Dirty Shots (29 page)

E
ric stood, watching Anya as she finished doing dishes from the meal he’d just cooked for them. She was focused on the job at hand, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her tiny waist and the way her hips curved out beneath the dress she wore. Even doing such a mundane task, she was still unbelievably sexy.

A month had passed since the exhibition, and there was no doubt it had been a huge success.

Other than a couple of negative articles from writers who were most likely either friendly with Anya’s father, or else with Jonathan Turner, everyone embraced Eric’s new direction.

In the days that followed, numerous galleries from across the country had begged to show Eric’s new collection, and when he’d asked Anya if she minded, she’d simply kissed him and told him it was a great idea. A tour for
Intimate
had now been arranged, with Logan acting as Eric’s agent. It started in a couple of weeks, and he and Anya planned to travel with the collection.

Her father still hadn’t contacted her, and, the day after the exhibition, Anya’s mother had come to their apartment to tell Anya that she’d left him. Turned out he’d been having affairs for years, something her mother had turned a blind eye to, hoping she was mistaken or that he would stop. After he’d attempted to ban her from seeing Anya, she’d checked his email and found a number of messages from another woman. That, combined with his overbearing attitude, had been the final straw for Saara Bergman, and she’d thrown him out.

Anya, understandably, had been heartbroken. She’d cried while Eric held her, and he promised her that would never be them.

Nadine and Logan had spent the evening of the exhibition together, and stayed up drinking champagne into the early hours. According to Anya, Nadine hadn’t even slept with him—something that was apparently unusual for her—and instead had arranged a second date for the following week. They’d seen each other almost every day since, and Eric was thrilled Logan had found someone he cared about.

Unable to keep his hands off Anya, Eric walked up to her and pressed against her from behind. He reached around her body and plunged his hands into the bowl of soapy water, finding Anya’s fingers, wet and slippery with soap beneath the surface.

“Hey, you’re distracting me,” she protested, but only half-heartedly.

He nuzzled into her neck, inhaling her sweet scent. “I couldn’t help it. Seeing you like this, all domesticated, was making me hot.”

She laughed. “Me doing the dishes turns you on?”

“Everything you do turns me on, but yes, seeing you like this, here in our home, doing regular things, is definitely a turn on.”

“You’re going to have me barefoot, pregnant, and chained to the sink before I know it.”

He growled in her ear, “Don’t tempt me.”

She twisted in his arms and placed her soapy hands around the back of his neck, and kissed him. Not caring his own hands were wet, he grabbed her bottom and pulled her against him.

“You know, Anya, in all seriousness, nothing would make me happier than having you pregnant, with or without shoes. I can’t wait to be able to marry you and see you grow our child, to be able to photograph your stomach as it swells, or your breasts as they get larger and your nipples get massive.”

She laughed. “Eric, I’m only twenty-two, and you’re just obsessed with my nipples.”

“I know, and I know you still have your studies and your career ahead of you. I would never take any of that away, but as soon as you’re ready, just say the word.”

“Are you sure?” she said. “You’d really want that with me? Marriage and babies?”

“Of course. You’re not just my model and muse. You’re the woman I love. You’re my everything, and I can’t see a future where you’re not in it.” He lowered his head and pressed his forehead to hers. “When I was sick, right before the exhibition, I had a glimpse of that possibility. For this one, horrifying moment, I tried to see a future where you weren’t in my life, and all I could see was a blank. I need you, Anya, more than you’ve ever needed me, and I’m sorry if that sounds sad and pathetic, but it’s the truth.”

She brushed his nose with hers, their lips skirting each other. “Eric, you’re everything to me, too. I don’t want a future without you in it either.”

“But what about the bipolar?” he asked, not wanting to talk about it, but feeling he had to. “If I’m in your life, that will be, too. I hate that I’m making you live with my illness when you could be free. It worries me that I’ll get ill again and your opinion of me will change.”

She smiled up at him, looking him in the eye. “Eric, you’re the bravest person I know. I can’t imagine what it’s like to wake up every day and have to battle with my own head. And the fact you’ve achieved so much while going through your own personal war is nothing short of amazing.”

He kissed her again. “No, you’re amazing. I’m so lucky and thankful to have you in my life.”

She smiled again, only this time she had a wicked glint in her blue eyes. She pressed herself closer, her hips grinding into his body, causing his already semi-erect cock to lengthen and harden. “So, show me how thankful you are.”

His hands slipped up beneath her skirt, cupping her bottom. “You, Miss Rhinne, are a very naughty girl.”

She hid a smile. “And don’t you just love it.”

He ran his hands over her bottom and then slipped one hand beneath the material of her underwear. He traced his finger down the crease of her bottom, past the pucker of her ass, making her inhale a breath, and then on to the wet folds of her pussy. He slipped a finger inside her, causing her to squirm as their mouths locked.

“Oh, Eric,” she murmured, and he grew even harder for her, wanting to tear off their clothes and force himself inside her.

But he had another idea.

Removing his hand from her underwear, he stepped away.

“Hey,” she said in protest.

“Wait one minute.”

Eric pulled his t-shirt over his head and then shucked out of his pants, and finally his shorts, leaving him completely naked.

Anya pressed her lips together, her eyes locked on him.

But instead of turning to her, he went to his desk and picked up his camera. He handed the camera to her with a smile, gesturing down at his naked body with a suggestive lift of his eyebrows.

“Now it’s your turn.”

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T
HE END

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ike what you’ve read? So you never miss out, make sure you sign up to Marissa Farrar’s new release list to stay updated about new releases, exclusives, and special offers! 
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T
his book was originally written as a serial and published in my erotica pen name M.K. Elliott. Over the past few years, my Marissa Farrar work has become increasingly steamier, to the point where I realised Marissa and M.K. weren’t so different after all! I decided that I would start to move some of my more recent M.K. work over to Marissa’s books, starting with ‘Survivor’ which was originally written as M.K. The second book has been this one, which started out as ‘Model Wanted’, and finished as ‘Dirty Shots.’

So I just wanted to say a big thank you to all of the early readers of Model Wanted, who kept asking for more, and gave me lots of encouragement to finish the serial as a novel, which I’ve done. Thank you to all of you—you gave me that extra bit of courage when I needed it the most. I hope my regular readers have enjoyed the extra bit of sexiness in this book as well!

As always, I have my little team to thank—my editor Lori Whitwam, and my two proofreaders on this book, Karey McComish and Linda Helm. I’d also like to thank my earlier editor on this book, from when it was ‘Model Wanted’ Shontrell Wade, as she also helped to shape this book in the early days. 

I’d like to thank the cover designer Yoly, at Cormar Covers. Thank you for your patience—I know I can be picky, but I think we got a gorgeous cover out of it in the end. Can’t wait to see it in print!

And a final massive thank you to you, the reader, for continuing to buy my books and supporting me. I have the best job in the world!

Thanks for reading!

Marissa. XXX

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M
arissa Farrar is a multi-published romance, fantasy, and horror author. She was born in Devon, England, has travelled all over the world, and has lived in both Australia and Spain. She now resides in the countryside with her husband, three young children, a crazy Spanish dog, and two rescue cats. Despite returning to England, she daydreams of one day being able to split her time between her home country and the balmy, white sandy beaches of Spain.

Even though she’s been writing stories since she was small and held dreams of being a writer, her initial life plan went a different way.

In her youth, inspired by James Herriot, she decided to become a vet, and would regularly bring home new pets to her weary parents. Upon discovering her exams were never going to get her into a veterinary degree, she ended up studying Zoology. Once she completed her degree and realised she’d spent the majority trying to find time to write, she decided to follow her dream of being an author. Seven years later, she was published and two years after that she was able to say goodbye to the day job.

However, she’s continued to collect animals!

Marissa is the author of over twenty novels, including the dark vampire ‘Serenity’ series. Her short stories have been accepted for a number of anthologies including,
Their Dark Masters,
Red Skies Press,
Masters of Horror: Damned If You Don’t,
Triskaideka Books; and
2013: The Aftermath,
Pill Hill Press.

If you want to know more about Marissa, then please visit her website at
www.marissa-farrar.blogspot.com
. You can also find her at her facebook page,
www.facebook.com/marissa.farrar.author
or follow her on twitter @marissafarrar.

She loves to hear from readers and can be emailed at
[email protected]
.

DIRTY SHOTS

Copyright © 2016 Marissa Farrar

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Warwick House Press

Edited by Lori Whitwam

Cover art by Cormar Covers

L
icense Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

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P
ublisher’s Note

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Did you love
Dirty Shots
? Then you should read
Defaced (A Dark Romance Novel)
by Marissa Farrar!

Monster

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Lily

Traumatised by an event in her past, Lily Drayton has a phobia of being touched. Though she helps people externally with her skills as a laser therapist, she refuses to let anyone in, emotionally or physically. When Lily is kidnapped on the way home from work one evening, she discovers she’s not the only person who keeps themselves cut off from the rest of the world.

Defaced

A man owns her now—a man both dangerous and enigmatic. Drawn by his dual beauty and hidden pain, he awakens something inside her, something she believed was long dead. Brought to a room without windows, she’s given an impossible task: to make her owner acceptable to the outside world.

Can altering his face change who he is as a man, or is he truly a monster, both inside and out?