Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
He holds me in place with his gaze. His lips twitch as though he’s going to smirk, and then he stares impassively again.
“You fit the description,” he repeats. “It’s not part of your job. And you don’t have to do it.”
“They’re just test photos, right?” I murmur, my heart pounding so hard it’s starting to hurt.
I’m not sure I’ll even be able to go through with this.
We’ve only been working together for a week, and this is the only sign he’s given that he might be attracted to me or not. He might be able to entertain the idea of other people being attracted to me.
He’s viewing this through the lens of his work, nothing else.
But still. It means I’m not invisible to him.
He sees me as a woman, as sexual, in some way.
“Yeah, tests,” he says. “To get an idea for the themes and the general composition. But, like I said, you didn’t sign up for this. You’re free to say no.”
I swallow, trying to imagine myself in the studio, in my underwear, with Felix staring at me from behind the camera.
Would there be anything sexual there? Would he want me the same way I want him?
Okay, not the same way, since that would mean he’d get down on one knee and propose to me right there.
“Are you sure I’d be okay?”
He turns away, his fists clenched.
It’s like rage suddenly boils through him. But then he turns back to me, making a visible effort to calm himself down.
Lola would often talk about how preoccupied he’d become with his work. Perhaps this is an example, his anger rising from the fact he has to change his model last-minute.
Not has to, since he decided it, but maybe he feels that way.
Like his creativity is leading him in a direction he doesn’t want to go.
To me.
“Yes,” he says gruffly after a pause. “I think you’d work great. But it’s like I said, it’s up to you.”
“I’ll do it,” I cut in, blurting the words before I have a chance to overthink them.
He flinches. Something drops in my belly, dark and pained.
An idea hits me.
Maybe Lola suggested this, and he offered because she asked. He wanted me to say no.
“I don’t have to,” I say quickly. “I can get a model here within two hours. Somebody better suited to it.”
“You’re suited perfectly,” he growls, causing a shiver to move over my skin and tingle warmly.
He’s saying he thinks I’m beautiful in a real way.
He’s saying he can imagine spending the rest of his life with me.
No.
He’s saying that, for this artistic purpose, I could fulfill that role. I need to remember that.
They are two very different things.
“Okay,” I mutter. “When do you want to do it?”
His teeth are clenched. He releases them when he speaks. He must be eager to get on with this project.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“Maybe I should go to the studio and….”
Undress.
Jeez, is this really happening?
“And get myself ready?” I finish. “I can text you when I’m wearing… well, you know.”
He smirks, new light glinting into his eyes. “Your underwear. You can say it, Faye. Or are you really that shy?”
“I can’t be that shy, can I?” I say, summoning some sassiness as I stare up at him. “I’m about to do a freaking underwear shoot!”
“Yes,” he says, voice rumbling. “You are. Go on, then. Get ready. Let me know when I can come in.”
“And nobody’s going to see these photos?”
“Nobody but me,” he snarls. “I can promise you that.”
Confusion whirls through me as I stand, my legs trembling, my mouth dry.
It’s like he’s pissed at the thought of another man looking at me.
Could I be so freaking lucky?
“Okay. See you in a minute.”
I walk across the warehouse to the door at the corner which leads to the studio. I’m sure I can feel his eyes on me, and I let myself hope, dream that there’s more to this than some photos.
Should I trust him not to show anybody else?
I’m too caught up in it to stop now anyway. It’s like that pulsing deep in my core won’t let me.
It’s only when I get into the studio that I realize something. My heart starts thumping way too hard when the thought slams into me, followed by a vicious shot of guilt, slicing me up inside.
Making me feel small and like the worst kind of friend imaginable.
Lola.
I’ve agreed to this without even asking Lola if she’d be okay with it, her father photographing me half-naked.
I even fight the urge as I take my phone from my bra and scroll to Lola’s name.
My body feels sore, especially my sex, my folds rubbing hotly against my panties. The thought of Felix photographing me definitely has some parts of me oh-so ready, not nervous at all, prepared to be the person Felix needs me to be.