Page 47 of Noah
He looked deeply offended at that. “But I thought this was supposed to be a bedroom shot. This is what my bedroom looks like.”
I was going to kill him.
“Noah Allen Michael, I want it tidy in here. Now. Be a good boy and clean up and I’ll let you have whiskey and cigarettes while we’re in the shoot.”
Instead of cleaning up like I asked, he scooted toward me, already half undressed and took me in his arms. “Good boy, now?” he asked huskily. “I thought I was supposed to be playing a bad boy.”
My body erupted in chills and I looked up at him, knowing exactly what my face was doing. He wasn’t going to be naked but I’d negotiated down to him being in his boxers, and that meant there would be a lot of Noah on display. I was twitchy as hell about it. We still hadn’t talked about the fact that we’d slept together, but he’d been touching me a lot more lately. Just casual brushes of his fingertips over my hands. His arms coming around me when I wasn’t expecting it. His eyes trailing down my body like... like...
Like they were doing right now.
Fuck, I wanted him. And he was the one thing I definitely couldn’t have.
“Noah,” I said, my voice full of warning. Or pleading. I wasn’t sure.
“Yes?” he asked, dipping his head closer. “Did you want something?”
I wanted something, alright. And I couldn’t have it. So I stepped back out of his arms and turned my back on him. “Behave yourself. I’m here on official business.”
That got him chuckling, at least, and we moved quickly to tidy up in the room before getting started. I’d brought really great lighting equipment with me but once I had him stretchedout on the bed in the natural light, I decided to shoot that way instead. There was enough sunshine coming through the blinds that I got all the light I needed, and the way it fell in beams over him gave the whole thing a gritty, undone sort of look.
Perfect for the shoot I wanted.
We started working, then, me calling out demands and adjusting his poses and him looking unfairly hot in the bed alone. I wasn’t surprised to find that he was a natural in front of the camera. He’d always been too good-looking by half, and he loved performing. When I told him a certain pose was good, or the lighting in that spot was best, he took full advantage of it, moving just enough to give me different shots without losing the light. He flexed and stretched and let me see every inch of him, and when I did glance down at his boxers, I saw that he was hard and ready to do a whole lot more than just pose.
I stopped the groan that tried to climb up my throat, told myself firmly that I wasn’t here to fuck him, and went back to snapping shots.
But the longer we went, the hotter his eyes got when they met mine through the view finder, until I felt like he was the one stripping me down and staring at my body. My mouth was dry and my pussy was aching for him, and he hadn’t even touched me.
This had been a very bad idea. Yes, I was probably saving my job. I was giving Janette what she wanted–almost–and doing it in a way that just might save both our jobs. If I gave her good pictures, she’d run the spread with them and he’d get all the publicity he could handle. The labels were bound to see it and fall in love with him–and the paycheck he was promising–so if the Authors didn’t have another contract yet, they would as soon as this story published.
Win/win.
Bonus: I wasn’t breaking any of Janette’s rules to do this. In fact, I was following every rule she’d given. I was following orders, not talking back, and definitely not messing with one of the stars.
Unless you called aching with how bad I wanted to jump him breaking a rule.
“Molly,” he said suddenly.
I snapped back into reality and realized that I’d dropped the camera to my side and was standing there staring at him. “What?” I asked, jerking the camera back up and going back to work.
“You okay?”
“Of course,” I said vaguely. Though I wasn’t taking any pictures of him now, either.
I was just staring at him through the viewfinder. I couldn’t seem to do anything other than that.
He moved before I was ready and had me against the wall in no time flat.
“Put down the camera,” he said quietly.
I tried to glare up at him. Really, I did. But my body was too busy reveling in the feel of him, hard and ready, against my belly. My legs were spreading for him and my hips rocking, and I couldn’t seem to stop them.
“Huh?” I asked vaguely.
“Put. Down. The. Camera.”
“Why?”
