Iris Blaire - Dark Frame

“Awesome shots,” Britain says. “I think we have enough good ones to wrap this up and move to the next set.”

“Really?” Dwain says. I watch as Britain’s back stiffens. “That was all great and everything—real cute —but this is a Halloween issue.”

“And your point?” Britain asks through gritted teeth.

“My point is this shoot needs to be darker. Maybe he should strangle her with the scarf.”

Her eyes nearly pop out of her head. Hell, my eyes nearly pop out of my head. As if on instinct, Miguel gently touches my neck.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Britain cries. “Even if we did go the BDSM route, I would be more subtle about it than having my models strangle each other. I don’t care if they’re naked, I don’t care if it is a Halloween-themed issue. I am still making art.” Britain doesn’t even give Dwain a second to argue. “Okay, people. Onto the next shoot before I lose my cool. Let’s see how many naked models we can fit into a cage. I hope you all love each other very much.”

When Britain has her back turned, Dwain and Melissa shoot each other dark looks. While Dwain types furiously on his iPad, Melissa walks out of the room with her phone to her ear.

I don’t think they like Britain’s attitude—not at all. And I have a feeling they’ll be butting heads for the next two weeks.

Miguel pulls me from my string of thought. “You think we got a good shot?” he says, brushing my arm with his knuckle.

I nod. “I think we got several.”

He smiles at me. Holy shit, the boy has dimples. “We’ll work good together,” he says.

“I think we will too.” If Britain keeps me with Miguel and our shoots get hotter, maybe he’ll help me keep my mind off my ex, but not so much to make me lose focus on school.

And that’s exactly what I need.

“I don’t know,” Britain says. She’s connected her camera wirelessly to her iPad and is looking through raw shots.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” I ask.

“The shots of you alone are gorgeous. Really elegant. I could totally see this as a full spread. But once Miguel is in the picture, it falls a bit static.”

“Well, it’s not like you were making us fake anything passionate,” I argue. “It was a kiss.”

“I know, I know,” she says. “But even something like this with you and Dallas would be way livelier.”

Impatience boils up in my chest. “You’re going to need to get over Dallas, Brit. Okay? I got over him, and now it’s your turn.”

“Alright, alright. Jeez. All I’m saying is that I might have you stick to solo shoots for the rest of this issue.”

“That’s fine.” I cross my arms.

“What? You mad at me?”

“No… do what you have to do.”

“You’re totally mad at me.”

I shoot her a quit-while-you’re-ahead look. She turns away from me and yells, “We ready to go?”

“You need me anymore today?” I ask. “I really have to study.”

“Get out of here,” she says as a bunch of models, giggling and elbowing each other, start piling into one of the weird cages lining the wall. “And thanks, Evan. For doing this one last time.”

“I’d do anything for you,” I tell her. “Even be choked out with a scarf, if you want to go that kinky.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re so dedicated.”

Britain

“Let’s get naked.”

This is obviously not the first time I’ve said this on a set, but I don’t think I’ve ever said it to so many models at once. After trying lingerie with the cage, I figured everyone crammed together in their underwear looked trashy, so I decided to go with the more artsy look of nudity.

I’m a classy girl.

Now I have eight models standing in front of me without an inch of clothing on. I’ve never seen so much dick in my life.

Interestingly enough, more guys are trying to hide their private parts than the girls. Delilah stands with her hands on her hips, waiting for my instructions.

I try not to stare at Jaime as I direct. Not because I’ve never seen him naked before. I caught him once on our parent’s couch railing some chick when my mom and dad were on vacation. I’m pretty sure I screamed, oh, gross , and ran upstairs, only to hear my brother doing the same thing in his bedroom.

“Okay, okay, crawl in the cage.”

I don’t have them pair off with each other until they’re all crammed inside, which, I admit, was a mistake. Now they have to pair off with the model of the opposite gender nearest to them. Delilah is bitching because Adam didn’t even try to reach her. Chloe looks uncomfortable—there are only girls around her.

“Don’t be homophobic,” I suggest. “Work with who’s around you. You don’t have to be raunchy. Subtly sexy is good too.”

“We’re naked,” says Adam. “You can’t be subtle when you’re naked.”

“Lose the boner, Adam. Yes, you can.”

The guys bust up laughing. Delilah scowls.

“Don’t assume we’re homophobes just because we’re straight, Britain,” Jaime says.

I cross my arms, my dangling camera resting between my elbows. I narrow my eyes at him. I know for a fact that he was extremely homophobic when he was in high school. Then again, he was in football, and that was almost a decade ago. “Alright, prove me wrong then.”

Jessica’s jaw drops to the floor and she gapes at Jaime. The rest of the boys say, “ Ohh!” In unison. Except for Jaime. He keeps his eyes glued on me, as if he’s ready and waiting to except the challenge.

And then Adam slinks up from behind him and wraps his arms around Jaime’s bare waist. Jessica squeals in delight, and Delilah cries, “Damnit, damnit, I can’t see! Why do I have to be stuck all the way on the other side of the cage? Motherfucker!”

I gulp, arousal building between my thighs. “T-touché. Now pose like you mean it. In fact, everyone. Your theme isn’t that hard.”

“A giant classy orgy in a cage,” says Adam. He rests his chin on Jaime’s shoulder, his hands sliding down Jaime’s thighs. And Jaime acts entirely in his element, leaning back into Adam, staring hard at me.

Waiting for my response.

I think of what Evan told me—about not giving into embarrassment. It’s what Jaime always wants from me.

“Yeah,” I say, dropping my tone to boredom. “I can almost believe you two want to fuck each other. Almost.”

Jaime cracks a wry, dangerous smile as Adam leans into him and licks slowly up his neck. I’m quick enough to catch it with the camera, the thrum between my legs building.

“Better,” I say monotonously.

Ella gets shoved in front next to the boys, which is perfect because she has crazy-amazing, frizzy sex hair and flawless breasts. She leans her body so her back is against Adam and Jaime. Delilah presses against her, faux kissing her as she cups one of Ella’s perfect breasts.

Holy fuck. I’ve shot a million times—I thought I would be immune to this by now. Why am I so turned on?

“Okay.” I clear my throat. “Okay, keep the energy up.” I prep for the next shot, deeply distracted by the way Adam’s fingers claw the taught skin of Jaime’s abs.

After the shoot, I hurry to my room, slam the door behind me, and press my back against it.

I’ve never wanted a partner more in my life than I do now. Because if I had one I would be able to ravage him instead of standing here all torn up from sexual frustration.

UGH.

I hurry to my suitcase and dig through my clothes before I find the small, purple vibrator I packed. I stare at it, wondering if I can relax enough for a couple minutes of sexual abandon before dinner, when a knock sounds at my door.