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“You seem to know all about me. What do you do?” Christian ignored the soft caresses now that Blaze’s fingers lightly flowed over his wrist and palm in a sensual ballet that was surprisingly intimate. Blaze certainly seemed to know how to keep a man slightly off-balance, because he could feel the tingles shooting up his arm and down his spine.
“I’m a model, and I’d love to pose for you,” Blaze said his eyes reflecting his name. “We could go back to your studio and make some fantastic pictures together.” Now thatsounded totally cheesy, and cut through the little touches and the intense eyes. This was not what he was looking for. Models he dealt with all day long, and he wasn’t interested in working. Pulling his hand back, Christian sipped from his glass and tried not to be too rude as he wondered why he’d bothered to come to a place like this. Because this is all you know.
Blaze leaned further over the table. “Or I could take some amazing pictures of you. Lay you out on your bed, and take pictures of you as you shiver and ache for me.” Blaze leaned still closer, his voice lowering. “You’ve taken a lot of pictures of men in that moment of supreme ecstasy, but has anyone ever taken your picture?” Blaze traced his fingers down Christian’s hand once again where it rested on the table. “I bet you’d take amazing pictures while you were being fucked to within an inch of your life.”
Christian swallowed hard, his heart racing, cock straining in his pants. Blaze made it all seem possible and he was sorely tempted. “You’re pretty sure of yourself,” Christian gasped before draining the last of his drink. If he wanted company, Blaze was certainly offering it.
“I know my strengths,” Blaze responded, and stood up, displaying for Christian just what was on offer in his tight leather pants that left nothing to the imagination, including the bulge that stretched along Blaze’s hip. Christian set down his glass and began to rise. “Tonight I’ll show you just what I can do behind the camera,” Blaze whispered into Christian’s ear, “and maybe tomorrow I can show you what I can do in front of the camera.”
Christian stiffened as Blaze sucked on his ear, but what had been sensual was now simply wet. This was all just a ploy to get into Christian’s studio and in front of his “famous” camera. “I’m feeling tired,” Christian began. “I think I’ll just catch a cab home. Thank you for the offer, but I think I’ll pass. I’m sure there are plenty of men here who would jump at what you have to offer.” Christian was already heading through the crowd, and the gap he opened up quickly closed behind him as the dancers packed the floor. Heading for the door, Christian had had enough. He should have known he wasn’t going to find what he wanted here. Instead, all he’d found was the same old thing. He knew he shouldn’t have been surprised by Blaze, because that’s what people came to a place like this for. That’s what Christian had always come here for in the past, but it wasn’t what he wanted now.
“It was my own fault,” he muttered softly to himself as he hailed a cab and gave the driver his home address. This entire evening had been a waste of time, and Christian let his thoughts run as he rode. Sure, Blaze had been hot, really hot, and maybe he could have brought him home for some play in front of and behind the camera. What would have been wrong with that? He really couldn’t come up with an answer for why he’d walked away. Christian had told himself it was because Blaze was using him. But big deal, Christian was a big boy; he could take care of himself. The more he thought about it, however, the more one face kept coming to mind, and he did his best to stop it. David worked for him, and Christian was not about to become involved with him no matter how much David fascinated him. Besides, the young man had a boyfriend, and while he was gorgeous, Christian knew he didn’t want to cross the man. The hard look in his eyes had told Christian he’d beat the crap out of him if he messed with David.
The cab arrived at his building, and Christian got out, paying the driver and then heading inside. In the apartment, he opened a bottle of wine and sat in front of his windows in one of the large chairs, watching as the lights twinkled in the night, mulling over his behavior and what he thought he wanted. As he stood up, the room swayed and spun slightly. Christian walked slowly to the bathroom, cleaning up as best he could before undressing and falling into bed, having decided nothing except that he was going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning.
* * * * “Christian,” David said softly, and he slowly cracked his eyes open. “A packet just arrived by messenger, and you have an appointment in an hour.”
He sighed softly, his head pounding, and he made some sort of sound that in his head was a perfectly clear “fuck off” but must have come out as gibberish, because he felt the side of the bed dip, and David pulled back the covers.
“I have some aspirin for you.” David held out the pills, and Christian slowly lifted his head off the pillow, taking the pills and putting them in his mouth before accepting the glass of water. David took the glass away when he was done, and Christian burrowed back under the covers. He knew he had to get up, but his head still hurt and his body felt like crap. After giving the medicine a chance to work, he slowly pushed back the covers and forced himself out of bed.
To say that Christian felt like crap was a vast understatement, but he kept his eyes cracked open enough to shave, and then stepped into the shower. The warm water helped soothe away some of the aches, and when he stepped out to dry off, Christian almost felt human. After dressing, he padded into the kitchen to the scent of fresh brewed coffee. “You’re a godsend,” Christian muttered without opening his eyes too much, since the sun was streaming through the windows and he was so not ready for that yet.
“Your appointment is in fifteen minutes, and I put the messengered package in the studio for when you’re ready to review it.” David sounded subdued, and Christian cracked his eyes open further, noticing that the wine bottle, glass, and the remains of last night’s dinner had all been cleaned up. The apartment was immaculate. For a second, Christian gazed at David trying to figure him out, but he seemed nervous, and Christian’s mind wasn’t working so well, so he let it go. Picking up his mug, he walked back to his closet, slipped on his shoes, and headed into the studio.
The lighting was subdued and Christian felt so much better. Opening his eyes he wandered to the desk and began reviewing his plan for the morning.
