Good God.

What was I getting myself into? It wasn’t long before a fancy lounge chair had been plopped smack bang in the middle of the set by the props guy. King emerged in jeans and nothing else, and I practically choked on my own tongue. My boss was ripped. Even his bare feet were beautiful. He had gorgeously wide shoulders, muscular pecs, defined abs, and a “V” to die for. Not to mention a light natural tan. He had an even better body than my ex, Stu, and I knew he had to be one of those annoyingly smug health freaks who got up at four in the morning just to exercise.

Yes, that was it. I needed to keep focusing on the vain smugness of someone who worked that hard on their body, rather than the fact that it made me want to crawl all over him. The problem was, he didn’t look smug. King wore an expression that was all, Here I am, take me or leave me, which only functioned to make him even more irresistible.

Take him, some deep, feminine part of me pleaded.

I noticed Bradley looking at King in almost the exact same way I was. Biting on his lip, he muttered under his breath, “Oh, we are going to sell some serious amount of jeans after this.”

I shot him a cynical look. There was a bit of manoeuvring with the set, and I went to stand next to my boss, silent and awaiting further instructions.

“Oliver,” said Bradley, “go sit on the chair. Alexis, I want you on his lap. Act natural. Try to give me that vibe you both had earlier when you didn’t realise I was taking pictures. I want you to seem like a real couple. Completely in love. Got it?”

Whoa, eh, okay. I was in love with the man’s abs, if that helped. King strode over to the chair like he owned the room and sat down before his eyes found mine. Those eyes were commanding, their icy colour catching the light as it shone through the window. They were far too welcoming, those eyes, and I got the feeling he was going to enjoy this. He was going to enjoy it a lot. Mustering my trusty false confidence, I walked to the chair and tentatively lowered myself onto his lap. My hands instinctively went to his shoulders for balance, and his hand grazed my hip.

Our eyes met, and I sucked in a breath. I was up close and personal with Oliver King’s face yet again, and I couldn’t look away.

“Hi,” I said, trying my best not to sound awkward.

He gave me a smile that lit up his eyes. “Hey.”

“Are you regretting coming with me now?” I asked, voice quiet. Bradley had already started taking pictures.

King brought his mouth over my ear. “Never. It’s the best idea I’ve had in ages.”

I swallowed and looked down, my lashes shading my eyes. Unfortunately, looking down also meant looking at King’s abs, and now I couldn’t look away.

“That’s perfect. I love it. You two are doing brilliantly,” Bradley encouraged us. He was close, but he sounded far off. King had captured all of my attention.

“Oliver, bring your hands up to Lexie’s shoulder blades. Lexie, can you move so that you’re straddling him? I’ve gotten plenty of you side-saddle for now.”

I sputtered a laugh. Side saddle? Really? Letting out a tiny sigh, I moved my legs so that I was straddling him and felt a small breath whoosh out. When my gaze went to his throat, I saw him swallow. Was he having just as much of a hard time with this as I was? I was painfully aware of my ever-hardening nipples and how easily King would see them through the thin bra and white vest I was wearing. Bradley had told me to lose the shirt, so I didn’t have any coverage. Thankfully though, King’s attention was locked on me, alternating between my eyes and my lips. A minute or two passed as Bradley continued to provide us with directions.

“Place your hand on her face, Oliver. I want lots of eye contact.”

King didn’t hesitate for a moment, his hand gently cupping my cheek. The heat of his palm sent a tingle shooting right between my legs. I tried looking anywhere other than his face until Bradley gave me hell.

“It doesn’t work unless you’re looking back at him, Lexie.”

No other choice left, I lifted my gaze. My eyes met King’s, and his deep stare held me captive. One of my knees was hurting a little as I held up my weight. I adjusted myself so that King was taking some of it, and that’s when I felt him.

He was hard.

I gasped quietly, but King was the only one to hear. I didn’t know what to say. I mean, how would a lesbian react to having a penis hardening against her? Maybe she wouldn’t care. The problem was, I did care, and though I tried my best to ignore it, my traitorous body had other ideas. The spot between my thighs ached, and involuntarily my torso moved by the tiniest fraction. Delightfully exquisite pressure ensued. God, that felt good. And then I was wet. So wet.

King didn’t fail to notice. His brow furrowed, his gaze searching, as I tried my best not to let him see the turmoil raging inside me. It felt like an eternity had passed, a million questions in his eyes that I didn’t know how to answer. Then those eyes left me, and I felt a flicker of relief. It didn’t last long, because when I saw where his attention had moved, my heart wanted to beat its way out of my chest. He was staring at my nipples, my nipples that were practically as hard as his cock.

He moved closer, his lips at my ear again, as I felt every muscle in his body go taut. His words were lethal. They held equal parts anger, triumph, and satisfaction when he whispered, “I fucking knew it.”

Nine

Subtly, he moved his hips, his hard-on lightly pushing against me as he let out the tiniest masculine grunt. He felt heavenly, and for a moment I forgot that even though I hadn’t breathed a word, my body had betrayed me.