Was it her imagination or did he sound as if he didn’t want it to end either?
As if she could somehow delay the inevitable, she took her time opening her eyes. She scanned the room for Luke, desperate to know if he felt something, too, or if it was only in her mind. But when she found him, his back was to her.
She wondered if he was hiding.
“Should I get dressed?” she asked, surprised at how husky her voice sounded.
“Yes, that’s fine.”
She waited for several long seconds to see if he’d turn around so she could find some sort of hint in his expression about how he felt. But he never did and she decided to leave before the quiet moment turned awkward.
Once she’d changed back into her clothes and hung up the beautiful gown, she slowly made her way into the hallway. He must have heard her, because he called, “I’m in the kitchen.”
Following the sound of his voice, she met him in the house’s expansive kitchen. Luke stood, looking out the back window, turning only when she entered the room. He nodded at the table where two water bottles sat.
“I got you some water,” he said. His expression was veiled and she couldn’t help it—it pissed her off.
“Do you typically provide aftercare for your photography sessions?”
It was the wrong thing to say; she knew it as soon as the words came out of her mouth. He moved to stand in front of her.
Hell, she’d forgotten how tall he was.
“I thought you might be thirsty,” he said. “It has nothing to do with aftercare. If it were aftercare, you would be in my arms, both of us basking in the joint pleasure we’d experienced. I’d be stroking your hair, telling you how much you pleased me and turned me on. I might even kiss you. Run my lips across your shoulders, taste your skin, enjoy the hint of salt that remained.” He picked up a bottle of water and gave it to her. “This is merely water. However, if you’d like to experience my aftercare, we can look for a mutually beneficial time to further explore what would be involved.”
And just like that, he’d thrown the gauntlet down in the most matter-of-fact way possible.
“I think we’d better stick to photography,” she managed to get out.
He nodded and took a sip of his water. “Consider it a standing offer.”
She was fresh out of snappy comebacks. Probably because the photography session had her wondering what a BDSM session would be like with this older Luke. She had a feeling it would be nothing like what she had experienced with the younger Luke and that was nothing short of spectacular.
* * *
Luke breathed a sigh of relief as Meagan’s car pulled out of the driveway. The photography session had been a lot more intense than he’d bargained for. Meagan obviously thought so too, or else she wouldn’t have made the comment she did about aftercare.
Damn, but he didn’t remember things being so fiery with her the last shoot they did. Then again, maybe they had been. After all, they’d spent the following weekend in bed.
He took a big sip of his water. No, there was no way in hell the chemistry between them had been so palpable fifteen years ago. No way had she played to the camera all those years ago the way she had today. He’d known she’d look incredible in the silk and lace he bought for her, but he had no idea she’d become the very embodiment of every fantasy he ever had.
Fuck, just thinking about it made him hard.
He was going to spend a lot of time in a cold shower if today was any indication of how future sessions would go. What he needed to do was to get his mind on something other than Meagan Bishop and how she looked wrapped in the tiny bit of almost nothing.
His phone vibrated on the counter where he’d left it and he gladly went to answer it. Finally, he could talk about something that wasn’t Meagan.
Except it was the gentleman behind the book, Rick Campbell, and Luke knew he’d be calling for an update. He had to admit, he’d been surprised when Rick approached him about the project. Apparently, Rick had been at his latest club’s grand opening and had been captivated by the pictures Luke had decorated with. Rick called him the next day to inquire about them and when he found that Luke was the photographer, he brought up the book.
The book itself was to be published by a small press that specialized in nonfiction coffee-table books. Luke had been tempted to snicker at the thought of a BDSM book being considered a coffee-table book, but Rick had been completely serious.
“Hello, Rick,” he said with a smile. “How’s it going?”
“Great. I’m calling to see if the session went as expected.”
“It did. Ms. Bishop is everything I told you about and more. Definitely the right model for the job.”
“Then I’m glad she agreed to work with you. Would you be able to send over a few shots from today?”
“Of course. She just left, so give me a few hours to go through what I have and pick some out to send.”
Rick agreed and after they disconnected, Luke sat the phone back down with a groan. Looked as if he wasn’t going to get a break from Meagan after all. Instead, he was going to spend the evening with images of her barely covered body.
First things first, though, he decided. And the first thing up was an ice-cold shower to show his body who was boss. As he walked past the bedroom Meagan had changed in, he saw the skimpy gown hanging where she’d left it.
First thing up was a longer-than-long ice-cold shower.
Later that night, he stood in his New Jersey club, just a few minutes from his home in Princeton, and hoped the sights and sounds would help keep his mind off Meagan. So far it wasn’t helping. He wasn’t sure why. It was a Saturday night and the place was crowded. From the looks of it, everyone was having a great time. He smiled and nodded at a few people, but didn’t stay in one place long enough to strike up a conversation, because he didn’t feel like sitting around and talking. He felt restless and unsettled.