Manipulated: a Rockstar Romantic Comedy (Hammered Book 3) by Cari Quinn, Taryn Elliott

the illumination wouldn't reveal anything I was ashamed of. My dick and I were on good terms as a whole. Except when he waved hi when I would've preferred to pick my moment.
    Guess my moment was right now.
    She flipped a heavy black curl over her shoulder. “There you are.” She pulled out a lens that might be as long as my cock just then. With a few deft moves, she unlocked one lens, swapping it out for the other.
    “Are ya trying to get all my nose hairs then?”
    Her crimson lips peeled back into a full blown smile. Now my heart was beating in time with my dick. Focus, man. “You should do that more.”
    The smile faded. “What?”
    “Smile.”
    “Pose for me and I’ll keep smiling.”
    It wouldn't even have to be naked. Yet.
    “Deal.”
    She lowered the camera and her artfully lined blue eyes snapped to mine. Gone was the cool detached work Bettie. She quickly averted her gaze. “Thanks.”
    I cleared my throat “So, what do you want me to do?”
    “Can you do that sprawl thing again?”
    “For a picture of my ring?”
    “I’m going to focus on your ring and deemphasize your costume and body.”
    Hopefully that meant she’d focus on my ring instead of my bulge. Or maybe she’d shift her focus there for a little fun later. It would depend on if I could get her out of work mode.
    Sad that I wasn't as interesting to her as her photos, but I admired that sort of dedication. I was much the same. Usually. I had a feeling this woman could shatter my attention span with little more than a thought.
    I dropped my boot to the stone and shifted down in the chair. I pulled the coat a little tighter, hoping the shadows of the night hid most of my problem.
    “No, push that back. I want the purple brocade to hit the light.” She leaned forward and fussed with my shirt.
    My breath stalled as she closed a button on my shirt, then reopened it. Her touch was clinical, but it sure as hell didn’t feel that way in my head. Her short nails teased my skin as she twisted one of my necklaces to her satisfaction.
    Suddenly, she curled her fingers into her palm and met my gaze. Her jewel-like blue eyes widened. “Sorry.”
    I grinned at her. “By all means, do what you want to me. I am your clay.”
    She scrubbed her palm on her thigh as she backed up. “Can you fix your cross? I want the glint.”
    “Aren’t I going to be all blurry, or whatever?”
    “Light and shadow, Blackbeard.”
    I growled.
    A small smile returned. “Okay, there we go. Now just drape your hand on your—like that. There we go.” She took a bunch of pictures then paused to review the little screen. She frowned. “Dammit.” She nibbled on her thumb as she forwarded through the shots. “I don’t have time to put up lights and stuff.”
    “Didn’t come out?”
    “Not like I wanted,” she muttered. She twisted on her heel and looked around the area.
    She stood and I had no choice but to stare at her perfect ass. Truly perfect. What I wouldn't give to reach out and cup it my hands—
    Get a hold of yourself.
    I shifted in the chair again, then stood up. Where was a towel when you needed one? Maybe two or three? I was in fine form tonight apparently, and mere terrycloth was no match for my penis on a rampage.
    She pushed me out of the way and dragged the chair closer to the water. The pool was rimmed with purple lights under the surface and a few scattered spotlights. “Sit there.”
    “Bettie, we’re getting a little too close to that edge. Unless you want to…okay, then.” My eyebrows shot up as she unzipped a hidden zipper at the side of her pants. Not buttons after all.
    She pushed her camera into my hands. “Let me get in the water. If you drop that camera anywhere near liquid, I’ll make sure you have to use a hook for real. Feel me?”
    Oh, how I would enjoy feeling her. Too bad that thought sent me bobbing against my leathers. “Ah, there’s that violence again.”
    The spit in my mouth went from drool to sahara as her pants pooled