Page 27 of Daring the Bad Boy

Which, of course, was totally insane. And probably just the toe-curling orgasm he’d treated her to – make that two toe-curling orgasms – addling her brain. But if he wanted to take her picture, and mark this evening in a more permanent way, she wanted to have the guts to let him.

“If you’re not comfortable doing this, there’s no pressure,” he said, tucking a stray tendril behind her ear.

The affectionate gesture made her heart swell, until it was threatening to choke her.

For goodness sake, Rosie, don’t you dare cry. He’ll think you’re a basketcase.

His lips quirked in that wicked grin she had come to adore. “But you do kind of owe me one,” he said. “Seeing as how I got my ’nads out in front of your whole class.”

A chuckle popped out, easing the tension, as she was sure he had intended.

“Not true. You never went the Full Monty,” she said. “You had a sheet covering your ’nads the whole time. I should know – I spent two hours trying to visualize what lay under it.”

His mouth kicked up on one side, the flash of humor in his eyes as potent as his smile. “You are such a bad girl.”

His finger traced down her neck, to dip into her cleavage. She heaved a sigh, the tingles of sensation sure and swift.

“But if you’re too chicken to pose for me,” he murmured. “I can think of an entertaining way to change your mind.”

I just bet you can.

The temptation to give in to the pull of desire was almost more than she could bear, but rather than reaching for the thick ridge already stretching his boxers, she held back.

If she was going to have the guts to do this thing – to pose for him – She needed to do it now.

“Do you promise not to make me look fat?” she joked, trying to disguise the magnitude of her decision.

His brow furrowed as if he were genuinely puzzled – and suddenly the way she’d put herself down, as she had so often in the past, didn’t feel like much of a joke anymore.

“How could I make you look fat, when you’re not. The camera never lies.”

She eased out a breath, the constriction in her lungs almost painful. No more fishing for compliments. And no more selling yourself short. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“Cool.” He jumped off the bed, and hauled her up, the enthusiasm making his rugged face look almost boyish.

He let her go to tug on his jeans and pull his T-shirt over his head. “Let’s get downstairs and we can start setting up.” His tone became intense and focused, as his gaze roamed over her. “I know a couple of poses we can start with to get you comfortable, then it’ll be up to you how naked you want to get, okay? If I ask you to do anything you’re not cool with, you tell me. And once we’re done you get to decide which files I keep. Understand?”

She nodded, glad to know it would be her decision but determined not to wimp out all the same.

“You need a robe?” he asked. “Or are you good with the sheet to start? I like the sheet.”

“The sheet is fine.” She wrapped it around herself, trying not to feel too naked. Yet.

“Cool.” He grasped her hand, threading his fingers through hers, to lead her towards the staircase.

“Wait a minute.” She resisted, pointing towards the bathroom. “Shouldn’t I wash up first?”

He shook his head, his eyes doing that intense thing again, as if he were looking right into her. Nerves crawled up her chest to claw at her throat.

“I prefer you just the way you are. All that wild hair.” He touched a thumb to her cheek, making her heart pound in hard heavy thuds. His thumb slid down to press against the frantic pulse in her neck. “And that perfect skin. And the way you looked when I was deep inside you. Serene and blissful and complete. That’s what I want to capture.”

She took a deep breath, pushed it out again, her heart threatening to explode right out of her chest. Exactly how much had he seen?

Did he know how his love-making had affected her? That what they’d done had felt like so much more than sex, to her anyway? Because that would be bad.

“Okay,” she pushed the word out. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

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