Page 37 of Stick to the Deal
I scan the crowd and see her by the fireplace, speaking with our marketing director, Tyra Milligan. The younger woman is talking animatedly, her dark hands sweeping towards the photograph hanging over the mantle.
It took some convincing, but Nic’s work is displayed in every room of the apartment. After a number of glasses of champagne, and orgasms, I even got her to show me more of her portfolio and agree to make additional prints. That first week here we spent hours combing the city for furnishings. I thought it would be torture, but I’m quickly learning anything with Nic is going to be fun.
I slowly approach the pair, picking up the strains of the conversation.
“This photo is stunning—I’ve seen a lot of nature shots, but this is so unique.”
“That’s one of Nic’s,” I proudly share.
“You took this?”
Nic is strangely still next to me, as if the charming hostess I always see has frozen. She did the same thing when I first brought up the prints as well. “All the photographs are hers.”
Daniel slides up next to me, following our eyes to the image silently.
Tyra’s eyes widen. “The perspective you’ve chosen is genius. I feel like I’ve been transported to some secret world.”
“Thank you. I photograph for magazines, portraits mostly. These are a little hobby. Bancroft found them in my studio and insisted we hang them up.”
“All the photographs are yours?” Daniel asks. Nic nods curtly. “I’ve seen your catalog work, especially the Kenzo shots. You’re good, but Tyra’s right, these are special. If you are interested in showing them, my friend owns a gallery in SoHo. I’d be happy to make an introduction.”
“I’ll think about it.” That Colgate smile appears on her lips. The same one she used at the awkward dinner party. What is it about her photographs that make Nic so uncomfortable? They’re fucking amazing.
I’ve grown up surrounded by art. From Picasso to Monet, I’ve seen them, studied them. Museum galas, gallery events. None of them ever affected me the way her work does. It’s raw, emotional, personal. I will get to the bottom of this, but for now, I’ll cut her a break and lead the subject away.
“Have you seen the view from the terrace? Let me grab you a drink on the way.”
“I’d kill to have access to a photographer like you for the magazine.”
Dammit, Tyra didn’t take the bait.
“I’d be happy to help out when you prepare the first edition. Sign a waiver or something.” Nic excuses herself before Tyra can launch into another enthusiastic monologue.
The rest of the party continues without further incident. Daniel even manages to coax a real smile and chuckle from Nic as he helps clean up the abandonedbottles and cups. Not for the first time, I envy his easy air. Blue blood not withstanding, charming is not a word anyone would use to describe me. Broody and cold are more likely. No, we are as opposite as can be. I’ll never know why he decided to adopt me in university, but I’ll always be grateful.
When it’s just the two of us, I follow Nic up the stairs to our bedroom. My eyes are glued to the rounded swell of her ass as her hips sway in front of me with each step. Perfectly at eye level. Watching her in that damn cat suit has been torture all night.
She strides across the room towards her walk-in closet. Hand already reaching for the zipper at her chest.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
She twirls on one ice pick heel. “Changing.”
I stare into her eyes as I prowl forward and a deep sense of satisfaction rises as the hazel orbs darken with desire. We may not have been a love match, but there is no denying this mutual attraction.
My hand lashes out, branding her hips and pulling her against me. She gasps as my rock-hard cock digs into her front. “I’ve been picturing all the nasty, depraved things I would do to you in this outfit for hours. You will not be changing out of it that quickly.”
She bites her lip and purrs like the goddamn sex kitten she’s dressed as. “Well, it’s too bad you’re Bruce Wayne. Catwoman only fucked Batman.”
“Woman. I will show you the fucking dark knight.”
Lightening fast, I grip her hips, turning her and pushing her towards the bed until she stands hovering over the covers on her hands. Leaning forward, I drape my body over hers, rubbing my aching cock up and down the crest of her ass until she moans.
“I’m going to peel this off of you and taste every inch I expose.”
“Yes, please.”
“Not so fast. First, I’m going to make you writhe and scream. Make you beg for it, desperate, like I’ve been for hours.”
