VAIN: Part One(11)


His eyes travel slowly up my body before they land squarely on my face. "You're beautiful, Alexa."
I try not to smile too broadly at the compliment even though it means more coming from him than I'd ever admit. Regardless of the fact that we have a written agreement that clearly states that we aren't going to engage in anything beyond picture taking, knowing that he finds me beautiful, stirs up something deep within me.
"You're not bad yourself," I offer back. I should tell him that he's the hottest man I've ever been naked with but that would be pushing my luck and pushing buttons that aren't going to get me what I want. He's never going to f*ck me into tomorrow. It's just not going to happen.
"It really doesn't bother you, does it?" He settles onto the bed next to me, his strong, tattooed chest just inches from my touch.
"What?" I can't form a coherent response. Even though he's wearing jeans, he's still exuding more raw lust than any man I've ever met. I know that if he f*cked me, Nathan would become a distant memory of my second best lay and my time in Paris would cease to exist in my mind.
"The scar." His voice cracks as the word leaves his lips. "My scar."

Chapter 9

"You can't tie me to the bed and then ask me something like that." I protest too weakly. He hears it within my voice just as much as I do. The only grace that he's offered me tonight is the fact that he hasn't yet tied my ankles to the bed. I'm not sure if it was intentional or if he did it to watch me squirm after asking me a question like that.
"It's a simple question, Alexa. Do you like sucking cock?"
"I'm pretty sure you can get a woman to open up to you…" my voice trails as he slips out of his jeans. "Or whatever your process is without asking her whether she likes blowing guys. Besides, I asked about your scar and you completely ignored that."
His full lips turn into a sly grin as he picks up his camera and sits next to me. "Do you?"
"Riddles," I pull the word slowly across my tongue before I lick my bottom lip. "You speak in riddles, Noah."
His finger jumps to my chin and I groan without thinking as it traces a path across my jaw. "Tilt your head this way, Alexa," he says softly. "I want to capture your bottom lip. It's perfect."
I try and push my face into the opposite side of the bed, but he holds steadily to my chin. "You said you wouldn't take pictures of my face," I whimper. "My lips. People might know."
"The only people who would know, Alexa." His warm, heavy breath grazes over my chest before he continues, "Are the men you've sucked off. No one could forget these lips."
I close my eyes trying to ward off the thought of his cock sliding between my lips. I've wanted that since he flung open the door to his apartment the first night we met. I can't exactly tell him that I've replayed that moment in my mind over and over again and almost each time I imagine dropping to my knees and sucking his cock until he shoots his load all over me.
"Alexa, your head." His finger brushes against my cheek. "Turn towards me."
I pull my eyes open slowly as I tilt my head in his direction. He's kneeling next to me now, his almost erect cock just inches from my lips. If this is a test, I'm about to fail miserably. I lick my bottom lip slowly aching to taste the large head of his dick. If I just shifted my body ever so slightly, I know I could reach. Would he stop me? Would he let me?
"That's perfect," he growls as I hear the distinctive sound of the camera capturing dozens of images in a row. "Your lips are so perfect."
That's the photographer in him talking and I can't forget that as much as I want to. This has turned into a battle of me against my own will as much as a job. He's toying with me. It's what he's done from the beginning but calling him on it will only feed his already colossal ego. I read enough stories on the Internet about how he discarded countless women after being involved with them for a short time. That had to have been pre scar though. From what I've seen and witnessed, this version of Noah Foster doesn't go out much at all.
"Alexa," he calls out and I realize that I've heard him repeat my name several times now. I was drifting.
"What?" I bite back as my eyes fly open to the sight of him hovering above me, his camera in one hand. Christ, please make him stop being so utterly gorgeous. Is this some sick, twisted game of karma? You throw me into a room with a naked man who looks like this and then I can't touch him? This has to be worth more than five thousand dollars. It's like one of those credit card commercials. This is f*cking priceless.

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