Page 15 of The Burdens We Share (Satan’s Angels #3)

Ivory

Since finding the note in my trailer with that fucking stupid rose three days ago, I’ve been mostly laying low.

I haven’t had to go back to set just yet because they started filming some scenes about Brody’s life before the band first, which I was glad for because it gave me more time to study and memorize my lines.

I haven’t stressed over the fact that I have a packet to memorize because I was there for these events when they actually happened. Nobody knows them better than me.

Dallas and I haven’t spoken much. We just exchange greetings when we’re in the same room of my house, but other than that we haven’t really been in each other’s way or spoken.

I’ve just spent my time following the workout routine that Nara made for me, and I’ve been eating more, though the meals are bland if you can even call them meals. It’s mostly just salads and some fruit.

In all honesty, I’m fucking starving. I wish I could house a whole pizza, but every time I think of anything but fruits and veggies, I remind myself that I need to look more like Cami. And I’ll admit, my stomach is starting to look a little flatter.

I hop off the treadmill in my home gym, sweating profusely in my white workout shorts and tank top.

I wipe the sweat off my face with a fluffy towel and head upstairs to the kitchen.

According to Nara’s nutrition plan, I need to have a light meal after I exercise so that I don’t feel weak.

When I enter the kitchen, I find Dallas seated at the white marble counter on a barstool, his eyes locked on his computer screen as he continues to comb through security footage from the set.

He looks up at me and I watch as his eyes roam over every square inch of me. I suddenly feel self-conscious.

I’m a nasty, sweaty mess. My cheeks turn pink with embarrassment and he meets my eyes, “How long were you in the gym?”

I walk over to the refrigerator and open the door. I grab a green juice and some mixed berries and answer, “I think two hours, maybe a little more.”

I place my meal on the counter and he looks at it with disapproval before he glances back up at me. “You should be eating protein after you workout.”

I pop a raspberry in my mouth and shake my head, “That isn’t on my nutrition plan.”

He scoffs, “Who wrote your nutrition plan?”

I take a sip of the bitter-tasting green juice, “Nara, my modeling agent.”

He rolls his eyes, “Your modeling agent clearly isn’t qualified to be making you a nutrition plan of any kind.”

I snap, “And you are?”

“I think you forget I have to keep my body in top shape so I can excel in my area of work. Security requires me to be fit, so yes, I am qualified,” he tilts his head at me in annoyance.

I grab my measly berry bowl and juice and walk out of the kitchen, ignoring him. Just as I’m about to head upstairs I call over my shoulder, “I have a photoshoot in two hours so be ready to leave.”

He remains silent, but there’s something about commanding him to do something that empowers me. Dallas is not the kind of man who takes orders from anyone or who gets told what to do. I wonder if I’ll have to pay for my boldness later in some way.

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DALLAS OPENS A HEAVY door for me as I enter the building and am immediately swarmed by Nara and about three other people who work on the set.

She has an angry look fixed on her face and she scowls as she takes me in from head to toe, “There you are. You were almost late. Let’s go. Hair and makeup is waiting for you.”

I nod, ready to follow her when her eyes flick over to Dallas who’s at my back. Her eyes soften and the angry expression vanishes. In its place is a flirtatious and pretentious expression. She grins from ear to ear as she runs her slimy eyes all over him, “Well, hello. Who are you?”

He doesn’t return any of her interest, “Ivory’s security.”

Nara looks at me and tilts her head, “Security? Ivory, you didn’t tell me you had a security guard.

Especially not one so handsome,” she looks back at him as she says the last few words.

I wonder if her face would get stuck like that if she continued the fake smile.

Nara is a nasty bitch. She doesn’t smile.

She just sees a man as good-looking as Dallas and in an expensive suit and she’s ready to sink her claws into him.

The thought makes my stomach churn and forces bitterness up my throat.

I don’t know why her openly flirting with him is irritating me so bad.

Maybe it’s just because I’m hungry and I’m getting a little angry.

I’ll just chalk it up to that. I look over my shoulder and up at Dallas and he gives me an annoyed look that tells me he’s not a fan of Nara.

I smirk at him and look back at Nara, “Where’s hair and makeup? ”

She points to the hair and makeup chair and I start walking.

Dallas is close at my back and Nara cuts him off from me, immediately trying to sink her claws into him.

I stop walking and glare at her back. Dallas meets my eyes over her shoulder and we share a moment of silent communication before he cuts her off impatiently, “Nara, please get out of my way. I need to be with my client.”

Nara turns around and shoots me an icy glare before she storms off. Dallas catches up to me and I laugh as we walk to the hair and makeup area, “She’s such a sweetheart, isn’t she?”

Dallas has no humor in his voice, “That woman is evil.”

“Now you see what I have to put up with,” I laugh.

We make it to the hair and makeup chair and I take a seat. Immediately the makeup artist starts on my face and the hairstylist on my hair. Dallas watches the entire time and I feel my cheeks warming under his eyes.

They finish my hair and makeup in about thirty minutes and when they’re finished, I chance a look at myself in the mirror. My hair is curled into loose, beachy waves, and my makeup is very sultry and sexy looking. Perfect for the type of modeling I’m about to be doing.

Nara reappears and I want to groan, but I keep my mouth shut. She looks me over and frowns, “I guess you’ll do.” She starts walking to the dressing room and commands, “Follow me.”

I follow her and once again, Dallas is at my back the entire time like my shadow.

When we make it to the dressing room, he positions himself right outside the door as I step inside.

The baby pink lingerie set I’ll be modeling hangs on the rack before me.

I immediately put it on and avoid looking in the mirror.

While I definitely feel better now that I’m following Nara’s nutrition and workout plan, I know I still don’t look like Cami.

Therefore, I plan on avoiding looking in the mirror and getting triggered by my proportions.

Instead, I just take in how beautiful the lingerie itself is as I look down.

It has rhinestones all over it and sparkles perfectly against the light.

I reach for the door to step out and realize Dallas is right outside.

He’s going to see me in this. My cheeks warm and I suddenly feel a wave of panic.

What if he looks at me and sees exactly what Nara sees?

I don’t know why, but the thought of Dallas seeing me as anything but perfect unsettles me.

I’m not sure when his opinion started to matter so much.

But it does. I shouldn’t care what he thinks.

He’s just Harvey’s business partner, Selene’s friend, and my bodyguard for the time being.

So why do I care so much what he thinks about me?

A small knock sounds on the door, “Ivory, you alright?” It’s Dallas.

“Fine,” I squeak.

“Are you sure?”

I open the door a crack and find his eyes immediately. He gives me a look as if he’s on alert. “Turn around,” I command.

He raises a brow at me in confusion, “Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to see what I’m wearing,” I admit, insecurity in my voice.

He shakes his head at me like I’m acting immature, “I’m not taking my eyes off of you. That’s part of my job description, remember?”

My cheeks flame, “Please,” I beg.

He frowns, “No. Now come out before Nara finds me and harasses me.”

I pity him only slightly. Being the object of Nara’s attention is similar to being raw meat placed in front of a starved lion. “I’m embarrassed,” I whisper.

Dallas looks as if I just made the dumbest statement ever, “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Now get out.” His tone picks up towards the end and I immediately feel that need to obey him.

I don’t know if it’s the tone of voice he uses or if it’s just him, but he makes it impossible for me to disobey his commands.

We both engage in a silent stare-down, Dallas’ intense hazel eyes boring into me until I submit.

A minute later, I sigh and open the door all the way, knowing I’m fighting a losing battle.

When he gets a full view of me in this lingerie set, I cringe.

His eyes rake over every square inch of me and damn him for having such an unreadable face.

I can’t tell if he’s seeing imperfections or if he thinks I look good.

Again, why does it matter to me what he thinks?

Dallas

WHEN MY EYES LAND on the little devil in little to no fabric, my cock hardens and my balls go tight.

I’ve never seen anything so perfect in my life.

This isn’t the first time I’ve seen Ivory’s figure.

Those little outfits she wears on stage when she performs or out on a normal day don’t leave much to the imagination, but this?

For her stature, she’s incredibly small.

She has slim arms and a flat stomach. Her legs are thin too and her breasts are full for her body.

I imagine they would fit perfectly in my palms. She has a perky ass and an hourglass figure.

And she said she was embarrassed? Does she not realize how many women would kill to have her face, let alone her body?