“If you need any help, I can get you a magazine or a video.”
The rise of his dark brows made her uncomfortable. Hell, everything about the man made her skin want to vibrate off her bones. “No, I don’t think I’ll need anything.”
Could her cheeks get any redder, or her panties any wetter, for that matter? “Okay.”
The soft cotton of her bra felt like sandpaper against her hard nipples. The chair was not normally uncomfortable, but under the present circumstances, the only comfortable position would be flat on her back on her bed. And that simply wasn’t an option right now.
Damn!
Crossing her legs put too much pressure on her clit, and leaving them apart made her want to spread-eagle for him.
Well, crap!
He lifted one hip, waited, and pushed the dark underwear down. Lifted the other narrow hip and tugged on that side.
Holy cow!
His big hands dragged the black material down his thighs and tossed it on the coffee table. The sexy muscles framing his waist flexed all the way down to the firm V above the dark thatch of hair surrounding the base of his cock.
The crotch of her panties went from wet to soaking in less than a second. She crossed her arms over her breasts just to feel the pressure against them. He peeked up from his slumped position. His ass was almost to the end of the sofa cushion, making him look more like a lazy jungle cat than a man. He was paler than the other performers. Most of the men hit the tanning bed now and then, but Sean was all creamy skin with a thin line of silky hair leading from his taut belly button to the naughty curls between his strong thighs.
Her core throbbed to sit on his lap, to take the long shaft, slip it between her bare pussy lips, and slide back and forth. She was shaved and liked that he wasn’t. The grooming habits of her private area really weren’t exciting news, at least not to anyone but herself. Keeping everything tidy down there made her self-play more sensitive. After this show, she was going to have to stay in bed all evening, eating up the batteries in her bedside drawer.
Ron leaned back in his chair, cool and calm. Why couldn’t she be more like him? The nerve endings in her skin popped and crackled. Sean closed his eyes, letting his hands roam the landscape of his well-worked physique. The flat planes of his nipples peaked with the erotic glide of his palms over his chest. Did he even realize how much he was torturing her?
She was amazed by how such a powerfully built man could have the touch of a butterfly. His hands skimmed down over the tight muscles lacing his abdomen. Each knuckle on his right hand was decorated with thin white scars. His hands looked huge as they wrapped around the middle of his thick cock. God, more than anything she wanted to slip the broad head past her lips, to feel the firm flesh rest on her hungry tongue. The thought surprised her, and not even her fear could pull her out of this drunken pleasure. She let her mind escape its prison to rub against the beautiful body reclined before her.
As Sean’s hand fisted the stiff length, she felt it. Her palms heated with the imagined feel of smooth skin ridged with thick veins. He was so hard the skin seemed to slip over the firm muscle beneath. She could feel it—everything. At least in her mind. It was always a fantasy. Without realizing it, Abigail parted her thighs.
The faster his fist pumped, the more firmly she pressed her arms against the sensitive nubs poking her shirt. He made no sound, and all she could think about was screaming out his name. The taste of metal tinged her mouth. She’d bitten the inside of her cheek to silence her want.
Sean’s hips rose as he rolled his head back. What was he thinking about? A hot blonde in a skimpy bikini? Two women rolling around in a huge bed together? He’d fallen into his own world, and one thing she did know for sure. She was no part of it.
The tight muscles of his stomach contracted, forcing Abigail to clench the arms of the chair. His hand rose and fell faster. “I have to…I have to come.”
That rough promise would fuel many lonely nights; this was one thing she was absolutely sure of. She’d never heard anything so erotic in all her life.
“Yes.” She couldn’t help letting the word slip between her lips.
“Fuck.” Sean pulled on the long column and rounded his fist around the broad head. One more time, he went down and back up again. Abigail was mesmerized by the sight of his big hand tugging on the thick flesh. Three more pulls and streams of white cum sprayed over his belly.
“Oh, Sean. Yes.” Had she really just said that out loud? She waited for Sean’s body to stop twitching and looked over at Ron.
Yup, I said it out loud
. The sneaky smile on Ron’s face made her want to run down to her office and hide under her desk.
Sean took several steadying breaths and opened his eyes. Looking through a sleepy gaze, he studied them both. “Was that all right?”
Abigail swallowed. Swallowed again and still couldn’t find her voice.
All right? It was the sexiest, most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.
Ron stood up and headed for the cabinet in the corner. “That was great, man, passed with flying colors.” He grabbed a terry-cloth robe from the tall stack. “Sexy as hell. You’re going to make a lot of money. Abs, what do you think?”
She couldn’t seem to unclench her fingers from the chair. “Um, yes, I agree with Ron. You did a great job.”
“Now what?” Sean asked as Ron tossed the white, fluffy bath robe next to him.
“Now,” Ron said, “you take a shower, get cleaned up, and we make your appointment with Dr. Johnston.”
Abigail watched as Sean stood up and slid his strong arms into the robe. His cock was still half hard as it rested against his balls. They’d relaxed too, she noticed. All she’d have to do would be to reach out just a little bit, and she could caress them, roll them in her hand, and slide them into her mouth. When she looked up, he was staring down at her. No smile, no sexy smirk—nothing. He looked disappointed. Like she’d cheated on the final exam and gotten caught with the cheat sheet in hand. Sweat broke out on her forehead. She clasped her hands tightly together. The familiar feelings of doubt replaced the euphoria of her momentary freedom. She decided if she was to speak, she’d only sound like a babbling idiot at this point. Then his lips tipped up into a sexy smile, making her knees want to buckle and her heart do a funny skip.
Almost knocking her chair back, she stood and went to stand next to Ron. Realizing her behavior had been completely inappropriate, she gathered what shred of dignity she had left and began to explain. “The next step would be for you to have the standard blood workup. The doctor will test for any STDs and stuff. You’ll get a physical too. The results will be sent to me and kept confidential.”
The square set of his jaw tightened. If he was tense, there would be no way he’d sign with her. “The company pays for the visit and any tests that need to be done. It’s part of your contract. If you sign, you’ll have lab work every three months and a physical every six months.” His jaw relaxed, allowing her to once again concentrate on the velvety brown of his irises. They too seemed to soften.
Thank God!
“It’s for safety reasons,” she added.
He tied the robe closed. She’d been shut out. She got it. He was Godiva, and she was Hershey. It still stung even though it was ridiculous. He was going to be her employee. Was this infatuation worth risking her life? If Justin ever found out she was sleeping with someone, he would kill them both. She just couldn’t risk anyone else’s life.
“If you’re ready, I’ll show you the bathroom,” Ron said as he started to gather Sean’s clothes. “When you’re done, we can get your W-2s filled out and get the contract signed.”
Abigail picked at the already too chipped nail polish. She watched Sean’s back as he followed Ron to the door. She took a deep breath and went to grab her mug of coffee.
“Hey.”
She looked up. There he was, standing in the doorway, looking like the lazy predator again. He knew he could have any woman he wanted, and he had focused his intense gaze on her. “Thank you.”
Abigail couldn’t stop the smile from creeping over her lips. He was so hot and cold, so naturally sexy. “You’re welcome. I mean, you did all the work. I just…I just—”
“You just gave me the opportunity. Thank you.”
His silky eyes hazed over.
So sad
. She couldn’t bear the sight and dipped her chin to avoid it. “Anytime.”
When she looked back up, he was gone.
Chapter Four
Sean sat at the little dinette table he’d bought last year at a flea market. He looked at the empty chair across from him. Two chairs and only one had ever been sat in since he’d put them outside the small galley kitchen. Ron had called him only twenty minutes ago to tell him the lab work had come back negative. He didn’t know whether to puke or jump up and down with joy. The thought of selling his body on screen made his stomach turn, but the cash would be sweet, and his life could be a lot easier. He could’ve told them the lab tests would come back fine and saved them the outrageous doctor bill. But he admired Abigail for testing her employees. At least he knew he’d be safe while he earned the money he needed.
It’d been over a week since he’d heard from either one of them. He figured maybe they’d changed their minds until he received an envelope in the mail. He couldn’t believe he actually got paid for jacking off in front of them. He thought that was just part of the interview, but by the way Abigail had looked at him, he figured she must have gotten quite a show.
Sitting in the studio on that blue sofa, he’d shut his eyes so he couldn’t see her, see that flow of soft hair over her shoulders, the way her breasts bounced up and down when she breathed. She’d fueled his need to get off. The only way he could keep from stripping her down with his eyes was to close them. He’d never let another person know they had the jump on him. No one controlled him, owned him.
Never. Again
. Not even a curvy little nympho like Abigail Swanson.
The handwritten note folded around his first paycheck said she was looking forward to having him on their team. He still hadn’t thrown it away. The floral-scented paper was sitting on top of his dresser. He didn’t know which kind of flower it smelled like, but it smelled fucking great.
He got up and headed for the bathroom. Ron said he had a shoot scheduled for today if he wanted to start now. Sean couldn’t pass it up. It was a solo. He could do it. Hell, he’d done one already. No big deal.
* * * *
Sean rechecked the address on the piece of paper and turned the truck left into a subdivision. Not just any subdivision. He’d worked with Stan on a roof in this neighborhood. It was full of doctors and lawyers. High-end homes with even higher-end price tags.
He pulled into the brick driveway at the address Ron had given him. After cutting the engine, he sat for a minute. What kind of people would live in a house like this? The vision of a small ranch house with once-white siding tainted a dingy gray popped into this head. It’d been a long time since he’d let that memory invade his space. Chills waved down his body, and the smell of old bourbon stung his nose. He could smell it—would always be able to smell it. It was the alarm, the
ding
of the bell letting him know his fucking foster dad was about to take a swing at him.
“Hey!” A hard rap on the window made him jump. It was Ron. “Are you going to sit in there all day?”
Sean grabbed his duffel bag and opened the door. “Hey, man, wasn’t sure if I had the right place.”
Ron took the bag from his shoulder and flung it over his own. “Yeah, you got it right. This is my partner’s place. Pretty nice, huh? He’s an ER doctor. Don’t worry. He’s not here, on for his twenty-four-hour shift. He lets us use his place whenever we need it. Wait till you see the bathroom. Off the hook, man. You’re going to have a great time today. Most guys really like these solo scenes.”
They reached the large portico, and Ron opened the front door. “We’ll go over what the scene is about and give you some direction, then let you go with it. Did you eat lunch?”
Sean followed Ron into a marble-floored foyer. Fresh flowers set in a large vase on a round table in the center. His nose tickled.
Abigail
. “Yeah, I grabbed a bite.”
Ron led him up a flight of stairs. “If you want something else, let me know. Abigail had your shoot catered.”
Sean nodded.
Catered? It’s just me.
They entered a huge bedroom. He didn’t know there were so many shades of white in the color wheel. Everything looked so clean bathed in bright white, off-white…well, other whites that he didn’t know what to call. It was a clean slate. He could appreciate that.
“The bathroom’s just through there. This is Carl. He’s the cameraman and for today also the director.” Carl extended his hand, and Sean took it. A firm shake.
The marine.
“And this is Tipsy—I mean Sarah. She got a little out of hand two years ago at the Christmas party, been Tipsy ever since.”
Her apologetic smile at Ron’s comment made him feel more at ease. “Hi, Sean. I’ll do your hair, makeup, and wardrobe today.”
He hadn’t realized how tense he really was until his jaw relaxed. “Hi.”
Carl removed the unlit cigar from his mouth. “Let’s get this firecracker lit.”
Ron rubbed his hands together. “All right, then. Sean, now that you’ve met everyone, Carl can run through the specifics of what the client is looking for on this one. Abigail did tell me that the shoot was specifically requesting that we show a lot of your ass. She said that wasn’t in the initial report. Okay, I’ll be in the kitchen if you guys need anything.”
“Sean, if you could just go into the bathroom and slip into this.” Tipsy handed him a terry-cloth robe like the one Ron had given him in the blue room. “We can do your hair and anything else while Carl fills you in on the details. Did you have any particular bath products of your own you’d like to use?”
Sean looked through the open double doors leading into the master bathroom. Shit, it was bigger than his studio apartment. “No, I didn’t bring anything. Whatever you’ve got is fine.”