Kept by Him(22)

golden heels, her only cover an earthy cashmere throw that matched her glossy earth-toned lips. In the

background, a winter wonderland showcased enough fake snow to rival an Aspen ski slope.

Monica hadn’t realized how difficult it was for models to look into a camera lens and willingly,

openly transmit their emotions into the lens.

It seemed to be an art—and one at which she was not a natural.

She clutched the cover to her chest and tried to look warm. Chris, an amazingly talented

photographer who always did their most successful ad campaigns, rubbed his bald head in

exasperation a half hour later. “Go for more warmth, soften your expression, Ms. Davenport.”

Monica tried fixing her expression for a couple of more minutes, first and foremost attempting to

calm her frustration, for it didn’t made her feel necessarily warm or giving, much less sensual.

She did her deep breathing exercises, but the more she thought about being closed off, the more she

actually closed off. She didn’t mind being physically naked as much as showing some inner

vulnerability, which she usually dared not show anyone.

“I still need you to relax, Ms. Davenport.”

“Can’t we tweak in Photoshop, Chris?”

“No, Ms. Davenport, it’s your entire expression. It’s too controlled, your jaw is tight. Give me

slackness, part your lips, give me an on-the-beach sensual look while holding the throw tighter.”

Monica tried parting her lips, all while wondering how much they could improve with Photoshop,

when suddenly a dark figure moved through the swinging doors at the end. Monica’s assistant turned,

gasped, and stepped aside to make room for it. Recognition struck Monica and her system froze and

restarted as though the bolt of lightning had struck her dead on her sex.

Her nerve endings trilled with a strange sexual alertness. Daniel came to a stop a few feet away

from the photographer, his feet braced apart, his stance oozing that air of natural authority that always

surrounded him. His shoulders were draped in a dark black button-down shirt that matched his slacks,

and all clad in black, he looked even blonder, tanner, his eyes greener—every feature of his enhanced

and striking.

Instantly, his forest green eyes locked intimately with hers, raking her form almost possessively.

Heat. It spread suddenly all over her and she became hyper-attuned to him. Her awareness of him had

heightened to new levels, and now it was almost painful in its force.

This morning, what they’d done last night had felt surreal. Now her pussy throbbed in memory, still

sore from his touches, becoming strangely even sorer at his presence. Monica had never been more

painfully mindful of how empty she felt inside until she stared at Daniel Lexington across a room full

of dozens of people while desperately, desperately wanting him inside her.

His intense green eyes stayed fastened to hers, only roaming briefly as he once again took

inventory. She became aware of every bit of skin exposed from the cashmere. Her toes, her ankles, a

part of her calf, her rounded shoulders, one of her arms … What was he thinking? Why didn’t he

smile? Oh, God, she felt like one of those women. One of those who dreamed at night of this man, who

dreamed of being the Prince of the Windy City’s princess. The thought snapped her back into herself

only to realize Chris was shouting at the top of his lungs, “Yes! Yes! That’s the look!”

Monica jerked her eyes back to the camera, but her body still ached with such intimate force that

she instinctively drew her arms protectively over her pained breasts, trapping the cashmere against her

flesh, her heart pounding in awareness of Daniel’s green eyes watching her.

The blinding flashes stopped, and Chris lowered the camera with a frown. He seemed somehow

disappointed that she had lost the magic as soon as she glanced at the lens. He turned to study the

source of Monica’s change, and his eyes lit when he spotted Daniel.

“Would you mind if we tried something with you, sir?” he asked.

“Not at all,” Daniel said easily, his voice making Monica’s flesh pebble.

“We need a sweater in his size,” he said, and Monica’s assistant rushed to grant the request.

Meanwhile Monica watched him strip off his shirt, and her pussy clenched despite her wanting to

stay cool and aloof. His chest became exposed, and Monica almost climaxed, visibly jolting at the

sight.

“Forget the sweater, look at this! Bare skin it is!” He began giving orders while Monica and the rest

of the people in the room almost drooled over Daniel’s torso. Thick chords popped up in his hands and

forearms, disappearing into the bulging muscles of his biceps, shoulders, and triceps.