Page 7 of B is for Beg

“I won’t. I want to go the gym before I head home.”

“You’d best not spend too long drooling at photos of Blake.”

Laughing, I sit at my desk to start the process of transferring the photos off my camera. I probably will work late into the evening, and I might not make it to the gym, but at least I’ll be staring at photos of a stunning subject.

Much later, I send a watermarked version of my favourite photo to Gabe, along with Blake’s name and phone number.

Cal:I’ve found a new model for you.

Gabe:Wow. So you have. Does he know what I do?

Cal:No. I thought I’d leave that up to you. How does he compare to the model you’ve got lined up for Thursday?

Gabe:What model?

Clearly, I’m not the only one who can appreciate Blake’s beauty ‘objectively’. Chuckling to myself, I turn my computer off and grab my coat. My stomach is rumbling, but I decide to head to the twenty-four-hour gym I’m a member of before going home to get some food. With a bit of luck, I’ll be seeing Blake again on Thursday evening, and this time, I won’t need to be quite so professional.

3

Gabe

Coffee shops are safe places to meet potential models. As shibari is a sideline for me, I don’t have an office. I’m not going to invite them to my home, and I can only use Cal’s studio out of hours.

I’ve already got a mug of coffee, so I don’t get chased off for taking up a table without ordering. I’m halfway through drinking it, even though I’m sipping it slowly. Unfortunately, the model I’m meant to be meeting is late, which isn’t the best first impression. I decide to give him until I’ve finished my drink. Then I’ll go. I take a couple of big gulps, leaving nothing but dregs. Time’s up, Blake Morris.

I reach for my coat, pausing as the young man from the photo Cal sent enters the coffee shop. He stands in the doorway, breathing heavily as he stares at each table. His light brown hair is plastered to his forehead, and I can see sweat glistening on his brow. He’s obviously been running. I wave when his stare travels over me, and he hurries over.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” he says between harsh intakes of breath. “The train I was on broke down between platforms.”

I don’t doubt his story. It happens occasionally and can bring an entire line of the tube network to a standstill. Hecouldbe lying, but he seems genuine enough. My biggest annoyance is that he could have sent me a text to let me know he was running late once he was above ground. On the other hand, it looks like he sprinted all the way from the tube station, so I can forgive him.

“Don’t be late again,” I say in a strict tone.

He nods and then shakes his head. “I’ll try not to be. You are Gabe, right?”

I chuckle. “Yes,” I confirm, just to allay any concerns he might have about talking to random guys in the middle of London. We talked briefly on the phone last night so I could invite him for a chat about working with me.

“I’m Blake.” He holds his hand out.

“I know.”

I realise he’s wearing a small amount of make-up because the blush that illuminates his cheeks doesn’t quite match up with where he’s placed the blusher. I accept his proffered hand, which is a little clammy from running. Not that it detracts from how soft his skin is.

“Would you like a drink?” I ask.

He glances at the giant menu behind the tills. “Umm… iced tea, please.” He reaches into his coat pocket.

“I’ll get it,” I say, holding my hand up.

I go to the counter while he catches his breath and takes his coat off. He seems flustered, which is sweet. Already, I’m imagining what patterns I could make across his body with ropes and knots. The pale colour of natural hemp rope will create a wonderful contrast with his tanned skin. I’m getting ahead of myself. Although Blake agreed to meet me, he might not be interested at all once he knows exactly what this modelling job will entail.

He seems more relaxed when I bring the drinks to the table. I’ve opted for coffee again, even though I’ll probably regret it later.

“Thank you,” he says.

I smile. “Yesterday was your first time working for Cal?”

He nods and drinks a little of the iced tea through a paper straw. I’m drawn to the way his lips close around the tip of the straw. “We were both working for UnMentionable. I’m sure he told you.”