“It’s big all right,” I said. “What exactly do you want us to do today?”
My eyes went to the blood-red silk sheets, and I wondered how they would feel against my skin.
I’d heard a little bit about what we would be doing from Derek, since he was the one who’d asked me for Avery, but ‘taking some photos and shit’ could mean anything.
“Derek didn’t tell you anything?” Avery asked.
“Derek told me that we would be ‘taking some pictures and shit’ with another chick that I didn’t know.” I paused. “That was it.”
Avery’s face went red with annoyance. “That man.”
The way she said ‘that man’ made me nervous.
“I told him to tell you everything,” she said as she fiddled with the big white lamp, looking at things that were on either side of the bed. “Umm...” She hesitated. “This is what they call a stranger photoshoot.”
My brows went up. “Okay…”
“A stranger photoshoot is what you would call, ummm, more erotic in nature.” She winced. “I take photos of y’all, together. As if y’all were a couple. Some can be intimate. Some can be whatever y’all want, really. Whatever y’all are comfortable with.”
My gut clenched.
“Avery…” I was about to tell her not only no, but hell no, but then who I assumed was Amelia walked into the room.
My breath caught at the first sight of her, and the aching burn of my lungs needing air started to filter through me.
“Sorry about that,” the woman who entered said, oblivious of me being in the room. “I’m… oh.”
The woman was short, about my breastbone in height. She had long, curly black hair that reached down to her waist. Her eyes were what I would call green, but holy fuck were they a brilliant green, and they really popped with the tank she was wearing.
And God, she was in cut-off shorts.
Cut-off shorts, on a pair of shapely thighs, were my weakness.
My eyes trailed from the top of her head to her boots—goddamn, she was wearing cowboy boots with her cut-off jean shorts—and then back up again.
“Your eyes are gorgeous,” I found myself blurting. Why had I said that? Shit. “Green’s my favorite color.”
She grinned hesitantly, a quirky smile that looked as if she was unsure of whether she should be liking the comment. “They’re actually hazel. They pick up the colors of whatever I’m wearing. Today, green.”
She touched the army green of her tank top and smiled tremulously at me.
“Umm, you’re Adam?” she asked, holding out her hand. “I’m Amelia.”
I reached forward and took her hand in mine, struck fucking stupid at the small, delicate hand that felt like the world in mine.
God, it was soft. I could crush it with one squeeze.
Not that I ever would, but the fact that she was so delicate made all sorts of protective instincts start to march to the forefront of my mind.
“Adam didn’t know what y’all were doing today.” Avery sighed. “Dammit. I’m going to kill Derek.”
Amelia looked at me and blushed. “Yeah, this is weird. Isn’t it weird?”
It was weird.
But suddenly I didn’t find myself quite so reluctant to be doing a stranger photoshoot with this particular stranger.
She tugged her hand away, and that was when I realized that I’d been holding it for a long, inappropriate amount of time.
Jesus, there I was coming off as a creeper, and she was about to take erotic photos with me.
Nice.
Good going, Stoker.
But, as she dropped her hand, it looked like it was almost as if she was reluctant to do so.
“Okay,” Avery said as she ran her hands through her hair, momentarily taking my gaze away from Amelia. “Let me go grab a few things… y’all… get to know each other.”
Avery left us alone in her room, reminding me of the biggest goddamn bed that I’d ever seen only being a few inches away.
“This is some bed,” I found myself saying to break the awkward silence.
Amelia’s green eyes went from me to the bed, and then back to me.
She licked her lips, then burst out laughing.
“This is awkward as fuck,” she admitted. “I don’t want you to think that it’s you or anything.” She paused. “Well, it is kind of you, if we’re being truthful. You’re hot, and I’m awkward, don’t talk to anyone new, and you look like this.”
She gestured to my body with a sweep of her hands, which had me grinning.
“I’m nothing special,” I told her honestly.
I was just a normal guy.
At least, I thought I was, anyway.
Amelia’s snort of disbelief had my brows raising in question.
“Just take it from me. You’re not normal,” she said, her eyes wide. “I work at a strip club. I see guys all night long. Trust me when I say, you’re so far from normal that it’s not even funny.”
“You work in a strip club?” I asked.
Her lips twitched. “I do. But, just sayin’, I only work there because I know it’ll piss my dad and brothers off. I gotta keep them on their toes, and to do that I try to find the most obnoxious jobs that I can find.”