“No. She just watched a lot of episodes of CSI.”
“Okay, I am getting the whole picture now. Meat, Sheppy’s and Crime & Investigation Network. A nice eclectic mix you’ve got going for you…among other things,” he said the last part very softly, the suggestion in the words hitting me directly between my legs. “So where do I collect you tomorrow after your photo shoot?”
“It’s a studio shoot, so the Lorenzo Agency, tenth floor of the Shires Building.”
“I’ll find you, Brynne. Send me a text when you’re finished and I’ll be there. Goodnight.” His voice changed, sounding more abrupt.
I heard a click and then the dial tone, realizing that Ethan had ended the call this time. Payback for earlier? Maybe. But as I got into my bed and rehashed our conversation in the dark, I became conscious of the fact he’d gotten his way again. I had a date with Ethan tomorrow night, and I’d never really agreed to go.
I sent the text to Ethan as Marco looked through the images. I’d worked with Marco one other time and I liked him a lot. Based in Milan, he liked classic poses reminiscent of the thirties and forties.
“You are magnificent in these, bella,” Marco told me with that beautiful Italian purr, “the camera is your friend.”
“It was nice. Thank you, Marco.”
I still had to get ready and headed for the dressing room. I tried not to fuss over my appearance but Ethan was so damned handsome. I was just…me. I knew I had a decent figure. I kept it that way, and my body was my livelihood at the moment so I took care of myself. And I’d had plenty of attention from boys growing up. Too much attention. But I wasn’t beautiful. I had long, straight, light brown hair, nothing special. My eyes were probably the most unique thing about me. The color was odd—sort of a mixture of brown, grey, blue and green. I’d never known what to put on my driver’s license back home. I went with…brown.
I opened my bag and slipped off my robe. Being it was nearly summer, and I assumed tonight would be casual at the end of a work day, I’d chosen clothes that would be forgiving of the time spent in a sports duffle—flax linen drawstring pants, a black, silky sleeveless top, and black leather flats. I slung my favorite green cardigan over my shoulders and gave some attention to the rest of me. I brushed my hair out and went with a pony tail wrapped with a strand of hair around the elastic. Next, makeup, and it wouldn’t take long. I rarely use much more than mascara and blush. Some lip gloss and a spray of my perfume finished me. Good to go, Brynne.
I pushed the call button at the elevators and waited. Ethan didn’t say where to meet exactly and I figured the lobby would be fine. He seemed to know the city like the back of his hand.
Marco walked up and gave me a hug in farewell. He was a demonstrative guy, always hugging and kissing twice on the cheek in that Euro way that made it acceptable for him—and made the American me a sucker for it. I can admit to being fully charmed by the kind of courtly behavior rarely displayed in my native land.
I hugged him back and offered my cheek. Marco pressed his lips to my jaw right as the elevator doors opened and Ethan stepped out glaring, his beautiful face set in a hard line.
I stumbled back from Marco’s embrace and felt Ethan’s hands catch me, latching onto my waist. “Brynne, darling, here you are.” Ethan drew his arms up from my waist to wrap loosely around my shoulders, effectively pulling me away from Marco and right up against the front of his body. His very hard and muscled body. I could feel Ethan’s stare on Marco and knew I needed to do something before the situation got more awkward than it already was. “Introduce us, Brynne,” he said against my ear, the brush of his goatee pricking my jaw and making my knees weak.
“Ethan Blackstone, Marco Carvaletti, my—my photographer today.” Shit! Did I really sound that fluttery and weak? I swear I was in deep trouble with this man. He got to me in a way I found so unnerving yet arousing at the same time; a tantalizing mixture screaming Danger! in my head.
Ethan held out his hand and offered a greeting to the tall Italian with the bemused expression at our situation. “How did my girl do today, Mr. Carvaletti?” Ethan drawled in his elegant voice.
Marco gave just the hint of a smile. “Brynne does her job to perfection, Mr. Blackstone. Always.” The elevator dinged again and Marco stuck his arm out to hold it. “Are you going down?” Marco asked, stepping inside.
“Eventually. Not just yet,” Ethan answered, settling a hand on both of my upper arms and holding me firm. We faced the elevator doors about to close. Eventually? I did not miss the suggestion in that comment. The image of his beautiful black hair moving slowly on his bobbing head between my legs was more than my libido could bear at the moment.
“Bye, Marco, thank you for the booking!” I managed to sputter, lifting a hand in a wave.
“Thank you, bella, the pictures are gorgeous as usual.” Marco kissed two fingers and blew them at me as the elevator doors closed on him, leaving me securely in Ethan’s grip and totally alone with the man who had an erection pressed against my ass and the promise of knowing exactly how to use it.
“What are you doing!” I spat, spinning out of his hands. “What’s with the my girl and the territorial behavior, Ethan?” I turned to his beautiful face very aware that I was breathing heavy and with every inhale drawing more of his delicious scent inside me.
He came at me, backing me up against the wall in the corridor. His big body looming as he very deliberately lowered his mouth onto mine. Ethan’s lips were soft in contrast to his goatee, and his tongue, like velvet, met mine in an instant; stroking over every part of my mouth, tangling with my tongue, sucking my bottom lip, getting inside me deep. Pressing his big frame harder against me, I felt the solid length of his c**k hit me in the belly. Ethan Blackstone took control of my body and I let him.
I moaned into his kisses and buried my hands in his hair. I brought him closer, my ni**les tightening to brush against the chest muscles that felt so hard and male he had to be fiction. Except he wasn’t fiction, he was kissing me passionately in a public hallway on the tenth floor of the Shires Building in front of the Lorenzo Agency. He’d come here to find me.
He held my face on both sides so I couldn’t move away from the onslaught of his tongue. I was open to him and whatever he wanted me for. My reaction to Ethan was a weakness. I’d known it all along even if only imaginary at first understanding. The real thing was devastating.
He moved a hand off my face and brought it down to rest on my neck. His kiss slowed to soft nibbles until he pulled his lips away and I felt the cool air upon the wetness he’d left there.
“Open your eyes,” he told me. I lifted them to see Ethan’s face a mere inch away, his blue eyes burning hot with lust.
“I’m not your girl, Ethan.”
“You were during that kiss, Brynne.” Eyes flickering, he read me, and then he inhaled. I was a damp mess between my legs and I wondered if he could smell me. “You smell so good …and f**king sexy.”
Sweet Jesus! His thumb rubbed over my collarbone where his hand still rested on my neck. And I did absolutely nothing to stop him. I was enjoying the view too much. I’d tousled his hair from the mauling with my hands. He still looked gorgeous and probably did even when he crawled out of bed in the mornings. Bed. Was there a bed in our immediate future? It would take next to nothing on my part to get this man into bed. I didn’t have to be a genius to know he wanted sex. The real question here was did I want it?
“Ethan.” I pushed against the wall of steel that was his body and got nowhere. “Why me? Why are you acting this way?”