Chapter 7 - His Lips

"What?!" Morgan wailed in disapproval. The high pitch in her vocals had almost ruptured my eardrum. "She's not a professional model. She'll ruin the entire shoot!" Isaac's lips formed a thin line, demonstrating his rebuke toward her unsolicited interference.

"I do agree with Morgan... But if you feel more comfortable performing the shots with your assistant, then so be it." The photographer snapped his head to the side and gestured for one of his staff come forward. Could you take Chloe to the backroom and have her changed into something… Spicy? The young girl nodded, then escorted me to the same changeroom Isaac was in.

I stood rigid, while she searched through a rack of rather flamboyant clothes. In merely a few minutes, the girl had stripped me naked and effortlessly slipped a beautiful black, lace dress on my body. The fabric clung to my curves with a long slit barely stopping at the thighs. My cleavage was on full display, causing me to feel vulnerably exposed to them… To him.

Is this what he wanted?

The girl had to practically nudge me out of the door, as I nervously shambled into the shoot. My head hung low, but I could still feel his attention on me. The intensity in his gaze was enough to light the whole building on fire, while all of us would willingly burn beside him.

I curiously glanced upward, watching as his spellbinding eyes narrowed into treacherous slits. They scrutinised my figure, leisurely drinking in my inviting appearance. I protectively wrapped my arms around each shoulder, concealing my breasts from his leer. I was utterly speechless by the sudden longing emitting from him.

"Sweetheart, don't be shy. Get a little closer and pose with him." I heard the photographer loud and clear, yet my body intuitively refused to adhere to his request. It was akin to advising someone to voluntarily approach their predator.

Isaac grew impatient and marched toward me with a roguish grin. I wanted to run, though he was faster. A robust hand tightened around my waist, harshly yanking me into him.

"Oh, how I would love an obedient woman." He clashed our bodies together, ensuring our hips were closely acquainted. "Don't worry, I won't bite." He murmured the last part in a sensually hoarse tone, sending shivers to descend my spine.

"That's it, darlings!" The photographer exclaimed with inspiration. "Don't move an inch!" The flashing cameras were not a pleasant distraction. It only fortified the defenceless position I was in. On the other hand, the photographer was having a blast, as he enthusiastically snapped images of us.

Overcome by immense discomfort, I casted my gaze on the floor to evade eye contact from Isaac. Tactlessly repudiating to provide me with any relief, he roughly grasped my jaw. I tried to pry his hand off, but that only made him dig his nails into my skin. I shrieked, earning unconcerned stares from everyone as they assumed we were playing some sort of role for the cameras.

Is this really how much power he has? To commit assault in front of an audience and not even get a slap on the wrist?

He tilted my face to meet his apathetic peer, causing the stinging sensation in my chin to spread to my neck.

"I love how dominant your pose is, Isaac!" The photographer praised with excitement. "A work of art!"

The fangirls applauded him in awe, identical to what two co-stars would receive after an award-winning performance. Could he get away with murder here too?

Water welled in my eyes when he dug harder into my cheeks, reluctantly parting my lips. A sadistic smirk etched across his wicked, handsome features.

"What do you want?" I sounded defeated… Weak. It all happened rapidly, his lips powerfully crashed against mine.

My heart raced furiously, whilst a wave of emotions swept over me. A mixture of confusion, fear and arousal. His tongue readily slipped into my mouth before I had a chance to register what was transpiring. With hungry and skilful flicks, he invoked a soft moan to slip from my lips. His hands explored my physique, rotating us in various compromising poses.

The room became tense as everyone, apart from the photographer, were in sheer shock. I absolutely hated the effect he had on making it thrilling. My eyes closed in an attempt to deepen the kiss, but he instantly withdrew.

"The prude finally got a little action, huh?" I gaped at him, startled by the abrupt jeer directed at me. He wiped his mouth, greedily licking his thumb in contradiction. "Why don't you tell everyone how 'excited' you were?"

My cheeks burned with embarrassment, as the room echoed with laughter. This son of a bitch! This was a trick to humiliate me!

"I'm glad you got kicks out of this," I hissed poisonously, seething with animosity. He raised an amused brow, sporting a crooked smile. "If you'll excuse me, I need to use the bathroom."

"Oh… I got you more enticed than I'd thought." He stabbed the final blow. Another upsurge of laughter resonated the room, provoking my jaw to clench with undying resentment. I headed to the bathroom in a scoff, struggling to contain the anger coursing through my veins.

Warm water splashed on my face to prevent that kiss from clogging my judgement.

I should have shoved him away and ran. What was I thinking by responding to it? The worst part is that I enjoyed his lips on mine. It felt natural as if they belonged together like two missing pieces to a puzzle. Fuck up, right?

I was disgusted with myself and confused by his abrupt change in personalities.

I'm certain I noticed the moment someone touched him had caused a weird reaction. What was wrong with him? Did he have a mental illness? I wasn't educated nor had experience in this.

The constant mind games made it almost impossible for me to decipher that. I washed my hands and left the bathroom, but not without stumbling upon a sight which truly repulsed me to the core. Isaac and Morgan were intimately pressed together and having a nauseating conversation.

"Aren't you a forward one?" He flirted, showcasing a suave grin. "Maybe I should take your offer and skip dinner…" His mouth hovered above hers, whilst his index twirled a strand of her hair. "Moving straight to dessert, gorgeous." Morgan giggled like a stereotypical bitch.

"Glady, beefcake." She retaliated by slipped his finger in her mouth and groaning, then slowly slithered it out. "As long as dessert doesn't involve peanuts. I'm allergic." She cluelessly teased, invoking bile to rise to my throat.

"I assure, you'll be getting a different form of nuts inside of you." I had to clutch my mouth to stop it from throwing up.

Why was I even putting myself through this torture? I could easily sneak towards the exits without them noticing.

However, bad luck always struck during the worst time. Isaac suddenly locked onto me, exhibiting a wolfish grin as he realised I was eavesdropping. His penetrating gaze stayed glued on me, as he began passionately kissing Morgan. I could see their exchange of tongues and saliva. His hand smacked her bottom, then squeezed it, which she responded by dry humping him in the most desperate show of arousal.

My eyes widened in startlement, bewildered as to why he'd intentionally create this disturbing spectacle. His fingers expertly undid her blouse, revealing her bare breasts. Fed up, and quite revolted, I scurried into the changeroom before they practically had sex in front of me.

I didn't know what the hell he was playing at, but I needed to seize this chance to escape when he was preoccupied. I gingerly removed the delicate black dress in fear it might get damaged if I acted with haste.

There's no way I can afford to pay any compensation for such an expensive piece of clothing. Joel needs every cent I make.

I was about to hang the dress on the rack when I swivelled around and came face-to-face with a tall figure. A screech escaped my lips as I briskly shielded my half-naked body with a towel.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you!" The photographer apologised, his expression appearing sympathetic. "I'm too used to popping in whenever I visit the models, but I should have knocked first."

"That's okay…" I was relieved wasn't 'him'.

"I just wanted to let you know that the photos were successful, and I've included a copy at the desk. In case, Mr. Hoffmann decides to use them to promote his new novel," he explained warmly.

"Oh, thank you for letting me know." I gave him a soft smile, hoping I seemed less nervous than I felt. "Um… I apologise if my modelling skills were not up to par."

"Originally, I was doubtful of the outcome. But you did a decent job," he answered honestly, and I appreciated it. "The poses we got from the both of you were sexy, intense and dangerous. Much like his books."

"Thank you for the compliment." My stomach knotted at the confirmation that everyone did, in fact, assume we were acting for the shots.

No one knew that he had purposely tried, and succeeded, in embarrassing me in their presence. They must have innocently thought he was being playful.

The photographer continued to compliment me and provide a few pointers on how I can improve my poses. He appeared so enthusiastic and had a real love for his work. As my concentration slowly faded, my eyes aimlessly drifted and halted at a shadowy figure behind him.

I strained to make sense of what it was doing and instantly noticed the sharp blade floating over the photographer's head. I gawked at him with my mouth agape. Isaac had put his index finger along his lips, while the knife drew closer to the photographer's neck. My chest heaved vigorously, as I attempted to scream but couldn't find my voice. I felt the pulsation of my veins, inadvertently conveying my panicked state to the photographer.