ANNA STRODE ALONG the exquisite, cobbled street, arguing furiously with herself. She hadn’t been able to sit there a second longer and watch another woman touch Nick like that. Although, seriously, what could have possibly happened with everyone watching? Nothing. Nothing had happened, nothing would happen. Nick hadn’t encouraged her, and the girl had even particularly been flirting with him—they were all doing their jobs.
“Ridiculous!” she snorted loud enough to startle a couple of tourists.
Panting from the steep climb, she realized that she’d reached the summit of the Old Quarter. She stared down the long, twisting streets, taking in the ancient stone buildings, and squinting into the sun that danced and glimmered on the distant sea.
Her body began to relax and she could almost laugh at herself. Almost. She allowed herself to remember that her feelings were completely natural. In no other environment other than modelling, or perhaps a medical facility, would Nick’s naked body be scrutinized at close quarters by so many strangers.
It was modelling that was unnatural, not her feelings.
The realization made Anna feel a hundred times better. It didn’t completely soothe the hurt in her heart when Nick had smiled at the young makeup artist, but she could persuade herself that it was meaningless.
She realized, several hours too late, that there was a reason why nude photoshoots were usually closed sets. She also remembered reading an article about sex scenes in movies, and why significant others didn’t attending the filming—precisely because it was awkward and stirred difficult emotions.
She strolled through the maze of narrow streets, taking time to enjoy the scenic old town, before finding a coffee shop where she indulged in a delicious lobster salad, a local wine, sweet and cool, followed by wonderful rich coffee, and a cheeky dessert of petit fours.
And treating herself to a glass of wine and sugary goodness denied to Nick, gave her the tiniest little smug smile.
She texted Brendan to let him know where she was and that she was fine after having a good wallow. He messaged back that the shoot was wrapping up so it was safe to return.
At that moment, Anna appreciated him even more as a friend than as her wonderful assistant. Brendan was her best friend—he understood her, protected her when she needed it, then kicked her ass when she deserved it.
She slid her sunglasses into place and made her slow way down the winding alleys, pausing every now and then to examine a curio or admire a display in a shop window.
Feeling more like herself, she reached Massimo’s studio and used the huge iron knocker to let them know she’d returned.
Elisa opened the door with a smile.
“How was your walk, Anna? Le Suquet is beautiful, no?”
“Very! I had a lovely time, thank you. Is Massimo pleased with the shoot?”
Elisa beamed.
“Maestro is satisfied. He says Nick is very compelling.” Elisa touched Anna’s arm lightly as if to emphasize her point. “This is a great compliment.”
“Well, thank you!” Anna laughed. “But it’s all Nick’s work—well, him and his parents! It’s got nothing to do with me!”
Elisa smiled as if she knew a great secret, and leaned forward to whisper.
“Maestro confides he cannot photograph happiness if it does not exist.”
Anna was flummoxed.
“He said that?”
“Yes. You are surprised?”
Anna paused, not sure how to answer. But then she heard Nick’s voice and peered over Elisa’s shoulder.
He was dressed now, wearing the shorts and t-shirt that he’d arrived in, leaning over Massimo, dwarfing the older man. They were both bent over Massimo’s camera while the Maestro explained some of the technical aspects.
Even Ning Yu joined in the conversation, her face surprisingly animated as she explained the lighting effects she’d used, and why she’d selected the different diffusing lights. She showed how she’d lowered the lights and added a spotlight to create drama for the black and white photographs.
Nick was frowning slightly, as if deep in thought or concentrating very hard, nodding every now and again to show that he understood.
The residual tightness inside Anna dissolved. Nick was completely engaged in the project, totally focused. He was happy.
Perhaps this was the interest that Nick would find outside their relationship. Much as she would like to be everything to him, Anna knew that wasn’t possible—it wasn’t even healthy. She was fair enough to know that her own work as an advice columnist and self-help author was something that she valued. Nick needed the same stimulus, he needed goals.
She walked further into the studio.
“How’s it going?”
Nick glanced up, his eyes bright with interest.
“Hey, luv! I missed you. Did you have a good time? Brendan said you’d gone to find something to eat,” and he raised his eyebrows, clearly amused and just a little envious.
Anna blushed and crossed her fingers as she lied.
“Just coffee. But tell me about the rest of the shoot? I saw the first half…”
Nick gave an embarrassed groan.
“I was pretty rubbish at the start. Standing around posing isn’t as easy as it looks. I’ve been holding so many positions and trying to flex at the same time, I’m knackered! I never knew that modelling was so tough.”
His eyes slid away as if he was rifling through the overload of experiences from the morning.
“It felt a bit weird to have everything flapping around in the breeze, but all the guys were really cool about it, so that helped.”
All the guys? Try four beautiful women and two gay men, Anna thought to herself cattily. She managed to keep a smile on her face, and Nick grinned at her.
“Massimo promised that there won’t be any dick shots. Been there, done that!”
This time, Anna laughed.
“Well, that’s a relief,” she smiled. “But you looked amazing out there.” She leaned closer and whispered in his ear. “Got me all worked up seeing you like that.”
Nick shot her a surprised look, then pressed a quick kiss to her forehead and a lingering kiss on her lips. Her arms circled his waist and she rested her head against the solid warmth of his chest, breathing in the scent of laundry soap and Nick’s faint cologne.
After a moment, he stood up straight and stared at her seriously.
“You know it didn’t turn me on, right? You could see that. You’re the only woman who gets me hard, Anna.”
Her cheeks heated with gratitude and desire.
“I do know that,” she whispered.
And this time she meant it.
Nick’s intensity lasted all the way back and he didn’t let go of her hand in the car. Brendan sat with the driver and chatted in French while texting on his phone.
As they sat in the back seat, Nick brought her hand to his lap and let her feel the hardness under his shorts.
Anna’s breath stuttered as she saw the heat and desire in his eyes.
She tried to pull her hand free, but Nick pressed it more firmly to his straining erection, a challenge in the sly smile on his face.
“We can’t!” she hissed, throwing a quick glance at Brendan and the driver.
Nick raised an eyebrow.
“We can’t,” Anna said again, more weakly.
He clamped his large hand over her smaller one and moved her fingers up and down his length with firm strokes. He leaned his head back against the seat, his eyes closing and his mouth falling open.
His hand relaxed as Anna gripped him more firmly, still casting nervous glances at the front seat.
She moved faster, feeling the tension in his thighs as she increased the pressure. She squirmed in her seat, the erotic charge electrifying between them as her panties grew damp, and her own need became unbearable.
Sensing her distress, Nick’s hand slid across to her lap and his long fingers crept beneath her skirt, then inching upwards, until he hooked two fingers inside her.
Anna shuddered, coming immediately as he pressed his thumb to her clit, sending her rocketing skywards.
Nick moved his free hand back to his lap where Anna’s hand had stilled, setting up a fast, rough pace, but leaving two fingers inside her, moving them to the same rhythm.
Anna whimpered and nearly swallowed her tongue, clenching her thighs to make this stop. But he didn’t. The rhythm was relentless and she felt herself building again.
Suddenly, Nick released her hand and plunged his into his shorts, coming in short, thick jets over his fist.
His eyes opened slowly as his breathing evened out and a relaxed, pleased smile spread across his face.
Wordlessly, Anna searched in her purse for a tissue and passed it to him.
Nick grinned as he calmly cleaned himself up.
Anna was in shock. She’d never … not in public … not with two people, and one of them a stranger sitting just a few feet away!
Heat poured from her whole body.
She pushed the button to open the window, fanning herself.
“Feeling hot, luv?” Nick asked, leaning toward her and kissing her neck softly.
“Just a little,” she lied.
“It’s definitely hotter in the back seat,” Brendan quipped, pointedly staring out of the window.
Anna’s cheeks blazed red as Nick let out a low laugh.
At the hotel, he dragged her into their room.
“I can’t believe you … that I…” she huffed, still stunned by her own rash behavior.
“Didn’t you know they call me Naughty Nick?” he laughed.
Then he pulled her into the shower and didn’t wait for her to undress as the water poured over their bodies.
“Nick! My clothes!”
But Nick was a man on a mission.
“Forget about your clothes, baby,” he whispered in her ear, kissing her neck and not so gently tugging her hair.
She moaned, half appalled when he tore open her shirt, ripping it from top to bottom, revealing her breasts.
Her bra disappeared with one swift movement.
Nick was impatient, aroused by Anna’s words, the car ride, horny as hell, and shower sex had always been a real turn on for him.
He stared, mesmerized by the water spraying and bouncing off Anna’s breasts. Her own excitement built as she caressed and squeezed his muscles, kissing and biting his chest.
“I love you, naughty Nick,” she whispered with a smile. “Show me what you’ve got!”
Her words were a spur and he shrugged out of his wet clothes, kissing every part of her body.
“You make that look so easy,” she breathed out. “Very James Bond, the name’s Renshaw, Nick Renshaw, 007 license for shower sex!”
She felt the rumble of Nick’s laugh against her bare skin, but there was nothing amusing about his rigid cock, throbbing and pulsating against Anna’s wet body.
All humour gone, she was grinding up and down on him, digging her nails deep into his chest and abs.
He slipped one hand up Anna’s wet skirt and ripped down her knickers.
“Naughty Nick is so rough today,” she groaned.
Yes, the beast had been let out to play. The hours of standing around naked and being told what to do, his hunger and frustration rolled out of him as he rubbed her clit in a circular motion, moving with her as she pressed up hard against his hand, her moans and groans guiding his fingers.
“I need you to fuck me hard,” she hissed.
Lust flared in his eyes and he picked her up easily, lowering her onto him roughly and she gasped as he pressed her against the shower tiles.
He thrust deep inside her again and again, the hot water pouring down with every movement, Anna’s moans increasing to breathless screams as she climaxed.
Nick kept thrusting harder, faster, slamming into her as Anna cried out again, half pleasure, half pain, and then he exploded inside her, his body tightening, the cords on his neck standing out, the muscles in his arms and thick thighs rigid.
Anna gasped for air, and Nick slowly relaxed, allowing her to slide down his body, her soaked skirt catching on him as they kissed, softly now.
THAT EVENING, LIMBLESS and satiated, Anna dressed for dinner.
Brendan had cried off, saying he wanted to find a club where he could ‘dance till dawn’, his words. In reality, it probably meant finding a guy to hook up with then gossip about the next day.
Anna was happy to have Nick to herself. Sex with Nick was always hot and steamy, but there was something about the wantonness of their behavior, the chance of being caught, then shower sex with the rush of water over their bodies, Nick’s solid heat, the cooler tiles, the ruggedness of it as he’d held her up and slammed into her, his beard reddening her skin as he panted into her neck.
Just thinking about it made her cheeks glow and her mouth dry. It had been so long since he’d wanted her this badly.
Nick seemed distracted by the number of restaurants they could see as they strolled through Cannes. He hadn’t eaten all day but had drunk a liter of water straight down once the shoot was over.
Elisa had gently instructed him that he could have seafood or chicken and salad tonight. Still no carbs since there was another day of shooting yet, this time on location at a private beach.
Anna wasn’t relishing going through it all again, but at least this time they wouldn’t be stuck in the confines of a stuffy studio, and if she needed to go for a walk, the beach would be perfect.
Nick watched as Anna pointed at the menu, choosing a shrimp paella, then placed his own order for seafood salad. He promised himself that he’d have one of everything on the menu tomorrow night.
Anna had been quieter than usual at the shoot and Nick was astute enough to see that she was feeling excluded, maybe even slightly threatened. At first, he’d concentrated on trying to relax while posing naked, but as the morning had gone on and his confidence had returned, he’d gradually become more and more involved in the process of modelling and the way Massimo worked.
He didn’t always understand the reason for the slight changes to his position or to the lighting that Massimo asked for, but he tried to work out the reasoning. In other words, he soaked up everything he could about the experience, finding it far more complex and interesting than he’d expected.
When they’d taken a break and Brendan had told him that Anna had gone out, he’d been disappointed not to be able to discuss it all with her. But something about the way Brendan said it made him wonder how Anna was feeling about the shoot.
He put himself in her shoes and knew instantly that he’d be mad as hell if she was posing nude in front of a bunch of strangers, in front of men.
But then again, she had talked him into this gig. Although he was well aware of her reasons.
It was hard to put into words how he felt: drifting was the word that came closest to how he’d been feeling.
And bored. That was the other word.
He’d been looking forward eagerly to a life where he didn’t get injured all the time, but he missed the rush of adrenaline that came from scoring a great try or leading his team to victory. He missed being part of a team.
Get over it, a voice inside told him, and maybe that voice had an American accent a lot like Anna’s.
His smile was wistful. Yes, he had to find a way to move on with his life. Drifting was no way for a man to live.
When the seafood salad arrived, he ate slowly, forcing himself to enjoy the good food, the beautiful views along the boulevard full of luxury boutiques and out across the yacht harbour, and here, with the woman who always stood by him.