Page 16 of Bailey Bangs Her Brother's Best Friend
I slide the door open and Silas follows me out and to the left.My heels softly tap on the wood.I take off the robe, tossing it on the railing to the side, and look at the mountain.I rest my hip against the railing.In front of me, Silas should be able to see the sky, the snowy woods, and the mountain with ski runs cutting white lines through it.
The camera shutter clicks away behind me.
And I realize—I’m not nervous anymore.I’m in control.
“Look back at me,” Silas says.
I turn my head, just barely looking at him through the curtain of my hair.He’s full of movement, trying to find the best angle to get the shot.
And then Silas lets out a groan.I’m not entirely sure he knows he did it—either that or he’s pretending it didn’t happen.
I think of the way he immediately said that my ass was his favorite part.The teddy is cut high on my hips, the lace in the back a thong.
“Can you...”Silas starts, and then he clears his throat.“Do you want to lean forward a little?”
The rasp in his voice encourages me, and I step back just enough to rest my elbows on the railing.
“Wow,” Silas says.
The woods behind the house are thick with that cold quiet.The trees are pines, fluffy with snow.Over the tops of the trees is the mountain, and if I squint really hard, I can see the chairlift moving and tiny skiers on the slopes.
Feeling brave, I cock a hip and lean further, arching my back.I almost miss Silas’s sharp inhale over the clicking of the shutter, over the pounding of my own heart.I’ve never done anything this wild, never felt like such a siren before.
I move one foot just an inch or two further from the other.
Click.Click-click-click.
And then there’s silence, and when I straighten and turn back, Silas is kneeling, knees spread wide.His hair’s a mess, as if he’s been running his hands through it, and he looks wrecked, like maybe I’ve ruined him.
A shiver runs through me, goose bumps breaking out across my skin.
“Are we done?”I ask, ready to step away from this porch and closer to him, closer to the warmth.
Silas tilts his head, and to my dismay, he smooths down his hair, stands up, and turns back into the room.He’s tucking away his thoughts, putting everything back into the professional box.“Yeah, that’s probably enough.”
“Yeah,” I echo.I throw the bathrobe back on and follow him into the room.For a moment, I wonder if he’ll reach for me, but the box is closed, and he doesn’t look at me.
“Go change,” he tells me as he puts his camera away.“I’ll pack up.”
I want to snap back something sarcastic—Yes, sir or Thanks for the permission—but the dismissal stings too much for me to manage humor right now.
So I just go.
In the bathroom, I stare at myself in the mirror.My cheeks are flushed, my hair not as orderly as it was before, but Ifeelsexy as hell.I can’t imagine that Silas took a bad photo of me.I feel like I’ve seen myself differently, which is exactly what I wanted.
My outfits for the day were laid out on the counter and there’s one left—jeans, a blouse, and a more comfortable set of bra and panties—but I don’t want to give up this lingerie.I’m not ready for this feeling to go away.
So I slide my jeans on over the teddy and slip the black, flowing blouse over my head, thankful that the lace doesn’t show.
My cheeks are hot and my lipstick mostly bitten off, despite the mid-shoot applications.I wash my face and reapply, keeping it lighter this time.
The photo shoot was everything I wanted it to be.But it also feels like something has changed.Silas was on the job, true, but there was a shift between us.When did it start?When we were laughing?When he took his shirt off?When he cupped my ass in his hand?
I shake my head, trying to knock the thoughts out.I’ve never seen a sliver of interest from Silas in all the years I’ve known him.If there was something there, I would have noticed it.Right?
But that groan.The way he looked at me on the porch.The way his hand lingered on my thigh.
Maybe I haven’t been paying attention.Or maybe I’m seeing what I want to see.
