Reluctant Substitute (excerpt)

Title : Reluctant Substitute

Release date : Available now (purchase link under "Books" heading)

EXCERPT ...

But, after I changed into the last outfit---a lacy black push up bra, black G-string, and black lace garter attached to the lacy tops of my thigh highs---and returned to the studio, Mr. Connors was on his cell phone.

“Okay---yeah---I got it---I’m going to have to be the one to stand in at this short notice---oh, you better believe you’ll be making it worth my while---it’s not something I’ve done for a long time, nor do I particularly want to revisit doing it---I’ll be emailing you the invoice later this afternoon.”

Why did hearing his end of the phone conversation, suddenly have the effect of releasing a thousand butterflies to swirl around inside my stomach? When he ended the call, he turned, and faced me.

“Miss Walker, we’ll get the shots done that you’re accustomed to first, because you have those ones down to absolute perfection. Then, we have a few unexpected shots to take that my client has just requested.”

I didn’t like the sound of that, at all.

“Unexpected---how?” I questioned him cautiously, narrowing my eyes.

“Get these ones done first---I’ll fill you in shortly,” he grinned playfully, unnerving me.

Facing the mirror put me at a distinct disadvantage. I couldn’t see what was going on behind me, but I could hear something was. I was almost curious enough to turn around, but at the slightest flinch of my muscles, Andre barked at me to stay still. He was getting as bossy as Mr. Connors.

When Andre finished, he busied himself on the computer screen located just to the side of all his photographic equipment he had set up to take the afternoons shots. Mr. Connors approached me, and an uneasy feeling began to build in my stomach.

“I know this is asking a lot, considering you’re already saving my ass doing what you’ve done today, but as I’ve already told you, my client has requested a few extra shots.”

The wary look in my eye had him reaching out with one hand. The moment his fingertips touched my skin, my lower stomach tightened, and dampness increased between the softness of my thighs. I couldn’t concentrate---then his fingers wrapped around my arm, and his thumb gently rubbed back, and forth, caressing just above my right elbow.

Damn him, now I wasn’t focused on what he was saying, at all---the only thought inside my head was how electric his touch was---like a live wire jolting my senses. Then, I thought I heard the word topless.

“What?” I gasped, not sure if I heard him correctly.

“I said---how do you feel about being photographed topless?”

At the horrified expression descending through my face, he hurriedly added more information to his question.

“Oh---don’t worry---not a frontal view---just of your bare back.”

Topless? Standing in front of the mirror? Where he can see what the camera can’t? I don’t think so! I was already way out of my comfort zone, and going topless was absolutely, and totally, out of the question.

“No.” I answered straight away. I saw he was a little taken aback at my blunt, and adamant refusal of his request.

“Why not?” he questioned. My mouth gaped open.

“Are you kidding me? No way am I standing in front of a mirror…”

He interrupted my little tirade, holding up his left hand, while he smirked light-heartedly.

“You won’t be standing in front of the mirror for this shot,” he promised.

I thought about it. What in the hell am I thinking about it for? Have I gone completely fucking insane? But, he did say the shot would be taken from the back view. My bare breasts will not be appearing in any picture---and not standing in front of the mirror, I can keep at least a little of my modesty---but, fucking hell---he was asking a hell of a lot.

I carefully studied his face. He was still smirking, and I was sure there was something he wasn’t telling me---but I didn’t know him well enough to know if my feeling was right, or not. But, the butterflies now whipping up a storm in my stomach, wouldn’t be quieted. Something wasn’t right about this last minute request, and I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously.

“Is that it? Just a photograph of my bare back? Without showing anything else?”

“Just with one added prop,” he answered evasively.

Okay---a prop. I know what a prop is. What harm can a prop do? With an exaggerated sigh, I ultimately consented.

“Fine---but only one prop.” I emphasized.

He nodded at Andre, and a salacious smirk began to curl his lips up. He dragged me over to a space with a black wall as a backing, where Andre was hurriedly setting up his tripod, and silver umbrella thing.

“This is how I need you to stand,” he directed, while he proceeded to move me slightly away from the black wall, and turned me a little to the right. He was standing between me, and the wall. “Ready, yet, Andre?” he asked over my shoulder.

“Give me a minute, Mr. Connors.”

He began to gently rub his palm up, and down, my forearm when he leaned in, and whispered heatedly in my ear.

“Your bra doesn’t have to be removed until he’s ready, okay? He shouldn’t be too much longer.”

I felt my skin heating underneath his palm. Why does he have to touch me? With him standing so close to me, all I could smell was his delicious aftershave. It was having a detrimental effect on my brain, and his touch was increasing my heart rate, and the dampness between my legs.

“Ready, now, Mr. Connors.” Andre called out from behind me. He leaned in, to speak low in my ear.

“I’ll just unhook your bra,” What? “You can hold the cups around your breasts if you prefer, but I’ll need to slide the straps off your arms, okay?”

I gulped, and slowly nodded, while I firmly clutched the cups of the bra to my breasts with each hand. He reached around me, pressing his length along the front of me. His chest trapped my hands around my breasts, squashing them between our bodies. I felt his heat on the back of my hands, and my breathing started to shallow.

I closed my eyes, and took an unashamedly large whiff of his cologne when his head leaned over my shoulder, bringing his neck so tantalizingly close to my lips, and nose.

My tongue darted out, and wet my bottom lip, before my teeth clamped down on it, stifling an erotic moan that was making its way up my throat. I felt the back clasps of the bra loosen, right before I no longer felt the straps at all, and I opened my eyes when he straightened up again.

“I need to remove it now, Miss Walker,” he grinned wickedly.

He does? Why can’t I do it?

“Why do you need to remove it? I’m quite able to do that without your help.” My face heated, and he quietly chuckled.

“I will remove it, while you raise your right leg, and hook your foot around the back of my thigh, just above my knee. I want your garter strap stretched tautly along the back of your thigh.”

Whoa---hang on a minute! What did he just say?

“What do you mean hook my foot around your leg? I thought I was going to have a prop?” I exclaimed.

“I’m the prop, Miss Walker,” he said matter-of-factly.

I was flabbergasted---totally in shock. And before I knew it, my bra was discarded, and he was grinning seductively down at me.

“Hook your leg, Miss Walker---or we could be here all day,” he said dryly.

He grabbed my left butt cheek in his very firm grasp, and tugged me hard against him. I crashed awkwardly into his athletic frame. He cocked one brow at me.

“Your leg, Miss Walker.” Oh, my fucking, God.

I tentatively raised my leg up to hook my heel around behind his knee---and suddenly realized I was still wearing the steel coated stilettos. I edged my foot up a little higher, while he slid his hand gradually lower, until his palm cupped the lower curve of my ass. He held it so exquisitely, I almost sighed with desire, for a moment, forgetting I was going to make him pay for doing this to me.

Years of horse riding had strengthened my legs, both my thighs, and my calves, and if I wanted, I could trap someone between them enough to make it hurt.

And right at this moment---I wanted to make Mr. Connors hurt.

I clenched my leg tightly, digging the steel stiletto in the back of his upper thigh. I knew I achieved my goal when I saw his eyes register the brief pain.

Then the hand he had on the rounded curve of my ass disappeared, and I was elated that I at least had a little victory over him---until his hand returned, and slapped down hard over my exposed butt cheek, the sting unbelievably painful, yet at the same time, confusingly pleasurable, as I cried out.

“Ow!”

“Tsk---tsk---tsk, Miss Walker---now I have to try and cover that reddening hand print on your ass, so it doesn’t show up in the photograph. You will have to turn slightly more to the right.”

What? No! If I do that, the curve of my right breast will show.

“But…”

“You only have yourself to blame for that, Miss Walker. Tit for tat.”

Then he chuckled at his use of words, while I scowled angrily up at him.

“I can stand here with your body pressed up against mine all day if I have to, Miss Walker. Can you say the same?” He lifted his brow as if waiting for me to answer him, but his hand was now caressing where he slapped me.

He was doing it so sensually, my nipples were hardening, and my heart rate was climbing through the roof---and with dismay, I also felt the building wetness gathering between my parted legs. God damn him! It’s like he can read my body like an open book.

Then my eyes widened in surprise, and I yanked my head up to look him in the eye when I felt the hardening of his cock, pressing right along the length of my pussy. Holy shit! With my leg up around his like it was, he had clear, and unobstructed access to my whole pussy. I gasped when he rocked his hips slightly forward, and from the lascivious grin on his lips, he knew damn well he’d just hit the right spot.

“Well---can you, Miss Walker?”

“Can we just get this over with?” I bit out through clenched teeth.

My body was starting to heat way too much being pressed up so hard against him, and I couldn’t fight that kind of raw masculinity for too much longer. I needed to get away from him, and if the only way I could do that was to get this shoot over, and done with, then I would just have to do it. A series of flashes went off in quick succession.

“Next one, Mr. Connors.” I heard Andre’s voice behind me.

What next one---what the hell is he on about? I was under the impression this was the last one. With a devilish smirk, Mr. Connors whispered hotly in my ear once more.

“Last one, Miss Walker,” he crooned seductively. “Unhook your leg, and straighten it---but I want your opposing leg bent into mine---the top of your thigh resting against mine.”

My eyelids started to become heavy, closing slightly, while my skin goosed up feeling his heated breath. His hand was firmly kneading the rounded edge of my ass, and feeling the hardened length of him heating my pussy, almost had me bursting into flames.

“You have to stand straight on---pressed up against my front.”

A quiet moan of anguish passed through my lips. Being in the position we just had to pose in, had inflamed my body so much already---and now he wants me pressed full on, and frontal, up against him? I tried to stem the erratic beating of my heart, but I just couldn’t manage it. His hand left the lower curve of my ass, and he took a step back.

“I just have to remove my jacket for this one.”

I immediately brought my hands up to cover my breasts, and I hoped like hell that’s all he was going to be removing, because my body was heated enough as it was. His deepening green eyes held mine captive, while he shrugged out of his jacket, and the heat I saw in them had me imagining it was his hands encompassing my breasts.

I felt my nipples responding to that thought, hardening against the palms of my hands. I eased off the pressure of my hold, and just ever so slightly, grazed my palms across the elongating tips. I couldn’t help the quiet groan I released, as a pleasurable tingle from that slight movement made them harden even more, and my eyelids briefly closed, while my clit pulsed hard with need. Fuck---what the hell is this man doing to me?

When I forced my eyes to open, my face inflamed at the lazy grin on his lips, while he was loosening his tie to hang down the front of his shirt.

Oh, God---he heard that? His eyes flicked down to where my hands were holding my breasts, and I just knew he also noticed what I just did. His quiet chuckle of acknowledgement only served to inflame my face even more, and I squeezed my eyes shut, and pressed my hands more firmly into my breasts. God damn it! He definitely noticed!

Trying to remain aloof, and professional around this man, is an impossible task. Dangerous Alison! Dangerous! Dangerous! Dangerous!

© Copyright Carol Delmornay 2017

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