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“Well, whatever you did worked because, I mean, they looked…”
“I just thought about you and me at the Driskill, you sucking on them a couple of days before. How good it felt.” She jumped in with a hushed tone, an air of shyness to her voice, not her bawdy, bold self, teasing him. This was different.
His head snapped toward her, not knowing what to say, his cock twitching in his jeans. “Glad I helped.” He sounded slightly amused.
“I’m serious,” she continued in a secretive, low tone like she was confessing something too big to say in a normal pitch. “And if you looked really closely at the bikini, just as my crotch touched the rock, it was wet…”
“Ah-huh.” His pulse quickened.
“And the look on my face…”
“Yeah, noticed that too.” His voice was soft, matching her tone, quickly glancing at her. Her eyes were shut, her head back just a little, like she was trying to remember something.
“Nobody knows this, but…”
“But?” he prompted.
“I was picturing you, remembering the boat, how you made me come so many times, and then when I tried to position myself on the rock, my lips rubbed against the hard surface…”
“God,” he growled under his breath.
“I was still sore and swollen from that day with you, so I guess I was extra sensitive. But anyway, I came…thinking about your cock inside me. I came right there on the rock. The picture they got was me trying to conceal what had just happened to my body. I don’t think they knew, but I came in front of an entirecamera crew…” Sounding embarrassed, she continued, “…The wetness was my cum…”
His head whipped toward her, then back to the road, looking up to see he was passing under a red light. “Jesus Christ,” he screamed, slamming the brakes almost in the middle of the intersection. Jerking them both back, his arms reached out to her shoulder. “Shit, sorry—you okay?”
She grabbed the seatbelt, taking a deep breath. “Yes, yes okay.”
“So sorry.” His heart was banging against his sternum, his breath racing out of control. Putting the truck in reverse, his brain was firing her words over and over—‘swollen…your cock in me…the wetness was my cum.’His grip tightened around the steering wheel as he tried not to look at her. Focusing on the light, he watched it turn to green but didn’t move…until he was jolted back with a honking horn, her hushed voice saying his name. “Jake, Jake.” Finally, he pressed on the gas with his foot, slowly driving the truck forward, a low tremble rumbling through his body.
An electric hush bounced around them for minutes. He became acutely aware of his body, taking in the way his jeans bunched around his swollen cock while unusually conscious of his pectoral muscles twitching under his sweater and the stiffness of his knuckles on the steering wheel. He pulled into a visitor parking space in the garage, slowly turning off the ignition, his eyes focusing on his white knuckles on the steering wheel.
Rakell looked at Jake, her gut tumbling within, suddenly feeling ashamed.Maybe I shouldn’t have told him that, she pondered before cautiously asking, “Was that inappropriate for me to tell you? I haven’t told anyone else. I usually tell Matt everything, but since it involved you, I knew it was too intimate to share with him…or I guess anyone. Lana would probablythink I was crazy if I shared what happened to me…” She halted, at a loss for how to explain.
“Sweets, I…” His eyes grabbed onto her face; she was pulling on her lower lip, her cheeks flushing.
“Sorry, I guess I should have taken that to the grave.” Her voice quivered, admonishing herself. “I just thought maybe you’d want to know where the expression came from, that it came from you. The photographers wanted me to mimic it again in some of the other photos on the beach, but it wasn’t possible because…”
Unsnapping his seatbelt, he scooted toward her, reaching over the console, snaking his arm around her, gently easing her head onto his shoulder. He steadied himself against the sensual-emotional strain pressing down on his chest. “Thank you for telling me.” He put his lips to her hairline.
“Did it sound too dirty?” she asked in a soft voice, barely audible, feeling so vulnerable, wishing she hadn’t told him.
“No, no, it was the most intimately sweet thing anybody has ever shared with me.” He spoke slowly, his fingers rotating on her shoulder, letting her know she was safe with him. He was thinking he wished he’d recorded it so he could listen to her dulcet quivering voice telling him the most erotic thing he’d ever heard over and over again. Wrapping her up in his arms, he squeezed as if solidifying that this was the beginning. He was trying to go slow, to do this right, but damn, she made it hard.
Her prurient confession interlaced with images of them that night at the Driskill, the raw fervor, the tender touches, the perplexed way she’d looked at him in the mirror as they ran through a conventional night of getting ready for bed. For a woman who had lived a secret life, basically a lie, she had an uncanny raw truthfulness that blindsided him, sometimes knocking all the air out of him with the sharpness of her observations. She made him squirm in the light of her keenassessment. Then this, exposing herself in such an innocent yet salacious manner…divulging inner thoughts that most people wouldn’t share with their most trusted friend. Yet she’d chosen him to reveal them to, and they were about him as if confessing to him that it was he and only he who could elicit such profound reactions from her body. Jesus, he felt like something incredibly fragile and valuable had been gifted to him. But he didn’t know if he was equipped to handle it.
Reticently, they eased their bodies from each other before he jumped out of the truck and opened her door. He could tell she was still unsure about sharing. He made sure he held her hand in the elevator up to her penthouse. She keyed in the code, opening the door, her eyes looking up to him. His mind was jumping back and forth about what to do next. What did she need from him right now? He placed his hand on the small of her back, just below her jean jacket, gently pulling her into him, nuzzling in just below her ear. “Rakell, I want to take you to bed so bad right now. I think you can tell that…”
“Mm…hmm.” A breathy mewl escaped her mouth, the erection below his zipper pressing into her. “I can…”
“But I’m trying to do this right.”It matters to me.Thenext time I bed you, it will be the beginning of something. I need to know that,he thought to himself, keeping those words locked inside.
Shutting her eyes, she tried to stave off the disappointment.How long is he going to take to decide if he wants me?“I get it. You should go.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
She ran up the stairs after her almost two-hour workout, determined to get in as much cardio as she could before she would get on a plane to Paris in a few days. Rakell could feel her energy being yanked away from her; a small apple and one egg white weren’t enough to sustain her body during the abuse she put it through. She knew that this routine of starvation and physical abuse to get ready for a photo shoot was one of the costs of the profession. One she knew she had to pay, especially because her career was finally in a position to launch.
This commercial would become part of her portfolio, a way for producers and directors to not only see pictures of her but also video, which, as her agent explained, is much more powerful. “They’ll be able to see firsthand how you interact with the camera. This is even more important than theSports Illuminatedfront cover. It’s one thing for producers and directors to look at a picture and see a pretty girl. It’s another to see that pretty girl’s facial expressions and movements on camera. Look at this as an audition for movies. Once we get the footage, I can start sending it out with your portfolio.”
