Page 93 of Insatiable Park Avenue Prince

He covered the hand I had on his face and kissed my palm. “Is it weird that I’m less nervous when I’m naked?”

“By all means, strip on the catwalk. I won’t complain.”

“The designer might.” He grinned, and just like that, the teasing, self-assured man I’d fallen for was back. I hated I wasn’t going to get to watch that sexy swagger the way the rest of the lucky audience was.

Mira sprinted toward us, the designer hot on her heels, and behind her, a flurry of assistants carrying Kelly’s wardrobe.

“All right, we’re back,” she said, breathing like she’d run a marathon in her four-inch heels. She quickly made introductions, and then she gestured toward Kelly and said, “Now take off your clothes.”

THIRTY-ONE

kelly

IT WAS LIKE déjà vu, someone telling me to take my clothes off.

NowthatI knew how to do.

After I stripped down, the designer flapped about, tucking and pinning each item of clothing to mold it to my larger frame. There were three outfits total that I’d be wearing, and the other two were already pinned and in the hands of assistants to finish up.

It didn’t matter to me what the hell they put me in, but I actually really liked the champagne-colored, wide-legged trousers I currently wore. They were comfortable and didn’t need a bit of tweaking, unlike the open jacket I wore over my bare chest. It hit above the waist of the pants, and though it wasn’t anything I’d normally put on, as I looked myself over in the full-length mirror, I thought I looked a hell of a lot like an actual model.

“Okay, take this off, but keep the pants on. I’ll be right back,” the designer said, running off before I could do just that.

I shrugged out of the jacket and handed it off to their assistant, and as I was ushered into a hair and makeup chair, I took in the flurry of activity inside the tent.

Donovan had disappeared somewhere to put on his first outfit, and there were still models in the row of styling setups getting their finishing touches put on. I wasn’t even sure what time it was or how long we had until the show—hell, I didn’t even know what the catwalk looked like. I’d only seen it being pieced it together when we arrived yesterday.

Jesus, how had I ended up here? I’d come to support Donovan, to watch him get ready and then see his sexy ass strut the catwalk, and now, somehow, I’d become a part of this.

“We need to make this quick.” Marco was back, along with a different makeup artist, and they both went to work on me. Even with my eyes shut, I could feel the brush strokes across my skin and the way Marco untied my hair and slicked it back from my face, leaving the ends free. Each model was given the same look to make the collection appear more uniform. I took the opportunity while my eyes were closed to take a few solid breaths, steadying the nerves creeping in.

Ridiculous that I’d be nervous over this when the first day of shooting porn I’d given no fucks whatsoever. Maybe that was the key. I thought I’d had nothing to lose doing a sex scene, but something more high profile like this, and with Donovan attached, and the event took on more importance.

The opportunity here was different. Or maybe it was that I weighed them differently in my mind. If I fucked this up, there was no way I’d even have a remote chance of doing it again.

And with porn… Well, fucking was exactly what I was there to do. It was easy. Natural. At least, it had been for the handful of scenes I’d done so far, all of them either alone or with Donovan. Maybe it would’ve been different if he wasn’t the one who’d walked in that day. Maybe being with someone else in front of cameras and crew would’ve had me feeling nerves the way I did now.

I took in another slow, deep breath in an attempt to clear my mind, and that was when I heard Donovan’s voice filtering through the busy tent from somewhere behind me.

“You touch the hair on his face, I may have to commit murder.”

It wasn’t easy to keep my face still and not laugh at Donovan’s threat, because I knew he wasn’t joking. He liked the way my scruff felt between his thighs way too much to let it go.

When the makeup brush was lifted from my face, I opened my eyes and grinned at the sexy man who’d come to watch me in the mirror.

“Threatening lives now,” I said, arching a brow. “You do know it grows back.”

“Uh uh, don’t even think about it.”

The makeup artist smirked, stepping back to look over his handiwork. “Don’t worry, you’ll get this handsome face back in exactly the condition it arrived in.”

“Finally, someone speaking some sense.” Donovan threw his hands up as he stood off to the side watching me. How the tables had turned so quickly.

The artists didn’t waste any time getting me ready, and once they’d moved on, Donovan came to stand in front of me between my thighs.

“You know, I think this is the only time I’ve ever seen you nervous,” he said.

I rolled my eyes, and he grinned.

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