Read EroticTakeover Online

Authors: Tina Donahue

EroticTakeover (11 page)

Chuckling, he reached around her and typed something. “Go
on, look.” He pressed his mouth to her ear and whispered, “I swear nothing bad
will happen.”

Maybe not to him since these weren’t BDSM photos of his
body. For her though… Jodi’s worries about her looks and modeling skills were
never far away. She turned to the screen slowly. The shots were raw, just as
he’d said, none of the background stuff cropped out. Didn’t matter. Her face
and body dominated the scenes.

Jodi gaped at her expression in the pictures, heightened by
the provocative and dramatic angles Mac had chosen. In some of the shots, he’d
focused on her mouth. In others, her eyes, breasts or ass, the lighting
perfect, none of her flaws obvious.

She kept returning to the ones of her face. “Is that how I
look when I come?”

“Uh-huh.”

She squealed. “Wow. That’s amazing. These are good.”

“Because they’re the real you, not put on. You did all the
work. I simply recorded it.”

Not true. These were astonishing. “Have you seen my DMV
photo? That’s horribly real.”

Laughing, he shut down his computer and eased Jodi to her
feet.

As he led her from his office, she glanced back at it.
“We’re not going to look at the ones you take tonight?”

“Sure. When I finally take them.”

Finally? She pressed her arm to his as they reached her
desk. “We’re going to play first?”

“Not with our food.” Mac pulled her purse out of the bottom
drawer and handed it to her.

“We’re getting takeout again?”

“Nope.” He slipped his arm around her waist and led her out
the front door. “You’ve been a good girl…for the most part.” Loosening his
hold, Mac smacked her ass playfully then wrapped his arm around her again. “I
think it’s time you eat with the adults.”

She hurried down the steps, keeping up with him. “We’re
eating inside McDonald’s rather than in their PlayPlace?”

“I don’t think they allow food out there. I never take mine
from the inside.”

“That’s because you’re a good boy.”

Reaching his car, he opened her door and lifted her skirt.
“Not that good.”

Jodi slapped his hands away and her skirt down. The sun had
started to set, creating long shadows but not enough dusk to hide everything,
especially her nudity. With numerous cars still in the lot, she worried about
their owners approaching.

No one did.

Thankful, she noticed how warm the air was, though not
unbearably so, and filled with the pleasant scent of flowers and grass. Those
lovely fragrances brought back memories of high school and college, moments
that still had the power to wound. Back then, everyone in her classes hooked up
with someone over the summer, eager to go to parties, a movie, the mall. Having
a good time that always seemed to elude her.

Tonight was different. Even though Mac’s interest in her
wouldn’t last forever, she couldn’t resist being young, hopeful, eager and bold
for the first time in her life. “Tell me where we’re going. I’m not getting
into the car until you do.”

“Have it your way.” He tickled her.

Jodi gasped and fell into her seat to get away from him. Mac
lifted her legs into the car, pushed her skirt in and shut the door.

Slouched in her seat, she stared as he got inside. “Am I
dressed okay for wherever we’re going?” Although her skirt was nicer than
jeans, her black top and sandals weren’t fancy.

“You’re dressed better than I am.”

They were probably going to another outside place like
Dilli’s. Jodi relaxed, her hand on Mac’s thigh, her fingers laced between his.
“I found out the strangest thing the other day. Viv has kids.”

“Yep. Three of them. I wouldn’t call them strange though.”

“Not them. The fact that she has any kids at all. She’s so
young and gorgeous.”

“Her husband thinks so too.” Mac turned from the road and
wiggled his eyebrows at her. “That’s why she has three kids.”

“He doesn’t mind her modeling?”

“Her body, her choice.”

“He must really be confident that she loves him. Most guys
would be jealous as hell about anyone looking at their woman’s body.”

“I think she told him that Rocco and I are gay. Maybe even
in love with each other.”

Jodi laughed.

“Are you still worried what your parents will think about
what you’re doing?”

She’d never
stopped
worrying. “They’re never going to
know. No matter how blasé I might get, showing them the pictures you’ve taken
would be like discussing my sex life with them.”

Mac grinned, possibly remembering the highlights of their
fuckfest. His cock buried in each of her openings, their shouts of unashamed
delight, the comfort of falling asleep in each other’s arms. “Good move,” he
said at last.

Jodi’s laughter died as he suddenly pulled to the curb. She
turned in her seat to see if there was an ambulance behind them. Nope. Just
cars. Mac hit the locks. Her door swung open. Surprised, she looked up into the
face of a young guy who offered his hand.

“Welcome to Garner’s,” he said.

She finally noticed the valet sign and the crowd outside the
Art Deco building. The structure was solid white, tinted gold by the setting
sun. Semicircles with geometric figures embellished its lone spire. Leaded
glass filled the arched windows. Surrounded by modern skyscrapers, the building
looked like something out of Hollywood’s heyday, except for the mega-short
dresses the ladies wore, all made of glittery fabrics and surely expensive.

Jodi fingered her gauze skirt that she’d bought at K-Mart.

“Mr. Callaghan,” the young man said after helping Jodi out
of the car.

Mac was already at the trunk, closing it. Draped over his
arm were a tan blazer and dark-blue tie. “Ben.”

They shook hands.

“How’s school?” Mac asked.

“Good. But I won’t be sorry when I graduate.”

Mac patted the younger man on the shoulder then slipped on
his jacket and pulled the tie over his black T-shirt. The women in line watched
him. Jodi couldn’t blame them. Even with his ridiculous outfit, he was
gorgeous.

Smiling, he joined her, his attention on no one else, as
though she were the only woman in the world.

Jodi’s throat tightened with emotion that she was
experiencing this, even though she knew times as great as tonight couldn’t
possibly last.

“Ready for a great steak?” he said then frowned. “Wait—you
do like meat, right?”

She ran her fingers down his chest to his abs, the feel of
those hard muscles making her breath catch. “Some better than others.”

“Bad girl.” With her hand in his, he led her to the front
door.

She held back. “What are you doing? There’s a line.”

“Not for us.” Mac nodded in greeting to a man in a dark suit
who guarded the front entrance.

The guy offered a broad smile. “Good evening, Mr. Callaghan.
Enjoy your meal.” He opened the door.

Several men in the crowd grumbled about the special
treatment she and Mac received. Jodi wondered if his artistic nudes would be plastered
all over the restaurant walls. Could be the owner paid for the portraits by
giving Mac unlimited access to the restaurant.

To Jodi’s surprise, there wasn’t a photograph in the place.
The softly lit interior was mostly gleaming wood and dark leather booths that
gave it a cloistered, romantic feel.

The scent of seared meat, garlic, grilled onions and freshly
baked bread made her stomach growl.

Mac looked from her belly to the maître d and the hustling
wait staff as he passed. All of them beamed at him. He smiled in return and
kept moving, not waiting for a seat. As far as Jodi could see, there were no
available spots. The tables and bar area were packed.

Didn’t make sense for them to be in here with Mac strutting
around as if he—wait. “Do you own this place?”

He slowed and looked over. “Not now. I will. Maybe.”

Good god, the man could be so cryptic. “What does that
mean?”

“Mom needed to invest her money somewhere so she decided to
buy this place. If she holds on to it and it doesn’t go out of business, I’ll
own it someday. Unless she wills it to one of my half-brothers or sisters.”

Oh. “Is being rich always that complicated?”

He laughed. “You have no idea.”

Mac stopped at the end of the aisle and ushered her into a
private room that was nicer than anything in her parents’ house. Several small
lamps with Tiffany-style shades offered a soft glow. Candles in fluted glass
containers flickered on a table draped with a snowy-white cloth. Four burgundy
wing chairs surrounded it. Unlike the walls in the other part of the
restaurant, these were papered in a vintage design depicting peacock feathers,
some of them in maroon, others in silver, the background lavender.

“Wow.” She kept turning in circles to capture everything.
“This could have been a high-end brothel in the olden days for princes and the
aristocracy. I should have worn my leather straitjacket here.”

Even before her words had faded, Jodi’s face flamed. Damn, she
was changing. Looking over, she caught Mac’s smile.

He slid the wooden door into place, sealing them in, and
headed for her. “You’re a bad—“

A knock on the door caused Mac to stop. His shoulders
slumped. “Why does everyone keep bothering me?”

“Because you’re the boss?”

His chest shook with laughter that he stifled before he let
the waiter inside, a good-looking young guy named Pete dressed in black pants,
a white shirt and bowtie. He and Mac shook hands, talked about Pete’s upcoming
audition for a new reality show—which Pete claimed he’d only landed because Mac
had taken such great headshots during their photo shoot a few months back— and
then Pete got down to business.

Mac waved away the daily specials and ordered from the menu.
Baked brie for an appetizer and prime ribeye as his entrée. Jodi nearly choked
at the prices. His prime rib alone was over fifty bucks. His meal did include a
salad, sides and dessert, but still… She scoured the menu for something
reasonably priced.
Dream on.
Even the cheapest salad cost twelve
dollars.

“Get whatever you want,” Mac said. “Including an appetizer.
We can share.”

She nodded. “I’ll have the French onion soup.” It cost the
same as the smallest salad.

Pete smiled at her choice and waited.

“That’s all,” she said. “Except for water.”

“Wait.” Mac turned to her. “Do you like pork chops?”

Who didn’t? “I guess.”

“Garner’s has the best. You’ve got to try them.” He ordered
a double thick portion for her with julienned apples, mustard glaze, a Caesar
salad, the house potatoes and sautéed mushrooms.

“We’ll look at the dessert menu at the end of our meal,” Mac
told Pete. “Bring us a bottle of your best red wine. Dry.”

“You got it.” Pete left, sliding the door back into place.

Mac scooted his chair closer to hers and took Jodi’s hand.
“I know you’re worried about the money, but don’t be. Trust me, I’m not. You’ve
had a tough day. You need to relax.”

His voice was soft, his expression unbelievably tender. What
in the world was she going to do when this was over? Which it would be. Men like
Mac didn’t make their futures with women like her. They’d become close these
last days, which was a miracle in itself, but it would never go beyond being
friends with benefits. “I barely worked. I was at the salon for hours.”

“Having your hair ripped out has to be tough. You earned
tonight.”

She laughed. “What would you have done if I’d had all my
hair pulled out?”

“Spanked you for touching one strand on your head. You
should let it grow out. I love the color.”

He was too good for her ego. Such a danger to her heart.

It didn’t care, wanting what it could have now, encouraging
her to push worry aside and let things simply happen.

The wine made dismissing her fears easy. The appetizers
didn’t hurt. Both the food and booze relaxed Jodi like a hot bath or a slow,
sensual massage. The chops were excellent, seared enough on the outside to make
them crispy, succulent on the inside, the meat so tender she barely had to
chew.

She and Mac ate from each other’s plates, neither of them
able to decide which entrée they liked best. They laughed about the UPS guy’s
reaction to Viv’s nudity then talked about other stuff. Silly, inconsequential
things that only they had shared and meant so much to her.

At last, Mac laid his hands on his belly and stretched out
his legs as though he were at home, ready to watch sports on TV as Jodi’s dad
always did after a big meal. “Damn, I’m full.”

She ran her nails lightly down his arm. “You don’t want
dessert?”

Mac rolled his head over the back of his chair and smiled at
her. He looked well fed and content. “Do you?”

“Absolutely. I’ve been a good girl. I deserve a reward.”

“That you—Jodi?”

She’d already slipped out of her chair to the floor.

Mac caught her wrist. “What are you doing?”

“Having dessert.” Mac could be so dense at times.

His eyes finally sparkled with understanding and joy. “No
shit? Bad girl.”

“You have no idea.” Jodi fully intended to show him. She
went between his legs, uncertain what had given her the courage to do this.
Maybe the three glasses of wine she’d had or the pleasant conversation that
deepened their friendship?

Or maybe she was falling in love…and had been from the
moment she’d met Mac.

Oh god, she was so screwed but couldn’t stop her feelings or
deny what she wanted.

Jodi unbuttoned his jeans and lowered his fly. His cock
blossomed at her lightest touch on his stretchy boxers. He groaned with need as
she guided his rod through the placket.

Filled with tenderness and longing, Jodi slipped his crown
into her mouth.

“Holy mother shit,” Mac sputtered. He dug the heels of his
sandals into the hardwood floor. His toes curled and splayed.

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