Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 92835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
"When was your first?"
"The first time I got naked on camera?"
He nods.
"It was after I saw Dana DeLaney's first set. Well, the first set we sold at the gallery. I stared at the photos for three days straight, trying to figure out how she got the light to fall on the model just so. I was at home, trying to recreate it, but it didn't work in my white shirt. So I took that off. And I felt this thrill from snapping a photo of myself topless. Then bottomless. It was… intoxicating."
"Did you fall in love then?"
"Once I posted on my site. I thought I'd feel embarrassed. Nervous. Ashamed. But I didn't."
"You didn't feel exposed?"
"I did. But in a way I liked. Like if you asked me to take off my clothes and fuck myself."
"Are you baiting me, angel?"
"No." Maybe. "Not on purpose."
He half-smiles. "I'll get you back for that."
"That sounds like a dare."
"Maybe."
I bite my lip. It's a long drive. Really long. I won't survive that much desire. I need to think of something else. Anything else.
My gaze goes to the scenery. Brick buildings bleed into the dark sky. The city shines in the rearview mirror.
We're already over the bridge, on the freeway, on the way to Adam's secluded castle.
I miss the city, but I want to be at his house.
Not just because I want to be alone in a place where I can actually touch him.
Because I want to be there, in the space he's called home for the last year, in the room he created for me.
The beautiful, soft, white space with its erotic art and its soft bed.
And the possibility of Adam fucking me.
Fuck.
I try to push thoughts of sex aside. "How did you get into Soft Cell?"
"My dad. He wouldn't admit it to friends. He knew he was supposed to love Bach, Mozart, opera. Something respectable. Not the popular music of the day."
"But he did?"
He nods. "At first, he only played it when he thought no one was listening. Then for Simon. I caught them singing in the kitchen."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Somehow, Liam picked it up. I don't know how he remembered, but he… you've met him. He always needs to be the center of attention."
I nod. "Is that why you love it?"
"Part of it." He looks to the stereo, considering the question. "The rest, I can't explain. It moves me. I don't know why. I only know it moves me."
"That's love. This feeling inside us we can't explain." I swallow hard. "At least, I imagine. I, uh, it's different. Familial love. I guess I can't explain why I'd do anything for Remy. He's my brother. My best friend. Of course, I'd move the stars for him. But I can't really say why. Not logically."
"He shares similar DNA. You're older. Socialized to feel responsible for him."
"How dreamy."
His laugh is soft. "I understand. I'd do anything for my brothers. Even now. Even though they're adults."
"Yeah." I know that feeling well. I find the bottle of water in the cup holder. Take a long sip. "You were listening to something orchestral."
"Bach." He laughs. "What my dad played when we had guests."
"You like it?"
"It envelops you."
That sounds more like Adam. "That suits you."
"You too."
"How is that?"
"It reminds me of your work. The boldness that consumes you."
"No one's ever called it bold before."
"It is."
"Thank you?" I swallow another sip, but my mouth stays dry. It's hot in here. Way too hot. I need to take off all my clothes. And climb into his lap.
Why are we driving?
Why does he live so far away?
Liam was right. This is way too far. We should stay in the apartment forever.
In his bedroom forever.
"It does consume me," he says. "Every time I look at one of your photos, I struggle to pull myself away."
"Always?"
"Always."
"Because of the composition. Or because—"
"You're naked."
"Yeah." My blush deepens.
"I don't know. I can't separate the two." His eyes flit to me. "After the accident, I had that urge, physically, but I wasn't willing to give in. I tried thinking of other women. Looking at other pictures."
"Porn?"
He nods. "And photos from exes."
My stomach churns. "You have photos of other women?"
"Fuck buddies."
"Oh."
"I can delete them."
"You would?"
"If they upset you."
My stomach settles.
"What if it upset me? That other men can see you naked?"
"Technically, you can tell me what to do for the next year. You know that."
"Yes."
"You can forbid me from posting for the next year." I press my palms into my thighs. "You wouldn't though." There's no conviction in my voice. "Would you?"
"No."
"It wouldn't be fair. Since you knew when you hired me."
"I said no. You don't have to convince me."
My shoulders settle. "You promise?"
"Yes."
"Good. You shouldn't. I mean. Thank you." I don't know what I mean. Only that I need my photos out there. I didn't realize how badly until right now. "Is it because it turns you on, knowing other men can see me?"