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Layla tips her head sideways. “You really think he’s doing this for Connor? That he’s going to let me take photos of the two of you rolling around on his bed, nearly naked, for his best friend?”
“That’s what he told his parents and sister when they were all here a few minutes ago.” She finally meets my gaze with a stubborn set to her jaw.
Where did the sweet, caring woman who was commiserating with me about my sister a couple of minutes go? She’s been replaced by the hellcat that flexes her nails whenever one of her brothers smarts off something stupid.
Layla whips her head around and gawks at me in question.
I raise my hands in defense. Yeah, I get it. I said something stupid, and there’s no way to win this argument. I either blame it all on Connor and look like an ass or a loser. Or I say that I’ve thought about this moment or a version of it since their senior year and look like a fool.
“Connor would kick anyone’s ass for doing a BDSM shoot with Harbor. Except me. He knows I won’t ruin her reputation or take advantage of the situation.” Jesus. I keep digging my grave deeper and deeper.
“Ruin my reputation?” Harbor crosses her arms over her chest. “That’s cute.”
“Dude.” Layla wrinkles her nose. “Harbor isn’t a virgin. You’re not ruining anything.”
“Whatever.” I pop my neck and inhale. Deeper. Count to five. Exhale. The last thing I want to talk about is Harbor having sex with anyone. Her brother and I are in the same boat on this one, just for two very different reasons.
“Where do you want me?” Harbor asks as her eyes flash with heat. Anger, not desire.
“Let’s head to the bedroom.” Layla loops her arm through Harbor’s. “Where to?”
“Up the stairs, second door on the right.” I swipe my damp palms on my sweatpants. I’ve never done anything like this before, and I don’t think I’m prepared for what’s to come.
“Perfect.”
“Wait outside the door.” Harbor eyes me up and down. “Unless you want to watch me change?”
My skin tightens until it feels like it’s going to crack. “I’ll wait.”
She arches her eyebrows and smirks. “Afraid you can’t handle seeing me naked?”
I swallow hard over the lump in my throat. “Yes.”
Her breath hitches as she stumbles, causing Layla to bump into her. “Oh, oops. Sorry.”
“If you’d be more comfortable, the first door is the bathroom. You can change in there.”
She straightens as a look of uncertainty followed by what suspiciously looks like desire flashes across her face in the span of a second and makes my knees weak.
I’m not sure either of us is prepared for this.
Chapter Fifteen
Harbor
For five minutes, I stand in front of the bathroom door, staring at the grains of wood. Some follow a straight line, and others are thicker and branch out into a large circular pattern. Why do I know this? Because I’m too chicken to step out the door. I wouldn’t be so self-conscious if I’d thought to bring a robe, but donning Cole’s seems a bit presumptuous.
The black leather bra and panties are paired with stilettos and thigh-high stockings attached to a garter belt and…. That’s it. Well, except for the choker collar around my neck with the silver ring and matching divots.
I can’t believe Layla talked me into this. I’ve done multiple shoots for her, but none have been in bra and panties alone. I’ve worn an open button-down top, exposing a bra clasp and my cleavage. But this. This is taking things to a new level.
“Harbor?” Cole knocks on the door, and I about swallow my tongue.
“Yes?” My voice is high-pitched and strained, sounding foreign to my ears.
“Is everything okay?” He sounds concerned, as if he’s worried, I’m sick, not scared.
“I’m fine.”
