“He was certainly convincing then.”
Tiffany chuckles to herself as she exits my dressing room, leaving me alone.
Was Cameron watching me more than I realized?
I don’t know for sure that he was… but I do know that I like the thought of it a hell of a lot more than I should.
Shit.
twenty-one
Cameron
I’msogratefulIcan finally rip this damn turtleneck off.
I’m sure it looked great in the pictures beside Zhuri in her green dress, but I hate turtlenecks. I feel like I’m getting choked.
The only time I like choking is in the bedroom, and that is very muchnotwhat’s happening here.
Oh, but my sinful mind sure does like wandering.
Zhuri walked out of her dressing room in that gold dress earlier, and all I could picture was the way it would look on my bedroom floor.
I’m not the fuckboy everyone thinks, but I do still like sex, and apparently, my mind is starting to picture that with Zhuri.
With any luck, she’ll come out in a burlap sack for the last part of this shoot. I’m sure that will tie in well with the black slacks, white button-down with rolled sleeves, and black suspenders I’m wearing.
Of course, I’m not that lucky.
No, Zhuri’s last look is so far from the burlap sack I wish it was.
Her gown is a deep red with a floral lace overlay. The slit in the skirt comes up to the top of her thigh, and the neckline plunges in a deep V down her torso, showing off the swells of her breasts.
Fuck me.
I meanfuck me, she looks good, notfuck me, please right now.
Totally what I meant.
I take a deep breath and shake the forbidden thoughts from my head before walking up to Zhuri.
“You look good, Hart,” I whisper as I place my open palm on her shoulder, feeling that same goddamn zap of electricity I felt earlier today.
There’s a connection between us, and it’s almost impossible to deny it anymore.
And I don’t even want to deny it.
I’ll keep it to myself, though.
Zhuri’s gaze leers over me now, and I see her eyes tracing the lines of the tattoos on my forearms.
“Thank you,” she finally replies softly. “I’m not used to wearing things like this.”
“Shame,” I smirk, letting my palm run down her bare arm, feeling the goosebumps my touch leaves in its wake. “The look suits you, Zhuri baby.”
“If I didn’t know any better,” she breathes, averting her eyes, “I’d think you were trying to flirt with me, Cammy.”
That’s because I am, Zhuri.
