Half an hour later, Kendal announced they were going for snacks. That sounded like a good idea to me.
Trish was to the point she needed us to get oiled up to give the pictures a different texture. She wanted a sexier vibe.
So I went back to makeup, only to find Lana with a bottle of oil. Oh, crap. And everyone else was getting snacks. I would have to talk my way out of this one alone.
“Lana, this isn’t a good idea,” I warned her. “I don’t think Devin would like it if he found you putting oil on me. Frankly, I’m quite uncomfortable with this.”
“Let me worry about Devin. We need to get you ready for your next shot,” she said as she put oil on her hands.
“No!” I said as I put my hand up to keep her away.
I could see her resolve falter, and then she took a deep breath.
“If you ever want to work for Range Sports again, you’ll do as I say,” she ordered me.
“That would be sexual harassment,” Devin said, as he stepped from behind a dressing screen with a grim expression on his face.
I made a hasty retreat to find Kendal, Clare and Sandy waiting on me. I was pissed.
“Where were you guys? That was borderline painful.”
“That was my fault,” Sandy told me. “Devin wouldn’t believe that Lana wasn’t as ... committed as he was. I convinced him that he needed to see it for himself. I knew that with you running around in a Speedo, she’d soon be after you.”
“So I was bait?” I asked, worried. “I feel so bad for him, and I was involved. He must hate me.”
“No, he was hard to convince. He wouldn’t agree to do this with anyone else. So don’t worry,” Sandy told me.
Yeah, right. I wouldn’t care who my fiancée was hitting on, I would have a problem with the guy involved!
Trish saved me by telling me that I was on the clock and to get my ‘skinny ass in gear.’ That made me chuckle and put me in a better frame of mind. The makeup gal oiled me up, and I found Rose sitting on a lounge chair without any oil on.
“David, you’ve been a good boy all day and not hit on Rose, so I’m going to reward you. I want you to put oil on Rose, and do it in as erotic a fashion as you can without making it X-rated,” Trish told me.
I smiled and looked at Rose.
“Are you okay with this? I don’t know you very well, and don’t want you to get a creeper vibe,” I said to not make the same mistake Lana had.
“Oh, yes. I’ve seen the looks you’ve been giving me. The attraction is mutual,” she purred at me. “Let’s see what you can do, big boy.”
“You’ve no idea,” Kendal warned her.
I had her sit in front of me and began by giving her a scalp massage. Rose was moaning by the time I had worked the knots out of her neck and shoulders. She got lost in the moment as she enjoyed the massage. I found she had multiple sore spots on her back and not the normal tension tightness.
“Did you hurt yourself?” I asked in concern.
“It was stupid. I was doing runway work in LA last week and fell off my high heels. When I tried to catch myself, I felt a twinge in my back.”
“Lie down, let me see if I can help.”
I took my time and worked on her. At some point, even I forgot about Trish and just focused on Rose. About half way through I straddled her waist so that I could get the right angle at a particularly troublesome spot. Rose grunted and moaned as I worked on trouble spots.
When I finished her back, I suddenly realized where we were. I had been rubbing Mr. Happy on her delectable bottom and he knew exactly where he was. I had to get up and take a quick break to readjust myself. The problem with a Speedo is that readjustments really don’t make much difference.
I went back and worked on oiling up Rose’s legs and feet. Her feet were sore also from wearing the shoes she needed for modeling. Rose was a limp noodle when I finally told her to roll over. I started on her face and neck. Trish told me she wanted me to sit behind Rose and reach over her shoulders. We got the chair adjusted, and I sat down and Rose wiggled her butt at me as she sat between my legs.
I reached over and did her chest above her breasts. Rose leaned back on me, and my hands accidentally slipped under her suit and I found my hands cupping her breasts. I heard the camera going off and no one stopping me, so I teased her nipples.
Rose reached back and grasped my dick through my Speedo. Oh crud. We’d just crossed a line. I let go of her breasts, reached down, and pulled her hand off Mr. Happy.
“We have to slow down,” I warned her.
“I don’t want to,” she responded.
Kendal stepped in.
“Enough. David has clauses in his contract that we’re very close to breaking. I have to insist that we take a break at this point, and discuss the direction of this shoot.”
The effect was like throwing a bucket of cold water on us. Trish snapped out of it and said she had what she needed. She took Clare and Kendal to look at the photos, leaving Sandy with Rose and me. I guess we needed supervision. They needn’t have worried because the two of us were a little ashamed of how we’d acted.
Trish came out and asked for Sandy. Kendal and Clare replaced Sandy as our supervisor while she went in to look at pictures. Clare pulled Rose aside and I got Kendal.
“I’m disappointed in you. You need to remember that on a shoot you cannot be doing that.”
“I’m sorry, it wasn’t planned. She leaned back and my hands slipped.”
“I know that, but you didn’t have to leave them there.”
I looked at her like she was crazy.
“Really?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“I’ll give you some credit for remembering to draw the line when she grabbed you,” she teased me as she looked down and saw I was still aroused.
I decided now would be a good time and go take a shower and fix the problem. When I was done, I came out in a robe. The gal from wardrobe told me we were done for the day, so I got dressed. By the time I was done, Rose had left. Kendal handed me a piece of paper that had her number and a request to call her.
I GOT BACK TO AN EMPTY apartment and decided to go do my afternoon workout. I went to the exercise room to find several people using the equipment. I went over to the open section and began my thirty minutes of hell routine that Cassidy had taught me. When I was done, I collapsed on the floor, trying to catch my breath.
“That was intense,” a male voice said.
I looked up and saw a good-looking man in his late thirties, and a girl who was about my age, looking down at me. I stood up and realized how tall they were. She was just a few inches shorter than me, and he was at least six-six.
“How often do you do that?” the girl asked.
“Five to six times to week ... when I can. I run about every day and lift at least three times per week. I’m trying to get in shape.”
“When do you run and lift?” the girl asked.
“I try to get up early and run. I have to get it done before I go to work. Then I work out in the early evening if I get off early enough.”
“Where do you work?” asked the man, who I was assuming was her dad.
I decided not to tell them I was a model. That usually got weird reactions from fathers.
“I work for Range Sports.”
“What’re you getting in shape for?” the girl asked me.
“I play football. I’m going to some camps this summer and need to be able to perform for the recruiters.”
“What ...”
“Hang on, I’m David Dawson,” I said to slow down the string of questions I could feel coming on.
“I’m Tara, and this is my dad.”
“Evan Quaid.”
“What’s up with the twenty questions?” I asked.
Tara looked at her dad.
“Tara plays volleyball. We’re on vacation, and she’s been bugging me about needing to work out. She saw you trying to kill yourself and wanted to know if you’d work out with her.”
This was new. I’d never had a dad ask me out for his daughter. I knew he actually hadn’t but that was how it sounded.