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Melody followed him to another area where a pair of work tables were positioned front to front, their surfaces completely clear but for a few pieces of paper showing rough sketches or detailed plans for upcoming projects. Something was soothing about the organized clutter in this room; it felt more like a mad scientist's lair than an artist's studio.
Melody set her bag to the side and joined him at the back work table. Aside from the scattered plans, the table was neatly set up with three notebooks, various forms of ink to mark and write with, a professional camera with a long lens, and a few bottles of water. He had even gone so far as to bring some goodies from her favorite bakery.
“So what do you need me to do?”
“There’s a curtain over there and a new bikini for you to wear, did you get my text?” He tucked a marker in his pocket and adjusted the settings on the camera, taking the first set of test shots to adjust the lighting.
“Yep.” Mel held up the black strappy heels that were by far her tallest. “As requested. Don’t ask me to walk much in them or you’ll see how much of a klutz I really am.” He’d seen her dance with Sarah.
“No, there’s no walking.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the privacy screen. “I’ve read and agreed to your limits.” Wes might enjoy feeding into some of his darker urges, but he’d never cross a line that any submissive set in place.
Melody placed her heels on the table, took the clothes, and moved to change behind the curtain. “I don’t know why you’re so formal, Wes.”
“Because this is work, it’s different.” If he repeated it enough, maybe he would believe it.
“Oh.” He thought he imagined the disappointment that laced her tone.
If she was his prop and nothing more he could keep the lines of their relationship defined.
Melody stepped from behind the curtain, gathering her hair into a ponytail and Wes strangled a groan. The dark green bikini he chose accented her features. It made her hair and freckles even more striking.
Having Melody come into his workspace was going to make keeping his hands off of her nearly impossible.
Lexi’s words echoed in his ear. “Stop window shopping, old man. Make a move.”
Acting on his growing need for her would only complicate the delicate balance they had. Their relationship would change, as would the bond she had with his daughter.
Fuck, he needed to get his thoughts under control.
Shaking the images from his mind, he set his phone on the tripod and hit record. Wes adjusted the angles and motioned for Melody to step toward him.
“Okay, Melody. Can you look at me behind the camera and tell me your name and today’s date.”
“Melody Marie Conway, and it’s March eighteenth.” She crossed her arms and looked at him carefully. “They have websites for videos that start like this…”
Wes stood up straight, his frame taking up most of her space. “If there’s one thing you should know is that I don’t joke when it comes to the safety and care of those I love or my employees. This is a precaution put in place for you and me as an understanding.”
Melody held her hands up, palms out. “Okay, officer. You don’t need to arrest me. I was teasing.”
“We’ll see how that tongue holds up in the stocks.” Wes’ unfiltered reply was covered with a quick cough. “I’m not dropping you in the deep end.”
“I can swim.”
This wasn’t the first time she’d made his palm itch to make her dance on her toes. “Yeah, well this is my space and we’ll go by my rules.”
Melody’s cheeks turned red, and the blush rushed to the tips of her ears. She was endearingly adorable. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good, go put your shoes on and there's water I opened for you to chase the coffee I know you chugged on the way over.” Wes walked to the other side of the open space, grabbed the leather padded bench on either end, and brought it to the center, within view of the camera.
Wes heard her slow teetering steps against the hard floor of the room. He stepped back, making way for her. He offered his hand in support, guiding her to climb into the position he needed with her knees on the side pads.
Melody leaned on her elbows and Wes guided her wrists to cross with the unspoken understanding she wasn’t to move even unbound. “The leather is so soft,” she remarked, shifting on her knees into a better position.
“Lambskin is softer and has more give. I use different materials as I see fit.” Wes adjusted her ponytail and put her in the desired position with gentle touches. “If you’re comfortable I’ll get started. You can move, just be mindful of your overall position.”
“Okay.” Melody shifted on the spanking bench, her thighs pressed against the supports.
Wes paced around her, committing a few adjustments to memory. He ran his hands along the framework, making note of any spots that would be tight or uncomfortable for his client.
