“What stick?” I asked Britta as we left the house, and she looked at me horrified. I laughed. “Yes, you said it out loud.”

She turned away, heat blushing her cheeks for the millionth time that night. I fucking loved that I had that effect on her. I wanted to see if her tits blush that much. I noticed she was walking a little... bow-legged down the drive to the Valet.

“Why are you walking like that?”

She turned to me accusatory. “My legs are sticky!”

I took a moment to hide my smile and rub my rough face. “But I haven’t even touched you yet.”

Britta stopped in her tracks, mouth agape, eyes wide.

If I wasn’t mistaken, she quivered at my words.

She shook her head. “From the alcohol. I’m sticky... from the alcohol.”

“Well... since it was my fault, I’ll help you clean it up.”

“Do you have your ticket, sir?” the valet asked, interrupting just in time.

Britta remained somewhat caught in the moment, lingering on my words. I handed the valet the number, and he quickly jogged off to retrieve my car. Approaching Britta’s left, I wrapped my arm around her right hip and murmured into her ear, “Everything okay?”

She swallowed hard and then nodded quickly.

I heard the rumbling engine of my Lamborghini as it turned into the drive. “Come,” I ordered, and again she shivered. Leading Britta to the car, she climbed in under the door, and I went to the driver’s side.

“I’m going to get alcohol all over your seat,” Britta said as I pulled out of the drive.

“They’re leather, and it’s due for a detail tomorrow.”

We hit the city streets in no time, colorful lights flickering off the clean glass.

When we hit traffic in the city center, Britta broke the silence.

“I didn’t do anything, you know.”

“When?”

“With Jarod.”

“Okay.”

“He wanted to, but... well, it’s Jarod.”

“Mmhmm...”

“I wonder if he knows how transparent he is.”

Silence fell between us while I mulled over my thoughts.

“You have nothing to say about it?”

I turned to her while I slowed the Lambo to the lights. “Britta, I know you can look after yourself.”

“You seemed pretty pissed about it. Your vein was twitching.”

This made me laugh. “My vein was twitching?”

“Yes, it twitches when you’re mad. And tonight, I thought it was going to explode.”

I nodded at her assessment, surprised at how much she paid attention. Rubbing my jaw, I considered my words carefully before deciding to say my piece. The truth was, my blood was boiling at the mention of Jarod and his intentions, but she didn’t need to know that.

“With friends, Jarod can sometimes be a good guy. He knows how to throw a party and looks after his guests. But for the most part, the guy is an outright fuckwit, narcissist, who cares nothing for the people he hurts. He doesn’t give a flying fuck who he fucks... no offense...”

She replies with, “None taken.”

“... and he clearly didn’t care about the beating he would have received if he laid a finger on you.”

“Well...” she heaved a sigh. “I didn’t hesitate to put him in his place.”

I smiled while watching the road. Britta has four older brothers who taught her how to deliver a good left hook over the years. In fact, seeing Britta slug one at Jarod certainly would have made my night.

“And what about the redhead?”

“What about her?”

“I’ve never seen her around before.”

“Neither have I.”

“Really? You two seemed to be pretty cozy for strangers.”

I stroked my chin hiding my smile. “You sound like you have a problem with her.”

Britta did her best to appear indifferent. “There was just something about her, I guess.”

“Ms. Valentino, are you jealous?”

She scoffed, unconvincingly. “I’m far from jealous, Hawk. Like I said, there was just something about her. She appeared... snide. Like she owned you.” A silence settled between us before she continued, “And you appeared to like it.”

“I prefer brunettes.”

“Not blondes? Not redheads?”

“Nope.”

“Hmmm...”

I let Britta mull over those words. She would no doubt be pulling apart each letter because that was what she was like.

“You smell too good,” she finally said.

I smiled. “I do?”

“You do.”

I watched for a moment, my eyes traveling the length of Britta’s body. She bit her lip, and I wanted to suck it into my mouth. “I’m happy you approve of how I smell.”

Her lips tried to form a smile. She was embarrassed, but somehow, I couldn’t stop the banter.

“You’re so cocky.”

“What are you saying about my cock?”

She burst out laughing in her usual beautiful and contagious giggle.

“And that there is a prime example. Your ego is huge.”

“You’re a dirty girl, Britta Valentino. Talking about my huge cock. I thought you were a lady.”

She laughed again, this time so hard she snorted and playfully slapped my arm.

“Behave yourself! You’re corrupting my innocent mind.”

I eyed her delicious body, hugged possessively by her red dress. “Ohh... Britta. Corrupting you would be quite the thrill.”

My eyes moved between the road and her chest which was rising and falling heavily, practically panting. There was raw tension that hung thickly between us, and I could see from Britta’s eyes, she was starting to get lost in my world. I wanted her lost. I wanted her stumbling and feeling her way. And I wanted to be the one who pulled her through it.

***

MONDAY COULDN’T HAVE come around any slower.

After dropping Britta off Friday night and ensuring she got through her door safely, I realized we hadn’t even spoken about the ‘fake engagement.’ The night of the party she’d consumed too much alcohol, and had let her hair down. But at the same time, she’d also dropped her guard. All three things were very much unlike her, and I had to wonder just how much Roman’s upcoming nuptials were messing with her head.

Britta was a strong and independent woman, but when it came to love, she became putty in someone’s hands, allowing them to take full control, and it was always to her detriment. That someone had been Roman. The fucking scumbag who’d cheated on Britta with Britta’s best friend, and then seemingly had the nerve to ask her to the wedding. That’s gotta fuck with a girl’s head.

I wasn’t entirely guilt free. I was a man who took control of every situation, especially my women. And a huge part of me wanted to take control of Britta, to explore her body with no off-limits, to have her so drunk on love and desire she practically begged for more. I wanted her on her knees. I wanted her under me. I wanted her a quivering mess on top of me.

So instead of calling her, I submerged myself in my work and waited until Monday morning.

Britta was already stuck in paperwork and organizing the next shoot when I walked in. She was excellent at her job and had never once disappointed me.

Her family told me my name is fitting. That they needed to ‘watch me like a Hawk.’ They could see my possessive side. They knew how intense I could be. But Britta was the same, they just didn’t know it. Which was why they were against me hiring her. With what she’d learned at my company, I wouldn’t hesitate in making her partner. She was intelligent, proficient, and cared as much for business as what I, the owner, did.

As I walked down the hallway, I could see straight down into her office through the glass door. Sensing someone approaching, she looked up from her paperwork and offered a small wave. I smiled back while admiring how her cleavage looked in the top she was wearing. Taking a seat in my own office, I wondered how much of Friday night she actually remembered.

The door burst open, and my frazzled assistant Sara stepped inside. She was still wearing her headset and carrying the iPad. “Our model canceled for today,” she started. “I’ve been trying to fill the position all morning but no one’s available. I’m afraid I’ve run out of options.”

“Have you tried Tannika?”

She nodded her head.

“Tannika was the first I tried. I know how popular she is. But she’s out of state this week.”

I gestured for the iPad which was filled with model portfolios. I opened the files and started scanning through, looking for the right fit.

“None are available?” I asked again, almost in disbelief.

We had one of the most extensive lists of contacts, and not one was available?

She shook her head, her brows knitted together in confusion. “Not one.”

I handed back the iPad and sat on the edge of the table, contemplating my next move.

Britta rounded the corner into my office, a muffin stuffed in her mouth. She startled when she saw both of us looking at her. My lips tried to twitch into a smile, but I hid it.

Britta is sexy as fuck, but she pulled off being an adorable dork so perfectly. She was now at a complete stop, mouth slowly working the large chunk of muffin, her eyes flicking between Sara and me.

“What’s wrong?” she mumbled over her food.

“We’re down a model,” I said, on my way out of the office.

“There’s gotta be someone available,” Britta replied, having missed the earlier conversation. She was hot on my heels following me down the hall.

“I’ve called them all,” Sara chimed in once more.

“That’s ridiculous,” Britta said, disbelieving. “We have the largest catalog of women.”

“Obviously, not big enough.”

Britta joined me in the elevator, and I hit the button for level fifteen where the photoshoot should already be underway.

“Let me check,” Britta said, quickly finishing her muffin before wiping her hand on her skirt. She flicked through her phone and asked, “Tannika?”

“Out of town.”

“Shit! This is a disaster.”

“Just get it fixed,” I said, possibly firmer than needed. Britta didn’t flinch at my assertiveness. She was used to it, knowing this was how the business ran. It was one of the reasons why she’d moved up faster than anyone in my company.

She got me when no one else did.

Shoots cost a lot of money and are scheduled months in advance, so this shouldn’t happen.

The elevator doors opened, and we both walked into the studio where the lamps, green screen and reflectors were already set up. Gerrad, the photographer, was fiddling with his camera when we approached. He spotted me, looked to Britta who was furiously scouring her phone, and then back to me.

“Are we running late today, Hawk?” Gerrad asked.

I nodded. “There might be a delay.”

“What time frame?”

“We’re down a model.”

Gerrad stood tall, concern written on his face. “That’s not going to work. Compositionally I need six models.”

“We’re working on getting—”

“Fuck a duck!”

We both turned to Britta who desperately fumbled with her cell, trying to catch it as it continued to slip through her fingers before finally landing face down on the tiled floor.

“Like damn buttered toast,” she continued. Britta bent down to pick it up, her fine ass revealing her perfect curves, blouse lowering just enough to offer a sneak peek of one of her finest assets. She could rival any of the models standing in front of the green screen already in lingerie. She was pure perfection. Every man’s wet dream.

“Ohh, geez...” Britta said, annoyed, “... the screen cracked!” When she turned to look at us, she froze. “What?” Her perfect brows knitted together in confusion.

My eyes roamed the length of her body before I glanced at a smiling Gerrad and then back to Britta.

Her wide eyes flicked between us as realization dawned. “Oh no... that’s... whatever you have going on in your head... that’s not going to happen. Nosiree.”

Britta couldn’t wipe the smirk off my face if she tried. I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought of it earlier.

“Yes,” I said simply, nodding my head.

“Ah uh!” She took a step back, her index finger waving in warning.

“She’d be perfect,” Gerrad stated, seeing the potential.

Britta shook her head and began backing out of the room in an effort to escape. “I have a meeting,” she said, and I knew she was lying. I started closing the space between us before her back hit the wall. Quickly stepping forward, I trapped her in with my body pressing against hers, my palms flat against the bricks.

She started breathing heavily, eyes hooded, the same as they had been on Friday night. She smelled divine, her perfume intoxicating.

“You’d be perfect,” my voice rumbled the way it does when I got lost in her.

“You... you can’t ask me to do this,” she murmured, breathless. I could see in her eyes, behind the desire, just how terrified she was.

“If I remember correctly, you owe me.” It was time to change tact.

“I owe you?”

My eyes fell to her heaving breasts, and my cock hardened.

“I’m your fake fiancé, am I not?”

“I hate you.”

I smirked.

***

BRITTA HUGGED THE ROBE tighter around her small body.

“All models back on set,” Gerrad called.

I moved my index finger in a circle. “Time to disrobe.”

Britta’s eyes widened in horror. “You’re not staying! Don’t you have work to do?”

“Mmmm... it’s suddenly not important.”

“Bastard!”

“Britta,” Gerrad called. “We need you on set.”

She groaned, and I had to refrain from laughing. This day had improved significantly.

I watched as she carefully walked through the array of cords in her black stilettos and in front of the green screen. The other models had congregated and were already in position, so by the time she arrived, all eyes were on her.

Britta looked nervously around the room, her knuckles white as she fiercely clutched her robe.

“Remove the robe, Britta,” Gerrad requested, passing me a wink. I hid my smirk.

I saw Britta mouth a string of inaudible curses. I believed I even saw her stomp her foot.

She may not be loving this moment, but I certainly was.

Reluctantly, she opened the robe and let it slip over her shoulders before tossing it off the set.

“Fuck.” I breathed in heavily at the sight before me. Britta Valentino was a fucking goddess. I knew she’d be stunning in next to nothing. Let’s face it, she was stunning fully dressed. But like this, she was a fucking work of art, and she looked beyond incredible wearing one of my finest pieces of lingerie. It was for the kinky inclined. Those who were more daring in bed.

Her eyes flicked to the door, and it looked like she was about to make a run for it before they landed on me.

For a moment, Gerrad turned off the bright lights and fiddled with his camera some more. In that time, I was no longer in the shadows, and she could see just how much I appreciated the view. Her gaze lowered to the bulge in my pants, eyes widening in both shock and embarrassment. In usual Britta fashion, her breasts and cheeks blushed, yet she didn’t divert her attention.

This time, I didn’t hide my smirk. Nor did I hide my erection.

The lights flicked back on, returning me to the shadows. Britta seemed frozen in place, like a deer in headlights.

From the darkness, I cleared my throat, and that seemed to wake her from her indecent thoughts.

Gerrad took control and positioned the girls as previously discussed. Britta put on her most professional face, the way she usually does, and did everything asked of her. After some extra guidance from the photographer, she was an absolute natural.

“So, um...” Gerrad approached. “How would Britta feel about a solo shoot? I’m fairly certain, her alone, would provide us with the best image we need.”

“Do it.”

“Should we ask he—”

“She’ll be fine. Do what you need to do.”

I watched Britta as Gerrad approached the girls.

“Ladies, you’re free to go, thank you for your time. Britta, I need you to stay.”

Her face looked stricken. “Is something wrong?”

“Far from it,” he reassured. “Now if I could just get you to—”

“Hawk!” She searched for me in the shadows. “What have you done?”

“Just sticking to our deal.”

“Asshole.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her outburst.

For the next half an hour, I watched the solo shoot. If my cock was hard before, it was fucking throbbing now. Shifting a few times for comfort, I watched as Britta, who wore a one-piece bodysuit, fell into provocative positions. Her breasts were barely covered, nipples showing through the lace. The backside of the piece was completely missing. It was one of my more erotic outfits, and when it came time to  do the back shoots, I thought my cock was going to explode then and there. Her round derriere was made for that body suit, and whenever I got her into bed, she’d be wearing precisely that.