Overexposed: The Complete Boxset: A Virgin Meets a Bad Boy Romance (3 page)

Zach glances down at his schedule, before lifting a hand to shade his eyes. “He’s gone off schedule, but it looks like that pile of driftwood down there.”

The entire crew follows behind me, trying their best to haul the needed equipment to the impromptu location change.

When we finally catch up to Devon, his eyes are wild, yet focused. “Sierra, no clothes for this part.”

Spurred on by the clinical directions, I quickly de-robe and slip out of the bathing suit. His camera is already at his eye, so it appears I’ll be positioning myself for this set. “Where do you want me?”

“Lean against the center of the driftwood.” I follow his directions. “Now prop your legs on the branches. No, left leg a little higher. Yes, perfect.”

My blood flashes in bursts of hot and cold. Excitement not just from the tent in his pants, but also the command he holds right now. Lost in his world of apertures and shadows and light. I can’t speak for him, but I’ve never been this inspired by a shoot.

“Arms draped over the…good, right arm a little higher.” I can hear the click of his camera. “Head titled back. Yes, hold that.” He moves with a lithe grace, the camera a mere extension of his body. “Legs a little bit wider…fucking perfection.”

A sense of empowerment slowly begins to invade my bloodstream. There’s something to be said for this level of vulnerability, cunt spread wide as if waiting for my lover to come and claim me.

“Zach, the net,” Devon barks, snapping his fingers to show his impatience. “Sierra, love, climb down and lay in the hollow of the driftwood.”

The love added to the directions, sends shivers of happiness down my spine. I’m quick to do his bidding, and when he drapes the fishing net–complete with seaweed and barnacles–over my body, I finally realize his vision. This is no longer an erotic calendar, it’s a work of art. His art...and I’m the canvas.

From there we move to a small tide pool–my hair floating in the water amongst the small sea creatures who also reside there. Shells have been carefully and strategically placed on the smooth planes of my tanned skin–a nautical mosaic of sorts.

His vision of this sea creature–a mermaid of sorts, captured on land–unashamed of her naked body, has captured the entire crew in its net of fantasy.

Our last location is the ocean itself. I’m lying in the waves–arms straight, back arched and ass peeking out of the water. They’ve wrapped and draped seaweed around my legs and lower torso. It’s an homage to the captured mermaid returning her to her home, the waves paying worship to her transforming form.

And then it’s over. The magic which has been thick in the air, quickly dissipating, bringing us back to the here and now. A fleeting brush with genius. I’d finally tasted the real Devon Goode, basked in the glow of his camera, and participated in his art.

If I was being honest with myself, and in this moment I need to be, if I could experience the satisfying pleasure of being mixed into this level of art everyday–I’d never give up this life. New York, and all of my dreams attached to that, could be damned.

T
hat night
at dinner I’m ravenous. I deserve all the treats after our amazing shoot today, so I reward myself by gorging on the newest spread of delicious seafood Denise has provided. Some kind of delectable fish that is flakey and falling apart and practically melts in my mouth. Lobster tail and crab legs, generously dipped in butter. Coconut fried shrimp and a perfectly fried crab cake. I even forgo my usual glass of wine for a local beer.

The whole crew seems to be in high spirits. Devon inspired us all today, and from the vibe of the room you can tell we’d all felt lucky to have been able to participate. Once I’ve cleaned my plate, I glance down at my phone; I’ve got another hour until my Skype session with Eric. I should go freshen up, maybe take a quick shower, but no–my entire being betrays me. Instead of doing what I should, I seeks Devon out. My feet carry me across the room and out onto the veranda, which has become Devon’s lair.

“Sierra, what a surprise.” Devon’s voice holds a hint of irritation, and I’m instantly confused.

Refusing to be intimated, I straighten my spine. “I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed and loved what you did with the shoot today. Again.”

“Come now, we’re both adults. That’s not
really
what you want to say, is it?” Devon says, taunting me.

For fucks sake, this man is irritating. Of course, today’s shoot was all about proving me wrong. I’d damaged his frail male ego, and this really was all about revenge. I take a deep breath, ready to take back some the power this infuriating man keeps sucking from me every time we’re in the same vicinity. “Fine. Since you don’t want to take my genuine compliment on your work, I’ll say the thing you expect me to say.”

Devon’s brows raise in amusement, and it’s all the prompting I need. “For something that is merely a
paycheck
, you had an awfully huge erection for it. Seems your dick is saying something completely different than your mouth.”

I cross my arms and challenge his pompous gaze with a knowing one of my own.
I’ve got the upper hand now, right?

“Sierra darling,” he began, the “darling” in no way sounding endearing. Condescension dripped in his tone. “It doesn’t have to be high art to be sexy. Women’s bodies are works of arts on their own, and seeing them naked is a turn-on, even more so when I’m the one controlling and ordering them what to do.”

My jaw falls open in indignation and astonishment. This whole day had been a power play, and while I’d thought I was winning, I was in fact losing. Playing right into his hand. A malleable idiot.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you surprised?” Devon leans forward. “God, I love the face you make when you are. Your mouth parts just a little…” he pauses, his hand darting out lightning fast as he pulls me onto the hassock in front of him. My skin burns with a mixture of shame and want as he puts my hand on his cock and it twitches beneath my palm. “I jerked off twice last night imagining your face just like that. Your lips–just like that–as I slide my cock between them...past your teeth...along your tongue.” His hand wraps around mine, rubbing it up and down his rock hard length through his shorts. “Fucking your face until you gladly and eagerly swallow every last drop of my come.”

His dick now strains against his pants, making my pussy throb with need. But I remain silent, staring him down, refusing to give him the satisfaction of this moment. A stumbling heartbeat later he grasps my chin, sweeps his tongue across my lips before standing abruptly and walking away without another word.

I
practically stumble
back to my room, trying not to focus on the fact that there was a very large part of me that wanted him to do just that. A shower, yes that’s what I need, a nice, long cold shower. I still have half an hour until my Skype call with Eric, and he deserves to see me at my best.

I’m mostly successful at not thinking about Devon and our newest exchange. But to say there aren’t moments while I’m washing myself that my fingers don’t want to stray to that tight bundle of nerves which ache for me to release from their torment would be a lie. Instead, I sit at the vanity and smooth all of my anti-aging creams and lotions. As much as I hate the idea, I know it’s to spite Devon as much as it’s to please Eric.

Suddenly the room closes in on me.  It’s stuffy and claustrophobic, so I rush around flinging open all of the windows and the French doors to my private veranda to let in the fresh, salty breeze.

Despite my best efforts, I’ve haven’t been able to cleanse Devon from my system. Instead I’m left wet and wanting and feeling oh-so-guilty. I tamp down the treacherous feelings and climb onto the bed with my computer. I’m comforted by the ring of Skype, knowing soon I’ll see Eric, and then I should be back to rights. It’s him I love. Him I want. Not Devon–Eric.

The moment I see Eric’s cheerful face I’m filled with relief. I know every wrinkle around his eyes from smiling, every mole, every slight expression, and it’s so comforting that I almost burst into tears. Unfortunately, this also works both ways.

Eric’s forehead wrinkles in concern. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

I shake my head, blinking my eyes rapidly to clear my vision. “I just miss you so much. It’s been far too long since we’ve breathed the same air.”

His face relaxes, and his warm, chocolatey brown eyes soften. “I miss you too. Our last visit was too short.”

“It really was.” I nod in agreement. “How’s your day going so far?”

“It’s fine, but it just started,” Eric grins, his perfectly straight white teeth gleaming. “Since you’re ending your day, I think the question is better directed toward you. How’s Florida?”

My insides wince at the lie, a dreadful feeling I have to combat every time I talk to Eric. “It’s not bad. I got to see the beach for a few hours, but it’s pretty humid here.”

“I’m jealous, it’s been too long since I’ve been to the beach.”

“How about I make up for your loss?” A hint of a smile lingers on my lips, as I drop the robe from my shoulders. It puddles on the bed behind me, revealing Eric’s favorite lingerie–a pale pink silk number trimmed in lace.

“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” Eric asks, his eyes darkening with lust and excitement.

“How about you make sure you won’t be interrupted and then you’ll find out,” I answer, my voice husky with the thought of finally coming. He hops up and leaves my view on the screen. When I do come with Eric, I won’t have any annoying loyalty issues nagging at me.

Eric’s eager face fills the screen again. “Everything’s locked up tight.”

“Good. Are you hard?” I purr. “Show me how you stroke your dick.”

Eric stands, freeing his cock from the confines of the dress pants. His hand glides down it’s thick length, swooping around it’s crest and back up. My body responds, the blood burning beneath my skin as every nerve in my body craves for release. “Do you have little Eric?” Eric asks me wickedly, his hand still keeping it’s slow, languid pace.

I place the computer between my open thighs and lean across the bed to the side table. Sliding out the drawer, I remove “Little Eric,” a purple vibrator Eric had bought me as a gift so a part of him would always be there to sate my demanding needs. “He’s right here.”

“Good. Now show me how you want to be fucked. Show me what it’s finally going to be like when I can sink my fucking cock into your sweet, wet pussy.”

It’s so naughty, doing this thing we’d never even considered before.
Why had we never thought to masturbate together?
The second I touch myself with the vibrator I can feel the waves of a climax starting to build. I change the position; I don’t want this to be over too quickly, especially with all of the buildup I’ve endured over the last couple of days.

The hint of an idea scratches at my hazy brain. The mere thought turns my cunt into a single, lust-swollen throb. Leaning across the bed again, my hand dips back into the drawer. “I bought a present for you,” my voice is sultry and seductive as I hold up the crystal anal plug from the previous day’s shoot.

Eric eyes are hooded and his hand moves quicker when he sees what I’m holding. “Yes, let me watch. Fuck, this is your best idea ever.”

I lay the vibrator beside me on the bed, dipping the anal plug in my slick pussy for wetness before I slowly push the plug into my tight ass. The sensitive ring pulses with pleasure, and I have a feeling that I’m going to rocket over the edge once I press against my sensitive nerve center.

But then Eric collapses into his chair, his fucking hard-on out of view–which is not part of the deal. I pick up the vibrator and try to concentrate on his movements. “Talk dirty to me,” I breathily beg, hoping it helps revamp some of the lost appeal.

“Oh yeah. Fuck baby, this feels so good,” Eric answers, his eyes not even meeting mine as he continues to stroke his cock faster under his desk. “I want to fuck you so bad. I want to put my dick in you…”

That’s all I hear before I mute him. His dirty talk seems PG and boring compared to the hot, filthy things Devon had whispered into my ear.  His skillful way with words have had me constantly aroused for the past two day. Disloyalty bleeds through me, so I raise my eyes, trying to gain back the momentum I’d lost once Eric sat and began talking. But with the mute on, and his dick hidden, all I’m seeing is Eric’s weird sex faces and it just isn’t doing anything for me.
What a fucking disappointment.

Maybe a change of scenery will help, so I lift my gaze to the open veranda door...only to spot Devon. I don’t know how long he’s been out there, watching me. What I do recognize is the predatory hunger burning in his eyes, my cunt now pulsating and practically begging for him.

My hand finds the vibrator and I begin to play. Gently caressing my folds with the tip, dipping into my entrance, running it back up to find my thrumming bud of yearning. I never break eye contact, so I’m well aware when he pulls his cock out of his pants. And fuck if it isn’t a glorious sigh–his fucking cock fisted in his hand while he remains fully clothed. To be honest, I’m slightly frightened and intimated by the long, thick, solid length of him. At the same time, I shudder with delight at the  thought of him burying himself deep, deep inside me.

Devon now strokes himself with a purpose, his hand increasing in speed as he advances far enough into the room that I can practically taste his scent upon the flat of my tongue. God, I want to touch him, to have him touch me–to do all of the lecherous things he promised to do. My chest heaves and I can’t stem the harsh moans gaining volume and momentum in my throat.

The moment my cries soak into the air and permeate his skin, Devon begins to jerk himself in earnest. Even though he’s silent and restrained, the sight of him enjoying himself fuels the heat building and gathering between my legs. For a split second, I imagine crawling on hands and knees towards him and eagerly taking him into my mouth, licking his swollen dick while he explores my aching mound.

I am so close now, back arching off the bed, the waves growing and swelling, my stomach tightening as the pleasure builds, moans morphing into small, breathy cries.

And then Devon thrusts up into his hand, come spurting and dripping onto the floor, like he just doesn’t care. The orgasm rips through me, my body quivering and bucking with the exquisite sensation of coming undone. I lay still for a moment, enjoying the rapturous ripples still flowing through me.   

Opening my eyes that I didn’t realize I'd closed, I see that Devon’s vanished. Pushing up to my elbows, I’m greeted instead by Eric’s beaming face. He says something, and I have to quickly sit up the rest of the way to unmute the computer.

“Say that again, I missed it.”

“I said that this was fun. We’ll definitely have to do this again, but maybe not while I’m in the office. I had to mute it for a moment, because you were so loud,” Eric says with a wink.

“I was loud?” I’m confused, because I thought I’d been quiet.

“Amazingly so, while you were orgasming.” Eric grins again. “Don’t get me wrong though, I’m not complaining.”

A fiery heat travels from my chest and burns across my face. “I guess it has been a while.”

“It was so hot. I finished before you, so it was fucking fun to be able to sit and watch.” Eric looks down at the Rolex on his wrist, and lets out a frustrated sigh. “I’m sorry, babe. I’ve got a meeting in fifteen minutes, and I still need to prepare.”

I shake my head and smile. “No worries. You go get them, Tiger.”

“You know it. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I say, blowing a kiss at the screen.

He catches it and sends one of his own before logging off.

The mixture of guilt and remorse and shame threaten to overwhelm me as I continue to stare at the black screen. I’m confused and torn between these two men; so vastly different, and yet I’m so drawn to both. Oh for fucks sake, why am I even trying to fool myself. I’ve seen–no, experienced– who my body really craves. And that knowledge makes me feel even shittier.