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Summer
CHAPTER 11
My heart is jack hammering.
I’m so nervous.
I’m so turned-on.
I’m so scared.
I feel like a goddess.
This man, this incredibly sexy, bad-ass, woman’s-wet-dream-in-the-flesh-specimen-of-male-perfection, wants me to be his work of art.
Yes, maybe I don’t know anything about him. Yes, he looks like a man who has lots of secrets, and some of them probably aren’t good, but he’s always shown me respect, he stood up for me when the situation arose without hesitation.
Call me crazy, but I trust him.
I don’t think he’d do anything I wouldn’t want him to.
And right now, if my leg didn’t hurt, I’d ride him like a bucking bronco until I couldn’t walk.
As I lay here in this room void of anything but white and paint and canvases and brushes, lights and tools and cameras, I can’t believe this is what he wants from me.
And I’m honored.
As I took my clothes off, I’d wondered if Snake was going to come in. Would he want to watch? Would I want him to watch? And if he did, would he sit silently, would his eyes follow every move Rock’s hands made? Would he touch himself? Would he ask if he could touch me too?
The idea of Snake watching Rock touching my naked body made me tremble as a fresh shot of desire went straight to my core. My breasts ache harder, my loins pulse and clench stronger, and my flesh sighs from the faintest contact, begging for more.
Tap, tap, tap, the light wrapping on the door makes me jump.
“I’m coming in,” Rock’s deep voice comes from the other side of the wooden panel.
OHMYGOD, it’s time!
I flinch again when he opens the door and steps inside. I watch him as he stands and stares at me from across the room, his body is tight and controlled, but his eyes are fierce. His gaze slowly travels along the length of me and I can feel it stroking me as if it’s his finger. My skin tingles and my nipples harden. His eyes shoot to mine and bore into me, I feel it all the way down to my sex. My breathing gets faster as I pull my lip between my teeth and watch his jaw clench.
“I brought you a peach,” his voice is raspy.
And full of sex.
“Thank you,” the words are practically a squeak.
He steps toward me. He looks so tall towering over me in his black everything. I clutch the sheet tighter.
I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.
“Are you thirsty? Hungry?”
My mouth is so dry, and I haven’t eaten since this morning, but there’s no way I can eat, my stomach is a nervous wreck. And I don’t want to drink anything, because I’d be back and forth to the bathroom for an hour.
“No, thank you.”
His gaze dips to my mouth. My lips suddenly feel alive.
“Alright, then are you ready to get started?” the words rub against my skin like his scruff.
