I’d come here to convince Sine to work for me again. That had been it. But just like every other time I’d had good intentions when it came to her, they went out the window as soon as she was in front of me.

I always thought my art had helped me understand addiction because it was something that could come over me and block out everything else. I could lose myself in it for hours and never notice. Photography was the only thing that had ever done that for me.

Then I met her.

She was my true addiction. The thing I couldn’t stay away from. The only thing I’d ever needed as much as I needed my art. And it wasn’t until Jean had called me that I’d allowed myself to acknowledge how important Sine was. She’d given me back an appreciation for beauty, for life, even enhanced it.

I turned around so that my back shielded her from the main spray, then tipped her chin up so I could see her face. I pushed back the wet curls that were plastered to her head, cupped her face. My thumbs brushed over her cheekbones, touched the corners of her mouth. Her lips were still swollen from my kisses, and I could already see faint impressions on her hips where I’d held her. She’d have bruises tomorrow. From me.

“What’s happening in that mind of yours?” Her fingertips lightly traced my jaw.

I shook my head.

“You’re frowning, Alix. What’s wrong?”

I dropped my hands. “I didn’t mean to be so rough.”

She smiled as she reached out and took my hands, linked our fingers together. “Do I look like I didn’t enjoy myself?”

I felt a little tendril of relief and hope trying to worm its way into the knot of tension inside me. “I just...it’s...”

“Alix.” She raised one of my hands and kissed the back of it. “I wasn’t faking it, you know. I haven’t had to do that with you.”

I gave her a questioning look as a stab of jealousy went through me. “But you have with others?”

She released my hands and reached for a bottle of shampoo. “Do you really want to talk about past lovers?”

I scowled at her word choice. “No.”

The scent of peppermint filled the shower as she squirted some of the shampoo into my hand. “Then wash my hair.”

As I worked the shampoo into a lather, I massaged her scalp, closing my eyes when she moaned. After our quick fuck against the door, she’d asked me to join her in the shower, but we hadn’t really talked. And we needed to. I now knew why she’d quit, but that wasn’t enough.

She had to come back.

I didn’t know exactly where this thing between us was going, but I knew I wasn’t ready to let her go.

“I meant what I said before,” I said softly. “You’re the only woman I want modeling for this series.”

“Alix,” she began, turning toward me.

“Hear me out,” I said. “I want you to model for me, and I want you to come back to work for me as my assistant.”

She opened her mouth, and I put my finger over her lips. Her tongue flicked out against the pad of my finger, and I groaned.

“Let me get this out, Sine. I need to say it.”

She nodded as I rinsed her hair, taking care to keep the soap out of her eyes. Only when the water ran clear did I continue.

“If you don’t think you can work as my assistant because of this,” I gestured between us, “I understand. And I accept if you don’t want to model for me anymore. But I still want you.”

Her eyes widened. “I don’t understand.”

“No, you don’t, do you.” I leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You still don’t see what you’re worth.” I took her hands in mine. “You’re my muse.”

She shook her head and tried to laugh it off. “Alix–”

“Before you walked into my studio that day, I’d been struggling. I’d lost my vision, lost sight of what had made me love photography in the first place.” I struggled to find the words. “But then I saw you, and I remembered.”

“You’re giving me too much credit,” she protested.

I shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe I would have tried to do a bondage series with another model and people would have bought the photos.” I gave her a partial smile. “But they wouldn’t have been a part of me. Not the way these are. You wouldn’t want to deprive an artist of their muse, now would you?”

The look of exasperation on her face must have been something her brothers had all seen at one time or another. But then she smiled, and I dared to hope.

“Does that mean I can tell Jean that she doesn’t need to look for another assistant?” I asked, my stomach in knots as I awaited her answer.

“I suppose not.” She filled her hand with shampoo. “Now, if you want me to return the favor, I’m either going to need to grow, or...”

I didn’t even hesitate to lower myself onto my knees. This wasn’t about a show of submission or dominance. This was an act of intimacy between two people that I’d never allowed myself to feel before. I’d always given so much of myself over to my art, that I never felt like I had any left over to give to someone else. But with her, it was different, as if whatever I gave to her came back to me.

So, I knelt in front of her and closed my eyes as she washed my hair. When we were finished, I’d take her to bed. Feast on her until her body was ripe and ready for me. And then I would make her scream my name.

Again.