“Perfect. Since this is a photo shoot, we don’t need to choreograph everything out beforehand. We can stop and take as many breaks as we need, figure it out as we go. Just don’t hesitate to let me know if there’s anything I can do to make this experience more comfortable for you.”
He resisted asking,Could you find me a different partner to do it with?
Dario stopped by to introduce himself next; he was tall and bald with a deep, rich voice and an impressive black beard. He reiterated that he wanted them to feel comfortable and relaxed and, most important, to have fun. Shane was pretty sure he’d have more fun getting his entire body waxed—which, thankfully, they hadn’t asked him to do—but he smiled and nodded and said everything he was supposed to say.
As Dario headed out the door, he turned back to Shane. “By the way—big fan of the show. Do you know yet if they’re finally going to get you two together?”
Shane smiled weakly. “That’s the whole point of today, right?”
Dario grinned. “Exactly. See you out there.”
When Shane crossed the hall to the set, Lilah was already there, getting final touch-ups on her makeup. Someone must have cranked down the thermostat in an attempt to offset the heat from the lights, because it was fucking freezing.
They’d both been styled in an ambiguously retro aesthetic: his hair slicked back, beard freshly trimmed, her with long hair extensions teased high, eyes smoky with dramatic cat-eye makeup.
She was wearing a thin silk slip dress, and as he gave her a quick once-over, he could tell she was cold, too. He refused to let his eyes linger, since she was staring directly at him; he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of catching him checking her out.
She did look good, though. Better than good. He thought about walking the few steps over to her and telling her that, trying to break the ice between them that couldn’t be blamed onthe temperature, but those steps might as well have been miles. The words stuck in his throat, and he turned away as one of the makeup artists came over to give him a touch-up of his own. Someone turned on some mood music, sultry, ambient trip-hop pulsing low and steady through the room.
They started in the suite’s outer room, on a pale pink crushed-velvet couch opposite the fireplace. Lilah sat in the center of the couch, Shane standing behind it, his hands braced on the back. At Dario’s direction, she reached up and grabbed hold of his tie, pulling him closer. When he met her eyes, her expression was guarded and wary, tension vibrating through her neck and jaw.
These pictures probably weren’t very good, but it wasn’t like they’d use them, anyway. This was just about getting the two of them warmed up before they were asked to start shedding layers and crawling all over each other.
Click-click-click. “Good, good. You both look gorgeous. Try to relax a little. Take a deep breath, and exhale. I know we’re still finding our way into it. We have plenty of time.”
Next, Shane sat on the couch, in the corner, his legs spread wide and a lazy arm resting across the back. Dario lowered the camera and called out instructions, gesturing with his free hand.
“Now, Lilah, can you scoot closer—yeah, under his arm, head on his chest, you got it. Stagger your knees a little, point that bottom foot—perfect. Shane, now bring your arm down and look at her.”
She was lying almost completely on her side, nestled flush against him, her legs stretched toward the other end of the couch. She placed one of her hands on his chest, and, against his will, he felt his heart rate speed up.Fuck. If she was already getting to him while they were still fully clothed, this was going to be a long goddamn day.
He stared down at the top of her head, keeping his breathing slow and controlled, trying to narrow his focus to the patterns of the individual strands of hair on her scalp. Nothing sexy about that. But even so, his mouth went dry as he caught a familiar whiff of her lavender shampoo.
“Shane, you’re holding a lot of tension in your face. The bad kind. Try to unlock your jaw a bit.”
Dario had them change positions again. Lilah settled onto her back, against the side of the couch, one arm slung over her head. Her legs were parted, her skirt drifting up her thighs, and he placed one knee between them—not touching her, but still, she shifted uncomfortably, putting even more space there.
With Mercedes checking in every step of the way, Shane loomed over her, his other leg planted on the ground, her free hand clutching his lapel. When he moved his hand to cover her other wrist, the one draped across the arm of the couch, he saw her eyes widen briefly, almost imperceptibly, as his fingers closed around it.
“Lilah, is it okay if he puts his other hand on your thigh?” Mercedes asked.
Her eyelids fluttered slightly, but she nodded. Shane hesitated for a moment before splaying his fingers across the cool, tender skin of her inner thigh, his fingertips brushing the hem of her dress. He looked back up at her face and saw color rising to her cheekbones, and just like that, he was half-hard.Goddammit. Why did she always have to be so fucking responsive?
When he met her eyes, whatever she saw there had her immediately looking away again, her blush deepening.
Dario snapped a few more pictures then glanced over at the display. “You okay, Lilah? You look like he’s about to murder you.”
She laughed, but it came out as more of a choked gasp. “All good over here.”
“Just checking. I think it might be the hand on the jacket. Why don’t you put it on his face instead?”
Lilah released his lapel and brought her hand to the curve of his jaw. Even though he was expecting it, the contact almost made him jump out of his skin—and not just because her hand was freezing. He was so fucking on edge, it was embarrassing.
The only consolation was that he could tell Lilah wasn’t nailing it, either. Her gaze tracked her own hand as she moved her thumb lightly against the grain of his beard, her brow furrowed, like she was trying to solve a complicated equation in her head.
Dario moved around them, making minor adjustments to their poses as he photographed them from various angles, before leaning over to confer with his assistant. The two of them spoke for what seemed like an eternity, leaving Lilah and Shane frozen awkwardly on the couch, avoiding each other’s eyes.
“Let’s set up in the bathroom while you get into your second looks,” he said finally. Shane jumped off Lilah as if he were spring-loaded, his cheek burning where she’d touched him.
