Exposure (6 page)

"This is really good. I think you need to
chip in now and again on our weekly dinners."

Breathing out a laugh, he began to eat.
"It's not bad. Not as good as Mom's."

She couldn't imagine his loss. They'd been
together in his dorm room sophomore year when he'd gotten the call
that his parents had died. He'd been understandably devastated. "Do
you have a lot of her old recipes? I could make some of her dishes
if you want."

The look he gave her had all that old
turmoil resurfacing. He blinked it away. "That would be nice," he
said roughly.

After a few more spoonfuls, she grabbed a
slice of bread and shifted the conversation. "About Hoan. Did you
really want to set up a show or was that just a means to…other
things?"

He stilled, staring into his bowl before
carefully setting down his spoon and meeting her gaze. "Those other
things being me wanting you beneath me while I pound into you and
having you scream my name? Those other things?"

The breath left her lungs and damn if she
didn't get damp between her legs. "You don't mince words."

"I don't see the point. I told you what I
wanted. I can finally be honest in my desire to have you. I don't
think you understand just how frustrating the past ten years have
been."

He shook his head and took a sip of wine
while she focused on drawing in oxygen.

Setting his glass down, he pushed away his
empty bowl. "I'm more than willing to do an exhibit at Elements any
time you want, with the understanding that my agent represent me at
the show. Hoan doesn't do appearances."

"You always come to my events."

"As Noah, and I'll be there on Hoan's night.
As Noah."

She still couldn't grasp what was so
important about the secrecy, but she nodded, trusting him. "Okay.
I'll have Nicole check our schedule and see when would work for
both of us. Do you have any pieces ready?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and
leaned back. "Several." The pause was lengthy and she could see he
wanted to say more. Glancing up at the ceiling, he sighed and then
returned his blue gaze to hers. "I want you to pose for me."

"What?"

"I've imagined it in my head a thousand
times. My ultimate muse. Your black hair against a snowy backdrop.
I have several places in mind, several poses."

She snapped her mouth shut. "I'm not a
model." She was attractive, sure. But sexy in the way he wanted
from his girls? Not a chance.

"Most of my models weren't professional when
they posed. Some I stumbled on in my travels and went with it."

"No, Noah. I'm not…I hate the idea." To be
the focus of all those eyes when the photos went public, to be the
center of all that unwanted attention made a violent shiver tear
through her body.

He shrugged. "I have a month to change your
mind."

And that was the other thing. But first…"Do
you sleep with all your models?"

"Not all, no. The women I've been with, the
ones from around here, were a one night only deal. I couldn't risk
anything long term to draw suspicion to them. You're a friend and
were around before…" He shook his head. "Hoan's arrangements are
different. The shoots take a week or two, and he's under an
undisclosed identity. I could be a little more lax with him."

Her head was spinning and it wasn't from the
wine. "Lax, how?"

Frustration marred his brow, his patience
waning. "They all signed confidentiality agreements and never knew
me as Noah. When,
if
I took them to bed, I had the
opportunity to have a week or two with them before parting."

She nodded as if this all made sense. It
didn't.

He stood and collected their dishes. "Take
your wine over by the fire. I'll get this cleaned up and be right
in."

Manners had her wanting to argue and help
him clear the table, but she wasn't sure what to make of their
conversation and needed a moment. Picking up her glass, she made
her way over to the balcony doors next to the stone fireplace. The
flames crackled and hissed, creating warmth to contrast the drafty
hardwood floors.

Unable to sit, she looked out past the
balcony at Mount Spurr's range. From this distance and so high up,
the appearance seemed like they were at peak level. On top of the
world. Which just made it that much easier to crash down.

What in the hell was she doing here? With
Noah, of all people? Solid, stable, perfect for her peace of mind,
Noah. Had she ever really known him at all? Was everything they'd
shared all these years just a means to sex? The kind of sex she
couldn't possibly give him.

A tight band squeezed her throat, making her
head pound and her vision sway. Her chest constricted. She couldn't
draw air.

Then Noah was behind her, taking the wine
from her hand and setting it aside. She leaned back into him, into
his irresistible heat to stop the tremors. Solid hands dropped on
her shoulders, kneading the tense muscles and easing the edges of
panic from her body. His thumbs traced up the curve of her neck and
into her hair.

He leaned closer, his breath hot against her
jaw. "Breathe, baby. It's just me. Breathe."

Yes, it was just Noah. Noah was safety.

But he'd called her baby. A pet name or term
of endearment he'd never used.

She sucked in a lungful of air and held it
precious seconds before exhaling. He smelled like cinnamon and a
trace of spicy aftershave, the scent equally a turn on and a
comfort.

His hand trailed over her ribs and around
her body, drawing her closer to him. The hard ridge of his erection
pressed into her backside and the realization of the past week
caught up to her. In a daze, everything that happened seemed like a
story in a book, not her life. Reality, her reality, never unfolded
like this. Handsome billionaire artists didn't sweep her off her
feet, write her scorching secret admirer letters, and claim they
wanted to ravage her body from top to bottom.

Not even when that person was her best
friend.

Slowly, he turned her around and, with hands
on her hips, backed her up against the balcony doors. The cool
glass behind her and the heat in front was an electrifying
contrast. He pressed in closer, trapping her with hard muscle and
enough testosterone to melt her panties.

Never taking his gaze from hers, he went in
for the kill. She let her lids drift shut, waiting for his kiss,
heart pounding in anticipation. Her fingers clutched the soft
cotton of his tee, bunching the material in her fists trapped
between their bodies. She tilted her head, offering herself to him
in a way she had never done for anyone else.

Seconds ticked by. When he brushed his nose
with hers, she opened her eyes and knew he was patiently waiting
for…something. What?

"Say yes, Raven. See that it's me and say
yes."

As if there was any other option.

"Yes."

T
he
yes
from
her lips nearly brought him to his knees, but Noah forced his body
to slow down and take her mouth with the time he wanted to give the
rest of her body.

Brushing his lips across hers, he smiled
when her sigh mingled with his. Applying more pressure, he licked
the seam of her mouth and coaxed entry. Hesitant at first, as if
she'd never kissed before, she trembled against him. After a brief
moment, she softened and opened. The second their tongues met,
sanity was a memory.

He dove in, exploring her in ways he'd only
fantasized. She met him match for match, warring for possession of
the kiss. The taste of the wine she drank hit his tongue, the scent
of rain floated in his head. Fuck. He knew she'd be his downfall.
He pressed his hips to hers, pinning her to the balcony door and
sliding his hands under her sweater, up her sides to brush his
thumbs over her bra. Soft satin against his rough, callused
hands.

She moaned, arching into his touch and
fisting her fingers in his hair.

Much as he wanted to strip her bare and do
this up against the glass, he needed her horizontal and needed it
now. Or yesterday. Or, hell, for years.

Grabbing the backs of her thighs, he lifted
her. Without breaking the kiss, she wrapped her legs around his
hips and ground her heat into his erection through their clothing.
The sensation brought new meaning to seeing stars.

Blind, he stumbled across the living room
floor, debated whether to give up and lay her out right there, and
climbed the step leading to his master bedroom. Feet dragging on
the carpet, he pulled his mouth from hers to breathe and shoved his
face into the crook of her neck.

Smells so good
.

They fell sideways onto the bed, him on top,
and her black as midnight hair spread over his white duvet. The
sight brought a lump to his throat. He wanted his camera almost as
much as he wanted her. He leaned down to kiss her again when she
stilled under him, brown eyes wide in…

Fear? What could he possibly have done to
put panic in her eyes?

"Raven?"

She made a sound of duress and scrambled out
from under him, to the headboard and off the bed, backing herself
against the wall. Though her hands trembled, she fisted them in an
apparent attempt to stop. It wasn't working.

On his knees, he froze with his palms raised
in the universal gesture for
I give.

Seconds ticked by. Painful, confusing
seconds. The blood roaring through his veins and his still hard
erection made thought obsolete. But as time passed, his brain
started clicking. Desire melded into worry and morphed into
rage.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and pressed a
palm to her forehead, avoiding his gaze.

"Don't be sorry. Explain." Because if she
didn't start talking soon, he was going on a rampage of epic
proportions. Starting with every man she ever fucked, until he
found the one who'd done this to her. Women didn't go from white
hot need to blinding terror without a reason.

Closing her eyes, she blew out a breath.
"Wait here a minute. I'll be right back."

When his jaw dropped, she stepped from the
room. He sat back on his haunches, trying but failing to process.
When she came back, she clutched her purse to her chest. Shifting
position, he sat on the edge of the bed and glanced around.

Yeah, everything looked the same, so why did
it feel like he'd stepped in an alternate version of reality? It
had to be the fact that he'd finally had his hands on her only to
be yanked up short. Or just seeing her standing in his intimate
space, where no other woman had ever been, could be the
culprit.

"You asked if I was a dom. I'm not, but I do
have to have…control. I can't have sex without it. What just
happened is the result if I try."

She still wouldn't meet his gaze and her
cheeks had turned molten. In embarrassment? With him? He'd known
her…

A set of handcuffs landed on the bed next to
him. He stared. And here he thought nothing could surprise him
anymore.

She set her purse aside and bit her lip.
"Now you know. I'm a freak."

She was not a--

Just to be sure he was on the same page…"You
want to handcuff me?" Her gaze landed on the headboard, and he
realized the depth of her depravity. "You want me handcuffed to the
bed, immobile."

If it was possible, her cheeks reddened
more. Her gaze darted to the floor in answer.

Shaking his head, he considered this. His
furniture style was a sleigh design. There was nothing to restrain
him to, even if he thought he could comply. And honestly, he didn't
think he was capable. He had his own control issues. Sure, he
played with toys, sometimes cuffs, but he was never the one
in
them
.

With his heart pounding, he rubbed the back
of his neck. This was not how this played out in his head. Not one
iota. "I want to touch you." Badly. She had no fucking idea how
much.

Defeat settled on her face, her shoulders
sagging. Grabbing her purse, she turned.

She was halfway to the door before he called
out, "Stop." A quiet command which she blessedly heeded. "You're
not a freak. But I need to know who did this to you." Because he'd
rip the bastard limb from limb. Twice.

Facing him once more, she lifted her brows
in question. "What do you mean? No one did anything to me."

He swallowed hard and barely reined in his
temper. "Something had to make you need this. We're talking you and
me here, Raven. You can't trust even me not to hurt you. I want to
know. Now."

"I don't…" She rubbed her forehead and
tossed her purse on a nearby ottoman. "When I lost my virginity, I
panicked during. At the time, I thought it was because of the pain
and it just being my first time."

She bit her lip and stared over his
shoulder, not seeing the balcony or the view, he was sure, but that
time long ago which made her face twist in discomfort.

Sighing, she met his gaze. "The next guy
played out the same way. Instead of bailing, he tied himself to the
headboard and let me…take over. When we were done, he took me to
this bar on the other side of Anchorage. It has a small private
clientele list that caters to BDSM."

She waved her hand when he stood. "It wasn't
the lifestyle he was showing me. He wanted me to know I wasn't
alone in my needs. It was easier to find partners there that were
willing to be restrained than in the real world."

He tried to picture beautiful, fragile Raven
in such a place, and nausea swirled in his gut. No. Fragile wasn't
the right word. She was stronger than anyone he knew, but her
stature, though average in height, was thinner than most. She
could've been hurt. One of those pricks could've mistaken her for a
sub and…

"Fuck." He raked a hand through his
hair.

"When I need release, I go back. I watch in
the shadows to find the right person and we have sex in one of the
private rooms upstairs."