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I wasn’t sure whether she didn’t like that being pointed out or whether she didn’t want to admit she was affected by what was unfolding before her eyes. Wasn’t she here after all because money had
been thrown at her charity by people who could afford to contribute ten times more?
‘Do you want to be included in the video?’ I asked.
She remained silent for several seconds, then shook her head. ‘I’ll let the environment speak for
itself.’
I throttled back my surprise. She’d just passed up the perfect opportunity to get in front of the
camera. A camera manned by me. According to my agent, her PM hadn’t shied away from tossing his
boss’s name into their phone conversations at every opportunity in an attempt to sway me. While I
knew now he’d bent the truth to suit his purposes, I also knew most people wouldn’t pass up an
opportunity to be photographed by Jensen Scott.
I came within a whisker of being impressed before I reminded myself this was just the beginning.
Women like Graciela Mortimer wouldn’t overplay their hand with over-eagerness. If anything, she’d
expectmeto talk her into it.
She’d be waiting a long time for that. I ignored her, shooting a three-minute video in sharp focus, the white landscape capturing the stark story.
‘Are you ready to go?’ I asked once the echoes had receded and the equipment was packed away.
She nodded. ‘Where to next?’ she asked briskly.
‘Depends. Do you want to show all the gloom or is your piece aimed towards reminding people of
the glory too?’
‘The aim is for more shock than awe but I’d like to use the time efficiently. So whatever’s closest.’
‘How about we kill two birds with one stone, so to speak?’
‘As figures of speech go, I wouldn’t have reached for that one. And for some reason I think you
wouldn’t have either. Now I’m totally convinced you’re trying to get a rise out of me, Mr Scott.’
I was, and a small part of me cringed at the pettiness. ‘It’s Jensen.’
Again, one corner of her mouth tilted, drawing my gaze to the overfull lower lip. Its juicy
plumpness and far too lickable curve. Almost in slow, torturous motion, a perfect picture slid into my brain of those lips wrapped around my cock, drawing sweet torment with every suck. I didn’t have a
single doubt that Graciela would know just how to suck me off. She was far too confident in her
femininity not to be an expert in all things coitus.
‘Is it?’ she taunted in answer to my offer.
I might have been attempting to rile her, but she was having a ball reciprocating.
‘Is there a reason you refuse to use my first name?’