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“Are we running late today, Hawk?” Gerrad asked.
I nodded. “There might be a delay.”
“What time frame?”
“We’re down a model.”
Gerrad stood tall, concern written on his face. “That’s not going to work. Compositionally I need six models.”
“We’re working on getting—”
“Fuck a duck!”
We both turned to Britta who desperately fumbled with her cell, trying to catch it as it continued to slip through her fingers before finally landing face down on the tiled floor.
“Like damn buttered toast,” she continued. Britta bent down to pick it up, her fine ass revealing her perfect curves, blouse lowering just enough to offer a sneak peek of one of her finest assets. She could rival any of the models standing in front of the green screen already in lingerie. She was pure perfection. Every man’s wet dream.
“Ohh, geez...” Britta said, annoyed, “... the screen cracked!” When she turned to look at us, she froze. “What?” Her perfect brows knitted together in confusion.
My eyes roamed the length of her body before I glanced at a smiling Gerrad and then back to Britta.
Her wide eyes flicked between us as realization dawned. “Oh no... that’s... whatever you have going on in your head... that’s not going to happen. Nosiree.”
Britta couldn’t wipe the smirk off my face if she tried. I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought of it earlier.
“Yes,” I said simply, nodding my head.
“Ah uh!” She took a step back, her index finger waving in warning.
“She’d be perfect,” Gerrad stated, seeing the potential.
Britta shook her head and began backing out of the room in an effort to escape. “I have a meeting,” she said, and I knew she was lying. I started closing the space between us before her back hit the wall. Quickly stepping forward, I trapped her in with my body pressing against hers, my palms flat against the bricks.
She started breathing heavily, eyes hooded, the same as they had been on Friday night. She smelled divine, her perfume intoxicating.
“You’d be perfect,” my voice rumbled the way it does when I got lost in her.
“You... you can’t ask me to do this,” she murmured, breathless. I could see in her eyes, behind the desire, just how terrified she was.
“If I remember correctly, you owe me.” It was time to change tact.
“I owe you?”
My eyes fell to her heaving breasts, and my cock hardened.
“I’m your fake fiancé, am I not?”
“I hate you.”
I smirked.BRITTA HUGGED THE ROBE tighter around her small body.
“All models back on set,” Gerrad called.
I moved my index finger in a circle. “Time to disrobe.”
Britta’s eyes widened in horror. “You’re not staying! Don’t you have work to do?”
“Mmmm... it’s suddenly not important.”
“Bastard!”
“Britta,” Gerrad called. “We need you on set.”
She groaned, and I had to refrain from laughing. This day had improved significantly.
I watched as she carefully walked through the array of cords in her black stilettos and in front of the green screen. The other models had congregated and were already in position, so by the time she arrived, all eyes were on her.
Britta looked nervously around the room, her knuckles white as she fiercely clutched her robe.
“Remove the robe, Britta,” Gerrad requested, passing me a wink. I hid my smirk.
I saw Britta mouth a string of inaudible curses. I believed I even saw her stomp her foot.
She may not be loving this moment, but I certainly was.
Reluctantly, she opened the robe and let it slip over her shoulders before tossing it off the set.
“Fuck.” I breathed in heavily at the sight before me. Britta Valentino was a fucking goddess. I knew she’d be stunning in next to nothing. Let’s face it, she was stunning fully dressed. But like this, she was a fucking work of art, and she looked beyond incredible wearing one of my finest pieces of lingerie. It was for the kinky inclined. Those who were more daring in bed.
Her eyes flicked to the door, and it looked like she was about to make a run for it before they landed on me.
For a moment, Gerrad turned off the bright lights and fiddled with his camera some more. In that time, I was no longer in the shadows, and she could see just how much I appreciated the view. Her gaze lowered to the bulge in my pants, eyes widening in both shock and embarrassment. In usual Britta fashion, her breasts and cheeks blushed, yet she didn’t divert her attention.
This time, I didn’t hide my smirk. Nor did I hide my erection.
The lights flicked back on, returning me to the shadows. Britta seemed frozen in place, like a deer in headlights.
From the darkness, I cleared my throat, and that seemed to wake her from her indecent thoughts.
Gerrad took control and positioned the girls as previously discussed. Britta put on her most professional face, the way she usually does, and did everything asked of her. After some extra guidance from the photographer, she was an absolute natural.
