***
“I look ridiculous.” Staring at my reflection, I wondered if it was possible to die of embarrassment. But it didn’t take long to figure out the answer. If it was possible, encounters with Flynn would have already killed me two or three times over. If not that first day with him, then surely that morning when I’d woken up naked in his bed.
“You look hot,” he said, voice neutral.
I shot him a look, but his face was set in professional lines. He could have been talking to Cody, or to a total stranger for all the inflection there. Nothing showed in his face either. His cadet blue eyes were blank, containing none of the heat I’d come to expect from him.
Slowly, I turned my head back to my reflection. Well, it wasn’t hard to imagine that he was talking to a stranger, because I sure as hell looked like one. My own auburn hair was covered by a black wig, the cut heavy and full and every time I turned my head, the fake locks fell into my eyes. Flynn assured me it was deliberate. The hair was my disguise this time, his way of following the rule that I’d laid out: my face was not to be seen.
But the hair wasn’t the problem.
The problem was the clothes.
Black leather pants looked like they’d been painted on and I was terrified that if I moved the wrong way, I’d pop out of them. They rose up just high enough that I could bend over without my ass hanging out—that’s a problem when you have a butt. Most of those low-riding styles weren’t designed for people with actual asses, but these fit like they’d been made for me. A red vest completed the outfit. It laced up the back like a corset and vee’d down between my breasts far enough to make it clear I wore nothing under it.
“I look ridiculous,” I said again.
“No. You don’t. You’re perfect.” Then he gestured to the backdrop. “Come on.”
There was a sword resting against a motorcycle and I stopped short. “Please tell me I’m not sitting on that.”
“No. It’s a prop, just like the sword.”
The odd tone in his voice had me sliding him another look, but the hair kept getting in my eyes. Aggravated by it, I shoved it out of the way and studied him. “I’m holding the sword, I assume?”
“Yep. The sword is kind of the character’s trademark and the bike is enchanted.” His matter-of-fact tone would’ve made me laugh if I wasn’t so annoyed. It seemed like I was always annoyed anymore.
“Great,” I muttered, shaking my head. “An enchanted motorcycle.” Huffing out a breath, I picked up the sword and staggered a little at the weight of it. “Shit, is this real?”
“Yes.” Some amusement threaded into his voice, but when I looked at Flynn, I figured I’d imagined it, because he wasn’t looking at me or the sword. He was checking his camera, adjusting the lights. Doing everything but looking at me. It seemed weird, but I was a far cry from being able to understand this man. I was starting to think it required a particular and specialized degree in Flynn-ology.
He checked my position, the lights and then lifted his camera.
“Let’s get to it.”
Over the course of the next two hours, I grew increasingly more sore and more edgy. It wasn’t even like Flynn was doing anything either. It was just the way he was watching me. Normally, when Flynn McCreary looked at me, I had the idea that he was either pissed off at me,
trying
to piss me off…or picturing me naked all over again. But this…this wasn’t like that that. This was like he was trying to see
inside
me. Trying to understand something.
And I didn’t like it. I had enough shit to deal with between the wedding itself, the monster-in-law, my issues with Edward not helping, Kendra’s disapproval...I didn’t need the youngest brother adding to that even more than he already had.
My shoulders and arms were aching by the time he called it quits and I couldn’t have been happier to put the hilt of that heavy sword down. I’d always assumed photographs of people holding swords were done with some sort of plastic prop. I supposed Flynn was going for authenticity, but it didn’t make the damn thing weigh any less.
Disappearing behind the screen, I stripped out of the hot leather and the vest, taking a moment to rest against the wall while my head pounded and my muscles quivered. A hot bath, a glass of wine…that’s what I was going to do once I got home.
My limbs were quivering when I pulled my clothes on, leaving the costume pieces hanging up on the wall hooks. I slipped out from behind the changing screen and shrieked when I all but walked into Flynn.
“Dammit, make a sound, would you?! You’re going to give me a heart attack!” The intense look on his face stopped anything else I might’ve said.
“I’m sorry.” He shoved his hands into his pockets as he said it. His posture was off as he stood there with his legs spread wide, shoulders half-rounded, as though he was braced for some sort of blow. Usually, he carried his tall, lean frame in such a way that I forgot he and Edward were the same height.
“Sorry?” Shaking my head, I asked, “For what? I mean, that night…well, you already apologized and I…”
“Well, yeah. That, but that’s not what I meant.”
He shifted his weight and moved closer. Automatically, I backed away until I found myself against the wall. Pressing my hand against it, I lifted my free hand and pressed it against his chest to keep him from coming any closer.
That was a mistake.
Just the simple act of touching him sent sensory memory exploding through me. His body moving over mine, under mine…
inside
mine. The feel of his cock, throbbing and pulsing as he filled me. The stark, naked hunger in his eyes as he’d looked down at me…
His pupils spiked and flared. Slowly, he reached up and closed his hand around my wrist. But he didn’t push it away, nor did he use it to pull me closer. He just stroked my wrist, his thumb scraping across the delicate inside and even I could feel the jump in my pulse. It was as if he was touching a part much, much more intimate.
“I’m sorry for the photos. How I made you think I’d show them to Edward. I’m not going to do that.” The words were low, rough. “I’d never do that.”
His voice sent a shiver down my spine, because I could remember another time when he’d sounded that way. The things he’d whispered in my ear then. The things he’d done to my body.
A hungry pulsing settled low inside me and I clenched my thighs together, hoping I wouldn’t do something stupid, like kiss him. Again. Deliberately, I lowered my gaze and stared at the engagement ring on the hand he held, the emerald flashing at me.
Edward,
I told myself.
You’re in love with Edward.
“I can’t stop thinking about you, Gabriella. You’re in my head, in my dreams…it’s like you’ve crawled inside my soul and I can’t get you out.”
“Flynn…” I trailed off, uncertain what I was even going to say to that.
I never had the chance to try, either, because he was kissing me. His tongue slid past my still parted lips and I whimpered. Fisting the hand still pressed to his chest, I resisted the urge to tug him closer, to bite down on the tongue so skillfully moving against mine.
The passion, the heat…everything that I remembered about him…it was all there.
And more. Something that hadn’t been there before. Something I wanted to know more about.
But this…
“This isn’t right,” I said, pulling back. My voice was breathless and I hated myself for it.
I squeezed past him, needing to put distance between us. Out in the wide, brightly lit studio instead of behind the shadowed screen, I could breathe again. I shoved my hands through my hair, dislodging the pins that had been used to help hold it in place while I’d had the wig on. Aggravated, I pulled them all out and dumped them on the nearest flat surface. I knew it made my hair all wild, but I didn’t care what I looked like at the moment.
Turning to look at Flynn, I said, “Don’t do that again.”
He didn’t say a word, but there was still heat in his eyes.
My heart was pounding. I felt hot and itchy, like my skin was too small. “I love your brother,” I told him. “I love him. We’re getting married.”
He inclined his head, but said nothing.
“If you’re not going to show him the pictures, then give them to me.”
“No.” He jammed his hands back into his pockets, his voice turning cool, almost icy. His eyes followed suit and the mask was back in place. “I’m keeping them.”
“But—”
He just shook his head, striding toward me. I tensed, but all he did was pull something out of his pocket. Slowly, I took it. It was my check for the session. I folded it and put it in my own pocket.
He watched me for a moment, his expression unreadable. “I’m not surprised, you know.”
“By what?”
“That you chose him.” The smile that curved his lips didn’t reach his eyes. There was a pain there I didn’t want to see, didn’t want to understand. “But I’m keeping the pictures.”
Chapter 14
“That…
asshole
!”
A lady on the corner gave me an odd look from the corner of her eye, but as soon as she saw that I’d noticed, she went back to staring determinedly straight ahead. The tourists next to her, though, were staring at me. I guess they didn’t have a lot of people who talked to themselves wherever they came from. There was no doubt about it, either. They were tourists. The
I LOVE NYC
t-shirts were a dead giveaway, along with the cherry red sunburns.
I stuck my tongue out at the woman who kept staring at me and edged my way closer to the street as I waited for the light to turn. She was lucky I hadn’t flipped her off, as pissed as I was at the moment. As soon as the light turned, both the obvious NYC native and I started to walk, ignoring the beeping horns. It was a New York thing and I’d learned it fast. We’d walk as soon as the light changed and cars would just stop. I guess everybody figures they can’t hit all the pedestrians.
I didn’t get it. Why wouldn’t Flynn just give me the damn pictures? He’d said he was sorry for trying to blackmail me, and that he never would’ve shown the pictures to Edward, but he still wouldn’t return them. Why?
Once I was across the street, I ducked into a coffee shop, ordered an iced mocha, and then found a corner where I could deal with the situation.
Before I could lose my nerve, I sent him a message. I would have demanded an explanation right after he’d said it, except he’d locked himself inside his office and blasted the music.
If I’d been one of my story characters, I would’ve just given the door a single good kick and it would’ve flown open, leaving him no choice but to face me. Unfortunately, this was real life and I’d had a feeling that if I’d tried, I would’ve just been knocked on my ass.
I kept the message short and to the point.
If you don’t plan on showing Edward the pictures, why won’t you give them to me?
I sucked down more than half my mocha and he still hadn’t answered. Brooding, I drummed my fingers on the table and finished off my drink. Still no answer.
Hmmm…send him another one or just wait?
I couldn’t decide, but I wasn’t going to sit around there, waiting for him to answer either.
Swearing, I threw my phone into my bag and looked around.
I needed to talk to somebody. The first person to come to mind was Kendra. She was my best friend, had been for years. We’d hit it off almost from the time I’d answered her ad for a roommate. But I already knew that she wouldn’t like hearing about yet another episode with Flynn. Our friendship was already stretched tight. We’d had too many disagreements about him already and I needed somebody to listen to me. Not fuss at me and remind me about the bad choices I’d made.
That left only one person.
***
Cody scratched at his bare chest as I pushed past him and walked inside his apartment. Unlike his brothers, his place was comfortable, albeit expensive. He’d obviously decorated himself rather than hiring an interior designer as Edward so clearly had. I was pretty sure Flynn had decorated himself, but his place was a combination of artsy and seductive. Cody’s was just, well, Cody.
He’d been half asleep when I’d called, but when I’d told him I needed to talk, he’d shown me yet again why I loved him so much. He’d mumbled something and then said, “Come on over.”
Now, as I wandered the living room floor, I listened to Cody stumbling around in the kitchen and managed to smile despite my simmering temper. Sometimes, I felt like the best thing that had come from my engagement to Edward had been getting Cody as a brother-in-law.
He was a bit prettier than Edward, but his body was all man. Clear blue eyes, walnut brown hair, and the broadest shoulders I’d ever seen. He was absolutely gorgeous, the perfect model, and gay. The last part had helped a lot when we’d had to pose in some rather awkward positions for Flynn. He’d become one of my closest friends almost immediately.
“Ow…shit…
dammit
!”
I craned my head around in time to see him shoving his hand under the faucet.
“What did you do?” I hurried into the kitchen, worry for him pushing aside my concern for my own problems.
“Burnt my hand.” He shot the coffee pot a dirty look. “Still can’t figure out why we can’t just inject the shit. Seems like it’d be a hell of a lot easier.”
“Well, if you injected it, you’d scald your veins instead of your hand.”
Cody grunted under his breath. “Good point.”
Holding out my hand, I waited.
He sighed and turned off the water. He showed me the burn splotching up the back of his hand, along his wrist. I took his hand in mine and examined the damaged skin.
“It’s not blistering. That’s a good thing.”
“I’ll just put some ice on it.”
“Water’s better.” I smiled. “Mama’s all about the home remedies. Ice isn’t the best thing for burns.”
“Well, I know better than to argue with Mama.” He grabbed a rag and soaked it in the cold water, squeezing the excess out before spreading the rag out over the back of his hand. We sat down at the kitchen table and he gave me a knowing look. “You’re looking pissed off, you know that?”
“I’m…” I swore and shoved back from the table, surging upright to pace. Back and forth, back and forth. I heard Flynn’s voice in my head, all over again. Worse, I felt his lips on mine. Yet another stolen kiss.