Bared. Jill Shalvis

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СКАЧАТЬ reached toward her and Emma tried not to wince. He was going to arrange her, touch her—and this would be the hardest part. Amber loved to be touched, craved it like everyone else craved air.

      Emma, however, didn’t. She closed her eyes. Tried to breathe.

      “Stone, where’s the white umbrella?” Rafe called out from behind the camera.

      “The white…” Stone looked at the blue one they’d used earlier and swore. “In my room.” He looked over the setting, the rain misting down on their model, the lighting, and sighed in agreement. “Yeah. I need to go get it, it’s just what you need.” He started jogging up the path Emma had just been tugged down by Rafe.

      Emma turned back to the camera, but suddenly Rafe was standing right in front of her—tall, big and wet. As a few errant drops hit him they practically steamed right off his body.

      “Hold still,” he said.

      She held still and looked into his dark eyes, watching to see if he watched her. Saw her.

      “Relax.”

      No, he didn’t really see her, at least not as a woman. She didn’t know if she was relieved or insulted.

      Relieved, she decided a minute later, realizing she’d never felt so utterly naked. Living her life as she did, with work being all she ever thought about, she wasn’t used to this nude thing. She’d had the occasional relationship, but given her schedule, occasional was the key word. It had been a good long time since she’d had so much as a kiss and even then, since she remembered being on deadline at the time and completely distracted, it hadn’t been anything to write home about.

      Casual nudity had never become a part of any of those occasional relationships. She always rushed through her day, preoccupied, rarely seeing herself naked, much less letting anyone else see her. Being so exposed right now was like one of those dreams where she found herself on the school bus, without clothes.

      It was horrifying, terrifying, mortifying—

      “Perfect,” Rafe said, looking through his camera at her.

      Her tummy fluttered again. Her nipples tightened. And her thighs clenched. Yes, she was horrified, terrified, mortified…

      And somehow excited at the same time.

      “Hug your knees.” He came out from behind the camera, moved close.

      Ohmigod. If she weren’t so bared to the cool raindrops, she might have broken out in a sweat—

      Silent, brooding, he wrapped his fingers around her ankles, lifting until she bent her knees. Then he took her wrists, dragging her arms around her legs. “Bend your head down, just a little—” He sounded gruff, frustrated, so it confused her when he suddenly softened. “Oh yeah,” he breathed. “Just right.” He stroked her hair from her face, his fingers brushing her skin.

      Her gaze jerked up to his as her nipples tightened even more, but he was completely lost in getting the pose he wanted.

      She might have laughed at how impersonal it all was, except that she couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t sound hysterical, so she kept it to herself.

      “Set your chin on your knees,” he commanded, oblivious to her inner turmoil. “And look directly into the camera, as if you’re just a little nervous.”

      A little nervous. Ha! If he only knew just how nervous she was. Her thighs were trembling now and she squeezed them tight.

      “No, stay loose.”

      She tried, but again he came out from behind the camera. This time he put a hand on her thigh.

      Her body twitched.

      “Loose,” he commanded.

      Impossible. Despite the fear and embarrassment, that excitement was humming through her insides again. At the realization, she felt her face heat. How could this be? What kind of sick woman would be excited about being naked, in front of a stranger, having him touch her, toss demands at her? She didn’t know, but she couldn’t deny it. She was into this, and feeling so overwhelmingly sexy that she didn’t know how to handle herself.

      Not paying any attention to her or her turmoil, Rafe pried the loose filmy material free of her hands and shook it out, leaving her completely bare except for the small triangle of her thong.

      This was worse than the naked-in-the-bus nightmare, far worse, and at the same time somehow even more exciting, but she hunched over her knees, hugging them for all she was worth.

      He handled the fabric like a pro, putting it back around her in a way that satisfied him, and left her feeling like she sat on a high wire without a net.

      And still he just looked at her.

      She squirmed, and as she always did when she was out of her element, she started talking—too much. “I know, I should have done sit-ups.” She crossed her arms tighter over her breasts, which were plain old B cups, but somehow in the forest, wet from the rain, they appeared closer to a C. “And a Thigh Master wouldn’t hurt, either, but—”

      “You’re crazy.” He shook his head and stepped back, assessing her before pulling her arms free of her body to drape them over her knees again as he wanted, cocking his head to study her. “You know damn well you’ve got a body that brings grown men to their knees.”

      Maybe Amber knew, but Emma rarely thought of herself that way. His praise made her nipples even happier, and her thighs were doing that funny clench and unclench thing again. She swallowed hard and stared at him, trying to get it together, but she couldn’t, she just couldn’t. Amber hadn’t told her how incredible-looking he was, how masterful, how utterly confident. She hadn’t said his touch would bring goose bumps to the surface of her flesh or that his voice would make her want to shiver.

      Amber hadn’t said any of those things and, as a result, Emma decided she needed to get out more.

      “Hold that position,” he said.

      Holding. Her bent legs covered her in the front, but then he walked around the hammock, slowly, taking her in, and she could only imagine the picture she created from behind with her thong riding high—

      “Hmm.”

      “What’s the matter?” she asked shakily, resisting the urge to reach around and yank at the satin dividing her butt in a most intimate way.

      “That’s odd.”

      “What’s odd?” Did she have a zit? What?

      “I’ve never noticed that freckle before.”

      “F—freckle?”

      “Yeah, this one right here—”

      She nearly leaped right out of her skin when she felt the blunt tip of his finger stroke her right buttock and the freckle.

      He’d never noticed it before because her sister didn’t have one. “Oh. Well…it’s usually covered.”

      “Not when I’ve seen you.”

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