Page 32 of Milked

Casey sat up, leaned against the window, and stretched his long legs over mine. I inwardly rolled my eyes, but I didn’t shove him off.

His dark brown hair was freshly cropped with long wavy bangs shoved away from his face, and he had high cheekbones and thick brows. His brown eyes were nearly as dark as Father’s. Casey Barnaby was fucking gorgeous, so it was no wonder he was a model.

Neither of us set out to be a model. Most men were discovered and recruited by agents or scouts.

I’d been at a high-end coffee shop in Georgetown when I was approached last year, right after I graduated from Georgetown University. Casey had been approached while on a weekend vacation with his mom at Virginia Beach.

“I’m so excited to be photographed by Marc fucking Laurent,” he said. “Man, if this doesn’t get me some big jobs, nothing will.”

“I hope so, Case,” I said, but I wasn’t looking forward to it, even if it would help us. Model photographers were a different breed. Some were complete professionals. Others were… fucking creepy as hell, just like Marc Laurent. Too many of them. I couldn’t tell you how many times I’d been propositioned or inappropriately touched. It was the nature of the business. There was no saying ‘no’ to him if you didn’t want your career completely derailed or destroyed.

Models like Casey depended on their income to make ends meet, so they would do anything to protect their careers. So far, I’d put up with the negative aspects of the job because the pros outweighed the cons. I could afford to quit, but I didn’t want to. I enjoyed making my own money outside of family money and Knox’s income. It made me feel useful.

Casey settled back on my shoulder, folded his arms over his chest, and closed his eyes to doze for the last hour of the ride.

By lunchtime, we were rushed into the studio for the shoot, not having eaten yet. When the photographer took a look at both of us, he decided we needed a shoot together—our agent’s request be damned—after scheduling us for separate shoots.

“Come, come. Inside, quickly now,” Mr. Laurent said in his thick French accent. “I am on a tight schedule.”

I didn’t bother to mention he was saving time by shooting us together.

As we walked inside the studio, Casey leaned close to me. “Don’t blow this for me, Finn. Do everything he says, even if it’s… uncomfortable. Ineedthis photo shoot,” he whispered. His words proved he was completely aware of the photographer’s reputation. It wasn’t talked about openly, but some of the models like to talk among themselves.

His words also proved Casey and I would never be true friends. Career would always take precedence over friendship.

As Mr. Laurent double-checked his camera equipment and lighting, which had already been set up, he waved at us as we stood there.

“Come now. Clothes completely off.”

I sighed. Well, that didn’t take him long. There was no disclaimer in my contract stating I wouldn’t shoot nude images, which I did intentionally, so I wouldn’t close any doors to my career. As long as no one touched me inappropriately, I was okay with it.

It wouldn’t be my first nude shoot. Some liked to take naked pictures of us, claiming it was to get comfortable in our own skin while posing, which I highly doubted, but what did I know? I wasn’t a professional photographer.

Casey narrowed his eyes at me, daring me to contradict Mr. Laurent, but I said nothing as we stripped out of our clothes.

“Yes, professional models who do not complain! Thank god!” our photographer said. “Your agent guaranteed me complete cooperation.”

We stood in front of the camera, sitting on a tripod, waiting for his instructions as he adjusted the lens.

“Perfect. You two will be stunning together. I want sensuality. Show potential clients that you will do anything for the camera. That you are more than a smiling face.”

Our photographer stepped away from his camera and walked toward us. He grabbed me and turned my body so that three-fourths were visible to the camera. He shifted my right leg and bent it a little as I leaned my left leg behind me to keep me steady.

Mr. Laurent made more adjustments to my body, making sure to run a hand over my ass or come too close to my sac. I kept my mouth shut, mostly for Casey, but this wasn’t enough to push me over the edge to quit.

Next, he adjusted Casey to where my bent leg was between his, riding my thigh, and pressed his upper body against mine.

“Clay. You two beauties are clay.Parfait!”

He rushed behind his camera and took several shots. “Let me see your sensuality… pouty lips, yes? Gaze at each other. Show us love and sexuality.”

My brain clicked off to being naked and touching Casey, and I turned on my professionalism, focusing on the poses and facial expressions.

After an hour of photographing us nude, we were allowed a ten-minute break to get dressed and drink some water. People were on hand, selecting our clothes to model, fixing our hair, and touching up our makeup.

I was starving, not having eaten since last night, but it was all part of the job.

Mr. Laurent continued to photograph Casey and me together for another couple of hours before we did our sessions separately.

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