Exposure (9 page)

We walk down the deserted, grimy hall,
and Britain leads us up the stairs. “I think the offices are on the
second floor,” she says.

I swallow. Why am I so nervous? I’ve
done a million and a half shoots before and I’ve rocked all of
them. I’ve even done one with Dallas before. But the thought of
being around him, of having him touch me for the camera again, is
making me light-headed.

And sweaty. Which is the last thing I
need to be.

Britain finds an office that looks
like it could still be in use. There are books on the shelves and
files scattered across the desk. Britain starts moving the files,
and I grudgingly find a soft piece of felt in one of the drawers to
start wiping away dust.

Dallas smoothes the front of his
slacks and sits, crossing his legs. A nice dress shirt is tucked
into his pants. He even wears a tie, his hair slicked back enough
to make him seem older and professional without looking creepy. And
he does look older. He looks like he could easily pull off early
thirties—perfect young, hot professor age.

Heat flushes my body.

I’m dressed in incredibly low-rise
jeans, a revealing, white cami, and a pink EPE zip-up sweatshirt.
Exactly what Dallas told me to wear. As I stalk around the room
trying to tidy the place up when he grabs my arm and pulls me to
him. I gaze down into his light eyes that express
concern.

“
What can I do that will
make this shoot as easy for you as possible?”

I want to reach out and touch his
face—run my thumb along the smooth end of his jaw, but I have to be
patient.

“
Modeling with someone
else is just going to take some time getting used to.”

The corner of his mouth turns up.
“I’ll try my best to make you forget about the camera.”

Oh, God.

You should try your best
to make me forget you’re not single
, I
want to tell him, but instead, I just nod.

After Britain sets up her lighting,
she claps her hands together. “Okay, I think we’re ready to shoot.
Dallas, go ahead and take a seat behind the desk.

My heart begins to pound relentlessly.
I clutch my binder—which I’ve brought as a prop—to my
chest.

Britain starts adjusting her camera.
“Okay, Andrea, so what’s the scenario?”

Andrea inhales excitedly, and clasps
her hand in front of her. “Okay, Rylan. You come into the office
looking for way to make extra credit in Dallas’s class, but he
obviously has bigger plans for you.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh,
brother.”

“
Rylan,” Dallas says
sternly. Darkly. I turn to see him looking up at me from his desk,
eyes fierce. His palms are pressed flat against the polished wood.
“I’ve noticed that you’re failing my class.”

“
You’ve got to be kidding
me,” I murmur.

“
Fuck yes!” Britain
squeals, raising the camera and taking a few test shots of Dallas.
“Come on, Rylan. Don’t be a poor sport. Play into it.”

I take a huge breath and slowly start
walking toward Dallas, who is stone-still.

“
Rylan, you are meek and
innocent,” Andrea instructs. “This professor is ruthless toward
you. You’ve never done so horribly in a class before and all you
want in the world is for your GPA to not drop from a sparkling
4.0.”

Not too far from real
life
, I think.

“
Give me dialog,” Andrea
instructs. “Inspire me.”

Dallas grins wickedly. He’s having way
too much fun with this. “I don’t think you can do it,” he
says.

Fire ignites inside me. A
challenge.

I look down, scuffing my feet timidly.
“Professor, I’d like to ask if you’d make an exception and offer
extra credit for me. It’s just, I’m a straight-A student and have
never had such a difficult time in a class before.”

“
Yes,” Britain
hisses.

When I look up at Dallas, I can’t tell
if he’s impressed or not by my acting. His expression lacks all
amusement. He leans back in his chair. “The thing is, Rylan, I have
girls coming into my office all of the time asking for extra
credit. And their excuses are quite creative. So why should I give
it to you and not to them?”

“
Please, Professor,” I
whimper. “I’ll do anything.”

Dallas can’t keep the smile from
rising on his face. “Unzip your sweatshirt,” he orders me in a deep
voice. “Slowly.”

“
Is this okay, Andrea?” I
hear Britain asking.

“
Oh, I’m having the time
of my life,” Andrea responds. “Keep going,” she instructs
us.

Trying my hardest to keep my breathing
under control, I slowly unzip my sweatshirt. Dallas’s eyes don’t
leave mine the entire time.

“
Take it off,” he says. I
let the garment fall to the floor.

He rolls his chair back and stands.
With one foot purposefully in front of the other, he walks around
to the edge of the desk and motions to it.

“
Take a seat,” he says,
his serious expression unwavering.

I have to hop onto the desk, my feet
dangling before him. Andrea remains silent, letting Dallas have the
reigns.

“
I don’t think that you
should pass the class without some sort of punishment for failing
in the first place.”

Oh. God.

My eyes widen. “What kind of
punishment?”

His eyes never leave me as he places
his hand on his belt buckle and begins to unfasten it.

Britain giggles.

“
I hate you, Britain,” I
breathe.

“
Stay in character,” she
barks, continuing to snap photos.

When Dallas slides his belt off, he
orders, “Raise your arms over your head.”

“
What are you going to
do?” I whisper.

He only responds with darkening eyes
that send a shiver through my whole body. Biting my bottom lip, I
raise my arms over my head.

Gripping the bottom hem of my cami, he
peels it upward and over my head, revealing my lace, pushup bra.
For a second, his eyes flicker to my chest to drink in the sight of
me.

Warmth races to the inside of my
thighs, and I squeeze them together.

I make to lower my arms. His hand
shoots out and grabs my wrist, gripping me tightly.

“
Did I say that you could
put your hands down?”

“
No, sir.”

Damnit, I wish this were real. I wish
Britain and Andrea weren’t here and Dallas was role-playing this
scenario with me solely for the sake of turning me on.

Because I am
oh
so turned
on.

“
Keep your wrists pressed
together.”

I comply as he takes his belt and
wraps it around my wrists, looping and fastening it so I am all
tied up.

“
Lie back,” he
instructs.

As soon as I do so, keeping my arms
raised above my head, he places his index finger on the center of
my lower lip, pushing forward slightly until I taste him. Then, he
drags his finger down my chin, my neck, and between the valley of
my breasts. When he reaches my navel I buck my hips up, and he
flattens my palm against my belly and pushes me back down. “You
don’t move until I say you can move. Understand?”

“
Yes, sir.” I try to speak
clearly but end up more in character than I mean to be when my
words escape me in a whimper.

Dallas notices. I can tell by the way
his lip twitches. Hooking his fingers beneath the hem of my jeans,
he leans forward until his lips brush against my ear. “Are you as
turned on as I am?”

A small gasp escapes me, but I don’t
have time to respond before Andrea instructs Dallas to take off my
pants.

Dallas

I order Evan to lift her hips so I can
tug her jeans off. They land on the floor. My hands find her upper
thighs and I squeeze. “Don’t move unless I move you.”

She squeezes her eyes shut and nods
furiously. My dick is growing harder with every passing second, and
it’s not going to be hard before it becomes painful to even
move.

Especially with what I’m planning to
do.

I ease her legs apart and bite back my
groan. I can tell how wet she is from here. If we were alone—if I
was single—I wouldn’t be able to contain myself. I’d rip those lace
panties right off of her and lick right up her center.

Fuck
.

Her perfect tits rise and fall as she
breathes shallowly.

I realize Britain’s trying to instruct
me.

“
Jesus, Dallas. Yes, we
all know Rylan’s hot, now shut your jaw and stay in
control.”

I yank my mouth shut and
take a deep breath through my nose. Remain in control.
Remain in control
.

“
Tie up her feet,” says
Andrea.

Tie up her feet? “With
what?”

I look over at Andrea, and she nods
toward my chest.

Of course, idiot.

I push Evan’s knees together and reach
up, undoing the knot of my tie as quickly as possible. Evan
whimpers again, a noise I wish she’s stop making because I’m
starting to lose my mind. When the tie is free from my neck, I wrap
the fabric into a knot around her ankles. Her toes curl, and I
pinch the big one on her left foot. She gasps.

“
Don’t move,” I growl,
more so out of my sexual frustration than anything else, “or this
punishment will be much worse for you.”

When I meet her eyes, she’s giving me
a strange look, as though she’s thinking hard about
something.

And then she curls her toes
again.

I don’t take the time to second guess
my actions, my hands scooping up her back and legs. I flip her over
to her stomach and she cries out in surprise.

Andrea wolf-whistles. Britain drops
her camera. “You okay, Ry?”

“
Shut up, Brit,” Evan
gasps. “Let the man work.”

“
Cup her ass,” says
Andrea, and then bend forward, like your whispering into her
ear.

I drag my hand up her soft thigh, the
perfect globe of her ass fitting right into my hand.

Britain instructs Evan to arch her
hips and look at the camera. I lower my head to the ear facing me.
When her hair brushes against my lips, something inside me snaps.
Dancing with her like this is a slow, torturous death, and I can’t
take it anymore. I open my mouth and catch her earlobe, scraping my
teeth against her tender flesh. She moans my name softly and I
almost lose it right there.

I hear Andrea say, “This would be good
for a finale pose.”

Britain’s snapping pictures like
crazy. “Agreed,” she finally says, letting the camera drop. “I
think that’s a wrap guys.”

I straighten, trying to control my
breath.
Britain fans herself with her hand. “Damn, is it hot in here or is
it just you two?” She winks at me and Andrea opens the door. The
two of them step out of the office to get some fresh
air.”

“
Help,” Evan
pleads.

“
Oh, shit.” Gently, I
unwind the belt from her hands, and she rolls over to her back. Her
slate eyes are glassy, her lips are swollen, like we actually just
got finished screwing each other. This only turns me on
more.

“
I can get that,” she
says.

“
It’s fine.” I work at
loosening the knot at her ankles. “It’s the least I can do after
that.”

“
Dallas Whitley,” she says
my name breathlessly, and I glance away from her feet to watch her
arch off the desk and stretch her arms out in front of her. Her tan
body glistens with the sheen of sweat. “You are so lucky to aren’t
single right now.”

My hands freeze on the loosened knot.
“Why’s that?”

Without breaking her gaze
with me, she says, “Because if you were, after putting me through
that little number, I’d
make
you get me off.”

She can’t be serious.

“
You can’t be
serious.”

She sighs wipes her forehead with the
back of my hand, and releases a throaty laugh. “Oh my God,” she
says. “I can’t believe I just said that. The heat is making me
delirious or something.” She looks down at her feet. “You going to
take all day on that knot, or what?”

^^^^

When I’m back at my apartment, I throw
my keys on the table and yell Tricia’s name.

I’ve had a raging hard-on since the
shoot. I’m sure the girls noticed it, but at this point, I really
couldn’t give a fuck.

I just need to get off. I
need to get off
now
.

I yell Tricia’s name again before I
see her handwritten note on the fridge.

Boss took me to dinner.
Back at 11. OXOX

I curse and stalk down the hall,
ripping off my shirt before I make it to the bathroom. I think
about taking a cold shower, but why torture myself any more than
I’ve already been tortured today?