got a hard-on in front of the boss.
“It’s a very good thing,” she reassured him. “Seeing you has given me some great ideas for my newest commission.”
“What kind of artwork do you do?” He hadn’t seen any fruit bowls, so he might be spared from still lifes.
“All sorts—painting, photography and sculpture. My body of work has a definite unifying theme.” She gestured to the expansive loft.
He looked around and saw something he hadn’t noticed before. All the paintings and sculptures in Rey’s studio were of men.
Naked men.
He muttered another Spanish curse that would have earned him a smack from his mamá. What had his brother gotten him into?
He actually flinched as her silky hair brushed his shoulder, sending a rush of blood to his cock. Rey had barely touched him and already he was painfully erect. She couldn’t miss seeing it.
“Marco, I think you’d be the perfect model for my new commission.” She smiled and he gulped. “Please take off your underwear so I can see the rest of your body.” Her smile widened, two deep dimples creasing her apple-smooth cheeks.
How could he refuse? He hooked his thumbs under the silk waistband and pushed down his briefs. His erection sprang free. He forced himself to stand still and not look away in embarrassment.
Her sky-blue eyes widened. “Fantastic. You have the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen.”
“Uh, thank you.” A blond goddess loved his body. Modeling wasn’t so bad, after all.
MARCO GRINNED AND REY couldn’t help grinning back. She couldn’t believe her luck in finding him. When the agency had sent over his head shot and tear sheets, she hadn’t been terribly impressed. He had been handsome in the photos, but his features looked somewhat soft and unformed.
But in person—oh, my God—there was nothing soft about him. His cheekbones sliced across his face, forming a sharp T with his narrow, aristocratic nose. Piercing hazel eyes examined her with more shrewdness than she expected from an average model.
His black curls and caramel skin told her he had quite a bit of Spanish blood in him. He reminded her of a Renaissance Spanish angel, lean and intense with burning eyes.
His body was a sculptor’s dream. Think Michelangelo’s David with an erection. She itched to touch his textbook musculature, but that was a professional no-no. His abs and pecs rippled under his skin, which shone even in the dim winter sunlight. When she had looked at his back, she had seen his hard buttocks flexing under his tiny black briefs and she had barely been able to resist filling each hand with a perfect mound.
But the clincher to offering him the modeling gig was his impressive arousal. Long, thick and jutting out from a thatch of black curling hair, it was exactly what she needed—for her commission.
Not for herself. No more models. Their arousals didn’t mean much. Most were so narcissistic that just the sight of their own naked body was enough to give them an erection. It didn’t have anything to do with the person they were with.
On the other hand, Marco was enough to make her throw her rule out her twelve-foot-high windows.
She pulled back from that dangerous thought and focused on Marco’s nude body. She could tell he was uncomfortable standing there fully aroused, but he refused to hide himself or look away from her scrutiny. He held his head high, silky black curls covering his finely shaped skull.
The green flecks in his eyes bored into hers, and her nipples tightened and swelled. He dropped his gaze to the soft white cotton of her thin tank top. His eyes darkened and his erection grew even thicker and longer. A warm trickle of moisture gathered between her thighs. She broke eye contact and stepped away from his tempting expanse of satin skin.
“We should go over the business details.” The contracts and modeling release forms trembled in her hands.
His firm lips pulled into a slow smile, revealing even white teeth. Uh-oh. He’d noticed her sexual interest and lost his self-conscious manner.
“You can put your briefs on.” It was a temporary attraction. Once she drew him for hours, his nakedness wouldn’t affect her so much.
He bent over to pick up his underwear. “I make it a rule never to discuss business when I’m naked. I prefer to reserve that for pleasure.” His eyes invited her to comment on his teasing statement.
“For me, naked men are only business,” she said, avoiding his glance. He was a few feet away, and his woodsy cologne teased her nostrils.
“Too bad.” He dangled the tiny black scrap of satin from his fingers, tempting her. “Maybe you haven’t found the right naked man.”
She gulped at his blatant offer, the hot flush rising on her skin.
His intense gaze dared her to look away from him. She couldn’t. Somehow she had lost the upper hand and was reacting to him as a woman instead of an artist. She wondered crazily if the painter Botticelli had lusted after the model for his Venus or if the sculptor Borghese had lusted after his Daphne.
His strong hands curled at his sides close to his erection. If he moved his hand slightly, he’d be able to cup himself. She wondered if his penis felt as magnificent as it looked—long, brown and hard. A thick vein throbbed along the shaft, making her clitoris throb in unison. As she watched, mesmerized by the blaze of lust filling her body, a shiny bead of fluid coated the tip of his penis. For one crazy moment she wanted to drop to her knees and taste the pearl droplet.
She had to force herself to turn to her papers, shuffling them unnecessarily. When she sneaked a glance at him, he’d pulled his briefs on, but his erection was still straining against the tight black satin.
She cleared her throat, trying to shift his attention to the modeling contract.
He smiled as if he saw through her tactic. “So what do you want to show me?” The gleam in his eyes gave away his true thoughts.
“The paperwork,” she emphasized. “Your hourly and daily rates are specified here.” She pointed to the money details. “I’ll cut your agent a check on each of the dates listed.”
“I got the job?” He sounded stunned.
“Yes. Don’t you want it?” She’d never had a model refuse a job before.
“Well, I, uh, thought you needed to see a couple more guys, then you’d take a while to decide.”
“No, I need you right away.” She blushed at her unfortunate turn of phrase. “I’m on a very tight time frame, and your agent assured me you were free for the next few weeks.”
He ran his fingers through his black curls. “I have some obligations they don’t know about.”
She was starting to lose her patience. “Are you taking the job or do I call your agency and tell them you turned me down and they should send someone else?”
“No.” He yanked on the black robe. “I’ll do it.”
“Sign here.” She shoved the papers
