Jill Shalvis - Bared

“Oh, Rafe.” Her smile was sad as she cupped his cheek. “I never really pictured being surrounded by supermodels as tough-but you’re lonely, aren’t you?”

He laughed again. “I’m not that bad off.”

She hugged him hard, anyway. “I can see why you’d want a woman not quite so…ambitious as all the women you deal with.”

“And I want her to want me whether I’m still taking pictures or working bagging groceries. You know, for better or worse.”

Carolyn lay her head on his shoulder. “Have you met her yet?”

Rafe thought of Emma. He knew she didn’t want him for how he made her look on film, but she did want him for how he made her feel physically.

Could there be more?

He thought of her workaholic lifestyle, how she seemed to want to be with him only when he was bringing her pleasure, and his stomach twisted a little.

“No,” he said a little unevenly. “I haven’t met her yet.”

RAFE WENT INTO THE STUDIO they’d rented for the next two shoots, both of which were indoors. First up, a schoolgirl shot, followed by a nurse shot-two of the most popular men’s fantasies, according to recent polls. And for the first time since Rafe had started this calendar, he hoped it was Amber who showed up.

Amber, he could ignore.

With Amber, he could avoid being sidetracked by any unwanted attraction.

Amber, whom he could send home afterward and forget about.

“We’re ready.” Stone had set up the lighting and cameras. “I figure if we do it right, we can get both these shoots today. What do you think?”

What did he think? That he wished he was at home being bitched at by Puddles for more food, that he was working in his darkroom…anything. Hell, even pulling the weeds in the front yard would be better than this.

Stone took one last look at their set, a mock-up of a school hallway, complete with lockers, and nodded. “I’ll go get her.”

“You’ve seen her already, then?”

Stone stopped and eyed his longtime friend. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I have. She’s in makeup with Jen.”

“And…”

Stone looked amused. “And what?”

“Damn it, which one is she?”

Stone looked him over for another moment. “Which one were you hoping for?”

Rafe stared at him, then let out a breath. “I haven’t a frigging clue.”

Now Stone grinned. “Sure you do. Amber is gorgeous, feisty, hot and a pain in the ass. She’s also possibly certifiable. But Emma…” He arched his brows. “Brains and looks. And while not a pain in the ass or certifiable, she scares you to death. So my guess would be, given the look in your eyes, you’re hoping for Amber.” He crossed his arms and cocked his head. “How am I doing?”

Rafe turned away. “Just go get her.”

Stone laughed. “Pretty good, I’m guessing.”

Two minutes later he was back, with their model for the day. Rafe was turned away from them, messing with the camera that was already perfectly set up, and not until Stone called out “Ready” did he turn and look.

Her long hair had been divided into two braids. She wore a white button-down shirt, crisply ironed and completely unbuttoned, revealing a white crop top beneath. Her black-and-white plaid skirt was wraparound and so short he couldn’t imagine it fully covered her butt in the back, but since he couldn’t see, he couldn’t be sure. She wore white knee socks, one pushed down, the other up to her knee, and black clunky boots. The epitome of the naughty schoolgirl.

He’d avoided looking into her face, but he looked now, and his heart took one quick heavy kick.

Emma.

Stone’s pager went off. He looked down at the pager, took in the message and swore.

Rafe jerked his head toward Stone, and at the look on his friend’s face, his stomach dropped. “No.”

“Sorry, buddy.” Stone grimaced. “Crystal’s in labor. Gotta run.”

Rafe knew Stone’s sister hadn’t planned the worst possible moment to go into labor on purpose, but the timing couldn’t have been more off. “But-”

“I’ll call you,” Stone said, and he left.

The door to the studio closing seemed extraordinarily loud.

“Where do you want me?” Emma asked softly when the awkward silence had gone on for nearly a full minute.

“Where do I want you?” He looked at her from beneath heavy lidded eyes, wondering how the hell he was supposed to answer that question without sending her running.

“For the shot,” she clarified.

“Ah. For the shot.”

“You do need it, right?”

“Sure. But why isn’t Amber here, Emma?”

“She’s…busy.”

“Really? Because I know she’s back in the country. She called Stone. She could have come, but she didn’t. I find that fascinating.”

“I…” She let out a pent-up breath, and that, of course, drew his eyes to her breasts, which were nearly popping out of the crop top.

His body twitched. Damn it.

“I thought I should come,” she whispered, and tugged at the short, short skirt.

“More research today? For your work?”

“I wanted…to thank you for dinner that night in Tahoe.”

“Thank me.” He laughed. “You wanted to thank me for feeling you up at the table?”

She crossed her arms, which only plumped up those mouthwatering breasts all the more. “You’re still mad at me.”

“Mad?” He shook his head. “No.”

“Then, why are you pouting?”

“Pouting?”

“Sulking, then.”

“I’m doing no such thing.”

“Look, maybe we should just do this.”

He knew what he wanted to do. Her. “Fine. Get up against the lockers, lean in close like you’re going to kiss ’em, stick your ass out and look back at me over your shoulder.”

“All business?” she asked softly.

It was that or grab her. “All business.”

But he hadn’t counted on having to put his camera down and walk up to her, leaning so enticingly on the lockers, so he could drape her hair over her bare shoulder-bare because the white shirt had slipped off one side. She gleamed and sparkled from whatever lotion they’d put on her. He’d been wrong about the skirt-it just covered her ass and was slightly crooked. He put his hands on her hips and adjusted it, ignoring her quickened breathing. That didn’t work so he had to tug on the hem, which had his fingers brushing the very bottom of her sweet cheeks.

She let out a sound that had him jerking his gaze to hers, but she didn’t look at him. She just stared at the lockers, her chest rising and falling rapidly, as if she could barely stand it.

Join the club, baby, he thought grimly. Without a word, he went back to his camera and starting shooting, talking to her only when necessary. She never loosened up, not as he’d been able to coax her to do on the other shoots, but today he just didn’t have it in him.

Some professional.

“Turn toward me,” he instructed. “Hands flat on the lockers at your side. Tilt your head down, eyes up at me.”

Without a word, she did, and he took those shots, too. Her slight stiffness actually worked in his favor-she was the slightly shy, slightly reticent, outrageously sexy schoolgirl. It was wrong, but he wanted her, wanted so damn much. By the time he put the camera down, his fingers were shaking.

“Is that it?” she asked, still against the lockers.

“That’s it.”

She pushed away and walked toward him, every sway of her hips a slam to his gut.

“What are you doing?” he asked, and backed up a step.

She didn’t stop until their toes touched. “I didn’t like that.”

“I didn’t, either.”

She cocked a hip and looked at him from carefully made-up eyes. “I don’t like you, either.”

“Ditto,” he said tightly.

“But I’ve never wanted you more,” she said in a frustrated voice.

Thank God. They lunged at each other.

THEY COULDN’T GET AT EACH OTHER fast enough. Rafe slammed his mouth down on Emma’s, open and hot and hungry. Given the sexy little growl that came from her throat, she felt the same way he did. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, just as he cupped a sweet, warm, rounded cheek in each hand and ground her against him.

Baby, oh baby, it was just what the doctor had ordered.

His head was still spinning. Just a moment before, he’d been furious with her, furious and desperate with the excitement she always stirred within him just beneath the surface, and now here she was, arching against him, opening her legs up even wider, which had her short skirt hiked up around her waist, leaving nothing but his jeans and her thin panties as barriers. When she rocked against him, he staggered, and might have dropped them both to the floor if he hadn’t backed to the wall to use it as support.

Her fingers tangled in his hair and held his head for her mouth. Her legs were stronger than he could have imagined, gripping around him so that he couldn’t leave.

As if he wanted to.

When she arched into him again releasing a helpless whimper into his mouth, he nearly whimpered back because he couldn’t touch her, holding her up as he was; he couldn’t get to her the way he wanted to. Instead he staggered away from the wall and carried her into the open prop room. Kicking the door closed with his foot, he reversed their positions, turning them so that she was the one with her back to the wall. Now he could thrust against her in mindless abandon. With her skirt bunched up around her waist and his fingers inside the back of her panties, the apex of her legs cradling his sex like a hot glove, he could hardly stand it.

Bracing her against the wall, he tugged the white button-down shirt off her shoulders, then slid the twin thin straps of her crop down as well. Since she didn’t have on a bra, her breasts spilled free, her nipples already tight and puckered. Even that wasn’t enough, so he reached down and dragged her panties aside. Wrenching his mouth free from hers, he looked at her glorious body. The erotic way he’d exposed her made him groan.

“You are so beautiful.”

She was writhing against him, making those sexy little noises in her throat, her lush breasts against his chest, gripping him for all she was worth.

“Rafe. God, Rafe, how do you do this to me every time?”

Just the way she said his name made him want to come, but he managed a low laugh. “What I’m doing to you…? Baby, it’s the other way around. You’re killing me, just killing me.”

Now she was nibbling at his throat, taking hot bites out of him, each one making his hard-on twitch. He was pressed between her legs as they moved their hips, rubbing, rubbing, rubbing in slow circles that were going to drive him right out of his mind.

“More,” she panted, and pulled his T-shirt up so that her breasts brushed against his bare chest.

His knees went a little wobbly-more so when she tried to work open the buttons on his Levi’s.

“You want to come again, Emma? With me?”

“Yes!” Her fingers fumbled ineffectively on his jeans.

Reaching in, he helped her, their fingers tangling together until the jeans were open, a huge relief as they’d been cutting off his circulation since the moment she’d walked into the studio. His penis jutted out from his shorts hopefully while she continued to move those hips, driving them both closer to the brink.

“Rafe-” She pushed at his jeans, tugged at his shorts. “In me,” she gasped. “Inside me now.”

He wrapped a fist around himself and poised at her slick entrance before he remembered and went still.

“Rafe?”

“No condom,” he said roughly.

Her eyes opened and she looked at him in trembly dismay. “No.”

He could only shake his head.

“I’m going to cry,” she whispered.

Slowly he released her legs. Then, holding her gaze, he dropped to his knees. He put his hands beneath her skirt and pushed it up. Kissed one thigh, then the other.

Then between.

Her head thunked back against the door. “Rafe-”

He kissed her again.

Then he used his tongue.

Her knees buckled, but he held her up, and when she shattered, he let her fall into his arms.

IT TOOK HER A MOMENT to regain control of her senses, but when she did, she felt the tension that remained in his big, rigidly controlled body. “I want to nibble, too.” She dropped a kiss on his right pec, over his T-shirt. With one hand on his arm, restraining him, she used her other to shove up his shirt. He was all sinewy and hard flesh, and when she put her lips just above his nipple, his muscles quivered. He let out a sound-a rough one that thrilled her-and lifted his hands toward her.

Catching them, she set them at his side and looked up at him. “No touching.” She added a smile. “You’ve watched me go wild for you. I want to watch you go wild for me for a change.”