Beauty Shot (Hope Parish Novels Book 5) (14 page)

The minute came and
went, and another, and I felt her laughing against me.

“What?”
I looked down at her face.

“We couldn’t
do it…um…I mean guys can’t do it again that soon.
Am I right?”

I grinned. “Um…no,
not right.”

“
Ho-lee
mo-lee
,”
she said on a gasp.

“You do it for
me, Emmie.”

“I’d say
that was for sure,” as her eyes widened. She looked down
between us. “Nice and big…and all for me.”

“All for you,”
I whispered. No woman had ever done this to me, done it so quickly.
No one except Emmie.

When we were on our
way back to New York City, we stole many kisses in the dark,
murmuring sweet nothings back and forth. It was late when we got back
to Columbia. I walked Emmie to her dorm.

“Emmie?”
a voice came out of the shadows, followed by a shady character
dressed in shabby clothes, looking dirty and very unkempt.

Emmie gasped.
“Duncan?”

She turned to look
at me and my stomach dropped at the fear in her face.

“Who the hell
are you?” I demanded, immediately putting myself between him
and Emmie.

“A friend,”
he scowled, then his hollow eyes shifted back to Emmie. “I need
to talk to you.”

“Travis,”
she said, pulling away from me and it felt…permanent. Scary.
“Please, give me a minute.”

She walked out of
earshot with that lowlife. I wasn’t leaving her alone with him.
That was for sure.

They exchanged
words, then it was clear they became heated. Suddenly the guy grabbed
her, and I rushed over and pushed him away from her.

“No, Duncan,”
she said when he took a step toward me. “Get out of here. Now.”

“You’ve
changed,” he spat.

“That’s
right. I have. Now leave. Never come back.”

“To hell with
you.” He stalked off, but Emmie was already backing away.

“Emmie, what
is it?”

“Please don’t
ask me any questions.”

My world came
crashing down. “Why the hell not? We just shared something
special. I thought we had something special, but you don’t
trust me.”

“It’s
not that, Travis.” Her voice broke and she covered her eyes,
her chest heaving. When she looked at me there was guilt and shame in
every line of her. “You just don’t understand.”

“Help me
understand.”

“I’m
sorry. I shouldn’t have ever let this happen between us. You
are better off without me.”

I took a step, but
she retreated, shaking her head and my guts twisted. “No. No
I’m not. I’m better with you, more than I have ever
been.”

“I can’t,”
she said, tears filling her eyes before she bolted away into the
dorm.

I stood alone in the
night, confused, angry, my heart breaking. What the hell had
happened?

Deke

To say that I was
one of the most disgruntled men in New York City wasn’t much of
a stretch.

The other most
disgruntled guy would have to be my roommate, Travis. He wasn’t
just disgruntled, though. He was devastated. He had a falling out
with Emmie a month ago, and she had disappeared from our lives. I
missed her, but I knew Travis was really struggling.

Thanksgiving was
coming up fast, and I was set to go back to Suttontowne to visit my
parents and my brother and sister to celebrate the holiday. I looked
forward to going home and seeing everyone.

There wasn’t
much I could do to help him, or help my own situation. Minnie had
taken my virginity and it had been…mind-bending. I had
believed we became really close then, but she might as well have been
miles away.

She was
professional, and, true to my word, I was just as fucking
professional as I could stomach. It didn’t stop her from giving
me those sultry looks when she thought I wasn’t looking, or
stop me from having to grit my teeth to keep from putting my hands on
her. I ached to touch her, ached to hold her. I went to her shoots
and did as I was told. They paid me an obscene amount of money, but I
didn’t give a damn about that. We only were together behind
closed doors and I hated it. It put me in a bad mood. We wrapped
ourselves around each other. Couldn’t get enough of each other.

My classes were
going fine. Pretty easy. I worried about Travis and Emmie, but
neither of them would talk to me. He soldiered on. His responsibility
to his father made him conscientious about his studies. Every morning
he was up and gone by the time I got back from my shower. I dressed
and headed to my first class. English. Tiffany had long since given
me a wide berth, and although she hadn’t apologized, she at
least didn’t force her attentions on me anymore. Not the same
for the rest of the class.

I still got asked
out and outright propositioned, but I wasn’t interested in
meaningless sex. Never had been. Now that I had experienced this
amazing connection to Minnie, I couldn’t even imagine anyone
but her. But I chafed against the restriction against carrying on or
being open in public. It was the only thing about us that weighed
heavily on me.

As I left class, I
ran into Emmie. She had her head down and hadn’t seen me, or
she probably would have gone out of her way to avoid me, as usual.

I grabbed her to
steady her, and when she looked up, her eyes full of misery, they
cleared and she tried to bolt.

“Emmie, wait a
minute!” I said, dragging her to a lounge area and making her
sit down.

“Deke, leave
me alone and let me go.”

“Not until you
talk to me.”

“I don’t
want to talk to you.”

“Emmie. I care
about you. We’re friends. Tell me what’s wrong.”

She struggled for a
few more minutes, then collapsed against me bursting into tears.

“Aw, honey,
come on. Whatever it is can’t be as bad as you feel being
separated from Travis. He’s a sorry sonavabitch right now.”

She shook her head
and pressed harder into my chest. Several people looked at us, then
went back to their studies.

I tilted her head
up, my finger under her chin. “What?”

“Travis
doesn’t deserve this. Not at all. But I’m scared,”
she whispered, looking away.

I frowned. “Of
what? He would never hurt you.” I was sure of that. Travis was
a complete goner.

“Not of him—of
how he’ll react.”

“To what?”
I prodded. “What deep dark secret do you have?” I smiled
with encouragement.

“I don’t
have parents, not like you and Travis. I don’t have any family.
I was in foster care until I was twelve, when my foster father put
the moves on me. I got away from him and ran. I lived on the
streets.”

I wiped at her tears
with my thumb and shrugged. “A lot of people have a hard
childhood. Tell him. He won’t care.”

“You don’t
understand.” She gripped my wrist hard. “That’s not
all of it.”

“Emmie. You
don’t have to tell me. Tell Travis. Take the chance. I know he
will support you.”

“You have no
doubts, do you?”

“No, he’s
a good friend, a great guy. Take the chance.”

She shook her head
and got up, and this time I didn’t try to stop her. “His
life is so perfect, and mine is so flawed. I can’t, Deke.”

She turned and
walked away, and I felt bad for both of them. But I couldn’t
solve their problems. I couldn’t even solve my own. I had
another shoot, so as soon as I finished my homework, I got ready to
go out. I didn’t have the heart to tell Travis I had seen
Emmie. He didn’t say much, just kept his eyes glued to his
books.

“I’m
headed out for another job.”

He nodded without
looking up.

“Travis.”
He met my eyes. “She’ll come around. Give her some time.”

“She won’t
talk to me. I’ve tried. I don’t know what happened. I
just want her to come back to me.”

“I know.
Listen, after this shoot we’ll go out and do something. Get out
of this room.”

“I don’t
feel like it, Deke, but thanks.”

I took the subway to
the studio, and when I arrived I saw it was set up for a swimsuit
shot. I was already bracing myself. The dissatisfaction I was feeling
surged.

“Hello, Deke.
You’re early.” Minnie’s creative director, Susan,
greeted me. I smiled back at her and she sighed.

“Stuff is in
the back on the rack near the door.”

I nodded and stopped
dead. Minnie was there, talking to the photographer. She looked
great, dressed in a black miniskirt and a pink top. Her hair was
loose around her shoulders.

Some guy was being
photographed, and I had arrived at the tail end of his shoot. Minnie
saw me and smiled. I couldn’t get enough of that genuine
warmth.

She left the
photographer and walked over to me. “Deke,” she said, and
I took her hand and brought it to my mouth.

“Minnie. I
didn’t know you’d be here.”

“I was late
leaving.” She scolded me with her eyes for showing even this
much affection in public, but I didn’t care. I wanted to shout
to the rooftops that she was mine.

I nodded,
disappointed that she hadn’t been waiting for me.

“Let me show
you where you need to go,” she said.

She led the way
through the studio, leaving me to tag along behind her, eyes riveted
on the form-fitting miniskirt, the languid movement of her feet in a
pair of black stiletto heels, her naked legs, and the smooth, rolling
motion of her hips, and the most perfect ass I’d ever
seen—perfectly curved, perfectly tight. And I was dying, the
awful, wonderful feeling from the last time I’d touch her
swamping me in a big, crashing wave.

Pure lust had never
come so close to dropping me to my knees. Never. I could handle lust,
so this had to be something else, but I’d be damned if I was
going to put a name to it. I didn’t dare. Whatever it was, it
didn’t relent, not all the way through the studio, through the
door, or across the room to the rack. It was like a fist around my
heart, a cold knot in my stomach.

She kept up a
casual, mostly one-sided conversation about the weather. I heard
myself agree—Yes, it had been unseasonably warm—all the
time trying to tear my gaze away from the sway of her butt and the
little scrap of black cloth trying to cover it…and failing.
The only victory I could claim was I won the struggle to keep my
hands to myself and my tongue in my mouth; and I didn’t jump
her. Yeah, that was a victory, a pitiful, embarrassing victory.

She made me feel
like a hound, and I’d never dogged a woman in my life. I liked
to think I was a classier guy than that, smarter—but she was
taking me down with every step she took.

It was going to be a
long, exhausting, totally unfulfilling afternoon. I could already
tell.

#

Minnie

Not a minute went by
that I didn’t think of Deke. My tension was honed to a razor’s
edge, and it was cutting deeper by the minute. I wasn’t sure
how much more I could take of being around him. He had been true to
his word and been a perfect gentleman. So professional, so powerfully
attractive.

He had heeded all my
requests to keep this platonic in public, except for that kiss on my
hand. I had wanted to throw myself in him arms and kiss him senseless
when I saw him, but restrained myself because of the possible
repercussions.

The film from his
other shoots told me that it was only a matter of time before he hit
supermodel status. This campaign would make a star out of him. There
was no doubt. He’d signed an exclusivity contract with T&O,
so no one had seen how he modeled…and that was another thing.

He was a complete
natural.

Without waiting for
me to leave. He stripped down, as if taunting me with his gorgeous
backside that was soon covered with a piece of yellow lycra, tight
over his obvious hard-on.

He turned and
startled when he saw me. “You’re still here? I thought
you would have left by now.”

He sounded annoyed,
and I realized that he was just as pushed up against the wall as I
was. I’d kept my distance today on purpose. He knew it, and
hadn’t liked it.

“I think
she’ll want your hair loose.”

“That so?”
He moved in front of me, his bare chest almost touching my breasts.

“Deke…”

“Why don’t
you fix it for me? No one will see us.”

There was a knock on
the door and Susan called out, “Five minutes, Deke.”

My hand trembling, I
reached out and released his hair. It tumbled around his shoulders,
shiny, blond, thick, and tempting me to touch.

“Thanks,”
he said, brushing past me, his chest coming into contact with my
breasts. He walked out of the room.

I closed my eyes. My
control was slipping. Everything I’d learned about Deke was
making me crazy to get to know him even better. He was winning.
Bloody hell.

I went back into the
studio, and Susan motioned me over to the monitor that would flash up
Deke’s pictures as the photographer took them.

“He is so easy
on the eyes,” Susan muttered while she waited.

Deke stood there in
that classic male pose that turned women on because it accentuated
the power of their chest, arms, thighs. Sending the message that this
was a man who could not only protect, but hunt. He looked like a
predator.

The photographer
triggered her shutters again and again, capturing Deke completely.
Someone threw water on him, and he didn’t miss a beat. As that
image flashed up on the screen, the water suspended in midair, I took
a heated breath.

I couldn’t
look away from him. I watched photo after photo flip past, showing
him while he seemed to do the work effortlessly.

His eyes were
illuminated, ocean blue with streaks of turquoise green, as
ever-changing as the ocean itself and as vast. He looked so serious.