VAIN (The VAIN Series) (3 page)

"Do you wax?" He looks past the bed to where I'm sitting in an oversized leather chair.

It's an intimate question but given the fact that I signed my body away to him yesterday, it's useless to try and play coy at this point. "I do."

"Brazilian? French?" He tips his head towards my skirt.

"Brazilian," I blush. "I like the way it feels."

His brow cocks at my response as he runs his hand over the white sheet he just placed on the king size bed. "Are your tits real?"

My arms jump across my chest in subconscious defense. "They're real," I whisper. What the hell have I gotten myself into? I'm in the bedroom of a hot-as-hell guy who is once again almost naked and nothing is going to happen other than him taking a few pictures of my body. I'm going to need to find a man to fuck after this is over.

"Take off your clothes." He doesn't shift his gaze from the camera that's now in his hands as he barks the order in my direction.

I stand and slip my feet out of my heels. "I thought we could ease into this, Noah."

"Alexa," he pauses briefly. "I've seen it all before. Let's get moving before we lose all our natural light."

I stare absentmindedly at the windows of his condo. There's nothing shuttering the light at all. "You don't have any blinds or curtains," I say it aloud even though I meant to keep the statement to myself.

"I like the city." He glances towards the ceiling to floor windows. "I like how authentic the world is without any masks."

"I thought you were just lazy," I mutter in response, half hoping that he doesn't hear me.

"Clothes off, Alexa." He pushes his jeans to the ground and his almost erect cock once again springs into full view. I've seen this man naked more in the past few days than most men I've been involved with.

"Why are you naked?" I ask before my brain can process how senseless the question is. Why do I care whether he's naked? It's a bonus. A very welcome, perfectly shaped, and super-size bonus.

"I work better without constraints." His voice lacks any emotion at all. Obviously when he's in the zone, he's firmly planted there and that's the end of that. "You're wasting my time. Get out of your clothes now."

If he was so eager to get me in the raw because he was going to fuck my brains out I'd be all over it, but the fact that he's pushing me so he can capture my nude body on a memory card is much less appealing. Why am I doing this? Is five thousand dollars really worth this?

I pull the navy sweater I'm wearing over my head as my eyes trail a path behind him. His firm, round ass is right there. I can almost reach out and grab it. I close my eyes to chase away thoughts of my nails digging into it as he's buried in my body taking me to the very edge of pleasure. I've never had a cock that size inside of me. I've never wanted a cock as much as I want his, or him. Whatever, Alexa. You're here for a job, so just do it.

I push my gaze down to my pencil skirt as I pull the side zipper down. I step out of it just as the room fills with the low sound of classical music. Great, he's a Beethoven buff who likes to work in the buff. I don't look up as I unhook the front clasp of my bra and then quickly push my white lace panties to the floor. This is it. Your mother would be so freaking proud of you right now, Alexa. She did warn you about strangers but you never listen to her.

"Fuck me, Alexa." The low growl of his voice instantly pours into me. "Christ, you're gorgeous."

I pull in a heavy breath before I look at him. His cock has sprung to full attention and I briefly wonder if I can void our agreement and just sit on his lap right here and right now. "What now?" I sound anxious. It makes sense given the fact that my heart is beating so wildly in my chest that I can't help but wonder if the people in the apartment below him can hear the rhythmic pounding of it.

"Get on the bed." He points to the middle of the bed and I settle myself there, unsure of anything else. 

"Like this?" I ask tentatively. I wish I could redo the past day. When he'd handed me the non-disclosure agreement and contract stating that I gave him free rein to take as many images as he wants, I saw it as an adventure I'd likely never get the chance to partake in again. Now, I just feel awkward and uncomfortable.

"Lay back." He moves to the side of the bed and gently guides my shoulder down. "Just relax. I'm going to take a few test shots for lighting."

I nod in agreement and push my back into the bed, before I pull my hands over my stomach. I desperately want to cover my breasts but it will do little good. My entire, nude body is on full display and he's focused intently on his camera. I hear the distinctive sound of the shutter clicking as he takes one image after another before studying the results.

"The lighting is just right." He leaps onto the bed in one swift movement. "You need to relax." He peers out from behind the camera to lock eyes with me.

That's much easier said than done. I'm sprawled out completely exposed on his bed while he towers over me with his dick bobbing madly in the air in response to every single movement he makes.

"I'm trying," I whisper through clenched teeth. If I can just stop looking at him, I'll be able to focus on the task at hand. I can't think about sex. I can't think about coming. I can't think about anything but posing for him.

"When's the last time you were fucked, Alexa?"

Well, hell. Now what?

"You can't ask me that." I spring up from the bed into a sitting position. I'm suddenly even more aware of how visible every inch of me is right now.

He teeters back on his heels trying to regain his footing on the mattress. "Whoa, calm down. It's just a question."

I reach aimlessly for any part of a sheet that I can use to cover myself. I knew this was a mistake. My inner good girl was screaming at me that I'd regret this. I'm not five minutes in and I'm wishing I could dive under the bed and hide. I don't want to talk about sex with him. I want to
have
sex with him. "You didn't say anything about personal questions." I don't actually sound as freaked out over this as I feel, do I?

"I was trying to get you to relax." He drops to his knees now and I can literally almost reach out and brush my lips against his. He looks so devastatingly alluring. Why am I not having sex with him right now?

"By asking me about my sex life?"

"Alexa." His hand grazes across my shoulder. "This is a process. I need you to relax and talking about sex helps people relax."

"What people?" I push my arm across my breasts to cover them at the very same moment I pull my knees to my chest. I'm not going for attractive right now. I'm going for coverage and this stance, albeit awkward, is working for me.

"Women." His tongue flits over his lips. "When a woman talks about the men she's slept with, her body changes."

"Changes?" I swallow hard to stave off the increasing dryness that is overtaking my mouth. I'm so parched. I feel as though I'm sitting in the middle of a desert with absolutely nothing in sight to satiate me.

He studies me with a furrowed brow as he stands to reach for a chilled bottle of water sitting atop a small table by the window. "Here." He twists the cap to open it before shoving it harshly into my hand.

I greedily take it from him and swallow half the bottle in a single gulp. My teeth finally feel as though they aren't glued to the inside of my lips. "What changes?" I repeat, not wanting to miss the answer that I'm sure will make little to no sense to me. His curiosity about my last lover has nothing to do with our photo shoot. I know I'm right about that.

"I asked the wrong question." He leans back and rests one hand on the bed. "Let's start with your most memorable lover."

I crease my forehead in confusion. "No." I shake my head. "Let's start with why you think it's necessary to talk about the men I've fucked."

I fully expect him to dodge the question yet again but he surprises me. "You'll relax if you share."

"I don't think so." I have to temper a laugh. "My sexual past isn't your business."

He leans forward again so he's close enough for me to touch. "I don't give a shit about it, Alexa. The details are irrelevant to me."

The words bite. "Why ask then?"

"You'll open up more if you share."  The corner of his lip twitches slightly. "It will help you feel less vulnerable and more in control of what we're doing. It's part of my process."

His process? Asking me intimate details about my past lovers is part of his process? That makes about as much sense as my being here in the first place.

"You're strange," I mutter as I lean back on the bed. "Let's just get this over with."

He's back on his feet again, his cock lazily hanging in my direction. "The lover you can't forget, Alexa. Tell me about him."

"That would be Nathan."

"Tilt your head to the left." He motions towards my left with his index finger as he points the camera directly at my chest.

"Why my head?" I bolt back to a sitting position. "You said no face shots."

He stalls and pulls the camera down to reveal his face. "Your chin may be visible in some shots. You don't have a problem with that, do you?" His tone is skirting on the edge of frustration.

I don't push knowing that each time I interrupt him means more time spent naked on his bed with his camera hovering over me. I fall back onto the sheet, pulling my arms lazily over my head.

"Tell me about Nathan." His index finger once again motions to the left and I shift my face to the side.

"What about him?" I ask back. Before today, Nathan was someone I hadn't thought about in months. He was a random I picked up in a club. He was gorgeous, fantastic in bed and a fleeting moment of time in my life. I know nothing about him. I never got his last name or what he did for a living.

"Was he your boyfriend?" He stares at me through the camera lens for several seconds. I know he's gauging my reaction. I know he's chasing the perfect shot.

I try to temper my chuckle. "Nathan? He's not a boyfriend?"

"What does that mean?" His voice is low and uncompromising.

"Nathan is a one night stand guy. He doesn't do relationships, just random fucks." I push my cheek into the sheet to hide the blush I feel wafting over my face. "We hooked up at a club."

"When?"

"It was a long time ago." I adjust my legs to try and hide any hint of arousal that may be rushing to the surface. "I guess about three years ago now."

"You were old enough to go to a club three years ago?" His finger slides to the right and juts into the air. "Shift your hips to the right."

I push my heels into the bed as I move my body. "I had fake ID," I confess.

"How old were you?"

"I was nineteen then," I groan. I'd felt so mature back then.

He pulls the camera down to look directly at me. "So you fucked him that one time?"

I nod as I feel the rush of arousal spread to my breasts. My nipples harden under his gaze. "He fucked me five or six times that night." I'd lost track after the first. It was the only time in my life I'd come more than once in a row.

"You compare every other man to him, don't you?" It's not meant to sound challenging, but it does. At the very least, that's how I absorb it.

"I did at first," I say as honestly as I can. "I actually kept going back to that club to try and find him again to fuck."

"Did you?"

"Did I fuck him again?" My hand twitches at the thought of Nathan's skilled body inside of mine. I want to touch myself right now thinking about it.

"Did you find him again?" His eyes fall to my legs and I know that he's wondering if I'm as aroused as I sound.

"No." The defeat in my voice is evident. "I heard he moved to New York so that was the end of that."

"You think about him when you get yourself off, don't you?" he growls. "You close your eyes when other men are fucking you and you think about his dick being inside of you."

I almost moan at the sound of the words. "Yes," I whimper under my breath as I slide my legs apart. "Yes." I'd fucked dozens of men since then in pursuit of the high I felt that night. 

"Like that, Alexa." His voice fades into the distance as I close my eyes and run my tongue over my lips thinking about the one night stand I'll never forget.

"When are you going to schedule your practicum, Lexi?" she asks, knowing full well that I haven’t liked the nickname since I was seven-years-old.

"Why do you insist on calling me that?" I bark back. I'm tired of it. I thought that after I returned from Paris, my mother would have a newfound respect for me. She was the one who told me I'd never survive a month there, and I'd lasted more than half a year.

She shakes her head as if to ward off my question. "The practicum? When are you scheduling that?"

It was an important step towards my degree in education and before I'd stumbled into Noah Foster's life it had been on the top of my priority list. Now, I was so caught up in the idea of posing nude for him, that I'd pushed my actual career to the side. That needed to change today. "I'll arrange that today." It's a definitive answer that I plan to back up with action. In fact, if I leave now I can not only avoid a dessert course with my overbearing mother, but the midday traffic that clogs up the arteries around Boston too.

"What are you doing for money?" She taps her hand on the table in the upscale restaurant she dragged me to for lunch. "I thought you'd go back to working at the bistro when you got back."

My part-time job at Star Bistro being a barista had been fun when Sadie worked there with me. Now that she was married to the man whose family owned many restaurants along the east coast, serving coffee wasn't on her radar. I assumed I'd fall back into that routine after Paris, but my modeling job with Noah had changed all that. He was paying me enough that I didn't have to work, at least for the immediate future. I knew I'd need to start considering my options in the next few weeks though.

"I might look for something in child care," I say it as much to stun my mother as to appease my need to be around children. At first glance, I'm not exactly the type of woman that you'd immediately peg as being a kid person, but I love them and since I'm not qualified to teach just yet, helping out at a daycare of after school program seems ideal.

"Seriously?" She doesn't even try and disguise her surprise.

"Seriously," I repeat back as I stand and reach over to kiss her cheek. "I've got to run, mom. I'll talk to you next week."

With that, my parent quota for the week is officially filled without her having even the slightest inkling about what me and my naked body have been up to.

***

"You're going to tie me to that bed?" I point at the bed as if I'm trying to distinguish between it and an invisible bed within the bedroom room we're standing in. This bedroom, which is down the hall from the one we were in last time, is darker, edgier and actually has window coverings. "Noah, you never said anything about bondage."

"Your contract includes bondage." He glances back at me briefly as he sets up a light next to the four poster bed. "It's scarves, Alexa. They're for show."

"For show?" I peel my jeans off before slipping out of my black panties. This is only the second time he's seen me naked but I've already learned the valuable lesson that wasting Noah Foster's precious time only makes him cranky. If I cooperate fully, I'll be out of the bindings and this room early enough that I can meet my friend Kayla at a bar downtown.

He nods without turning his attention to me. I should take offense at the fact that he doesn't flinch at the sight of my naked body, but I've gotten over that. It's all about getting down to business now and getting this gig over and done with so I can move on with my life, money in hand.

"Get on the bed." He sounds more callous than last time, if that's even possible.

"In the middle?" I push myself to the center of the bed before resting my back against the very uncomfortable mattress.

He shakes his head impatiently. "How can the bindings reach if you're way down there?" He grabs my upper arm and yanks hard on it.

I wince as I pull it free. "Fuck, Noah. That hurt."

"I'm sorry." The words are barely audible and instantly leave me wondering if they are foreign to him. He doesn't strike me as the type of man that offers amends often. "You need to move up." He pats the mattress next to me. "Move your ass up here."

I scoot my naked body up towards the heavy, wooden headboard, painfully aware that his eyes are fixed on my bouncing tits. "Here?" I tilt my head down as I ask the question, wanting to catch his gaze.

He doesn't take the hint and for the first time, I feel vulnerable under his watchful eyes.

"Noah?" I whisper his name not wanting to call too much attention to the fact that he's frozen in place. "Is this good?"

His eyes travel slowly up my body before they land squarely on my face. "You're beautiful, Alexa."

I try not to smile too broadly at the compliment even though it means more coming from him than I'd ever admit. Regardless of the fact that we have a written agreement that clearly states that we aren't going to engage in anything beyond picture taking, knowing that he finds me beautiful, stirs up something deep within me.

"You're not bad yourself," I offer back. I should tell him that he's the hottest man I've ever been naked with but that would be pushing my luck and pushing buttons that aren't going to get me what I want. He's never going to fuck me into tomorrow. It's just not going to happen.

"It really doesn't bother you, does it?" He settles onto the bed next to me, his strong, tattooed chest just inches from my touch.

"What?" I can't form a coherent response. Even though he's wearing jeans, he's still exuding more raw lust than any man I've ever met. I know that if he fucked me, Nathan would become a distant memory of my second best lay and my time in Paris would cease to exist in my mind.

"The scar." His voice cracks as the word leaves his lips. "My scar."