Hot Pickle - J.J. Knight Page 0,28

without remarking on that.

When I arrive at Camryn’s door, I stand there a moment, collecting myself.

I brought my modesty pouch. It probably will not keep things modest. But I can say I tried.

I have to remember I’m her client. Even though she dared me with a kiss, I can’t assume too much.

But if I can move this along, I will consider tonight a victory.

Because the fact is, I want to kiss Camryn Schultz again.

Thoroughly this time. No quick peck.

I just have to make sure my pecker is under wraps.

When Camryn opens the door, there’s no hint this is anything different from our last tanning session.

She wears yoga pants and a fitted top, today in electric blue.

Her hair is back in a ponytail. But those lashes. They kill me.

“Welcome, Max.” She rubs her hands together, as if she just put lotion on. “Today will go a lot like the last time. You can change behind the screens.” She bumps the door closed with her elbow.

“Thanks.”

I step behind the screen, trying to gather myself. Despite my insistence in leaving last night’s fantasy behind me, it roars back. Camryn, naked, tanning tent.

Somebody douse me in ice water.

I kick off my shoes. Beyond the screen, I can hear Camryn moving things around.

“Has it been a busy day for you?” I ask.

“Not too bad. Our lovely friend Dahlia was here earlier. She competes at your invitational Saturday, too.”

“Did she ask you to go?” I would love it if Camryn could show up at the competition.

“She insisted. But the women’s program is much later than yours. So, I still want to see you first thing that morning.”

My pulse jumps. “But you will be there?”

“Sounds like it. For an hour, anyway. How is your training going?”

I slide my jeans to the floor and stuff them in the bag. “I meet with Amy tomorrow to go over the posedown. I think I looked pretty lost last time.”

“It was cute,” she says.

She was there?

“So, you saw?” I jerk my shirt over my head and ball it up inside the bag.

“Of course. I usually go to the evening show, since all my work is done. I like to see my clients compete.”

Of course. She was there for her other clients.

“What time will you be there Saturday?” I ask.

“Around twelve-thirty. I’ll use my lunch break from the other show.”

“Would you like to have a sandwich together?” I squeeze my eyes shut behind the screen, hoping I haven’t asked for too much.

“Hmm. I might be able to fit that in. You and Dahlia are my only clients there. She won’t take the whole hour.”

Yes! I feel like a teen scoring his first real date.

“Veggie on olive bread? With hot pickles?” I peel off my socks and shove them in the bag.

“Sounds like a date. I’m sure you’ll be carbing up. Should I bring you some chocolate?”

She wants to bring something for me? I drop my boxers to the floor. Half-mast. Dammit. I give my dick a stern look as I say, “You don’t have to do that.”

“I’d like to. There’s one in particular that helps. And it’s delicious.”

“All right, then. Thank you.”

I pull out the modesty pouch and slide it over my mind-of-its-own dick. The pouch is very stretchy, but as soon as I try to pull it over my damn erection, it pops off like a slingshot.

Shit!

I snatch it from the air before it sails over the screen. What is with my body around this woman?

So, what do I do?

Any ideas?

What’s the worst thing you can come up with?

Toilet bowl water?

Oh…port o’ potty.

Nice. Good one.

I take deep breaths. For good measure, I pretend Franklin is beyond the screen, and he will immediately notice the state of my bodily functions.

This gets me.

Down he goes.

Modesty pouch, achieved.

I wrap the towel around my waist and step out from the screen. “What first?”

“Over to the stool. Let’s make sure there are no dry spots. Have you been using the moisturizer?”

I nod and sit down, the towel draped over my thighs.

Her fingers float along my shoulders, arms, and elbows. “You’re doing a good job. This looks so much better than last week. Your tan is going to absolutely glow.”

“I get them from the best,” I say.

“It will be a definite improvement over Ride ‘em Shiny.”

Something cool spreads across the back of my neck as her fingers move across my skin.

“I’m going to focus more up here today,” she says. “I’ll do a base on your face today, then we’ll skip it on the next one. I’ll