Red. Erica Spindler
her expression somehow sad. “Except for the first time, it was always on location. So we had to hurry. And be careful not to muss my face and hair.”
He wanted to ask who she had made it with. The question pushed at him, but he fought it back. He rolled onto his side so they faced each other. He wasn’t surprised, not really. He knew what went on between models, photographers and about everyone else associated with the business.
It was just that Gina was so young and that until this year—as was industry practice—her mother had accompanied her to every go-see, every shoot. He asked her about it.
She nuzzled her face into his shoulder. “Mother and I have been doing this so long, she doesn’t notice much anymore. Besides, she’s so caught up in the whole thing, I don’t think she would have minded if she had known I was doing it with Giovanni.”
Jack stiffened, and she smiled. “I know what you’re thinking, that he’s so old. But he’s still sexy. He makes it with everybody. Besides, it was kind of a thank-you for using me that first time.”
“You’ve only done it with him once?”
“Uh-huh.” She lifted her chin. “Did you know, I was the youngest one there today. Of all the girls, I had the least experience.”
He didn’t reply and after a moment, she drew her eyebrows together, studying him silently. “Does that…gross you out or anything?”
He thought of her doing it with Giovanni and wanted to retch. But he supposed he could understand. Giovanni was a powerful force in the fashion community; he could do a model many favors. So he lied. “Why should it?”
“Well, I heard something today. Can I ask you about it?” Jack had an idea what she had heard but told her to ask anyway. “I heard that you’re his son. Giovanni’s.”
“His bastard son. Yeah, it’s true.”
“Wow. I’ve never known one of those before. A bastard,” she said as if testing the sound on her tongue. “What’s it like?”
He shrugged nonchalantly as if he had never thought about it before. “I don’t know. It’s just the way it is.”
“It’s pretty cool.” She sat up and stretched, her breasts lifting with the movement. He became instantly erect. “Did you know that Kim got a nose job free for doing it with a plastic surgeon she met at an agency party? Sara’s decided she’s going to get some tits. I might get a boob job, too. What do you think?”
He thought he was going to pop off just looking at her. He reached up and cupped her breasts. “I think they’re perfect.”
“They’re too small.” She arched her back as he moved his hands. “Shooters are always saying so.”
Jack sat up and brought his mouth to them. She whimpered with pleasure. “They’re crazy,” he muttered, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking it. “I think they’re terrific.”
For long minutes, they didn’t speak. Jack continued to kiss and stroke and cup her breasts. He found loving her that way unbelievably satisfying, exciting. He couldn’t get enough of her.
He brought his mouth to hers. “I want to taste you everywhere. I want to touch you, to stroke you.” He caught her bottom lip and drew it into his mouth. “I want to make you come.”
She shuddered, and he pushed her backward gently, until she lay sprawled on the couch. He splayed his hands across her abdomen and lowered his head. Her belly quivered as he trailed his lips and tongue across her soft, warm flesh. “You taste so good, Gina. You’re so beautiful, so soft…”
She tangled her fingers in his hair. He touched her everywhere. He explored and learned, about a woman’s body and about what pleased this woman. She arched and moaned and squirmed. She tried to pull him to her, again and again, but each time he stopped her. He wanted to please her, but he also wanted to know, finally, how to please a woman.
He slid his hands between her thighs, moving them up until he found her center. Wet and almost unbearably hot, he sank into her.
“Can I taste you here?” Jack didn’t wait for her answer, but placed his mouth exactly where he longed for it to be. She gasped and lifted her hips off the couch in response; he tasted and tested again.
He grew bolder, his body tautened, as she whimpered and moaned, as she squirmed under his hands, to his kisses, his caresses. He couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t taste enough. He found every part of her body to be perfect, enchanting. He loved her every texture and scent, every taste, every sound she made.
She cried out and bucked up against his mouth, her hands twisted in his hair. He felt her throb and quiver, and he knew a sense of such overwhelming power. In that moment, she was his. He was the center of her universe. He had made her cry out with pleasure, only him.
His control slipped, and while she still shook with her release, he thrust into her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, and they rocked together until he exploded inside her.
Afterward, she stared at him in adoration and shock. “That’s never…I never…” She let the words trail off, looking embarrassed and near tears.
Jack threaded his fingers through her damp hair. “Didn’t you like it?”
She flushed. “I loved it.”
He leaned his forehead against hers and grinned. “So did I.”
For a long time after that, they didn’t speak. They lay on their sides, facing each other, Jack’s sweater pulled partially over them. The mantel clock ticked loudly in the otherwise quiet room.
Gina’s eyes were closed, her breathing soft and even. “Are you asleep?” he asked.
She opened her eyes. “No. Just thinking.”
“What about?”
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “I was wondering, where did you learn to do, you know, all that?”
“I’ve seen and heard a lot of stuff. Mostly on location.” He grinned. “You’d be surprised what a kid can learn by keeping his eyes and ears open.”
She giggled. “I like surprises.”
She fell silent again, and Jack propped himself up on an elbow to gaze down at her. She arched her eyebrows. “What?”
“Just looking.”
“Oh.”
“Gina?” She met his eyes again. “Are you going to keep modeling?”
“For sure. After this semester, I’m quitting school. I’m already a year behind, and I can’t keep up.”
“School’s not my favorite thing, but my mother would have a fit if I even thought about dropping out.”
“Mine doesn’t care. This is my career, and I can only do it while I’m young.” She tilted her head, studying him. “What are you going to do when you get out of school? Go to college?”
He shook his head. “I’m going to be a fashion photographer.”
“Like your dad.”
“I don’t think of him that way,” Jack corrected grimly. “The only thing we have in common is blood. You’ve got to give a shit to be a father. Or a son. Besides,” he said, his voice tight with determination, “I’m going to be better than him.”
“Carlo’s going to be a fashion photographer, too. He told Sara.”
Jack narrowed his eyes. “I’m going to be better than both of them. You can bet on it.”
She looked up at him, her cheeks and eyes glowing. “I believe you will be.”
“Do you, Gina?” He smiled at her, pleased, feeling suddenly like the experienced one, the one in control.
“Yes,”