Chapter 8
"When are you going to schedule your practicum, Lexi?" she asks, knowing full well that I haven’t liked the nickname since I was seven-years-old.
"Why do you insist on calling me that?" I bark back. I'm tired of it. I thought that after I returned from Paris, my mother would have a newfound respect for me. She was the one who told me I'd never survive a month there, and I'd lasted more than half a year.
She shakes her head as if to ward off my question. "The practicum? When are you scheduling that?"
It was an important step towards my degree in education and before I'd stumbled into Noah Foster's life it had been on the top of my priority list. Now, I was so caught up in the idea of posing nude for him, that I'd pushed my actual career to the side. That needed to change today. "I'll arrange that today." It's a definitive answer that I plan to back up with action. In fact, if I leave now I can not only avoid a dessert course with my overbearing mother, but the midday traffic that clogs up the arteries around Boston too.
"What are you doing for money?" She taps her hand on the table in the upscale restaurant she dragged me to for lunch. "I thought you'd go back to working at the bistro when you got back."
My part-time job at Star Bistro being a barista had been fun when Sadie worked there with me. Now that she was married to the man whose family owned many restaurants along the east coast, serving coffee wasn't on her radar. I assumed I'd fall back into that routine after Paris, but my modeling job with Noah had changed all that. He was paying me enough that I didn't have to work, at least for the immediate future. I knew I'd need to start considering my options in the next few weeks though.
"I might look for something in child care," I say it as much to stun my mother as to appease my need to be around children. At first glance, I'm not exactly the type of woman that you'd immediately peg as being a kid person, but I love them and since I'm not qualified to teach just yet, helping out at a daycare of after school program seems ideal.
"Seriously?" She doesn't even try and disguise her surprise.
"Seriously," I repeat back as I stand and reach over to kiss her cheek. "I've got to run, mom. I'll talk to you next week."
With that, my parent quota for the week is officially filled without her having even the slightest inkling about what me and my naked body have been up to.
***
"You're going to tie me to that bed?" I point at the bed as if I'm trying to distinguish between it and an invisible bed within the bedroom room we're standing in. This bedroom, which is down the hall from the one we were in last time, is darker, edgier and actually has window coverings. "Noah, you never said anything about bondage."
"Your contract includes bondage." He glances back at me briefly as he sets up a light next to the four poster bed. "It's scarves, Alexa. They're for show."
"For show?" I peel my jeans off before slipping out of my black panties. This is only the second time he's seen me naked but I've already learned the valuable lesson that wasting Noah Foster's precious time only makes him cranky. If I cooperate fully, I'll be out of the bindings and this room early enough that I can meet my friend Kayla at a bar downtown.
He nods without turning his attention to me. I should take offense at the fact that he doesn't flinch at the sight of my naked body, but I've gotten over that. It's all about getting down to business now and getting this gig over and done with so I can move on with my life, money in hand.
"Get on the bed." He sounds more callous than last time, if that's even possible.
"In the middle?" I push myself to the center of the bed before resting my back against the very uncomfortable mattress.
He shakes his head impatiently. "How can the bindings reach if you're way down there?" He grabs my upper arm and yanks hard on it.
I wince as I pull it free. "F*ck, Noah. That hurt."
"I'm sorry." The words are barely audible and instantly leave me wondering if they are foreign to him. He doesn't strike me as the type of man that offers amends often. "You need to move up." He pats the mattress next to me. "Move your ass up here."
I scoot my naked body up towards the heavy, wooden headboard, painfully aware that his eyes are fixed on my bouncing tits. "Here?" I tilt my head down as I ask the question, wanting to catch his gaze.
He doesn't take the hint and for the first time, I feel vulnerable under his watchful eyes.
"Noah?" I whisper his name not wanting to call too much attention to the fact that he's frozen in place. "Is this good?"
His eyes travel slowly up my body before they land squarely on my face. "You're beautiful, Alexa."
I try not to smile too broadly at the compliment even though it means more coming from him than I'd ever admit. Regardless of the fact that we have a written agreement that clearly states that we aren't going to engage in anything beyond picture taking, knowing that he finds me beautiful, stirs up something deep within me.
"You're not bad yourself," I offer back. I should tell him that he's the hottest man I've ever been naked with but that would be pushing my luck and pushing buttons that aren't going to get me what I want. He's never going to f*ck me into tomorrow. It's just not going to happen.
"It really doesn't bother you, does it?" He settles onto the bed next to me, his strong, tattooed chest just inches from my touch.
"What?" I can't form a coherent response. Even though he's wearing jeans, he's still exuding more raw lust than any man I've ever met. I know that if he f*cked me, Nathan would become a distant memory of my second best lay and my time in Paris would cease to exist in my mind.
"The scar." His voice cracks as the word leaves his lips. "My scar."