We haven’t done anything.
Yet.
Reaching back, I do as he says, having to lean back a little so I don’t lose balance. But Felix doesn’t care. He makes a sound of pure lust, a snarling, moaning noise like he can’t help himself.
“Fuck,” he whispers. “I was right. You are wet.”
My fingers try to release my flesh as a blush colors my cheeks, but I hold it there, force myself to stare at him, to savor this.
I’mmaking Felix Fallon look like that, as though he’s on the verge of completely letting go.
“Am I?” I murmur, though I know I am.
My sex is burning up, my lips are swollen, and my clit is tickling against my panties.
He takes a step forward, his bulging manhood a bare foot from my ass, staring down at me.
“You need to know something,” he growls. “I’m never going to share these photos with anybody. I swear, Faye. I’d kill any bastard who tried to look at these. Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” I say at once.
But I know it could be a mistake.
As far as I know, he could’ve done this before, with other women.
Maybe he shares the photos….
Except he wouldn’t. While he never noticed me when I was a dorky teenager, I paid attention to him. I paid attention to his charity work, the friendly way he deals with waiters and valets, and his general goodness.
It could be a front.
But surely Lola would’ve mentioned if her dad wasn’t the person he was pretending to be.
At least now, thinking about Lola is a mistake because it just makes my belly twist with fresh guilt.
“Good,” he snarls, taking a step back and raising his camera. “Because I need to see that perfect body naked.”