Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 87522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
He removes my blindfold and releases my wrists.
I instinctively rub them, though I feel no chafing or pain. He took good care of me.
I look out his amazing floor-to-ceiling windows at the twinkling harbor.
This.
It’s all this.
This is how I’ll take my last photo for my contract with Susanne Cosmetics. I’ll wrap a sheet around me, leave my hair in “just-fucked” disarray, and have Braden shoot me profiled against the window.
“Will you?” I ask after I tell him my plan.
“I will. You just can’t post that you’re at my place.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” I say. “Our private life is private.”
“Don’t be surprised if the Babbler does some kind of exposé.”
“Good point. I’ll wear a robe instead of a sheet.”
“God, no, Skye. Wear the sheet. You’ll sell so much lip stain that Eugene what’s her name won’t know what hit her.”
I rise, go to the bathroom, remove the Night on the Town, and apply the Cherry Russet. I run my fingers through my hair so the disarray is an arranged mess. Perfect.
I set up the shot, find the place where the lighting is perfect, and then hand my phone to Braden. “Stand right here. I want a profile shot against the harbor. Make sure you get a good shot of my lips.”
“Wait,” he says.
“For what?”
“You’ll see.” He walks to his closet, rummages around, and returns with a black object. He hands it to me. “Wear this.”
“A mask?” It’s satin with black feathers and a large crystal jewel fanning out from one side. I’m almost afraid to touch it because it looks so delicate. I simply stare at it a few minutes.
“Trust me,” he says. “Go to the bathroom and put it on. See what you think.”
I nod and traipse into the bathroom, securing the sheet around me. I place the mask over my eyes…
And I’m transformed. My eyes pop against the blackness. But my lips? They don’t pop. No, that’s too tame a word. The russet red seems more vibrant than it is, almost as if the rest of me has faded into black and white.
Braden is right.
I adjust my mussed hair just a bit to accommodate the mask and then return to the window where Braden waits, still holding my phone.
“You look breathtaking,” he says.
“Remember, it’s the lip stain I’m selling.”
“I’ll take several,” he says. “We’ll get a good one.”
I take my place at the window.
“Smile,” he says. Then, “No, don’t. Part your lips in that sexy way.”
I chuckle and then move my mouth into my normal expression. I hope that’s what he means.
“Perfect.” He shoots several photos and regards the screen. “The second one, Skye. Use the second one.”
I take the phone from him and peruse the photos. Though I prefer the fourth, as my lips are more visible, I see Braden’s point. In the second, my gaze seems focused on nothing in particular, as if I’m contemplating the harbor. Or the night. Or the mask I’m wearing. Or the fact that I’ve just been fucked incredibly well. Or anything. The “what” doesn’t matter. What matters is the ethereal look of the photo. It perfectly captures a perfect moment.
Second one it is. I do some quick edits and post the photo.
Cherry Russet lip stain by @susannecosmetics. Perfect for all life’s moments. #sponsored
No hashtags other than the required one. Just the copy.
It says it all.
Braden walks toward me and wraps his arms around me. We look out at the beauty of the harbor, the moon shining down and casting silver sparkles on the boats below.
“I have more in store for you,” he whispers, “now that I control you in the dark. Will you follow me, Skye? Trust me to give you all kinds of pleasure?”
I smile against his shoulder. “I will.”
He kisses my forehead. “I can’t believe what I’m about to say.”
I pull away slightly and meet his gaze. He’s looking at me. Truly looking at me, and I feel, almost for the first time, that he’s actually seeing me.
“What?” I ask.
“Maybe”—his voice is low, hypnotic—“maybe we can give this relationship thing a try.”
Waves of happiness surge into me, and I can’t help myself. I say the words.
“I love you, Braden.”
Seconds pass. Seconds that seem like hours while my heart races. Until—
“I love you too, Skye.”
Chapter Fifty-Nine
An email arrives Monday from Eugenie.
Skye, those posts were fabulous, especially the last one. You looked radiant, and sales for Cherry Russet are off the charts! Plus, we’re getting orders for Night on the Town, as well. I’ve deposited the remaining five thousand dollars in your account, along with a thousand dollar bonus for the extra post about Night on the Town. I want to meet with you in person to talk about our next deal. We’re so pleased! I’ll be in touch to set up dates for you to fly to New York. Thank you so much!