Page 18
Story: Driving Him Wild
Her lips tightened, but she didn’t answer, her gaze flitting over the landscape to pause thoughtfully on the waterfall. ‘That’s...disturbing.’
Suddenly, I didn’t want to film the waterfall. I wanted to capture her reaction, the way the failing light teased shadows and light over her features.
She would be an interesting subject to photograph. My fingers clenched around the camera, the
insane urge to aim my lens at her, zoom in close and catch every emotion, swelling higher with each moment. It grew strong enough to zap alarm through me.
‘Perhaps we should get on with it?’
I didn’t reply. Wasn’t sure I wanted to interact with her while in the throes of...whatever this was.
Instead, I went to work, getting a vast array of shots so I didn’t miss a thing. When I was satisfied, I put my equipment away and glanced at my watch.
‘Gloom or glory?’ I asked. I had a site for either in mind I could squeeze in tonight, and her brief had called for five location shoots. While the cracking glacier earlier had been a bonus, I was
technically required to do three more. I glanced over at her, caught the shiver she tried to hide. ‘Or are you ready to call it a day?’
Her gaze shifted to the covered equipment at the back of the sled. ‘Did I spot a tent in there?’
I frowned, inexplicably tensing. ‘Yes. Why do you ask?’
‘Did you plan on spending the night on the snow?’
‘Not tonight.’ And certainly not with her in tow. The last thing I needed was her kind of distraction.
‘When?’ she pressed.
‘At some point. When you’re not here,’ I added pointedly.
Again she surprised me by smiling where I’d expected her to be offended. She approached, not
stopping until our bodies were six inches apart.
‘Guess what my favourite game is, Mr Scott,’ she murmured, her voice low, husky and sensually
loaded enough to achieve its aim of curling tight around my cock.
‘Winding people up?’
‘Wrong,’ she breathed. ‘That’s mysecondfavourite. My first is Tug of War. Care to know my percentage on wins?’
‘Sure. Enlighten me.’
She leaned up and in, until our condensed breaths mingled. And fuck if that didn’t heat my blood.
‘It’s high, Mr Scott.Veryhigh.’
‘Very high doesn’t mean one hundred per cent. Which means on occasion you lose.’
Her smile widened. ‘Perhaps. But you’re contractually obliged to give me what I want.’
‘Or what? You’re going to fire me? I’m the best,’ I answered, with a tinge of well-earned
arrogance. ‘Your PM told you that or you wouldn’t have hired me.’
‘Nothing as melodramatic as firing you. More along the lines of thinking you wouldn’t want to deny
a client’s reasonable request. Would you?’
Suddenly, I didn’t want to film the waterfall. I wanted to capture her reaction, the way the failing light teased shadows and light over her features.
She would be an interesting subject to photograph. My fingers clenched around the camera, the
insane urge to aim my lens at her, zoom in close and catch every emotion, swelling higher with each moment. It grew strong enough to zap alarm through me.
‘Perhaps we should get on with it?’
I didn’t reply. Wasn’t sure I wanted to interact with her while in the throes of...whatever this was.
Instead, I went to work, getting a vast array of shots so I didn’t miss a thing. When I was satisfied, I put my equipment away and glanced at my watch.
‘Gloom or glory?’ I asked. I had a site for either in mind I could squeeze in tonight, and her brief had called for five location shoots. While the cracking glacier earlier had been a bonus, I was
technically required to do three more. I glanced over at her, caught the shiver she tried to hide. ‘Or are you ready to call it a day?’
Her gaze shifted to the covered equipment at the back of the sled. ‘Did I spot a tent in there?’
I frowned, inexplicably tensing. ‘Yes. Why do you ask?’
‘Did you plan on spending the night on the snow?’
‘Not tonight.’ And certainly not with her in tow. The last thing I needed was her kind of distraction.
‘When?’ she pressed.
‘At some point. When you’re not here,’ I added pointedly.
Again she surprised me by smiling where I’d expected her to be offended. She approached, not
stopping until our bodies were six inches apart.
‘Guess what my favourite game is, Mr Scott,’ she murmured, her voice low, husky and sensually
loaded enough to achieve its aim of curling tight around my cock.
‘Winding people up?’
‘Wrong,’ she breathed. ‘That’s mysecondfavourite. My first is Tug of War. Care to know my percentage on wins?’
‘Sure. Enlighten me.’
She leaned up and in, until our condensed breaths mingled. And fuck if that didn’t heat my blood.
‘It’s high, Mr Scott.Veryhigh.’
‘Very high doesn’t mean one hundred per cent. Which means on occasion you lose.’
Her smile widened. ‘Perhaps. But you’re contractually obliged to give me what I want.’
‘Or what? You’re going to fire me? I’m the best,’ I answered, with a tinge of well-earned
arrogance. ‘Your PM told you that or you wouldn’t have hired me.’
‘Nothing as melodramatic as firing you. More along the lines of thinking you wouldn’t want to deny
a client’s reasonable request. Would you?’
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