Page 90 of Puck Me Secretly

“Excuse me?”

The photographer was bent over his camera. “Try to imagine that I’m the chick you need to fuck. Not want, but need. This chick is the one that got away. You burn for her. You long for her. And when you see her, all you want to do is grab her and have your dirty way with her.”

Max stared at me.

I stared back.

“Be sexy for her, Max,” the photographer was taking photo after photo. “Tell her how you feel about her with your eyes. Try to let her know how much you want her.”

Max’s eyes never left me. I struggled to breathe. I could feel my body respond to his smoldering gaze. I was on the receiving end of his I-want-to-fuck-you stare and my traitorous body responded. My nipples hardened and my stomachclenched, but for the life of me, I couldn’t drop my gaze from his.

The camera whirred, and the photographer called out directions, but Max never took his eyes off me.

I imagined him wearing only those skates, lifting me up against a wall, while I wrapped my legs around his waist. His face would be against mine. Those eyes would burn for me. And then he’d roughly push his big…

“That’s a wrap.”

I blinked. In a daze, I turned to the photographer. “What?”

“We’re done here.”

I turned back to Max. He continued to stare at me with an intensity that made my insides quivery. I tried to smile but instead, my lips trembled.

His wolfish smile grew on his face. I crossed my arms and tried to appear nonchalant as his gaze leisurely perused my body as if I was the one standing in my underwear. I lifted my chin. There was no question he knew what effect he was having on me. He gave me one more taunting, heat-filled gaze that made my knees weak before he strode back towards his dressing room.

What just happened?

“So, the photos turned out?” I babbled, trying to cover up how much Max had affected me.

The photographer paused. “I’ve been doing this for twenty years and I just took some of the sexiest photos of my life. Your sex life must be off the charts.”

“Excuse me?”

He shook his head. “The way he was looking at you? That was pure, mind-blowing lust.”

“We aren’t sleeping together!”

He snorted. “Not yet. You’re not sleeping togetheryet.”

“I’m his boss.”

He lifted his head and took in my sneakers and skinny jeans. “Seriously?”

I crossed my arms over my still puckered nipples. “Yes. I’m his boss and we will not be sleeping together.”

The photographer snorted. “Says you.”

CHAPTER 32

Maxand I walked out to his vehicle in silence. We didn’t speak. A line between us had been crossed. I didn’t know what that meant, but it both scared me and thrilled me at the same time.

“The photographer said those were the best photos he’s ever taken.”

Max huffed as he tossed his bag in the back. “I’m glad that I didn’t need to do the shot with the helmet over my junk.”

Funny because I had been excited about that outfit.

We got in and Max started the vehicle. His phone rang. On the dashboard, it said:Lolita calling.

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