“When my air conditioner is on the fritz in the dead of summer…yes.”
Finn whistled under his breath. “You look gorgeous, as always.” He gave her a kiss on both cheeks, then took her in from head to toe one more time, making her breath catch and her clit tingle. Finn had a way of devouring her with his eyes that made her want to strip down to nothing and let him feast on her.
“Looks like my timing is perfect,” he said. “I come bearing a gift you’re going to want.”
“Please,” she said in a teasing voice as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Dicks are a dime a dozen in this town. And it’s too hot to fuck anyway.”
He chuckled. “You may change your mind about that when you see what I brought for you.”
She’d noticed he pulled an enormous cooler-on-wheels behind him. Her attention shifted to it.
“They let you into the elevator with that monstrosity?”
“The appropriate question is, how the hell did it fit?”
She stepped out of the way, pulling the door fully open so Finn and his traveling ice chest could enter the condo.
“Whatever you’ve got in mind,” she said as she closed the door behind him and followed him into the living room, “must involve something that’s going to cool us off.”
Finn shot another sexy, wicked grin over his shoulder. “Or steam the place up.” He winked at her.
Yvette felt that familiar flash of heat and desire Finn sparked so easily. He was sexy in an edgy way that suggested he knew how to fuck a girl until she was fully sated. Yet could instantly have her begging for more, because she really couldn’t get enough of him. He had obsidian-colored hair that was always a bit tousled, like he ran his hands through it in contemplation while he worked. Or he’d just tumbled out of bed after a quick romp. His eyes were warm and inviting. His smile was wickedly delicious. And his body…. Tall, muscular and downright tempting!
They had yet to do the dirty deed, despite years of flirting. Both she and Finn were workaholics, with little time for romance and dating. Finn was consumed by his art, which included traditional paintings on canvas, as well as amazingly creative body art on nude models.
His human murals were on display once a month at Body Scenes, an exclusive nightclub and high-end art gallery that was strictly invitation-only. Yvette had taken her newly divorced friend, Annabelle, to one of Finn’s showings at the beginning of the summer. Finn had been minus a female model for one of his masterpieces and Annabelle had agreed to let Finn paint her. It’d been an erotic mural. Three men and one woman. Cocks filling Annabelle in an arousing way that had made Yvette a tad disappointed she hadn’t been in her friend’s place.
But Yvette had yet to acquiesce to Finn’s dozens of requests to let him paint her. She’d been waiting for that one special idea, that flash of inspiration that would capture her in a unique way. For Yvette, body paint wasn’t it.
Not that she didn’t find the pieces brilliant. She just wanted something different. Something that portrayed her true spirit, the essence of who she really was. Perhaps it was an intentional challenge she’d issued for Finn.
As she watched him now, moving with stealthy fluidity that screamed cocksure arrogance and bad-boy wickedness, anticipation of exciting things to come—hopefully her!—zinged through her. He dragged her coffee table farther away from the sofa and carefully placed his shoulder bag on it. Quickly removing two cameras, he outfitted both of them, then played around with the lighting in the room before using the digital single lens reflex camera to take several test shots.
Yvette’s curiosity mounted. What was he up to?
Finally, he grabbed her by the hand and directed her to the sofa, where she sat still while he took more test shots with the DSLR. When he stepped back and viewed the shots on the miniature screen on the camera, he nodded, then shook his head, then nodded again.
Yvette said, “If you tell me I look like a whale on film, I’m going to kick your sorry ass right out of my condo.”
He lifted his gaze and grinned. “Live solely off fast food for a year and then you might have a problem.” He eyed her body in a slow, appreciative way, his eyes lingering on her breasts, the tops of which spilled out of her demi bra. “Trust me, you’re a knockout, doll. The problem is the lighting. Not exactly optimal, but this photo shoot is just so you don’t have to pose for hours on end.”
“That’s good news. You know I have the attention span of a gnat. Plus, I’ve got three columns and six blogs due this week.” She’d carved out a nice little niche for herself both in print and on the Internet as an avant-garde art and food expert. Another reason she and Finn had likely never hooked up. She was too busy playing Queen of the Mountain, with an endless stream of competition trying to knock her off the top.