Then, he slides his tongue out of me and swirls it around my clit before sucking it into his sweet mouth.

“Oh my God . . . Kyan!” I scream and grip onto his thick hair as my orgasm rolls through me, and he’s right . . . he doesn’t stop. He keeps licking until I fall still from feeling so weak and drained.

I feel his hands run up my back before he lifts me off his face and sets me down beside him.

“Holy fuck,” he runs his tongue over his lips, tasting what’s left of me on his mouth. “That was so fucking good. Next time I want my cock in that tight little pussy of yours, Calla. I want to feel you as you squeeze me.”

My whole body shivers from his words and the thought of him fucking me. Hearing him say it only confirms how badly I really do want it. I never expected to have a fuck buddy, but I have to admit that I love the sound of it. At least I get to touch this man.

“I hope we got enough shots for the cover,” I say out of breath.

I hear him laugh before he reaches down and adjusts his thick erection. “We have more than enough. Trust me.”

We lay here for a few minutes just enjoying the silence, and I can’t help but to feel my stomach sink at the thought that I didn’t even get to feel his lips on mine. They’re just so soft and sexy, but I don’t want to bring it up. I have no idea how this all works.

Without even an ounce of awkwardness, Kyan helps me get dressed and walks me to his door.

He hands me my camera, but pulls it away as I reach for it. Before I know it he has me pressed up against the wall, his mouth crushing against mine.

His free hand reaches up and squeezes my chin as his tongue runs along the seam of my lips, before swirling around my tongue as I open up for him.

This man knows how to use his tongue. He’s definitely no half-assed Brad. It’s as if he takes pride in being able to use his tongue for the pleasure of others.

The perfect man . . .

He pulls away and smiles against my lips while handing me my camera for real this time. “Thanks for the shoot.” He shoves some cash into the front pocket of my shorts. “This is from Olivia. Don’t try to give it back. Her email is in there as well.” He backs away from me and opens the door. “Meet me at the gym Thursday night at eight. I have a special training session set up.”

“Special?” I question, with a lift of my brow. “I’ll see you there.” I walk out and laugh, not bothering to turn back to look at him. I seriously have no idea how I should feel right now, but I feel good. Too damn good.

I don’t hear his door close until I step onto the elevator. The doors close behind me and I immediately fall against the wall, breathing heavily.

“Holy shit! Is this even okay?” My vagina sure in the hell doesn’t care. That’s for damn sure.

I find myself in slight panic mode before I calm myself down and give myself a little pep talk, reassuring myself that it’s perfectly natural for two grown people to fuck just for pleasure. It’s something that happens every day, just not with a man as sinfully sexy as Kyan.

This is something most girls can only dream of . . .

I HEAR TORI’S ANNOYING VOICE yelling in my ear. “Hello! Are you in there?”

I elbow her in the tit. “Don’t yell in my ear. Yes, I’m in here.” I gesture around the dimly lit room at the dancing couples and overdone decorations. I’m surrounded by red and gold. “I’m just ready for this damn reception to end.” I look down at my cell phone to see that it’s already seven thirty. I’m supposed to meet Kyan at the gym by eight and this party doesn’t look close to ending soon. “It’s been going on since three. Aren’t they tired yet? My finger’s going to fall off if I click that button one more damn time.”

Tori raises a brow, bored. “Tell me about it. Not only is it the longest reception in history, but it’s also boring as shit. Where’s the booze and Funyuns? Seriously though. These people have poor taste in refreshments.”

Okay, so she might be over exaggerating a bit on this being the longest reception in history, but it sure feels like it. I’m getting so antsy that I can’t even think straight.

It’s already bad enough that my mind has been on Kyan for about eighty percent of the night, and now that it’s getting close to seeing him again, I’m beginning to feel impatient.

I start walking around just snapping a bunch of pictures in hopes that if I get to a certain number of shots that I can just leave. The newlyweds are slow dancing to about their fiftieth song and everyone else is now watching in wonder. I guess it could be that the couple is in their sixties. I guess them being out this late is sort of a big party for them, even when there isn’t any booze or Funyuns.

Joining in the clapping, I smile at Mrs. Crawford as the couple finally leaves the dance floor. She gives me a slight head nod and walks in my direction.

“You looked beautiful out there, Mrs. Crawford. And so happy. Congratulations.”

She gently tugs my arm and pulls me close to her ear so I can hear her speak over the music. “You and your friend did a lovely job, but I think we’ve kept you kiddos late enough. Go home and enjoy your night.”

Yes! Yes! Yes!

I smile small and tilt my head. “Thank you for having us. Please tell Mr. Crawford that we’ll have the disk ready in a week,” I say, while trying to stay calm and not too overly excited about finally getting out of here.

She nods once and waves before walking away to join her husband at the table. She’s been away for less than two minutes and it already looks as if he misses her. Isn’t that something?

Tori lets out a long, relieved breath next to my ear. “Thank fucking God.” She links her arm through mine, and then starts walking me toward one of the tripods. “Let’s get the hell out of here before I start to wrinkle just from looking at all of these old people. There’s old people everywhere and it’s seriously starting to freak me out.”

Tori and I pack up our equipment faster than we’ve ever packed up at a wedding before. By the time we get in my jeep, my cell phone already reads two past eight.

“Shit, I need to hurry.” I shove my key into the ignition and hurriedly pull out of the parking lot. It’s about a ten-minute drive to downtown Chicago and I still have to change into my new workout gear.

Tori looks up from typing on her phone as I impatiently tap the steering wheel when the car in front of us slows down. “Don’t get your titties all twisted. Why the rush?”