Chapter 30
Lighting tests, dry runs, electrical walk throughs, back up plans–I’m fucking exhausted. But the show is two days out, and it’s going to be incredible. I feel it. Everything has been going incredibly, and I feel invincible. Nothing can pierce my confidence.
“Here,” Ford says, handing his phone to me.
Squinting, I blink at it, and then him. God.
I’ll never get used to being with Ford. He’s so hot.
I get to look at him all the time and it never stops being a gut tingle reaction to him, I swear.
He shoves his sleeves to his elbow, tipping his mountainous frame against the door.
“Who is it?” I mouth quietly, because the only thing worse than taking a phone call when you have no idea what’s waiting on the other end is having the doorbell ring when you aren’t expecting company. Seriously.
His smile is sly and gorgeous, but then again, I’m not sure Ford is capable of making any facial expressions that aren’t extremely hot. Even when he stubbed his pinky toe on the bureau upstairs last week, and let loose a string of expletives, still, hot. Hot as hell.
“It’s for you,” he answers, and I cast one last inquisitive glance before bringing the phone to my ear.
“Hello, this is Juliette Wilson.”
“Juliette,” a man’s voice booms on the other side, raspy and deep, somehow even deeper than Ford’s voice and I wasn’t sure that was possible. “This is Augustus Moore, film director here at Crave & Cure downtown.” A pause as my brow falls into a straight line. “Are you familiar with Crave & Cure?”
“Hi, Mr. Moore. Nice to meet you and no, unfortunately I’m not familiar. I’m sorry.” Crave & Cure sounds like a juice place, or a place that makes coffees with weird infusions or something. My stomach clenches. Brochure images flash through my mind, and my skin grows clammy.
“Crave & Cure is an adult film company. We’re the top in the industry, worldwide, as a matter of fact. But that’s neither here nor there.”
I don’t know what to say, so I laugh a little. “Okay.”
“The reason I’m calling you is to check your availability and get a pulse on interest. We’re relaunching our website now that we’ve taken ownership of another company, and we’d like to revamp everything.”
“Okay,” I draw out, peering at the large window overlooking the bay bridge from afar. “I would love to help you with your site but, I don’t really know much about building websites,” I admit.
Augustus laughs, rich and uproarious. “No, no, of course not. I’m sorry, I wasn’t clear.
I’d like you to take all the photographs for the website.
Everything from the actor and actress headshots, casual on-set candids, photos of our sets and lights, and all the products on the line, too.
It’s a large gig. I’d say it’s a few months of work, minimum. ”
My mouth goes dry as Ford saunters back into the room, a stack of papers under one arm, his laptop in his other hand. Quietly he sets up at the dining room table, and I watch him as Augustus continues to fill in details.
“If you are interested, I’ll send over a preliminary contract, and we can start there,” he says simply.
Turning, placing my back to Ford, I ask the question that I believe I already have the answer to, considering Augustus called me on Ford’s line. “I have to ask, am I the best for this job or am I a favor to your friend?”
The chair feet screech against the tile floors as Ford gets to his feet behind me, coming to stand before me, green eyes darkened. I give him a lopsided smile, but speak to Augustus. “You called Ford’s phone, you know?”
He laughs, and Ford eyes me, but I reach out and cup his cock, softening his features.
“I called Ford’s phone because I saw your work at the new Velvet Whisper location, and I fell in love.
I called Ford to find out who did the work, and he said Juliette Wilson, and I asked for your contact information and here we are.
” Another soft laugh on his end. “I’m feeling like a dunce.
Ford called me last week, for a favor, trying to rent the top floors of The Armory because he wanted his partner to photograph a new annual fashion show.
Only now as we’re speaking am I connecting the dots that you are that partner, and you take all of his photos. ”
“I.. well, I did take all the photos at Velvet Whisper, but just the newest location–which isn’t even open yet.” I blink at Ford, who’s now cupping my hand, cupping his cock. “How’d you see them?”
“Interestingly enough, I share a construction foreman with Ford, and I’d seen some photos of Velvet, and noticed the photos. I went down to the site and saw them all. With Ford’s permission, of course.”
This man likes my work, and though Ford had some help in the matter, still, this job he’s offering is huge. Between Velvet, the fashion show and this Crave & Cure gig, my resume will be set.
I roll my lips together. “That’s very kind.”
“You’re gifted, Ms. Wilson. And I want to capitalize on your gift. Say yes. I’ll email the contract over.”
I nod my head. “Okay, let me look at the contract but tentatively, yes,” I smile at Ford who drops to his knees at my feet, kissing his way up my calves.
“Oh that’s great. Wonderful. I’ll email it to you after we end the call. Have Ford get me your business email.”
“I will,” I add, trying not to moan into the phone as Ford’s tongue slides up my inner thigh. “Thank you so much for thinking of me.”
“We’ll be in touch,” he says. “Goodbye, Juliette.”
“Bye Mr. Moore.”
“Before you start,” he says, pressing a hot kiss to my center, over my panties, my skirt bunched into his fist as he holds it up. “He loved your work. You did that. You. I did not meddle whatsoever.”
I believe him. “You know, even if you did meddle, it’s different with you. Because you know what I want, and you do have my best interest at heart.” We don’t need to say Harry’s name in contrast, because we both seem to understand. “It’s just different with you. In all the best ways.”
He tugs my panties aside and licks through me, making me moan. My hand falls to his head, and the papers on the table behind me slide off, fanning out all over the floor. Ford licks me one last time before he stands up, erection tenting his slacks, eyes wide, lips swollen. “Get your camera.”
“What?” I blink, my core pulsing, my clit buzzing.
“Get your camera, and let’s get started on our bedroom collection.” He shrugs. “That photo of the bay is just a placeholder.”
Ford reenters the bedroom from the walk-in closet, holding out a smoking jacket in one hand and my backless dress from the rehearsal dinner. He nods toward the chair in the corner of the room. “You’ll sit there, and take photos.”
I blink down at my rumpled maxi skirt and bare feet, and over at the dress. “In that?”
Ford starts to strip, so I do the same. He pauses, with his pants down and shirt off, to stroke himself as I undress.
When my bra hits the floor, he reaches beneath his boxer briefs, groaning in agony as he goes skin to skin.
The torque of his muscles beneath his tattoos makes my stomach clench, but I peel off my panties and step into the dress, trying my best not to turn into a puddle immediately.
“You like watching me do this, don’t you?” he asks, pushing hair out of my face as I adjust the straps on the satin gown. I glance between us, and boldly pull down his briefs, exposing him and what he’s doing. “Ms. Wilson, I like it when you’re bold.”
I nod my head. “I kind of always wanted to see you do this so yeah, I am lowkey obsessed with it.” From the nightstand, I grab my camera.
“Perv,” he accuses, grinning a moment before losing the briefs. He shrugs into the smoking jacket, which looks like Hugh Hefner’s robe but better, in rich black velvet and gold piping. It does go well with the dress.
He takes me by the hand, and guides me to the chair in the corner of the room.
“Now,” he says, dropping to one knee, then both, his ink and hard cock on full display.
He drapes his palms over my bare thighs, beneath the soft fabric of the dress.
Rubbing me, thumbs grazing my pussy, he says, “our room is going to be full of photos you take. Of us. Yourself. Me.” He kisses the inside of my knee.
“One day, the rest of the house will be full of your photos, but of our family. Our babies. Our life.”
My stomach clenches and my ovaries burn.
Between my legs, there’s an urgent throb, a desperate need, a quite literal hole to be filled.
“Ford,” I breathe, unwilling to let this moment be swept away by my emotional tears.
He smirks, then disappears between my legs, beneath the privacy of my gown.
The same gown I wore as Kat’s bridesmaid, but what’s more, the gown I wore the night that he kissed me for the first time.
Positioning Ford’s entire body in the frame, and the edges of my knees, I snap a few photos, then immediately flip through them on-screen.
The back of Ford’s head is visible, and his hands braced on knees pinning me open are showing, all of his familiar ink on full display.
The edge of the first shot are my toes, nails painted white, curled into the hardwood floor.
“You look so hot in these photos,” I murmur, the camera feeling like a million pounds as my brain begins to go fuzzy and my muscles go weak.
“Ford,” I moan, tilting the camera down to align him in the view.
He peeks his head out, lips shining, eyes dark.
I snap a photo and he disappears beneath my dress again.
With one hand, I carefully pull the dress up, exposing my naked pussy and Ford feasting on it.
His length bobs freely from his groin, a deep shade of red, balls nearly purple.
“Hold it,” I whisper, wrapping my hand around the back of his head for a moment.
“Keep your mouth on me and don’t move,” I tell him, loving when he’s done this in the past. It makes the orgasm so much more intense.