Body of Work (18 page)

“Only if you want me to talk dirty to you.”

The little vixen rocked her pelvis side-to-side, brushing his fingertips. “Tell me which body part to put on that big, sexy hand.”

Getting in on the dirty talk, huh? Fine by him. “Your pussy.” Christ, she had to go and lick her lips while looking at him with fuck-me eyes. All right, he’d up the ante. “Your bare pussy. Lift your skirt and take down your panties.”

“Can’t quite do that.” The purple-flowered skirt went up, up, holy-fucking-hot up. “No panties.”

“Give it to me.” Warm, soft woman descended on his splayed palm, perfectly positioned for his pinky to graze her clit. He’d be lucky to get more than one rep. “Whenever you’re ready, lift your legs and lock them as straight as you can.”

This would take strength on Cassie’s part as much as his. Her legs rose and her body stiffened above him.

“Ready.”

Weight-wise, pressing Cassie was nothing. Balancing the lopsided distribution of her weight, not having a decent grip, the distraction of holding his hot little girlfriend above his head—not so easy. But doable. He drew a breath and pushed up from his chest.

“Oh my god, you’re doing it.” She shrieked. Wiggled. Almost caused him to drop her headfirst onto the gym floor.

“Told you…no problem.” He grabbed more air as he lowered her, huffing it out as he pressed her up a second time. And then a third, just to hear her fucking adorable squeal. “Time to get off now,” he said as he brought her down the final time. He caught her arm as she reached for her purse and shook his head. “Unless you’re getting a condom from that bag, put it down.”

“What?”

Oh, the wheels were turning behind those pretty eyes now. “That’s right. I said time to get off and I meant it. Now park it on a bench, right at the end, so I can make good on my words.”

“Not here—we can’t. If we get caught, you’ll lose your job. I was stupid to let you do what you did.”

He stood, caught her hips and yanked her against the part of his body that didn’t give a rat’s ass about her good sense. “I’m going to turn off the cameras and lock the doors. When I get back over here, I want you on that bench, ready for me.”

The purse hit the floor. Two delicate, talented hands cupped him, cock and balls, through his work khakis. “How do you want me,” down went his zipper, in snuck her fingers, “face up, or ass up?”

Christ. He hadn’t even thought about the second option. He slid one hand up her back and curled it around her nape as he brought his mouth down onto hers. She opened for him, let him take control without giving up one ounce of her spirit. As it always was with her. He broke the kiss, her frustrated, turned-on moan sending another gallon of blood to his already aching cock.

“Show me that sexy ass.”

Eyes never leaving his, she slipped from his arms. She knelt at the end of the weight bench, gathered her skirt around her waist, then pressed her breasts to the vinyl. “Like this?”

Hell yes. “Don’t move. Going to lock up and wash my hands so I can touch you all over.”

“Hurry.”

Not something she had to tell him. If it wouldn’t make him look like a desperate, horny idiot, he’d sprint across the gym right now. Fuck it. Let her see that’s exactly how she affected him. He jogged around the equipment, took care of business and jetted back.

“You were quick.”

“Words no guy wants to hear.”

She giggled. Smiled. Snagged yet another piece of his soul. “And I doubt
you
ever have. I certainly have no complaints.”

“Good. I’ll try to keep it that way.” He dropped to his knees behind her. Such an incredible ass…he’d never get enough. He smoothed his hands over it before sliding two fingers between her legs. One touch to her clit elicited a soft moan that made his cock jerk. “Gym doesn’t open until 5:00 a.m. How many times do you think I can make you come in five hours?”

“More than I can take.” She arched toward his touch, hips moving in rhythm with his circling fingertips.

He used his other hand to free his cock. Stroked it for relief and got the opposite. Cassie’s fluttering eyelids and parted lips, her breathy moaning as she got closer to coming, the way her hips moved so damn temptingly…fuck.

“So fucking hot—have to put a condom on before I fuck you bare.” Something he wanted to do so badly he could almost feel it—how wet and warm she’d be around his cock, the sensation of her skin hugging his, nothing separating them. Latex sucked. Always had, always would. Necessary and smart, yes. Every time he was with Cassie, though, he resented the barrier more.

“Feel free to be quick about
that
.”

He snagged the packet from his wallet and ripped it open. Damn near dropped the condom in his hurry to get the fucking thing in place. Her obvious amusement at his fumbling might’ve been emasculating if it’d come from another woman. With Cassie, it only made him want inside her more.

He smacked her sweet ass, the crisp sound punctuating the air in the high-ceilinged room and making heat curl at the base of his cock. No more giggling from his girl, only a sigh that made his cock and heart swell simultaneously.

“Again, harder.”

No worrying anymore, only doing. Giving in to what they both craved. He brought his palm down on her other cheek, then again on each side, bringing a fresh pink glow to her fair skin. “The things I want to do to you…” He flattened his hand over her tailbone. Slid his thumb down the valley of her ass and pressed it against her tight ring. Christ, the low, needy sound she made. The way she tipped to meet him. “I’m following you home tonight, and when we get there, I’m going to lay you out on the bed and fuck you again.” He breached her with the tip of his finger. “Right here, in your pretty little ass.”

“God yes, I want that.” She wiggled to get more and he was happy to oblige—to the first knuckle. Enough to hit all her nerve endings but keep her hungry for more, later. Her hips rolled against his hand. Her lips separated and soft, sexy gasps slipped out, filling his head. When she snuck a hand between her legs, those soft sounds got a hell of a lot rawer.

A man could only take so much. He angled his cock, found her very welcoming entrance and pushed inside. “I lied. Won’t last long.”

“Me either,” she whispered.

All rhythm went to pot when she started to come. Didn’t fucking matter. Fire licked at his balls and raced up his shaft. He grabbed her hips and pounded into her. One final thrust buried him deep inside. His pulse rang in his ears as he unloaded for what could’ve been forever.

He collapsed over her back, hugging her to the bench, face buried in the hair behind her ear. “I’m not letting you go.”

“That’s going to be awkward when the gym opens.”

He knew she was playing. And he loved that about her, only this time he was serious. Call it sappy or hokey, but with Cassie everything fit. The only way he’d give that up was if she walked away. Even then, he’d chase her. He might be in control during sex, but she had the real power. He couldn’t think of one thing he wouldn’t do for her. Shave the beard he’d had since he was eighteen, give up pants for a kilt 24/7, get down on one knee with a ring… Yeah, he was done for. Tonight, when he had her soft, naked body in his arms, he’d tell her exactly what he meant about not letting go.

Brian hadn’t responded to her playful comeback. He placed a sweet kiss at the base of her neck, then lifted his giant body off hers. Was he angry she’d joked off his comment? Of course she’d known he was serious. Hence the reply. She couldn’t do serious with Brian. Wanted to—oh, with all her heart, she wanted to. But knowing how he felt about secrets, plus what he
didn’t
know about her body of work… She had to keep things casual. Keep Brian away from her business and by default, out of her heart.

She settled her skirt into place while he tucked his cock away and zipped up. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her, but he hadn’t spoken either. Not quite a fight, but not altogether right. Even when they’d been gym friends and nothing more, things had never been awkward between them. Flirty and occasionally nervous, but never uncomfortable. She wasn’t about to let it become that way now.

“I’ll help you clean and stuff so we can get out of here.” She snagged a feather duster from the caddy of supplies, put one hand on her hip and bent over to mock-dust the weight bench that—thanks to them—now required much more thorough cleaning. “Pretend I’m your maid or one of your subordinates. Put me to work, order me around a little.” A smile ticked at the corners of his mouth. Now she was getting somewhere. “The sooner we get started, the sooner we’ll be in my bedroom where you can tell me what you really want me to do.” Mischief flickered in his eyes. Much better. “So, what’ll it be, boss?”

Two steps and he stood behind her. Not touching her, yet lighting her up just the same. “You’ll do whatever I say?”

“Oh yes. I’m a very good minion.” This was how it should be between them—spirited, fun, spontaneous. Temporary. She pushed that last bit far to the back and focused on the way his eyes shone as he looked at her. As if she were the only woman in the world. Crap, maybe she shouldn’t focus on that either.

He lowered to his haunches in front of her to grab a spray bottle and rag, but the way he kept his eyes on her face, the significance such a pose
could
have—her heart dared to flutter in spite of the threats she’d made against it all day long.

“Wipe down the seats and benches?” She needed a purpose, and fast. At his nod, she snatched the cleaning supplies and put three pieces of bulky equipment between them. Not nearly enough of a buffer if she was going to resist him. Heck, three cities wouldn’t be enough, the pull was so strong. Watching his muscles bunch and flex while he wiped the mirrors ten feet in front of her didn’t help her feeble resolve.

“Tell me about your photography business.”

“What?”

His eyes caught hers in the mirror. Caught and held. “From the beginning. Was it a hobby that turned into something bigger, did you stumble into it accidentally, or was it all planned and executed on a schedule? I’m curious. Fascinated and impressed too.”

“Don’t be. Impressed, that is. I’m just a run-of-the-mill, small-time photographer. One of many taking advantage of a steady hand and halfway-decent eye. Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do. I’ve had a camera in my hand since I was a teenager and that’s all I’ve ever wanted, career-wise, to take pictures. I’m lucky I get to pay the bills that way, but nobody’s banging on my door, begging me to leave my life behind and move to Paris or New York to shoot magazine covers. I’m nothing special.”

“I’ve seen your work online and I disagree.”

Product shots, engagement photos, a mish-mash of other respectable work—those were what he’d seen. She was tempted to show him some of the boudoir pictures she’d taken, see how he reacted. None of the truly explicit stuff, and nothing that showed the identity of the subjects—she wouldn’t make that mistake again. That’s how Lance had blackmailed her, by copying her files and threatening to expose her clients. Bastard. Lance was proof that sharing sexual proclivities didn’t mean two people had the same code of ethics. The more she fell for the dreamy ginger giant staring at her in the mirror, the more she needed to remember that.

“Who put the camera in your hand, your parents?”

“Indirectly.” She wiped a couple more benches before catching sight of his raised eyebrows in the mirror. Might as well tell him, get the inevitable pitying over with. “They died when I was fifteen. Icy roads, jackknifed tractor trailer.” She shrugged, then turned her back on the mirror. Quick and simple, that’s how she preferred to share this part of her life. “I lived with my grandparents after that. On my sixteenth birthday, Nana gave me my first SLR camera, along with a set of car keys and a roadmap. She told me to go out and take pictures of life instead of holing up in my room and avoiding living. So I did.”

In the course of those few sentences, Brian had ditched cleaning and come up behind her. Big arms wrapped around her. Like a fool, she gave in to the security and sympathy of his embrace, turning in the circle of his arms.

“Your nana sounds like a strong, smart woman. Like you.”

No pity. That was a first. Cassie smiled against his warm, solid chest. “She’s pretty amazing. Seventy-nine and still kicking my butt when necessary. If I end up with half her wisdom and backbone one day, I’ll be lucky.”

“I’d like to meet her.”

“She’s not some sweet, shriveled old lady who knits and sips tea. She’s…formidable.”

Laughter rumbled in his chest and he squeezed her tighter. “Now I
have
to meet her.”

God, what was she supposed to say to that? After bailing her out of the Lance mess, Nana hadn’t suggested Cassie give up her non-mainstream business. What she had done, however, was warn Cassie not to get emotionally involved with anybody so long as she “led a life that required secrecy”. Cassie could tell herself this thing with Brian was strictly sex all she liked…Nana would take one look at them together and know Cassie was head over heels.

“On the topic of family,” he loosened his hold to lift her chin, “I dumped my Wednesday shift so I could have dinner with mine. Come with me.”

Not a good idea when she was trying to keep her heart in check. “I’m, um…”

“Booked up with appointments?”