Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 141810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 709(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 709(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
Would Max think him weird? Hate it? Even notice?
“Okay, Josie.” Max’s voice reemerged. “This part looks great, but you see this right here? Look at Sean’s back, the arch of his spine. It’s fluid and sleek. A sensual arch.”
Ah, fuck. Sean exhaled a slow, controlled breath. He hadn’t expected to hear Max talking about his body like that. At least not in such a tantalizing timbre. Unbidden images flooded Sean’s brain of Max staring hard at his body. Right on cue, his dick stirred.
Oh, shit.
Sean shifted again, quickly swapping out the visuals.
Soggy canned spinach…
Dirty socks…
Grandma’s panties...
But Max’s sultry voice just kept on going.
“I want you to study the flow of his spine. Start from right at the base of his neck and follow it down slowly with your eyes. Down to where it dips between Sean’s bunching shoulder blades, then lower to the small of his back. See how that’s the strongest point of his arch? But don’t stop there. Keep on going to his tailbone, where it slips out of sight between his glutes.”
Oh, Jesus.
For all intents and purposes, Max was eyeing Sean’s ass crack.
Sean swallowed. Then swallowed again. Curled his toes. He could feel it. His dick thickening, thinking seriously about waking up. No, no, no. He was nearly half hard.
Road kill—Don’s Johns—Snotty noses—Barf!
“I’m telling you, Josie. Get that main curvature right and the rest will come together like a dream.”
“Okay,” Josie murmured, her voice contemplative. “Thanks for the tip.”
“You bet.”
Sean sighed in relief, heart thudding in his chest. Thank God that conversation was fucking over. Max’s footsteps resumed, and for some exasperating reason, Sean was helpless not to track every one. But what else could he do? His eyes were closed. And the classroom was otherwise quiet. Just the subtle sound of fingers working diligently with clay. Well, that and some throat clearing from somewhere straight ahead. Sean fought not to grin. At least one of the students was feeling awkward with the view. A guy? A girl?
Definitely wasn’t Max. Because Max was in a completely different location. Sean had followed his footfalls around and behind him, and knew exactly when they stopped at a table. And just like clockwork, those palpable eyes returned. Sean swore he could feel them slowly trailing down his back, then lingering on his ass. Sean clenched his butt cheeks before he realized what he was doing. Shit.
Another throat cleared softly in the room’s heavy quiet.
Ah, hell. That was Max. He’d totally seen.
“This is coming along great, AJ. Great placements. Spot on proportions. Just make sure you’re not focusing on only one part at a time. Not exclusively anyway. Pay attention to the relationship between various elements. And just as importantly, the area around them. How much empty space separates Sean’s heels? Where do those heels touch his butt? And hmm, now that I’m looking at it, I see you’ve made his glutes too big. Look. His are leaner, less round, more muscular. So on your statue, right about here, make his curves more angular. And don’t forget the dimples. Butt dimples are gold. And lucky for us, Sean has some great ones.”
Sean’s dick filled further. He couldn’t believe it. Max was critiquing his fucking ass. Leaving no question whatsoever as to what he was staring at. As to what he was analyzing intently. And not only that, but it sure as shit sounded like Max was touching Sean’s butt cheeks on that statue. Sean’s heart pounded. Was he going to do the same with Sean’s cock? Said cock jerked readily against Sean’s thigh. Goddamn it. Half hard. Soon the thing would try to lift.
Chunky milk! Athlete’s foot! Rotten fucking eggs!
Jesus. Who was he kidding? If Max were ever to critique his dick, there’d be no visual in the universe that could save him.
* *
Lips subtly smiling, Max watched Sean squirm. Not visibly, but mentally. In a way that others wouldn’t even notice. But Max, Max new inner struggle well. Knew how to spot it. Knew how to create it. It was a big part of his night job, a big part of what clients wanted. To feel utterly and absolutely conflicted. One of the reasons why pleasure and pain was such a tried and true method.
Max tamped down a growl, envisioning Sean in restraints, squirming a whole lot more than he was now. He’d be one hell of a sub. Max would enjoy him thoroughly. Then again, subs had to have an open mind. And a lot of people just didn’t. At least not where BDSM was concerned. Max had lost count of all the clients who, after just a session or two, realized that kind of thing wasn’t for them. And he hadn’t even gone hard on them. He’d still been breaking them in. But they just weren’t wired in the way one needed to be to see, truly see, and experience the beauty of what a Dom/sub experience could be like.