Exposure (17 page)

Britain looks pretty serious. The
gossip must be juicy.

She ushers me out of the dressing room
and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and locking it.
She spins toward me, and to my surprise, she looks pissed. “What
the fuck were you thinking, sleeping with Adam?”

“
I…
what
? Did you hear us or
something?”

“
Oh Christ, Evan. Everyone
knows!” she spits.

I sit on the toilets. “I’m confused.
Does this have to do with not sleeping with coworkers? Because I
don’t remember us ever establishing that rule.”

“
No, you moron. This has
to do with Delilah being in love with Adam.”

My jaw drops. “Excuse me?”

“
But you wouldn’t know
that, because you’ve been a bit self-centered over the past couple
of months.”

I stand. “What the
fuck
, Brit? I’m sorry
that wanting to get into a good grad school has made self-centered.
I can’t be hanging out with you guys every fucking
second.”

She steps toward me, her face solemn.
“Face the facts, Evan. You didn’t know that one of your best
friends had feelings for a guy you just slept with, grad school or
no grad school.” And with that, she spins on her heel and leaves me
alone in the bathroom, feeling like the biggest tool
imaginable.

I had no idea that Delilah was into
Adam, and he obviously seems to not know either. I mean, how could
he, with all of the faux flirting and sexual tension?

How can he separate what’s real and
what isn’t?

I think of Dallas.

No, Dallas is different. Dallas isn’t
single. I know that nothing between us is real. I know
it.

I know it.

Heading to the dressing room, I pass
Delilah in the hall, all made up for her shoot today. She sneers at
me and stomps away. I call her name but she doesn’t stop. Doesn’t
turn around.

Damnit. Damnit, I fucked
up.

I head to my own set—the bedroom.
Today, it’s made up with frilly white and pink, the walls decorated
in posters of heart throbs and boy bands.

This is supposed to be Rylan’s room.
The sight of it makes me gag.

Dallas sits in the plush arm chair in
the corner of the room wearing nothing but boxers. His arms are
crossed, and he glares at me.

I’m really getting sick of seeing this
look today.

“
And what the hell is
wrong with
you
?”
I snarl.

“
Oh, nothing, just that we
were supposed to be filming—” he looks at his bare wrist
dramatically, “I don’t know, an hour ago, but someone was too busy
screwing all night that she couldn’t get out of bed in
time.”

Heat rips through me,
broiling my insides. “You know what, Dallas? You can go fuck
yourself. My sex life is none of your business, and even if it
were, it’s
an hour
. If your day is so packed with interesting shit to do, then
why don’t you just leave?”

He jumps to his feet, hands balled
into fists. For a second, I actually think that he’s going to
listen to me before Britain comes into the room and shuts the
door.

Dallas opens his mouth like he’s going
to say something to her, but she cuts him off. “Okay, so today’s
shoot is going to be private for obvious reasons.” She walks around
the room and turns on the umbrella lighting, throwing a box of
condoms on the nightstand.

Dallas nods toward the condoms and
crosses his arms. “What are those for?”

“
This shoot could get a
little intense.” Britain shrugs. “Adam and Delilah needed
them.”

“
Of course, Adam needed
one,” Dallas spits.

“
Go suck a dick,
Dallas.”

Britain snorts. “Okay, I don’t want to
guess what the hell is going on with you two, but are you going to
be able to manage to do this today?”

Dallas glares at me, bright eyes
boring into mine, and finally says, “I’m good.”

I untie my bathrobe and let it fall to
the floor. I wear nothing but a lacy pick push-up bra and a
matching thong. Even in the heat of being pissed for whatever
reason, Dallas’s eyes still rake over my body. Thrill courses
through me.

“
Okay, then. Get on the
bed.”

^^^^

The first part of the shoot is
straight-up painful. Dallas moves like a robot, and playing sexy
with him is less fun than chewing on nails.

Britain can tell.

“
Come the fuck on,” she
says, dropping her camera. “Can the two of you do this or not,
because you are wasting my time and yours.”

I’m lying beneath Dallas.
He’s supposed to be moving his mouth over me sexily, like he’s done
in
every other shoot
we’ve modeled in together. But instead it’s like he’s
dragging his face over my chest against his will.

I push him away and sit
up. “I can’t perform when he’s not even
trying
to turn me on.”

Dallas crosses his arms
over his chest and raises an eyebrow. “You want me to turn
you
on?”

I shrug. “That’s how this has always
worked, Dallas.”

“
If you guys don’t figure
it out in thirty seconds, I’m calling it quits,” Britain
threatens.

“
You think I’m supposed to
magically pull a way to turn you on out of my ass?” he seethes
through gritted teeth.

It’s my turn to cross my arms.
“Something like that.”

Britain sighs. “Nineteen, eighteen,
seventeen…”

“
I’ve never fucked you
before, Evan. I don’t know what your kinks are.”

“
You’re telling me that,
after shooting with me for a month and a half now, you have
absolutely no idea what turns me on… I call total
bullshit.”

“
Six, five,
four…”

The muscles in his jaw ripple, and his
eyes burn with loathing. For a second, I think it’s over. We’re
going to have to come back to this a different because for some
reason, Dallas thinks he owns my every movement. He thinks he owns
my…

Suddenly he grabs my shoulders,
pushing me down and over his lap. And then he smacks my ass.
Hard.

I scream, more out of surprise than
pain. But it makes Britain drop her camera
none-the-less.

“
Jesus, Evan! Are you
okay?”

I take in a few deep, shaking breaths.
“Y-yes. He just shocked me.”

“
Err… is
this
okay?” she then
asks.

Dallas kneads the area
where he smacked gently, but says nothing. I can already feel
wetness soaking the apex of my thighs. Soon, he’s going to see it.
He’s going to
feel
it.

“
Just shoot the fucking
pictures,” I tell her.

Taking the cue, Dallas raises his hand
and smacks me again, and again—every connection stinging more than
the last until my ass is on fire. The fingers of his other hand
tangle through my hair, and then he balls his hand into a fist
around my locks, tugging gently. He massages me again and I groan
in relief. Bending forward, he whispers to me, “You are mine until
this is over.” He raises his hand and smacks me again, the sharp
crack filling the air. I cry out, balling the frilly fabric of the
comforter in my fists.

He loops his finger beneath the band
of my thong and tugs downward until it slides off my legs and onto
the floor. He begins to knead my ass again, fingers sinking into
the flesh of my abused cheek. I relax every tense muscle in my
body, my head resting on the mattress. I allow my eyes to flutter
shut. Not a single part of me is acting right now. Every emotion
racing through me—all of them are real.

Dallas drags his fingers up the inside
of my thigh, grazing the lips of my pussy. “So fucking wet,” he
whispers loudly enough for only me to here. His hand slides back
over my ass again and up my back, unhooking my bra. I lift my
shoulders to shimmy out of it, and he flips me over, lifting his
hand so Britain can toss him a tiny white cloth we’re going to use
to separate our bodies in our faux fucking.

I lie on my back on the bed. Dallas
stands and drops his boxers, and I do my best to keep my jaw from
dropping at my very first glimpse of his erection. He drapes the
cloth over my hips, and I gasp as he drags me to the edge of the
bed.

His expression is furious and lustful
and gorgeous.

He grasps my knees and pulls my legs
apart, situating himself in between them. “Just like at your mom’s
place.”

“
What?”
Britain cries.

He glances over at her. “Hey you over
there with the camera—don’t ruin the moment.”

I giggle and his eyes fall to me
again—sea foam on fire. “Just like we practiced, baby,” he rumbles,
and rocks forward.

I lift my hands over my head, arch my
back, and allow my lips to part in ecstasy.

“
Fucking perfect,” Britain
says. “Don’t move.”

We remain like this for a handful of
seconds until Britain gives the go-ahead, and Dallas ducks his
head, tongue darting out to swirl around my nipple. I gasp when he
bites down softly, rocking my hips into his. His erection rubs
against my soaking slit, driving me mad.

“
Please,” I whisper when
his face is right above mine.

“
What?”

“
I want you.”

He inhales deeply through
his nose and shuts his eyes, like he’s about to lose control. And I
want him to. I
need
him to. When he opens his eyes again, they find my lips. He
raises his fingers to my mouth and traces it, and when I part my
lips, he pushes his index finger past. I suck it into my mouth and
drag my tongue along the underside of his digit, eyes fluttering
shut like it’s the best fucking thing that’s ever been in my
mouth.

Because it is.

He groans, and when he pulls his hand
from me, his finger slide from my mouth with a pop. His breathing
is rapid. I reach up and cup his face, and his expression flickers
with sadness. And then fear.

“
That’s a wrap,” Britain
says softly.

^^^^

When Dallas dresses and leaves, I
return to the living quarters side of the house and take a shower.
As I wash the makeup and sweat and stickiness from my skin, I close
my eyes and meditate on what it felt like to be with Dallas today,
as pissed as he made me. The two of us won’t be doing this again
for a while. Hell, who knows. After the way we acted today, Britain
might not stick him with me again.

Maybe it’s for the best.

After an eternity beneath the scalding
jet, I turn the shower off and step out of the tub, wrapping myself
in a towel. I open the door and enter the hall, surprised to see
Britain standing by my bedroom door. She stares blankly at the
adjacent wall, slowly turning her phone over and over in her
hand.

“
Brit?”

She blinks and glances at me. “Dallas
quit.”

Dallas

Britain promised me she’d mail me all
my checks from here on out. I can’t go back to that studio
again.

I can’t see Evan.

Granted, this is impossible with Evan
being in my department. I practically see her every goddamn day of
my life, if not only from a distance. She hasn’t texted me or
called me. When she passes me in the halls, she looks away. When I
hand an assignment back to her in the lecture hall, she takes it
without a word.

She knows.

It’s that every second I’m with her, I
crave her. I ache for her. And I can’t stop doing this to
myself.

To us.

Because it’s turning me into a
cheater, and a terrible person.

The second issue in the EPE series is
released the day that Tricia comes home. When she walks in the
door, she squeals and races to me, jumping into my arms. “Missed
you,” she says between kisses. “Missed you, missed you, my
Dallas.”

I show her my first check for four
grand, more money than I’ve probably ever made in a pay period. I
also show her, with reluctance, the new issue. She scans my pool
photo shoot with Evan as if she were shopping for socks. “This is
your calling,” she tells me. “Screw biology.”

“
I quit.”

She drops the magazine and gapes at
me, and I pull her to my chest, wrapping her in my arms. “Trust me,
it’s for the better.”

She pushes away from me. “How can you
say that, Dallas? You’re obviously talented. This could be
it!”

“
Because I love you and
don’t want to be tempted by beautiful women every day of my
life.”

“
I already told you,
Dallas. I trust you.” She’s practically begging me with her
eyes.

I shake my head. How do I break it to
her that I don’t trust myself? “We’ll talk about this another
time.” Solid save. “I have paychecks from EPE that’ll be coming in
until the end of summer, most likely. If it’s money you’re worried
about…”