The Rich List Series

By: Talia Hunter

He lifted his gaze back to her face. Bad boy. He still knelt in front of her, though his expression was anything but obedient. No matter how good an actor he was, it was obvious he couldn’t stand to be at a disadvantage. When he started delivering his next line, she cut him off.

“Stop,” she ordered. “I’ve changed my mind.” He frowned, and she rushed on before he could object. “I want you to kiss my…” She was going to say ‘foot’, but at the last moment she chickened out. “My ankle.”

He hesitated, and she was sure he’d refuse. But he picked up her foot, encased in one of the wicked high heels Geena had lent her. Instead of bending right down, he dropped only his head and lifted her leg high enough that he could press his lips against the top of her foot. His hot breath sent a jolt of sensation up her leg and into her core.

He stroked her ankle and she caught her breath. She’d never had a man kneel in front of her before, let alone a man like him. His touch was a caress. It felt wonderful, sure but gentle. Mmm. She leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of his hands moving up to her calves. He might think he was being Thomas, but his touch had all of Max’s confidence.

He put her foot back down, and she cracked her eyes open. From this angle, his eyelashes looked impossibly long – the kind of lashes any woman would kill for. They contrasted with the hard edge of his jaw that was a hundred percent masculine. No, make that a thousand percent.

Max sat back on his heels. His expression looked anything but submissive. “Is there something else you’d like?” There was an eager growl in his voice.

Was that in the script? Did she have another line? Darn it, who cared? Ally let the pages fall. She picked up what was left of her chocolate martini and drained it. It was smooth and cold in her mouth, but going down her throat it turned into lava and bubbled through her veins. She slowly licked the chocolate off her lips.

Max watched her face, waiting for her next instruction. His body was still, but his blue eyes were intense. A picture she’d once seen of a cheetah in chains flashed into her mind. Its eyes were like Max’s. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’ve been tamed, they said. Max would fight the chains, but he had to wear them. She had to make him wear them.

Her heart raced. She could do this. Whether it was the strong drink she’d thrown back or the intoxicating surge of power that came with having him on his knees in front of her, her blood was on fire. She wanted to tame him. Hell, she wanted to punish him for being so gorgeous. In the real world he’d never give her a second glance. Well, she was going to make him look.

She put both feet on his thighs and dug her spiked heels into his skin. “Touch me,” she ordered.

* * *

Max ran his fingers down Ally’s calves. He’d never knelt at a woman’s feet before, but from down here the view was nice and the sharpness of her heels through his jeans was strangely exciting. She had shapely legs and her skin was smooth and inviting. He used his fingertips to trace a line down one leg, then slipped off one of her shoes. Her toenails were painted a sexy shade of red.

Supporting her foot with one hand, he massaged it with the other, kneading the sole of her foot. She gave a soft sound of pleasure that quickened his breathing. The soft light from the living room highlighted her cheekbones. Though her eyes were in shadow, they glinted underneath half-lowered lids. Her lips were slightly parted and her soft blouse clung to her curves. She looked damn good.

Her script was on the couch beside her. This foot rubbing wasn’t part of the scene, but when he was trying to get a feel for a character, it helped to play with the part rather than sticking too closely to the script. He liked that Ally was getting into the spirit of it, and she seemed comfortable improvising. He was doing the right thing in hiring a professional. Over the next week she’d help him find enough of Thomas’s character inside himself that it would feel real when he played him.

Max set her foot down and picked up the other one. While he worked on it, she gave another little moan that tightened his jeans.

Cool it. It’s not real. She probably moans like that for all her clients.

Good thing his body had never reacted like this on any of his shoots. Even in the middle of a lingerie campaign surrounded by models in skimpy lace bras and panties, he’d never felt the blood throbbing under his fly like he did now. But Ally’s knees had fallen apart, her skirt was riding up, and it was all at eye level. In front of him, gloriously close, her thighs parted. A path of delicious, creamy skin invited him closer, toward the black fabric nestled between her legs. A sheer scrap of fabric, easily swept aside.

Ally had told him to touch her, but with her feet pressing down on his thighs, he only had ready access to her lower limbs. If he shifted forward he could… but no. Thomas wouldn’t move without permission. Instead he stroked up Ally’s calves, reaching as high as he could without shifting his weight.

“That’s far enough, Thomas.”

Shit. Well, at least she’d called him Thomas. Ally had proved she could play the part and help him get into character. Proved it a bit too painfully, because his jeans were becoming uncomfortable.

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