Melt Me(3)
“Despite the lighting, this room will do nicely,” he commented as he eyed the sofa with the cream-colored sheet draped sloppily over it, creating ripples of satin amidst a sea of purple velvet. “Your setup is perfect.”
“Just trying to chill out,” she said. Dying to know what was in the ice chest, she added, “What, exactly, do you have in mind for this evening and what makes you think I’m going to go along with it?”
Finn set aside his camera. He plunged his hands in the front pockets of his black-as-night jeans and gave her a coy smile, his dark brows lifting suggestively. “Because you like being naughty.”
Her teeth clamped down on her lower lip as excitement shot through her again. Her nipples were already hard. They seemed to get harder. Tightening in an almost unbearable way. Drawing her attention to them, along with their need to be rolled between his fingers and thumbs. Suckled in his mouth. Flicked by his tongue. Scraped gently by his teeth.
A prickle of arousal danced along her clit as she lifted her gaze and asked, “You really think you know what I like?”
“Oh yeah.” He kept his hands in his pockets. Didn’t move an inch. Just eyed her with a sinfully hot look that made her pulse jump. “I was sitting at home the other day, trying to sketch out a new body art mural, but all I could think about was you. Sweaty and slick from this ridiculous heat wave we’re having. And then it hit me. The perfect thing to cool you down while heating up my canvases.”
She squirmed a little on the plump cushion, her arousal making her a bit uncomfortable. In a good way, of course. Anticipation mingled with a need that had been burning bright for years, since the first day she’d met Finn Griffith. Would it finally be sated tonight?
Yvette said, “If this involves putting my clothes back on, you can forget it.”
He laughed. “No, doll. I need you just like that.”
“Hmm. Fortuitous.”
“You said it. Now here’s what I’m thinking. Four scenes—I’ve already figured out the poses for each one. I know you used to model so this should be a breeze for you.”
“It’s been awhile, Finn,” she said, not exactly thrilled to admit she was thirty-one, not twenty-one. Even if she was only admitting it to herself.
He scoffed. “I’ve watched you in the club, Yvette. You’re a natural. You probably pose in your sleep.”
She couldn’t argue with that one. It was likely true. “So what’s in it for me? You get a model and more artwork to sell at Body Scenes. What do I get out of this?” She knew exactly what she wanted and wouldn’t settle for anything less. Not tonight.
She wanted Finn. Finally stripping down with her. Touching her naked body with his mouth and hands. Sliding his thick cock into her wet cunt, thrusting deep, fucking her hard.
It was all she could do to keep from begging for it.
She’d only been teasing when she’d claimed dicks were a dime a dozen in this town. In her opinion, there weren’t any attached to such a devilishly handsome man. And she no longer considered it too hot to fuck. She had no qualms about steaming up the windows with Finn! Had to fan herself with her hand, in fact, as her cheeks flushed at how badly she wanted it. Wanted him.
He said, “Given your current predicament, how about I put you up at the Ritz Carlton ’til your cooler is fixed? You can turn the air on so high, you’ll need to light a fire in the fireplace to take off the chill. Unlimited champagne, strawberries and room service. Knock your socks off, babe.”
A tempting offer. But Yvette could afford all of that on her own. “Hardly incentive.”
Finn grinned. “I’ll be there with you.” His brows lifted again as he said, “With a box of condoms.”
“Oh,” she said on a lusty sigh. “That’s a horse of a different color.”
“Tired of us pussy-footing around,” he said, looking as uncomfortable as she felt. All because of the sizzling chemistry they shared, which they had yet to act upon. “I’ve become the poster child for blue balls because of you.”
She made a soft tsking sound. “Poor Finn. We can’t have that.”
Though, if there were such a phrase related to women being all twisted in knots over not getting it, she’d be his poster counterpart.
“Plus,” Finn continued the negotiations, “I donate a portion of the proceeds to the models’ favorite charities when the pieces sell. Ten percent.”
“I support the homeless shelters,” Yvette told him. “Twenty-five percent for the worthy cause.”
He laughed good-naturedly as he shook his head. “Highway robbery.”