Down, motherfucker. Behave.
“Of course.” She murmurs. Kaden strides past, opening the door. He waves them inside. Autumn comes last. My hand hovers at the small of her back, close enough to feel her warmth. I want to grab her, drag her against me, breathe her in.
I’m losing my fucking mind.
“You can use every inch of the club except for my office.” My voice sounds steadier than I feel.
“Thank you, Flynn.” She chirps, hurrying down the stairs towards the couches.
The makeup artist sets up her kit on a tall table, already calling a model over. Autumn and Mackellan stand near one of the steel bars, heads bent together.
“Flynn, haven’t seen you in a while.” A voice whispers behind me.
“Alexia.”
She smiles, trailing her finger down the collar of my suit jacket. “I missed you.”
We fucked months ago. She left for Paris. I didn’t care enough to notice.
Kaden clears his throat. I glance at him, then follow his eyes down to the floor. Autumn is watching us; her eyes go from me to Alexia, and it’s the way she looks down and moves along that twists sharply in my chest. I step back and peel Alexia’s hand from me.
“Don’t mistake our orgasm for more than it was.” I drop her hand. She gasps, offended. “You’re here to work.” I nod at Kaden and head to my office.
“That was harsh.” He chuckles, dropping onto the couch. I turn on the video wall, every camera trained on her.
“She wanted more. I don’t do more.” My voice is flat.
He hums, low. “Is that the truth, or did you just not want Autumn thinking you had something with a model?”
I don’t answer. My fists tighten at my sides as I watch her. She moves around the set, placing bottles and glasses by the couch, as she shrugs off her jacket. Black jeans, trainers, a brown blouse slipping off one shoulder. Her hair’s knotted in a bun, glasses sliding down her nose.
The model leans into the couch. Autumn shakes her head. They try again. Still not right. She sets her camera down, steps forward, and bends to demonstrate with her arse up, legs apart, head thrown back.
I lean into the monitor, breath rough, jaw clenched. My whole body throbs.
“You’re staring.” Kaden smirks. “You’ll be drooling any second now.”
“Fucking hell, Kaden.” I stand and start pacing. He’s right, I am almost drooling, and this is stupid. I kill men with my bare hands, and I’m here looking at a screen like a fucking teenager.
My computer dings with a notification, an email from Declan, and it’s the perfect excuse to just take my mind off that woman.
“They are done.” Kaden tells me, and I take a long breath before I stand. I shrug off my jacket and roll my sleeves up, feeling the cloth slide over the muscles in my forearms. My hands are steady when I hold the paperwork for the next shipment from Portugal, but my pulse is still racing under my skin.
Her voice floats up from downstairs as the makeup artist packs away and the models leave through the back exit, where one of my bouncers waits. Autumn climbs the stairs, like a small sun in a room full of shadows, her signature innocent smile brighteningeverything.
“The pictures turned out amazing.” Her excitement is honest. “Do you want to see some of them?”
I stare, and she goes a deeper red. “Never mind, sorry, you’re busy.” She fumbles for her camera.
Without thinking, I reach and grip her arm. She gasps and turns. I step in, not letting go. She doesn’t pull away. Heat runs up my palm at the feel of her skin.
“Show me.” I bend close, my breath ghosting across her shoulder. Her fingers tremble as she turns the camera on and flicks through the images, one by one. Viviana was right; she is good.
She talks about the angles, each pose, her voice warm and a little shaky. “Sorry, I’m babbling.”
“You’re not. You have talent, and I like to hear you talk.” It comes out rougher than I intend; the truth tastes like iron in my mouth.
Kaden moves closer. “Hi.” She nods to him, and he returns a crooked smile with a small tilt of his head.
