“That wasn’t my work,” he grumbles, visibly upset. “Who the hell did you offer your ass to in such a short time? Seeing how you hit on me, I can only imagine the worst.”
“That’s not the fucking point. Do you or do you not know how to fix this? If not, then forget it. I’ll figure it out myself.”
I stride past him, pulling my shirt back over my head. He stalks behind me, his tone grave with annoyance. “Nah, I’ll help you, but you’ll have dinner with me,” he says, leaning against the wall.
“Not dinner. That’s too much.”
“What about coffee?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “Fine, just help me already.”
“Yeah, don’t worry, with the right amount of makeup and the right clothing, you’ll look like an angel again.”
He grabs a small tube and spurts green cream on his fingers. I pull my shirt over my head, exposing my chest and holding the fabric at my side. “What are you doing?” I ask, hissing at the contact with the cold substance.
“Green cancels red. By smearing this color correcting cream over the hickeys and using some foundation, you should be left looking spotless,” he says, flicking my skin. “Or almost.”
His cool fingers tickle my skin, making me giggle despite myself. His attention shifts to my face and the hand covering my growing smile. “You’re really cute.”
His gaze softens, and for a moment I’m lost in thought, watching him curiously before I recompose myself. “Shut up and be done with it instead of flirting.”
I look away toward the pile of makeup on the counter. I hold in the sounds threatening to spill, as his fingers graze my skin. He chuckles under his breath yet continues his handy work by applying some foundation over the hickeys and stepping back to admire the result.
“Damn.”
“What? Are they still visible?”
“Well…”
“Well what?” I demand, alarmed.
“You look delicious. It’s hard to hold back, you know?” He reaches for my chest, grazing the surface with his fingers. “You’re half naked with those rosy nipples just begging to get sucked. How can I resist?”
I shove him off and stalk toward the clothing rack. I’m about to pick the simplest outfit they prepared but Aiden stops me. “Take the second one. Dark red would do a magnificent contrast with your pearly white skin.” He picks up the burgundy silk shirt and the black trousers. “Trust me.”
I eye the outfit, unsure of my final decision. Aiden seems to know a whole lot more about fashion than I. He’s a model after all, he has to know better.
I slip out of my clothes, ignoring his presence and hungry eyes. He helps me button up the shirt in complete silence and smiles eagerly as he fixes the collar. His fingers linger on my throat, and I don’t dare move away, feeling the weight of the tension build up between us.
“Aiden,” I whisper, gazing up at him.
“Mhm.”
My fingers graze his jaw, cupping it and slowly guiding him down where my lips restlessly await his. He smirks and closes the gap between us, biting my lip and making me squirm with need. I press my lower half against his, locking my arm around his neck and deepening the kiss.
This is a bad idea. Areallybad idea.
I startle when the door bursts open and shove him off me. Samantha, Teddy, and Nolan stroll in, bellies full from their donut quest and ready to fix me up for the shoot.
Aiden stares at me, breathless, his eyes dark with lust and needy with desire. What I wouldn’t give for ten more minute alone with him. But maybe it’s for the best that we were interrupted. I’m here for work not to frolic.
Samantha’s eyes narrow on us. “Damn, you chose the perfect outfit. You look hot, Aoi!”
Nolan walks in beside her and unpacks the makeup brushes he forgot earlier. “Can we assume Mr. Morgan had a hand in this choice?”
Aiden grins, skimming over me with a knowing smile and I hate myself for daring to imagine his hands on my skin. That dirty mind will be the death of me.
“Yeah, he was kind enough to help.”
