Page 13 of Little Bird (Advantage Play 3)

Mechanically, he grabs my shoulders and turns me at a forty-five-degree angle toward the camera. Then he walks over and looks through the peephole.

Seconds later, he presses his pointer finger against the button on the right-hand side of the camera, snapping a picture.

“Can you smile for me?”

Every instinct in my body wants me to ask why? What’s the point? But I keep my mouth shut. When my face remains blank, Frank’s eyes heat with anger, his patience almost evaporating into thin air.

“Hey, Dex?” he calls over his shoulder. His gaze is still glued to me.

“Yeah?”

“Help me out, will you?”

Dex walks over with his hands at his sides. I guess he finally tucked his phone away.

“What do you need?” he asks, disinterested.

Motioning to me, Frank tells him, “I need her to look like she isn’t a dead fish.”

“And how do you expect me to help with that?” Dex laughs darkly before inspecting me with that same look of indifference.

“Touch her,” Frank suggests.

“What?” I watch as Dex’s brows pinch together in the center, and I find my mind spinning as I try to comprehend Frank’s request too. What?

“Touch. Her. Even a look of disdain or terror is better than indifference. Maybe it’ll bring some color to her cheeks. Just…touch her. Kiss her. I don’t care. Spark some sort of emotion in her. It’s not rocket science.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Do you want me to call Sei back? She looked terrified only a few minutes ago. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind—”

“No,” Dex cuts him off, stepping over to me. “I’ll help.”

“Good.”

I don’t dare say anything to my captor because Dex and I have an audience with the ability to document our every move. I’m not sure what I would say, anyway. Cautiously, Dex takes another step closer then brushes his finger against my bare hip. My stomach muscles tighten in response, but I don’t move away.

“More!” Frank instructs as I hear the familiar sound of the camera clicking.

Dex releases a breath and skims the tips of his fingers along my lower back, following across my hip then to my stomach before softly swirling around my belly button. I quiver under his touch, looking down and watching his rough, tattooed skin touch my creamy, untouched flesh. The ying to my yang.

“This is good. Give me more.”

Frank is almost forgotten, and even though I know he’s there, it doesn’t stop Dex from casting his spell on me. My breath gets caught in my throat as he drags his finger up between my breasts then toys with the straps on my shoulders like a flirtatious lover.

I won’t admit to myself that I might like it. I can’t. But I also can’t hide my physical response to his touch, and I know Frank is eating it up.

Gaining the courage to peel my eyes away from his hand, I look up and find him close. Closer than I would’ve expected when my focus was solely on his touch. His milk-chocolate eyes are glowing with need. And lust. And heat. And overwhelming want. It almost brings me to my knees. I’ve never been looked at like this. I’ve never had the opportunity. I might be in a prison right now, but it’s not the first one I’ve ever had to survive in. To say my brother is overprotective would be a massive understatement, which is why I’ve never even bothered to get close to a man. But this? This is new. And I don’t know how to respond to it. With a gulp, I lick my lips and—

“That’s a wrap. She looks good enough to eat. And so damn innocent, it’s not even funny.” I look over at Frank to see him flipping through the shots he’d just taken on the camera.

“Thanks, Dex. I think this might need to be a new tradition. Have you come melt the panties off all our fruit while I snap a few pictures.” He pauses as a triumphant smile stretches across his face, his focus still glued to the screen of his camera. “Seriously, you and I both need a raise for how much more money we’re going to bring in for her. She looks like she wants whatever you’re willing to give her. Like she’s close to begging for it. Our clients would kill to have her look at them like that.” Pulling his attention away from the images, he looks up at Dex and adds, “You can take her back to her room now. Thanks again.”

We’re still standing close; his loafers nearly touch my bare toes. Shaking himself from his stupor, he reaches for the links of chain between my handcuffs. Once his forefinger is hooked around the cold metal, he guides me back down the hall and to my room without saying a word.

The silence is palpable when he frees my wrists a few minutes later. With a gentleness I don’t expect, he rubs his thumbs along the tender skin before remembering that I’m nothing but his prisoner.

Taking a deliberate step back, Dex mutters, “I’ll bring you a fresh shirt tomorrow, and I’ll be right outside the door to make sure no one bothers you.” Clearing his throat, he adds, “They usually get a little worked up on picture day, so I want to stay close.”

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