Page 55 of Worth Every Moment

“This is fake,” I say, almost breathless and so quiet that no one else but him could possibly hear it.

“Yeah.” The word is deep and low, and I know, in this moment, he’d agree with whatever I said.

“Just for show,” I repeat, but I’m dizzy with how close he is. The whisper of his breath as it fans my face. The gentle pressure his hands exert on my hips as he eases me towards him and positions me over his crotch. His dick.

“Fucking kiss me, Lefroy,” he says, and before I can process the order, I’m already doing it. My hands are in his hair, palms rasping against the stubble on his jaw, lips pressed to his, soft, warm, and wet when his tongue slips inside my mouth.

I’m kissing Seb. We’re kissing. He’s kissing me.

I moan into him, grinding on his lap, kissing him with a fervor that I really shouldn’t, my hand sliding over his chest, my thumb grazing his nipple.

And that’s when I feel it.Hard. Big.And pressing against my pussy. Holy fuck, is that his dick? Is that Seb Hawkston’s penis, separated from my clit by a couple of layers of clothing?

Excitement flashes through me, and my core throbs, aching with want. I tilt my hips until I’m at just the right angle to rub myself against it… That feelsgood. So good.Too good.

Maybe it’s not his dick. It’s probably the buttons. The thick fabric of the jeans rucked up because of how he’s sitting.

But either way, if I tip forward the pressure isperfect…

“Oh,” I moan, so quietly that only Seb can hear.

“Shit, Lefroy,” he murmurs in response, frustration and desire squeezed in the sound.This has gone too far.It’s supposed to be fake, but knowing I’ve reduced him to such desperation makes my stomach flutter and my heart race.

“Okay, and relax. We’ve got what we need,” says the photographer.

Seb lets his arms slide down until his hands are on my hips again. He’s definitely breathing a little heavy. I go to move off him, but his fingers clamp down.

“Not yet,” he says, voice husky.

My heart thumps. “Are you…”

“Don’t move. Give me a second.”

Oh, my God. Heishard.This might be fake, but his erection is very real. Fire rushes through my bloodstream, a heady sensation of power and lust combined.I made him hard. I cling to him, aware there are at least a dozen pairs of eyes on us. Probably more.Do they know? Do they all know that my clit is thumping and his dick is hard?“Oh, but…” My sentence dangles like a hanged man.

He groans against my neck, breathing steam into my veins. His lips areright there,hovering like butterfly wings over my throat. “Fuck,” he curses, and the strangled sound of his voice is almost enough to tip me over the edge. His hands tighten, fingers anchoring into my flesh, his quads tense beneath my thighs.

We cannot do this. I’m about to shift off him again when his head snaps up and his gaze locks onto the photographer. “Get out.”

I gasp. “Wait, Seb—”

“I… uh…” begins the photographer.

Seb jerks his chin. “What’s she paying you?”

The photographer’s gaze flicks between us, but he must decide Seb is the one in charge because he says, “Five thousand.”

“I’ll pay you ten times that to get the fuck out of here and take everyone with you. Clear the room.”

“But—”

“I need five minutes with my girl. Now.”

My girl.

The photographer’s eyes peel wide, and for a second he stares, gaze bouncing between us, but then he makes his decision. “Everyone. Out,” he calls, spreading his arms and shooing them like an alarmed herd of sheep.

When they’re gone, the studio falls deadly silent, me still straddling Seb’s lap. The beat of my heart slows, but I’m hyper alert, aware of everything from the tension of my bra strap constricting my ribs on every inhalation, to the abrasive rub of his jeans against my bare thighs and the press of his erection still edging against the lace of my underwear. And his hands…his handson my skin.