Splinters (18 page)

Of course, in my current mood, I’m not filling much of it.

“Can I just have another minute?”

He sighs at my third such request, but consents because he needs my cooperation. Like he implied, they’re paying for
my
face, not just anyone’s.

A darling girl with big blue eyes whose name I can’t recall holds up a robe and a water bottle in silent query. I manage a small smile and wave her off.

I sit up, and whatever rough material they managed to make this fake ledge out of now gouges just like real concrete into my bare ass cheeks. Maybe if I walk around a moment. I could people-watch the anxious behind-the-scenes folks who don’t want to be the one yelled at for the debacle I’m causing.

I look over at Elsie where she’s standing near Stuart, expecting to at least see the subtle flirtation going on between them as I’ve noticed recently. But Elsie’s beaming at me, hands clasped under her chin, and Stuart’s even managed to dredge up what might be a grin. I frown at them. What the hell do they have to be so pleased about?

Elsie rolls her eyes, and then stomps over. “I had to. I know I should’ve talked to you first, but I just had to.”

“Had to what?”

She points, and I look over near the door to see—

Oh, dear God.

I swing my legs down from the ledge and stand. For a moment, I tremble.
He’s here
. I walk slowly toward Duke, and his whiskey eyes stay on mine. Not once does his gaze slip to look at any other part of me, and I know. Right then, I just
know
. Damn the consequences and any complications, I need this man fully in my life, words, speech, visage and form.

“Elsie said you needed to see me,” he says in a voice quieter than I remember. “I know we haven’t talked about meetin’ again, and maybe we should’ve, but when she called…” He sighs. “I know you can take care of yourself, but I need to be here. You shouldn’t have to go through any of this on your own.”

I’m fighting back tears. My cowboy has shining armor.

“If I could change it all, Al, I would.” He breaks eye contact, but only to look down at his hat in his hands. His fingers move the brim in a circle. “That’s not right. I wouldn’t change gettin’ the chance to meet you for anything.” He looks me in the eye again. “You gotta know I wouldn’t ever change that.”

He needs to know, deserves to know. I have to swallow before I can speak.

“I have
never
—” My voice fractures around the lump in my throat as my eyes burn. I swallow and stand up straighter. “Never felt so happy as I did on your ranch
with you
.” I have to whisper those last two words as I lose the battle with my emotions. I want to be
with
him! I know it’s crazy fast and so stupid, but
he’s the one I want
.

He steps closer, one step. He clears his throat. “What are you sayin’?”

I can’t talk, damn it. Words need to be said, but right now all I have are actions. I walk right up to him and wrap my arms around his shoulders. His hands spring out of the way, so I lean into his chest, bellies lined up, and nuzzle into his neck.

I’m home
.

He nearly crushes my ribs as he hugs me tightly. Pressing his scratchy face and bristly mustache into my shoulder, his breath stutters against my skin. I can feel him shiver. He needs to be with me, too.

Turning my head just a bit, I kiss his jaw and linger there. He doesn’t want lingering, though, because he clamps a hand on the back of my neck and hauls my head around so he can really kiss me.

While his one hand keeps me close so his lips can remind me how much I’ve missed them, his other hand snakes down along my body. I moan to feel those calloused fingers, his rough palm, scrape across my side and along my back. A whine escapes me, a rumble from him, when he discovers my ass is bare. He settles his hand over my cheeks, fingers splayed and one tucked in my crease. He’s claiming it. He’s claiming
me
.

Duke pulls me closer, holds me tight against his solid body, and his devouring kiss turns sweet. I know I’m exactly where I should be. To hell with what brought us together, Duke Walters is my love, my home, my everything.

“Uh, Al? I’m sorry to interrupt, but we’re losing the light.”

Frickin’ photographers. I’m having a
moment
here.

Duke tapers off the kiss. His eyes are glassy as he thumbs a tear or two out from under one of mine. He grins. “Guess you need to get back to work.”

“Are we okay?” I grip his shirt tighter.

He hugs me a little more. “I’ll wait here till you’re done. Then we can go talk some more.”

I rock my hips, making his finger slide. “Sex too, Duke. I’ve been
aching
for you.”

He swallows hard and his fingers bite into my ass cheek. Making him horny will be my new hobby. I wiggle a little closer and hook my leg around his knee. Duke’s grin goes feral.

“Shame we’re not shooting porn,” the photographer says.

“Oh, all
right
,” I snap at him and disengage from Duke. “God forbid I have some reunion time with my boyfriend.
Months
of celibacy and thinking I’ve ruined everything, just
dying
from a broken heart, and I can’t have
one minute
to—”

“You didn’t ruin a thing, darlin’,” Duke says. “I’ll heal your heart and fuck your brains out as soon as you’re done workin’.”

I blink at him. “I… Oh.” I clear my throat. “Well, in that case.”

There’s some snickering from the worker bees as I return to the wall and arrange myself again. Of course, I’m filling out my jock a hell of a lot more than before and, since I’m on my back, everyone can see. I don’t care. Let them know, let them see.

Let
him
know.

Duke’s grinning at me in a way that just screams how much I’m his. I adjust myself, returning his look, and then throw my head back to smile at the deep blue sky.

’m energized. It’s been so long since I could throw everything into modeling. Just knowing Duke’s watching has re-lit that fire. I want to show him how beautiful I can be.

In the most revealing of masculine underwear, I strike poses from my few years of taking ballet. My muscles go taut and I can feel the light and shadow emphasizing every edge and curve. The wind, the city sounds, the people, they all fade as I listen for every click of the camera.
Click
. I jump.
Click
. I jump again.
Click
. I twirl.
Click
. I reach for the sky, nearly en pointe.

The photographer is losing his mind in artistic ecstasy.

“Do a split!”

“Not in a jock, thank you.”

“Someone get him the red shorts. I swear to God,
move!
”

I ease off to the side where there’s a sheet I can wrap around myself to change behind. It isn’t easy to do, but the building officials who’ve allowed us to be here don’t want me flashing the other skyscrapers and their gawking inhabitants. I don’t mind. I should be able to change in the open—I’ve done it for years—but lately… The exposure… The strangers…

“Here,” Duke says and takes the sheet from me.

I smile at him, loving that he saw a need and is filling it. He holds up the material, concealing me in the circle of his arms. Then, there’s the grin.

Eyes on his, I strip for him. Standing naked, cock throbbing, I revel in the dilation of his pupils and rapid expansion of his chest. He wants me. He
wants
me, and oh, how I want him.

Someone thrusts the red boy shorts into our cocoon and scurries away when I take them.

“You’re a tease,” Duke whispers.

I shake my head and put the underwear on. There’s a lot more to adjust this time around. “Teasing implies not following through.”

That possessive, self-satisfied smile slowly stretches across his lips. I lean up to kiss his chin, and fondle his package as I step away. “Come on, sunset,” he says with a growl to his voice.

Beaming, I catch the photographer’s hungry eye before jumping up to give him a split in the air.
Click
.

Eventually, the way I’m now filling out each piece of underwear is entirely too pornographic to continue. I’ve thrown myself into every possible pose because Duke can see me. I’ve got the photographer drooling for more when we finally lose the light. He and Elsie are on the phone negotiating another shoot with Henri. I’m not sure she’ll let them have me again. Not right away. She knows I’ll be entirely too busy enjoying my cowboy.

“What do you have to do now?” Duke asks, and there’s not a hint of impatience in his tone. He’s as curious now as he was an hour ago.

“In order: go downstairs, change, drive home…” I grin as I plaster myself to his front. “Then ravish you.”

His rough palms graze down my sides. “That specific order?”

Tempt not a desperate man
. Or do.

“If we go down now, we’ll be the only ones in the studio for a while.”

“Lead the way.”

I walk through the heavy door and down the stairs, the sound of our steps the only noise. Duke is right there the entire way. I pause to open the door to the hall, and he’s pressing into my back. Awareness, desire, prickles my desperate skin and hurries my pace. The studio’s deserted, and I know the instant Duke decides on our destination because he wraps an arm around my waist and marches us toward the clearly labeled changing room.

A bang of the door, a sudden spin, and I’m pinned between the wall and a solid, hungry man who takes my mouth with his. He’s rough, and I need that.
Leave marks. Stake your claim
.

Don’t leave me
.

Our breathing is harsh and fast as he demands and I give. His tongue, lips, teeth own mine with every lick, press, nip. Those calloused hands scrape and grip my straining body. Every inch of my bare skin lights up with the touch of his or the rub from his clothes. I’ll have an impression of his giant belt buckle on my belly.

“Duke… Clothes,” I manage to say in between kisses.

He yanks my barely-there briefs down over my ass. I laugh as he shoves me back onto the counter, pitching my legs out from under me. He frowns.

“
Your
clothes.” I dissolve into giggles I can’t stop.

It takes a second, but then he’s chuckling and it grows into a guffaw. We’re so gone, we’re giddy. But when I wiggle the briefs off and kick them away, his laughter tapers off until he’s just smiling at me. My giggles disappear as I melt under his smoldering gaze.

I lean back against the mirror, spreading my thighs. “Come here,” I whisper and reach for him.

He moves in close and his hands, kisses are gentler now. He cups my jaw, brushes his lips across my cheekbones. Our foreheads touch, and I can see him close his eyes. I do too, sighing. I wouldn’t have minded if he’d gone with manhandling and mauling—I’d been right there with him—but this is what makes him special. Duke Walters is a sweet romantic who knows how to make love.

“You want to wait?” I whisper and caress his arms through the cotton of his shirt.

“Oh, hell no.”

He drops to his knees and punches my cock into his throat.

I holler and fold over him like my spine snapped.
OhGodOhGod!
Deep, so deep. The heat, that pull… I arch back, noises pouring from me, blind and deaf to anything that isn’t Duke. Spearing my fingers into his hair knocks his hat to the floor. I grip strands and scratch skin. He’s gonna make me come. Hard.

So we’ll just make love later.

He pulls back, bobbing a few times so his soft lips and the bristles of his mustache both slide on my length. Suddenly, he spits. It startles me. Why’d he do that? He didn’t spit on me. There’s no questing finger looking to invade. I gasp when I realize the sound I can hear is his wet hand on his own cock.

“Duke, oh shit. I— Yah!” And part of my brain realizes that I’ve just hollered for the cowboy to giddy-up as he swallows me down again. I’d laugh…if I could breathe.

So good. He’s so good at this. I’d had no idea. I’m undulating on the counter, giving myself over to the suction of his relentless mouth and dimly grateful he’s not balking at how I push him down. He must be breathing through his ears. I grunt and tremble as he swallows.