CHAPTER TWO
CLAIRE
The thirty-something model was undeniably gorgeous, the kind of man who could command attention without even trying. Normally, I kept my composure around models—I saw handsome men daily, and they rarely fazed me. But this one was different. There was a raw, untamed confidence about him, like he didn’t give a damn what anyone thought. Well, except when it came to dropping his pants to reveal his big dick. The hesitation there was telling. And, let’s be honest, my assistants Porsha and Roleta wouldn’t stop gossiping about him for weeks.
Still, I couldn’t wrap my head around why a man like Vino would pass on a modeling gig just to take me out to lunch. Not that it mattered. What Vino didn’t know was that I’d sworn off men. Well, sort of. It wasn’t that I didn’t interact with them—I used them to make me feel good and moved on. My life was dedicated to my dream, and I wasn’t about to let anyone derail it. Being a successful fashion designer in New York City was all I’d ever wanted. Relationships? Marriage? Pumping out babies? No thanks.
It wasn’t as if I hadn’t tried the boyfriend route before. Let’s just say those experiences ended… badly. Really badly. Since then, I’d chosen pleasure over commitment, control over chaos. And it worked for me.
My life had taken a turn for the better earlier this year when an unexpected opportunity fell into my lap. Up until January, I’d been scraping by with a little help from my dad, sister, and brother to cover rent and expenses. Then, out of the blue, I got a call from a company offering to fund my business. They claimed they were looking to invest in up-and-coming designers who had big ideas but no financial backing.
I couldn’t believe my luck. I knew plenty of talented designers struggling to make ends meet, so I wasn’t about to turn down this chance. Sure, I’d eventually pitch for them to support others, but first, I had to prove that their investment in me would pay off.
Thanks to their support, my entire life changed. They covered my rent for my design studio, all business expenses, and even materials. As if that weren’t enough, they moved me into a luxury condo just a short walk from my workspace. It was surreal—a dream come true.
It was an unbelievable opportunity - now I could afford to mingle with the elite designers and maybe even have my designs grace The Met Gala red carpet.
In February, the company hosted a masquerade ball that I was required to attend. After all, how could I say no when they were supporting my dreams? As soon as I arrived, they announced my name, and I felt like royalty. Despite everyone wearing masks, it wasn’t hard for people to figure out who I was, since all they had to do was search my name online. They wouldn’t find photos of me. Just my name and fashion designs.
As I strolled through the ballroom, decked out in glittering chandeliers and a live orchestra, I kept having to remind myself to close my mouth. The sheer grandeur of it all left me awestruck.
En route to the bar, I tried to stay composed, but my attention was immediately drawn to a man surrounded by women who couldn’t keep their hands off his broad chest in his sleek black tuxedo. Even I had to admit he looked damn good in it. The older women in front of him giggled like schoolgirls at everything he said, their infatuation obvious.
“Oh Angelo, you’re so funny,” the brunette said.
Funny? The man could’ve told them he enjoyed strangling kittens, and they’d probably still swoon.
I finally forced my gaze away from his body and looked him in the eyes—violet eyes, deep and piercing. They were the only part of his face visible beneath a sleek gold metal mask, which only made him more intriguing. His lips, though, were another story: full, sensual, and far too easy to imagine against my skin.
As it turns out, I had a thing for tall men with muscular frames because, yes, I ended up hooking up with Angelo, the mysterious masked man. Our arrangement was perfect. No strings attached, allowing me to be carefree and enjoy our time together without any expectations or complications. Of course, this didn’t mean that I gave myself away to just anyone. I had a strict limit of two men at a time, especially since I was busy running my successful business. So, maybe Vino could be my number two.
“Claire?”
The deep voice behind me sent a ripple of goosebumps up my spine.
I turned, startled. “You’re back,” I said, surprise thick in my voice.
Vino grinned, cocky and self-assured. “Yup. I got your salad and a Red Bull,” he said, holding the bag at eye level like a trophy.
My heart skipped. “I love Red Bulls. How did you know?”
“The options were limited,” he shrugged. “It was either an orange soda, red soda, or this.”
I laughed softly. “Well, good call. Red Bull was the safest bet.”
“Come on, let me show you my private corner of the world.”
He was so handsome, I could stare at him all day. His silky black hair looked so touchable, and his lips...well, they must be incredibly soft. And those big hands...I wouldn’t mind if he smacked my ass with them.
“Do you have a busy day ahead?” Vino asked.
“Yes, there’s a fashion show coming up in a month. I’d love for you to model my underwear.”
He smirked as we stepped inside my small photo studio haven.
“You’ll be the only woman who gets to see me in your briefs. Consider this a private show just for you,” Vino winked.
For some reason, I was okay with that. Vino exuded confidence and relaxation around me, which was refreshing compared to other models I’ve worked with who tripped over themselves.
We sat beside each other on the white platform where my models usually posed. Vino handed me the salad container and popped open the Red Bull for me.
“Thank you,” I said, smirking.
Stop smiling, Claire. Just because he’s thoughtful doesn’t mean he’s thoughtful in bed. True. So true. Pretty men some time thought about getting themselves off.
“You’re welcome,” he replied smoothly, pulling another salad and Red Bull from the bag.
“What if I designed a suit for you?” I asked, testing the waters. “Would you wear it in a magazine spread?”
He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his gaze locking onto mine. The look in his eyes, that devilish curve of his lips said I want to eat your sweet pussy.
Was that really what that smile said? Fuck, that was what I wanted it to say.
“I’d like to take you to dinner when you’re free,” he stated suddenly.
“I don’t date, Vino,” I replied firmly.
He chuckled and turned to his salad.
“What’s funny?” I asked, annoyed.
“We’re on a lunch date right now, Claire.” The way he said my name, slow and deliberate, sent a shiver through me.
I rolled my eyes, desperate to change the subject. “Do you live in the city?”
Beyond the walls, I could hear the beautiful chaos of my staff preparing for the upcoming fashion show.
“No, Jersey.”
“I thought I heard a Jersey accent, but I figured maybe you’d moved to New York.”
He laughed. “Don’t worry, Claire, I live thirty minutes away. Fifteen by helicopter.”
“Helicopter?” My brows bunched together.
“You’re rich?” I didn’t give him a chance to respond.
My suspicions flared. “Which agency sent you today? I should’ve asked upfront. Sometimes they plant people to steal my designs.”
“Which agencies?” he questioned.
I shook my head. “All of them.”
“Don’t worry,” he said smoothly. “I’ll handle it. They won’t do it again.”
The way he said it, so calm and matter-of-fact, sent a chill through me.
He said it like he was going to threaten their lives. But he made it sound like it was just another day.
“Are you a problem solver, too?” I asked cautiously.
He stabbed the lettuce and avocado drenched in Italian dressing with his fork and brought it to his lips. “You could say that.”
We ate in silence for a few minutes before he dropped another bomb. “Since you don’t date, I’ll swing by next Wednesday around seven. We’ll go to a nice Italian place and talk.”
“That sounds like a date, Vino.”
“It’s not. It’s just two people eating their meals at the same table. A little conversation thrown in from time to time.,” he said with a smirk.
There was a knock on the wall. “Claire?” Porsha called out.
“Yes, come in,” I replied.
“Your usual lunch is ready.” Her long legs carried her towards me as she held out a brown paper bag.
She mouthed, “He is fine as hell.”
I tried not to smile as I took the bag from her. “Thank you, Porsha.”
A grin spread across her mahogany cheeks. “You’re welcome, boss.”
Porsha turned on her clunky heels and quickly left the room.
Vino took the bag from my hand. “Let’s see what you were having for lunch.”
“Hey, Vino, give it back.”
“Does my competition send you lunch often?” he asked.
My heart raced in my chest. “Yes, every day.”
He nodded, pulling out a sushi box. “Would you have eaten it?”
“I didn’t have a taste for it,but I would’ve eaten it because he knows that I’m always busy. I rarely eat anything other than carrot sticks.”
“You said you don’t date.”
“I don’t. He and I see each other from time to time. There are no strings. Just, just…” I trailed off.
“Just what?”
My heart slammed against my ribcage. I couldn’t believe I was telling him this.
“Pleasure.”
His jaw twitched as he put the sushi box back into the bag before placing it in my grip.
“I don’t share, Claire,” he gritted out.
“Vino, what are you talking about? We just met. You and I won’t be dating.”
Our eyes met and his beautiful blue eyes held mine. “So you never want to see me again?”
I placed the bag to my right. “Vino, I don’t want anything from you.”
My body was betraying me the way my breath hitched as I held his gaze.
“Finish your meal so we can get to this private photo shoot,” he said, breaking the tension.
I exhaled and nodded. He was being a good sport about all of this.
Did I want to see him again? Of course.
I emptied our trash in the wastepaper basket nearby while Vino undressed again.
I retrieved my camera from the desk. My mouth dropped open when I turned around. The man stood in only his underwear. His hard dick was at attention in his tight boxer briefs. He had the audacity to try to shield the eggplant with his massive sized hands. Even they couldn’t hide it.
“Is the Louisville Slugger always that happy?”
“Nope. Seems he has a thing for you. And now that we’re behind closed doors, he’s harder to control.” He smirked. “Give me a minute.”
Vino’s head tipped back, and his eyelids lowered. I guess he went somewhere in his head. I took the opportunity to stare at it. I sank my teeth into my lower lip. I was having dirty thoughts.
The bulge began to soften as he looked at me. “I’m ready.”
I blinked twice. “Place your hands on your hips.”
I got right down to business. He had to see I was a professional, and I didn’t give into a man just because his body was molded out of clay and turned into solid muscle. I hid behind my camera and snapped away.
“Now turn around and put one foot on the square.” I adjusted his arms and hands until they looked perfect. A spark of electricity passed between us. I pushed down what I felt. Because two people didn’t meet and fall in love instantly.
You don’t do love, anyway. What about lust? How long can you keep up lust without it turning into love? Forever. I refuse to give into another man.
“Why do you look upset?” he asked. His beautiful, thick brows pushed together.
What was I supposed to say? I need to get out of your presence because we share a connection, and I can’t let that happen.
“Just thinking about my workload,” I lied.
He smiled knowingly. “Wednesday night, dinner. Friday, the boardwalk. It’s happening, Claire.”
My cheeks lifted on their own. This man had a way of drawing out parts of me I’d long buried.
“Now sit down and put your legs out in front of you.” As I positioned him, my hand brushed against his skin and I didn’t want to stop. Normally, I tried not to touch the models too much, but with Vino, it felt different.
I caught him reaching for me out of the corner of my eye, but he quickly stopped himself.
Maybe this photo shoot wasn’t such a good idea after all.
But as I snapped picture after picture, I couldn’t deny that he was stunningly beautiful.
“That’s a wrap. You can get dressed now,” I said with a smile.
I wasted no time scrolling through the photos while he got dressed. I couldn’t wait to see which ones turned out the best.
“That one’s really good.” I looked over my shoulder and tilted my head to meet his gaze.
“Sorry, I got lost in your photos. You’re very photogenic.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” I chuckled.
“Show me your favorites.”
He stayed behind me. I enjoyed the warmth of his body and his tall frame towering over mine.
“Remember, these photos are for your eyes only.”
I sighed. “Yes, I know.”
“I’ll let you get back to work,” he said.
I turned away from the tripod. “Okay.”
“I’ll see you on Wednesday.”
“I guess so,” I replied with a huff.
“You’ll have to get used to seeing me, Claire. I want you to understand that. It’s only going to be me. Tell the other guy it’s over.”
“And what if I don’t?”
“I’ll have to remove him from the picture.”
My eyes widened and my heart raced in my chest. “I don’t want you going near him,” I rushed out. “I think this is the last time we should see each other.”
He toyed with the ends of my dark strands. “You don’t mean that. Listen, I’ll leave him alone. I’m not worried about where you and I stand. We feel right together. Deep down you don’t want me to go.”
I wanted to scream and tell him to leave. Because I hated that he was right. What the fuck was happening?
“Vino, I don’t want you.”
He chuckled. “Now I know what beautiful Claire looks like when she lies.”
“Give me your phone.”
“No.”
“Now, Claire,” he ordered.
“I’m just going to erase your phone number when you leave,” I snorted out a laugh.
He chuckled as I placed my phone in his hand.
After he programmed his number into my phone he placed it in my hand. “Just know that you’ve been mine since the first time I laid eyes on you.”
My brows rose. “When was that?”
“See you Wednesday, Claire.” He walked out of the room.
So today wasn’t the first time he saw me. Was he stalking me? Who wouldn’t want to be stalked by a man who looked like him?
Claire, that’s not the right answer. It’s creepy for a man to stalk you.
Yet, it didn’t feel creepy.