Read Online #Swag (GearShark #3) by Cambria Hebert - Free Book Online
Authors: Cambria Hebert
Ads: Link
about that either.
I got to the door first and pulled it open, stepped back so everyone else could go in first.
The guy with the camera hanging off him stopped abruptly and turned, Emily (the journalist) almost ran right into him. She shrieked and pulled up short, just shy of barreling into his back.
“It’s a tight space,” he said. “Just me and the models, please.”
Forrester and Trent were on either side of Joey, like they planned to go in with her to protect her honor. It irritated me.
“I don’t know,” Drew intoned and stepped forward, he glanced at me with a hard, untrusting look in his eye.
I smiled, letting all my pearly whites show.
“Hey, bro.” I called out to Arrow. He spun around, pink blooming over his cheeks. I glanced around, wondering what the fuck he’d been staring at, but I didn’t see anything.
With a grunt, I pulled my keys out and tossed them through the air. “Watch my car. I might be a while.”
Drew growled.
Trent stepped up, hands at his sides like he was ready to throw down.
Joey rolled her eyes and glanced at them. “I can handle this.”
Trent nodded, but then both men stared at me. Was I supposed to be intimidated?
The photographer was already inside, and Joey breezed past, not even giving me the time of day. Her scent lingered even after she’d moved past. It wasn’t a girly, flowery smell.
Instead, it was sweet and deep… like sugar and spice.
Naughty and nice.
I waved at Drew and Trent before allowing the door to swing shut behind me.
Assholes.
Inside was bright, like so bright my eyes needed to adjust. Goddamn. He must have had a million lights turned on. All of them pointed at a white backdrop, lighting it up like the Fourth of July.
“It’s going to get hot in here because of all the bulbs,” he cautioned, moving around to flip on a few oscillating fans. “We’ll try and get this done quickly so you can get to the interview.”
Joey was standing at the edge of the backdrop, sort of in the shadows of all the lights. I moved up beside her. I thought she would step away, but she didn’t.
Instead, her green eyes caught mine, and she smiled like a cat. “Ready for this?”
“Bring it on.”
“Okay, let’s start out with some basic shots,” the photographer instructed, taking up position on the white-draped floor.
We moved in front of him and followed his instructions as he took what felt like five hundred pictures.
They were boring and basic. They made my hands itch and a very large part of me pissy. And, true to his word, the small square space felt like it was a million degrees.
Enough was enough. I reached out, palmed Joey’s hips, and pulled her into me. Instantly, Joey arched, like a cat. Her narrow waist bowed out, but her neck and shoulders thrust against my upper body.
One of her hands came up and wrapped around the back of my head; her fingers brushed over the nearly buzzed hair at my hairline.
“Oh, that’s good,” the photographer murmured, taking pics.
I delved my hand into the front pocket of her jeans, and she rocked her hip into my hand.
“We need music.” The photographer said and looked away to switch on a portable music source.
Sound filled the space. It was heavy with bass and made my hand pull her arched-out ass to me. I got two seconds of the luscious junk against me before she spun away.
Her eyes beguiled me, eager hands grabbing the open edges of my shirt and yanking. The fabric slid free of my shoulders and bunched low around my elbows, baring my entire upper body.
I arched an eyebrow at her, and her heart-shaped mouth curled upward. The fans blew her hair out around her face and tugged at the tank she wore. I dug my fingers into her waist, enjoying the way it curved in. Her hourglass figure was basically built for my hands.
“Sex sells,” the photographer mumbled, but I barely heard him.
I was too focused on her.
We took a few more photos facing each other, my bare chest against her clothed one,
I got to the door first and pulled it open, stepped back so everyone else could go in first.
The guy with the camera hanging off him stopped abruptly and turned, Emily (the journalist) almost ran right into him. She shrieked and pulled up short, just shy of barreling into his back.
“It’s a tight space,” he said. “Just me and the models, please.”
Forrester and Trent were on either side of Joey, like they planned to go in with her to protect her honor. It irritated me.
“I don’t know,” Drew intoned and stepped forward, he glanced at me with a hard, untrusting look in his eye.
I smiled, letting all my pearly whites show.
“Hey, bro.” I called out to Arrow. He spun around, pink blooming over his cheeks. I glanced around, wondering what the fuck he’d been staring at, but I didn’t see anything.
With a grunt, I pulled my keys out and tossed them through the air. “Watch my car. I might be a while.”
Drew growled.
Trent stepped up, hands at his sides like he was ready to throw down.
Joey rolled her eyes and glanced at them. “I can handle this.”
Trent nodded, but then both men stared at me. Was I supposed to be intimidated?
The photographer was already inside, and Joey breezed past, not even giving me the time of day. Her scent lingered even after she’d moved past. It wasn’t a girly, flowery smell.
Instead, it was sweet and deep… like sugar and spice.
Naughty and nice.
I waved at Drew and Trent before allowing the door to swing shut behind me.
Assholes.
Inside was bright, like so bright my eyes needed to adjust. Goddamn. He must have had a million lights turned on. All of them pointed at a white backdrop, lighting it up like the Fourth of July.
“It’s going to get hot in here because of all the bulbs,” he cautioned, moving around to flip on a few oscillating fans. “We’ll try and get this done quickly so you can get to the interview.”
Joey was standing at the edge of the backdrop, sort of in the shadows of all the lights. I moved up beside her. I thought she would step away, but she didn’t.
Instead, her green eyes caught mine, and she smiled like a cat. “Ready for this?”
“Bring it on.”
“Okay, let’s start out with some basic shots,” the photographer instructed, taking up position on the white-draped floor.
We moved in front of him and followed his instructions as he took what felt like five hundred pictures.
They were boring and basic. They made my hands itch and a very large part of me pissy. And, true to his word, the small square space felt like it was a million degrees.
Enough was enough. I reached out, palmed Joey’s hips, and pulled her into me. Instantly, Joey arched, like a cat. Her narrow waist bowed out, but her neck and shoulders thrust against my upper body.
One of her hands came up and wrapped around the back of my head; her fingers brushed over the nearly buzzed hair at my hairline.
“Oh, that’s good,” the photographer murmured, taking pics.
I delved my hand into the front pocket of her jeans, and she rocked her hip into my hand.
“We need music.” The photographer said and looked away to switch on a portable music source.
Sound filled the space. It was heavy with bass and made my hand pull her arched-out ass to me. I got two seconds of the luscious junk against me before she spun away.
Her eyes beguiled me, eager hands grabbing the open edges of my shirt and yanking. The fabric slid free of my shoulders and bunched low around my elbows, baring my entire upper body.
I arched an eyebrow at her, and her heart-shaped mouth curled upward. The fans blew her hair out around her face and tugged at the tank she wore. I dug my fingers into her waist, enjoying the way it curved in. Her hourglass figure was basically built for my hands.
“Sex sells,” the photographer mumbled, but I barely heard him.
I was too focused on her.
We took a few more photos facing each other, my bare chest against her clothed one,
Similar Books
