Beautiful Boy(8)

"If you'll just excuse us for a moment, we need to get things set up and organized. I hadn't expected you so soon."

Another smile, which revealed perfectly white teeth, spread across his  face. "I understand. It's my fault. I couldn't wait to get here so I  came a little early. I apologize. Oh, and I was told to come without the  legs, but there was no way in hell I was about to roll in here in a  wheelchair. Figured I'd just remove them when you're ready."

"Wait." I held up my hand, halting his escape. "You were told to come here without your legs? Why?"

His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. "I was told you were doing a  spread on the disabled. I'm sorry, I must've misunderstood. I didn't  mean anything by it."

Nolan is such an ass.

"You're fine. And you can keep the legs if you'd like. I mean, it's up  to you how you'd like to be photographed. However, I must say, those are  some pretty fancy feet you have."

His rumbling laugh ran through me, coating me in warmth. "I find them  easier to walk in. And I can run in them, too. Gives me a spring in my  step." He gave us a short demonstration and then turned to leave the  room.

"Hold on. I don't need to set anything up. I know what I want to do. How  comfortable are you being mostly naked around a couple women?"

His broad smile made his eyes twinkle in the overhead light of the studio. "Extremely. What do you have in mind?"

I made quick work of setting up the umbrella lights and organizing a  space against one wall for him to pose by. While I did that, Shari  helped Mike out of his clothes before oiling him up. I didn't even ask  for the oil; she had taken it upon herself to lather him in it.

After a few shots of him, I came up with another idea. "Do you by chance have any objection to posing with someone?"

Mike nodded with a sly, self-assured grin on his face.

"Please pick me," Shari whispered in my ear.

I couldn't help but laugh at her desperate plea. "No shirt, no bra, no  pants. Only your underwear. You okay with that?" I asked her as quietly  as I could, yet Mike must've heard because a growl came from his  direction.

We both turned our heads to see what he'd meant by the throaty grumble,  but before I could ask anything, I noticed the growing bulge between his  legs. It was clear he wasn't disgusted.

Shari didn't hesitate before stripping out of her clothes right there in  the middle of the studio. She sauntered over to him and leaned against  his chest. Her hair hung in luscious waves down her back, and the only  thing I could see on her body was the small strap of her thong.

Mike wrapped his heavily muscled and tattooed arms around her waist and  buried his face in her neck. She tilted her head to the side, allowing  him access.

No direction needed.

I immediately began to aim and zoom, capturing their moment with little  effort. The last picture had been of Mike whispering something in her  ear while she stood with her toned, bare legs between his titanium ones.  He hooked his thumbs beneath the thin elastic bands at her hips, his  eyes meeting the camera lens. The moment the shutter closed, her gasp  rang out into the room.

"That's a wrap," I yelled and headed over to my desk in the corner.  However, they didn't appear to be finished with their private  conversation. Part of me thought about giving them some space, but then  responsibility kicked in. I did not run a whorehouse, nor did I want my  reputation as being the best photographer in Southwest Florida to be  ruined by their lust. "You two can continue this somewhere else. I'm  done for the day."

Shari and Mike finally separated and dressed while I kept my back to  them, busying myself with cleaning my work area. I took care of the  entire cleanup since my assistant had been preoccupied by our client.  Normally, I would've complained, but something about those two left me  unable to argue. I had never seen her act so giddy around a guy before,  and I decided to let her have her fun.         

     



 

I went straight home and immersed myself in finishing all four subjects'  prints. I was so used to tweaking things for others, but when it came  to these people and the photos I'd taken, I decided to only do the  absolute bare minimum. I wanted them to be as natural as possible. And I  couldn't have been happier with how they turned out.

My phone chimed next to me as I put my computer away for the evening.

Asshole: How was Mike?

Me: Amazing

Asshole: Did you have to help him out of his chair?

Me: I sat on his lap and let him fuck me until I couldn't remember my own name.

I shouldn't have responded, but he had me so angered, rational thought flew right out the window.

Asshole: Good to know you like the ones with stumps for legs

Me: How did you even get my number?

Asshole: I'm rather resourceful.

I wanted to reply, to demand answers, but I knew he wasn't worthy of my  time or energy. I also knew there was no way I'd email him my proofs. I  needed to see this fucker face to face and lay it all out on the table  for him. I needed to get this resentment and hatred off my chest, and if  seeing him in person was what I had to do, then so be it.

I turned my phone off and fell asleep, rehearsing the words I'd say to  him once I had my chance to confront him after all this time.





"Shari," I called out once I walked to my desk the next morning. "I need  you to locate Nolan for me. Find out where he works or where I can  ambush that jerk. And I need it before this next shoot is over."

"And what makes you think I can find him?"

"You're like the Google whisperer. I swear, there's nothing you can't  solve on there. In the meantime, I'll handle this session by myself, and  then I'm going to take a very long lunch."

Shari didn't respond, only took the chair and began typing away on the  computer at my desk. Thankfully, my next client didn't take long, and  her session ended earlier than planned, giving me additional time for my  break.

"What did you find out?" Once the model left the building, I made my way to Shari.

She turned around in the chair with a Cheshire grin on her face. "Well,  turns out Mr. Richards runs a local security firm right here in town,  and has an office about ten minutes away on Del Prado. Second floor in  the Brighton building."

"Well, that would explain how he got my phone number."

"Whoa whoa whoa." She stood up and impatiently waved her hand in my face. "Nolan has called you and you didn't tell me?"

"No," I said calmly as I reached around her for my purse. "He didn't  call me. He's texted me a few times. And why would I tell you anything? I  wouldn't be on my way to face him had you not put me in this position  to begin with. I'm still pissed about that, by the way."

Shari caught up to me at the front door, momentarily halting my escape. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to show him the proofs from the weekend. And then I'm going  to tell him what a piece of shit he is right before I tell him to fuck  off."

"I think you need support."

"I think you need to stay here and man the office. I can handle this  without you, thank you very much. You've supported me enough when it  comes to Nolan." I wasn't really mad at Shari. What she did came with  good intentions-unlike Nolan. My anger toward him seemed to have  transferred over to her, and I was too wrapped up in revenge to correct  myself.

Nerves and adrenaline pumped through my veins, causing my hands to shake  on the steering wheel during the entire ten-minute drive to his office.  I then sat in the parking lot, trying to calm myself before getting  out. I even stood in front of the elevators, staring at his name on the  directory for a few minutes too long before finally hitting the up  button. And once the elevator doors opened on the second floor, I was  sure my heart had stopped.

"Welcome to Cape Security, how can I help you?" the young, buxom woman  asked from her seat behind a massive desk outside the elevator banks.

I tapped my fingers against my thigh, nervous flutters spreading through me. "I need to see Nolan Richards, please."

"Do you have an appointment?"

I shook my head, not trusting my unstable voice to come out properly.  The longer I stood there, the worse my panic became until I was left  with the sensation of choking.

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Richards meets by appointment only. I can help you  schedule one if you'd like." The woman seemed nice, but I wasn't about  to let her stand in the way of me and my retribution. This had been  building over the last couple of days, and I wouldn't let anyone get in  the way of the justice needing to be served.         

     



 

I slowly began to back away, and then darted down the long corridor,  hoping the doors had nameplates on them. Her voice rang out behind me,  reiterating that Nolan didn't see walk-ins, but I ignored her.

I picked up the pace in case she came after me. Without a care in the  world that he could be in the middle of a meeting or have guards  surrounding him, I frantically searched for his office. I had something  to say, and no amount of protection would keep him safe from my wrath.