I instead felt him holding himself back, as if he were a racehorse at the gate waiting to be cut loose.

In effect, he was that horse.

That thought made me want to put him out of his misery. After all, I’d teased him just an hour or so earlier when, at the shoot, I’d been down on my knees, all but pawing at his member. Now, though, there would be no simulation. And I’d been dying to do it since Greg had suggested it in the pose.

So I unfastened the button and pulled the zipper down with aching slowness as Shane drew my lower lip into his mouth and sucked it—much in the fashion I planned to do with his cock in short order. It was then, as I pulled his jeans apart and wriggled my hand inside, that I felt the strength of his erection. Part of me then wanted to simply yank my own jeans down and ask him to fuck me right then and there, purely in desperation and need.

Instead, I followed through with my plan. I worked my hand into his underwear and ran my fingers along his lovely cock. It pressed into my hand, yearning to breathe free, needing to be loose, and so, with the help of my other hand, I fished it out of his jeans before stroking it twice. His mouth grew hard and almost immobile against mine as I took him prisoner, and he made a breathy sound that was almost inaudible against the sputtering of the coffee pot as it finished its job, but that noise told me I needed to move forward, give him the relief he needed.

I dropped to my knees and, getting my first glimpse at his big boy, I licked the head. Unlike a lot of women I knew, I didn’t mind blowjobs. In fact, I’d found them to be a great sort of foreplay. Hearing and feeling a man respond to the pleasure I gave him revved my own engine, and I could already sense my pussy clenching against itself in anticipation of what I hoped was to come. Yes, there had been a couple of men in my past who’d been worthless after ejaculating in my mouth, but most men were instead grateful and happy and willing to express their gratitude by making sure I enjoyed myself as well. And I wasn’t picky about the how—I left that up to my partner’s imagination. As long as I, too, experienced orgasm, I didn’t care how he did it.

But to the task at hand. I licked the head again before pulling it into my mouth and Shane shoved his fingers in my hair, just as Greg had had him do at the shoot, but this time he pulled my hair into a makeshift ponytail, holding it in his hand against my scalp, as his other hand palmed my head and he hung on for the ride. As I began drawing him in and letting him out, mirroring the motions he’d perform were my mouth instead my pussy, I heard him make another guttural sound before he said, “Oh, yeah, baby. Holy fuck.”

I was on the right track, apparently.

Maybe he was closer than I thought.

I increased the pressure and speed then, bobbing my head back and forth over his thickness, appreciating the feel of his veins against my tongue. When I sensed him pulling on my hair a bit, I didn’t stop until I heard the desperation in his voice. “Stop for a sec. Come here.”

I looked up, his cock still in my mouth, seeing the sincerity in his gaze. I eased him off my tongue before I asked, “Doesn’t that feel good?” Was he insane?

“Amazing, baby.” I didn’t know why, but I was liking the little nickname—hoping he wasn’t calling me baby because he’d forgotten my name.

He hadn’t, had he?

But there was no sense breaking the mood to ask. I’d find out soon enough. I cocked my head as I stood while his hands urged me up, waiting for him to continue his thought. “But I’m not ready to lose it. Not yet.” He placed his hands on my waistband then. “My turn.”

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