Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
It’s not like I’m super confident about my body or anything. I’ve never had a reason to be.
But with Felix, here, this chance….
It’s like I can forget about that. I don’t have to obsess about if he’ll be attracted to me. He’s already said I’m perfect for this shoot…not perfect in general, but for whatever creative force is driving him.
As I place my phone on the counter – knowing I’m not going to, can’t call Lola – I wonder if he picked me for a different reason.
Maybe he doesn’t want a beautiful woman after all.
Maybe he wants the model to match the city shots and wants to combine their effect, doubly depressing.
That would make sense for the sudden change.
Does he really expect me to believe I’m more beautiful than Jeneva?
But then his deep voice is right outside the door. It sounds somehow tenser than usual, a deep growl beneath it like he’s on the verge of an explosion.
Smoothing my hands over my belly, I tell myself it’s an explosion for me.
Not for his work. Not because he’s eager to get started.
He wants me, just me, forever.
“Are you almost ready?” he calls.
I look at my phone again, thinking of my push-up bra and the somewhat stylish panties I’m wearing. I wanted to feel sexy today, or as sexy as it’s possible for me to feel as if I could challenge the model with my fake self-esteem.
“Faye?” he calls, and I’m sure I hear some urgency in his voice, some hunger.
“Y-yes,” I reply, reaching for my dress and getting ready to pull it up and over my head.
What the heck am I doing?
“Just a minute.”
CHAPTER TEN
Felix
I pause before pushing the door open, achingly aware of my rock-hard manhood, the length pushing against my pants.
This is all spinning out of control, events spiraling fast, so I don’t have a chance to think about them or question what I’m doing.
It’s just the hunger, the precome leaking hotly out of my cock, the haze in my mind that makes thinking about anything other than Faye difficult.
“Okay,” she calls. “I’m ready.”
I swallow, my heart thudding so powerfully that I feel it reverberating throughout my body. My cock gives an urgent shudder when I hear the high-pitched note in her voice like she’s getting all excited in there.
As far as she’s concerned, I forcibly remind myself. This is nothing but a slightly weird photoshoot. She thinks she’s just doing me a favor.
As I push open the door, I promise myself I’ll remember that.
I’ll act appropriately.
But then I see her, and the promise turns to ash.
I stand in the doorway, my camera around my neck, gazing at her as she stands before the city backdrop I had put up a couple of days ago. The studio lights are on, aimed at her, traveling all over her young curvy body.
The tension in my manhood becomes even firmer, even readier. My balls are fuller than they ever have been, as if my seed is trying to escape. I’m almost howling with the need to take her hard, take her now.
Her body really is perfect.
Her bare thighs are thick, fucking tasty-looking, pushed together and framing her purple underwear beautifully. Her belly is gorgeous sheerly because I know my children will be in there one day. The straps of her panties push against her wide hips, making her flesh look even needier for attention.
Her breasts almost make me come in my pants. I feel the seed rushing up, and then I push it down.
Force it to stop.
I’m not wasting a single drop anywhere but inside her.
But her breasts get me close.
She’s wearing a pushup bra, guiding her gorgeous flesh into a shape that has my head spinning. I almost groan, wondering if she’s going to look down and see how solid I am.
My pants are a dark color, so will that hide it?
Part of her wants me to see the effect she’s having on me, so she can realize just how sexy she is. There was too much shock on her face when I told her.
My gaze moves to her face, the flush in her cheeks, the way she’s biting down like she doesn’t know what to do. Her body language is so tantalizingly innocent and unsure, like she’s silently begging for me to approach her, to slide my hands down her body and guide her into position.
“Is it okay?” she asks.
It takes me a second to realize what she means. It is the whole situation, the backdrop, and the project and her, but she’s only part of it. That’s what she means.
She’s wrong.
She’s everything to me.
“Yes,” I say, voice trembling as I grab my camera and turn it on.
“Oh,” she sighs. “Good. I’m not much of a model. I feel a bit weird standing here in my underwear.”
I freeze, listening to the uncertain note in her voice.