She might have laughed at how impersonal it all was, except that she couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t sound hysterical, so she kept it to herself.
“Set your chin on your knees,” he commanded, oblivious to her inner turmoil. “And look directly into the camera, as if you’re just a little nervous.”
A little nervous. Ha! If he only knew just how nervous she was. Her thighs were trembling now and she squeezed them tight.
“No, stay loose.”
She tried, but again he came out from behind the camera. This time he put a hand on her thigh.
Her body twitched.
“Loose,” he commanded.
Impossible. Despite the fear and embarrassment, that excitement was humming through her insides again. At the realization, she felt her face heat. How could this be? What kind of sick woman would be excited about being naked, in front of a stranger, having him touch her, toss demands at her? She didn’t know, but she couldn’t deny it. She was into this, and feeling so overwhelmingly sexy that she didn’t know how to handle herself.
Not paying any attention to her or her turmoil, Rafe pried the loose filmy material free of her hands and shook it out, leaving her completely bare except for the small triangle of her thong.
This was worse than the naked-in-the-bus nightmare, far worse, and at the same time somehow even more exciting, but she hunched over her knees, hugging them for all she was worth.
He handled the fabric like a pro, putting it back around her in a way that satisfied him, and left her feeling like she sat on a high wire without a net.
And still he just looked at her.
She squirmed, and as she always did when she was out of her element, she started talking—too much. “I know, I should have done sit-ups.” She crossed her arms tighter over her breasts, which were plain old B cups, but somehow in the forest, wet from the rain, they appeared closer to a C. “And a Thigh Master wouldn’t hurt, either, but—”
“You’re crazy.” He shook his head and stepped back, assessing her before pulling her arms free of her body to drape them over her knees again as he wanted, cocking his head to study her. “You know damn well you’ve got a body that brings grown men to their knees.”
Maybe Amber knew, but Emma rarely thought of herself that way. His praise made her nipples even happier, and her thighs were doing that funny clench and unclench thing again. She swallowed hard and stared at him, trying to get it together, but she couldn’t, she just couldn’t. Amber hadn’t told her how incredible-looking he was, how masterful, how utterly confident. She hadn’t said his touch would bring goose bumps to the surface of her flesh or that his voice would make her want to shiver.
Amber hadn’t said any of those things and, as a result, Emma decided she needed to get out more.
“Hold that position,” he said.
Holding. Her bent legs covered her in the front, but then he walked around the hammock, slowly, taking her in, and she could only imagine the picture she created from behind with her thong riding high—
“Hmm.”
“What’s the matter?” she asked shakily, resisting the urge to reach around and yank at the satin dividing her butt in a most intimate way.
“That’s odd.”
“What’s odd?” Did she have a zit? What?
“I’ve never noticed that freckle before.”
“F—freckle?”
“Yeah, this one right here—”
She nearly leaped right out of her skin when she felt the blunt tip of his finger stroke her right buttock and the freckle.
He’d never noticed it before because her sister didn’t have one. “Oh. Well…it’s usually covered.”
“Not when I’ve seen you.”
That deflated some of her exhilaration, oddly enough. So he’d seen her sister in far less than this outfit. She should have figured as much. And having his finger touch her so intimately shouldn’t matter, either, but her entire body felt so…aware. The lightweight material brushing and teasing her breasts seemed too rough suddenly, and her over-sensitized nipples quivered at her every breath as they rubbed against the material. “M—maybe it’s a new one.”
“Uh-huh. From all your nude sunbathing?”
Sounded good. “Yes.”
“Funny then, how creamy and pale your skin is.” He came around the front again, looking over every inch of her with his photographer’s eagle eye, lingering on her legs, which were up in front of her.
Could he see between them? She didn’t want to know, she really didn’t.
Being aroused like this was not only painful but embarrassing. As a writer she’d put her characters in situations that she’d thought sexy, but she knew now she’d been tame, and that was because she hadn’t had any idea of what sexy really meant.
Now she knew.
Rafe was still looking at her, which made her want to squirm again. Then there was the matter of the thong, tight in front, brushing against a sensitive part of her in a shocking, tantalizing manner with every passing second until she could hardly breathe.
“Shouldn’t you take the picture now?” she asked.
“Shh.” He took the material again, draping the transparent length of it over her head, bringing the ends down to the hands holding her knees and slowly tucking it in. “Nice. Hold.” He backed to his camera. “Holding on to the material, lift your hands and toss your head back to the sky.”
“What?”
“Do it.”
“But…I’ll be uncovered.”
“Your knees will shield your breasts from the camera.”
But what about from him? Holding her breath, trying not to picture how hard her nipples were or how her belly rose and fell with her every erratic breath, she did what he’d asked, she lifted her arms and tossed back her head.
A little.
“More,” he commanded in that silky voice that was so utterly captivating and tyrannical at the same time. “Expose your throat. Thrust your breasts out. Sacrifice yourself, Amber. You know you love to do that.” He peered out from his camera and gave her a long, assessing look. “Unless there’s some reason why you wouldn’t.”
Oh boy. “Of course not.” Breathing as if she’d been running, she “sacrificed” herself, throwing out her arms, tossing back her head, thrusting out her breasts, and over the roar of the blood in her ears, she heard a hiss of breath. She had no idea if it was Rafe—who else—and wasn’t sure if she wanted to know because it sounded so…primal.
“Hold that,” he said.
She tried not to think about how much of her he could see while she held the pose. All around her was the scent of the forest and above her came the sound of the rain.
And the clicking of his shutter.
“A little bit more.” His voice was both low and husky, and utterly hypnotic. “Open your eyes wide. Like that. Now your mouth, pant a little, like you’re both petrified and aroused beyond belief—Yeah, just like that.”
If he only knew she was petrified and aroused beyond belief, despite the fact that Jen and the other techs were still watching and that Stone had come back down the path holding a white umbrella in his hand—
A sharp bolt of lightning startled a gasp out of her, the following boom of thunder