She ran her tongue over her lower lip, and he grunted. “Hold that look.” He rolled off the bed and strutted in the buff to the other side of the room. It was impossible not to stare at his carved backside.
“What do you do to get those muscles?” she blurted.
He snorted a laugh and held his camera up, tweaking some settings. He threw a look at the window. “Perfect lighting. Don’t move, doll.”
Suddenly she realized what he was about to do. She jackknifed into a sitting position, covering as much bare flesh as possible with her arms. As an afterthought she grabbed for the sheet.
Damian circled the bed and pinched the 800-thread count. “Let me shoot you lying as you were. That bead of light on your lips and the crests of your breasts…” His voice grew hoarse, and she snapped her gaze to his.
He stared at her until her heart tripped and she felt drugged. Before she knew it, she was nodding.
Pressing her down, he arranged her as she’d been lying before. Then he pulled the sheet off, exposing her to the cool air. Her folds grew slick with arousal. What would her parents think of her lying in bed with a stranger and allowing him to photograph her in the nude?
“Look at me, doll.”
He had the camera up, but wasn’t looking through the lens. Instead he held her gaze. God, he’s gorgeous. The smattering of red hair on his chest and forearms was the epitome of manliness. Hell, the dusting of freckles on his pecs was masculine.
“Okay, now think about what you were thinking before. When you were staring at the ceiling.”
Her mind blanked, and all she could conjure was him stretching atop her, taking control of her every heartbeat until she rocketed toward orgasm. She pressed her thighs together, and moisture wet them.
Damian groaned. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”
She couldn’t. Suddenly she was Mark Johansson’s daughter. She was the woman with a lot of failed relationships and who’d never experienced anything but bad sex.
“You’re getting stiff on me. I’m the one who’s supposed to be stiff.”
She wanted to look, but he leaned over the bed, hiding his body from her. Was he hard against the rumpled sheets?
Confusion clouded her mind. All of a sudden she didn’t know how she’d gotten the gumption to book this trip. And she’d ridden Damian with utter abandon.
While the guilt burrowed deep in her conscience resurfaced, she averted her gaze.
Damian waited while she fought to take back her feelings of empowerment. There wasn’t anything wrong with sleeping with a sexy man who’d shown her more consideration than every lover in her past put together. The things she wanted for herself were not the same as what her parents desired for her.
Damian set down the camera. “What’s going on in that mind, doll?”
Unable to share it, she shook her head.
“Guess our photo session is over then.” He didn’t sound a bit disappointed.
“What now?” Her voice wobbled.
He pushed off the bed, revealing ridges of muscles and a rock-hard erection jutting right at her. He reached for her, drawing her attention to the ring of muscle riding below his waist. What did they call that? The love cradle? They should.
Totally dry in the Texas heat, she wet her lips. He grabbed the camera and snapped five photos before she could even gasp. Then he tossed it to the bed and reached for her. “Get up, doll. I want you in the shower.”
BUY BODY LANGUAGE
BUY PUSHIN’ BUTTONS book 1 of The Boot Knockers Ranch