people she’d photographed with a no-strings, no-commitment caveat.
As long as there was little chance of messy drama during or afterward. She wasn’t currently looking for anything long-term or even casual. She had other goals at the moment. But her brain was barely letting her separate the job of photographing Kevin from her primal appreciation of his body.
Her woman parts were attracted to everything about him. The man was a work of art. Long lean muscles and tan skin decorated with beautifully drawn tattoos. At first glance, his intense gaze and large muscular body were intimidating. But then his lips cracked a come-here-and-get-all-of-this smile accompanied by a twinkle in his eye that promised hours of I-shouldn’t-have-done-that-but-damn-he-was-good memories.
Only by the grace of God did she survive the photo shoot without drooling down her chest. She had a lot going on right now. She’d finally gotten Angelo to agree to let her exhibit at his gallery at the end of the year. Which meant she actually had an end result after telling the fashion world she was no longer going to photograph beautiful people for a lot of money and instead follow more artistic pursuits.
Despite the skepticism her announcement had received, she was excited. She’d made her money and built her career. She’d earned the right to do what she wanted. Kevin, though very pretty and tempting, was not part of the way she needed to spend her last few nights in New York.
“Was it as good for you as it was for me?”
Kevin’s voice caressed her body like a warm ocean breeze. She could almost forgive him for such a cheesy line. Almost.
She stopped packing her camera to look up at him. She was tall at five foot nine. In her black boots, she brushed six feet, but she still had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. And there went her pulse, accelerating from the eye contact. He’d wrapped the towel back around his waist, but his incredible chest and forearms were bare. Despite the cold room, heat radiated off him in waves. That, or her body temperature rose in his presence.
“Do you really think you’re the first person who’s tried that line with me?” She leaned back against the table and rested her hands on the top.
“I don’t care who’s tried it in the past. I want to know if it’s working for me today.”
His confidence was a turn-on. She was drawn to sexy, confident men. Discovering whether the confidence was warranted or just overcompensation was fun to figure out. She had a feeling Kevin’s was warranted.
“Working for you in what way?” she asked.
“Is it increasing the likelihood I’ll be able to see you again?”
She tilted her head to the side. “How is photographing you today supposed to make me want to see you again?”
He shifted his weight and rubbed his hands together. The movement made the towel dip lower. Her gaze dipped before she could stop herself. When she met his eyes again, he lifted a brow.
Yeah, you look good and yeah, I know it.
“You were behind the camera,” Kevin said. “That’s very impersonal. I thought you’d want a more up close experience.”
Seriously? Was that all it took for this man to get a woman in his bed? She didn’t doubt it. Hell, her body was responding, her nipples hardening and heat building in the apex of her thighs just from the promise in his eyes. The man was the embodiment of dangerous sex appeal with those dark eyes, tattoos, muscles and good looks. A combination that had caused women to make regrettable decisions since the beginning of time.
“Oh, no need. My camera has a zoom lens, you see. I’ve already got an up close and personal view of everything I wanted to see.”
His smile scattered her thoughts for a second. “And you’re not interested in seeing more?”
She was definitely interested in seeing more. If she didn’t have plans for tonight, and she didn’t have to start packing to leave New York, and she had a little more time to feel him out and decide if he was worthy of getting in her bed, she would have said yes.
Not going to bed with Kevin was good for other reasons. Guys like Kevin had the pesky potential to become more than just a fling if she wasn’t careful. Guys like him got in her blood, her head and before long, had her thinking she was in love right when he was ready to move on.
“I’m sure it would be fun, Kevin, but I’m going have to say no, thank you.” She didn’t smile with her letdown but kept her voice casual. Kevin seemed flirty and laid-back, but she’d witnessed how volatile some guys could be when faced with rejection or how others would view an accompanying smile as an excuse to keep hounding.
He raised a brow. “You sure?”
She took a deep breath and gave him one last once-over. Yeah, Kevin would definitely be fun, but she didn’t have time for that kind of detour. “I’m sure.”
He placed a hand over his heart and stepped back. “You break my heart, Jasmine, but I won’t push.”
Score more points for him not behaving like an idiot. “I appreciate that.”
“I’m in town for a few days. You change your mind, give me a call.”
If only she were in town a few days. “I don’t have your number.”
The man miraculously pulled a pen from his towel. The towel shifted dangerously low, so low she could see the dusting of hair below his waist. Magically it held in place.
“You have an ink pen in your towel?”
He chuckled and stepped close. “Always be ready.” He took her hand in his. His was large and warm but surprisingly gentle.
Heat zipped up her arm and through her chest, right down to her toes. There was a hint of cologne combined with an underlying peppery spice that heated her even more. He turned her hand palm up, uncapped the pen with his mouth and wrote a number on her wrist.
The movement of the pen tickled. The heat of his fingers branded her. Her pulse fluttered and her breathing stuttered in her chest.
His eyes lifted to hers. Desire and a dare flickering in their depths. He lifted her arm higher, blew on the ink. Goose bumps rose all over her body. Her sex tingled and her nipples tightened.
“You’ve got it now,” he said in a low voice she felt all the way in her toes. Kevin ran his thumb over the number, smiled at her, then dropped her hand. “Call me.”
He turned and walked away. The towel dipped. Jasmine sucked in a breath. He caught it before it fell. Jasmine released a disappointed breath. Yeah, he was definitely a get-in-your-blood kind of guy. Thank goodness she was leaving New York in two weeks.
Now, to keep from calling him before she left town.
“Come on, Kevin, tell me. Are you retiring?”
Kevin chuckled and took a sip of the red wine in his hand. He leaned against the balcony of photographer Rafael Sim’s penthouse overlooking uptown Manhattan.
