Picture me Sexy. Rhonda Nelson

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Picture me Sexy - Rhonda Nelson


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he’d been subjected to since the moment he laid eyes on her, another more disconcerting feeling suddenly commenced in his chest, making it hard for him to draw a breath. It grew tight, then swelled with some unnamed emotion.

      Delaney smiled self-consciously, making her all the more gorgeous. “Okay,” she sighed. “Now where do you want me?”

      His tenuous grasp on control almost snapped. Where did he want her? Anywhere. Right there. Who cared? The only thing that lay between him and her were about ten feet of hardwood and a couple of scraps of clothing. With a little creative maneuvering, he could take her right there. In a heartbeat.

      Sam rubbed the back of his neck, forced the erection-provoking vision to subside. “What about over there?” He pointed to the animal print set. At the moment, he didn’t trust himself to say more.

      Delaney crossed her arms over her chest, inadvertently plumping her generous breasts even more, and moved to the set he’d indicated. She sat stiffly on the couch. “Okay. Now what?”

      “Why don’t you tell me about something that relaxes you?” Sam suggested, trying to loosen her up again. The tactic had worked before and perhaps a little conversation would make him quit thinking about tracing that peekaboo lace with his tongue. About bending her over the end of that couch and plunging into her sweet, slick heat from behind.

      She forced a smile. Looked nervously around the room. “Chocolate relaxes me.”

      He chuckled. So those rumors were true. He’d heard of her legendary chocoholism as well as a couple of interesting tidbits about her office. He’d heard that her inner sanctum was crammed full of antiques, was decorated in shades red, rose and pale pink and had been designed to look like the inside of a jewelry box. He couldn’t satisfy his curiosity about the one, but he could the other.

      “Any particular kind of chocolate?” he asked as he lined up a spectacular shot.

      “No, just plain unadulterated chocolate. No nuts, no caramel, no nougat.” She grinned and arched a brow. “Just chocolate.”

      Sam took the shot and instinctively knew this frame would be his favorite. That gently curved, innocently provocative smile combined with the come-hither brow was awesome. With effort, he swallowed. “That was a gorgeous shot.”

      “Really?”

      “Really. Tell me about something else that relaxes you.”

      She gave him another cheeky grin. “Sorry, don’t know you well enough.”

      Sam fired off a few more frames. Despite the whopping erection swelling out of his briefs, he’d finally hit the zone, wanted to keep the momentum. “Forget that you don’t know me. I’m getting some great stuff here.”

      She tsked. “I’d hate for you to drop your camera again.”

      Irritation rose. Click, click. “I won’t drop my camera again. Move to the other end of the couch.”

      Delaney swung her legs around and did as she was told. Her breasts plumped against the arm of the couch. “Well, if you’re sure…”

      “I’m sure.” Click, click, click.

      She arched her back and a long stretch of leg peeked from a slit up the side of the gown. Another wicked grin played at the corners of her lips and her gaze once more made a slow head-to-toe inspection of his body. “Well, in that case…nothing relaxes me more than good hard orgasm…but those are really too few and too far between to be dependable. Not like chocolate. It always satisfies me.”

      Sam stilled. A bead of sweat abruptly broke out on his upper lip and if he hadn’t caught himself, his camera most likely would have tumbled to the floor again. He’d expected her to tell him she liked to cross-stitch, or cuddle up with a good book.

      She laughed out loud, a delighted chuckle that bubbled up her throat and hit a chord deep inside him. “Wow. I did it again. I shocked you.” She sounded so damned pleased with herself, it was all Sam could do not to laugh.

      He grinned, felt a blush actually creep into his cheeks. He ducked his head and passed a hand slowly over his face. “Yes, you did.”

      “I can’t believe I said that,” she marveled, suddenly embarrassed. Her cheeks pinkened adorably. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. I’ve done a lot of things lately that have been totally out of character.”

      “Well, save them for the next set,” Sam told her. “I’ve run out of film again. You’ve got one more outfit, right?”

      Still smiling, she seemed lost in her own private thoughts. “Yeah, one more. I’ll be right back.”

      One more. Thank God. Then she would leave and he wouldn’t have to worry about the “quickening”…or possibly ruining his perfectly good reputation for being a professional—or possibly his future—by sleeping with her.

      If this torture session didn’t end soon, Sam didn’t know whether he’d be able to control himself. He’d been battling his exaggerated hormones for the past hour, and frankly he was beginning to suspect that this was simply a war he couldn’t win. But it was one he knew he couldn’t afford to lose.

      DELANEY CHANGED INTO the final outfit, a blush satin baby doll teddy, as quickly as possible and didn’t allow herself the luxury of looking in the mirror. Her modesty would rear its ugly head again and she’d lose every bit of ground she’d managed to gain during this experience. She was still self-conscious of her body, but nothing like the claustrophobic sensation of dread that she usually suffered from.

      Sam had kept her talking so much that she’d barely had time to notice what she was or wasn’t wearing. He’d drawn her out, made her say things that she’d never dreamed would come out of her mouth. Mortification burned her cheeks. An orgasm relaxed her? Where on earth had that come from? What had made her say that? Obviously, she’d tapped into some sort of repressed alter ego when she’d decided to embrace her feelings instead of repressing them. When she’d undergone an attitude adjustment.

      And really, why not? What difference did what she said to this man make? Her dirty laundry had been aired to all and sundry for the past several years. What could she honestly say that would embarrass her anymore than what had already happened to her? When she looked at it that way, it was really rather liberating, Delaney decided with a small smile.

      Besides, after today, she’d never see Sam Martelli again. The thought struck an odd pang of regret, but she squelched it determinedly. She could have him mail the photos to her. There would be absolutely no harm or repercussions for anything she did or said. She’d sworn off men, so what possible problem could arise out of a little harmless flirtation? Beyond today, what difference would it make?

      None.

      She’d use this inconvenient attraction for him to her advantage. Shocking him made her feel sexy and looking at him turned her on. The man was art in motion. He moved with a predator’s grace, with an economy of motion. Those heavy-lidded deep brown eyes had a way of making a woman wonder about hidden talents, about tangled sheets and satisfying orgasms. Delaney bit her bottom lip as a chord of longing vibrated deep in her belly. She’d just bet he’d be chocolate-covered sex, the kind she’d regrettably never had.

      Oh, hell. Now was not the time to be lamenting her lackluster sex life. With a mental shake, Delaney smoothed her hands over the silky gown and walked back down the hall to the studio.

      “Where do you want me now?” she asked and noted that Sam’s impossibly broad shoulders tensed at the question. He looked up, casually glanced at what she wore, and swallowed.

      “In bed.”

      Delaney frowned. What did— Did he just— She blinked. “I’m sor—”

      “On the bed,” he hastily corrected. He squeezed his eyes shut and muttered a low curse. “Why don’t you lean against the footboard post,” he suggested.

      “Sure.” Bewildered, Delaney walked over, curled


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