Play With Me(6)

You don’t want her to go. Chase’s mocking statement haunted him.

She looked unsure. The slight narrowing of her eyes and the tiny purse of her mouth gave her thoughts away. Patience. He normally had it in spades and he could employ it here. Let her make the decisions for now. Come to him. It couldn’t be any other way. For the shoot or anything else he had to ensure her trust. Nothing could be more important.

After a few minutes of their showdown, she relented, closing the door and unfastening her security chain. Chase never understood why people put any faith into those silly lightweight mechanisms. It took nothing to push the door and make it break. A woman living alone in a neighborhood like this needed far better security. This may not be New York City but that didn’t mean women weren’t attacked or worse. He added that to his running mental list of things he needed to get done.

When she opened the door she stood back and motioned with her hand for him to enter. He bit back the satisfied smile as he envisioned this the first win in the many battles of will to come. Murphy was right. He wasn’t about to let her go.

Stepping into her modest-sized apartment was like walking into a different building. She’d gone to great lengths to mask the rundown place she lived in by decorating her space in a sort of shabby Old World style. The cracks in the walls gave the purple and gold paint treatment character. The vibrant space with pillows everywhere, furniture restyled from cast-offs and more color than the average color wheel could only be described as eye-popping.

Who the hell was this woman? For the first time since he’d met her, he looked beyond the beauty and luscious curves to realize he knew next to nothing about her.


“Wow, this is quite a transformation from the rest of your building.” He walked the perimeter of the area, peering into the few doors that led off the main room. Color and style met him everywhere.

“It’s amazing what you can do with a little imagination and a can of paint or two.” She spoke quietly from near the door as if afraid to come too close to him.

“You have the eye of an artist. What are you doing working as my receptionist with talent like this?”

“It’s no big deal. Besides, I don’t have a lot of experience. Do you know how few people in this town are willing to take a chance on someone without it?” She edged to the couch and took a seat in one corner, immediately covering most of her body by hugging a fat purple pillow to her chest.

“Are you afraid of me, Eve?” He didn’t like the wary look on her face. She seemed skittish.

“I don’t know how to be with you after this afternoon,” she whispered.

Chase winced at the obvious damage his gruff behavior had caused. Way to go, dumbass.

“I didn’t mean for you to take it personally. The requirements attached to that commission are pretty intense. Not something I would normally consider an amateur for.”

She turned away from him, but not before he noticed the lovely shade of crimson blooming across her face.

“I wouldn’t have volunteered if I didn’t have an idea of what I was getting into. I’m not stupid.”

Her insolence gave him dirtier thoughts than it should. He needed to get out of here before he did something stupid, like f*ck her. His hard-on grew along with the increasing images that filtered through his mind. The couch she sat on had been created from an old wrought-iron bed frame with knobs and spindles, perfect to tie her to. Hell, the entire apartment was a rigger’s dream. The open ceiling beams alone gave him a myriad of ideas for photographs. He could already imagine her in an old-fashioned corset and leggings with her hair piled on top of her head. Her body shape would make a delicious pinup shoot.

Bettie Page had nothing on her, and a bondage artist like Murphy would think he’d died and gone to heaven in a place like this. Chase made another mental note to bring his camera the next time he visited.

First things first. “I don’t think you’re stupid at all. But there are things in the order that could send you running for the hills and Murphy kind of likes having you around as the receptionist.”

“Murphy likes having me around.” Not a question, but a statement that implied the question. Despite the urges this woman created, he’d come here to offer her a job and in doing so had to remain professional. He reached into his jacket and pulled a small manila folder from the pocket. He laid the folder on the coffee table and pushed it in her direction.

“The rejection really wasn’t personal. Appearance-wise we couldn’t ask for a more perfect model.” He enjoyed watching her eyes widen in surprise and her mouth open to say something and then close again when she changed her mind. He could practically see the gears turning in her head as she tried to figure him out. Little did she know he thrived on keeping a submissive off balance.

“I’m not convinced you truly understand what you offered yourself up for, but I’ve decided to let you read for yourself and then decide.” He held up his hand to stop her response. “No, until you read through this you’re not ready. Even then you may not be. So I’ve outlined the exact client requirements for you and included a copy of the hard-core model contract. If, and only if, you read it thoroughly can you give me an answer. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Her simple answer made his dick swell more. It didn’t matter that her use of Sir probably only came out of respect for an employer. The sound uttered from her lips enflamed a need that had been sizzling for weeks.