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Chapter 4:
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The next day, on my way to the shoot, I stopped by the mall to pick up Alice. She was wearing her uniform with a jacket over it and she was practically bouncing on the carseat.
"This is so exciting," she said. "So what kind of shoot is it? Swimsuit? I hope it's swimsuit."
"Almost," I told her, slinging her a smile. "Lingerie."
"Oooh, lingerie. Is it for some kind of catalogue?"
"Not quite. This one isn't for advertisement, it's a fluff piece for a men's magazine. You know those cheesy spreads that include interviews with the models?"
"They're going to interview you?"
"Mmhm, but they generally make up whatever they think will sell the issue. According to the last interview I did, my hobbies are chess and horseriding, and I prefer men who are kind and generous but assertive when they need to be. Which is amusing, considering I've never been attracted to a man in my life, regardless of how assertive he might be."
"I guess all those magazines are bullshit."
"Well, not entirely. I do enjoy horseriding."
She giggled. It was mid-afternoon and we were cruising downtown, almost at the studio. She was still excited but she seemed slightly deflated at the context of the shoot, so I figured I better tell her about something before we got there.
"Actually, I should warn you," I said. "I'll be doing the shoot with another chick and there'll probably be a little faux-lesbian imagery involved."
"How faux?"
"All very innocent, don't worry," I reassured her. "An embrace or two, some light touching."
She didn't seem to approve very much but she tried not to frown. "Well, I guess it's your job. Does it bother you, though? Doing shoots like that? I mean, it's kind of objectifying, don't you think?"
I turned the corner and shot her another smile. "I prefer to think of it as glorifying," I said.
She giggled again and apparently decided to withhold judgement for a while. After witnessing the shoot for herself I'm sure she would see it my way.
Mather's Photography was located in the loft over James's actual apartment, which certainly would've been convenient for a man who liked to combine business and pleasure the way James did. He was very a high profile fashion photographer and many models were quite eager to work with him and quite grateful afterwards. His charms were mostly lost on one such as myself but even I had to admit he had a way with women that I could almost admire. Credit where credit is due, I suppose. From one predator to another.
By the time we got there he was already at work on the model I would be working with, Ms Rosalie Hale if I recalled her name correctly. The set consisted of a bed with white satin sheets and she was attired only in white lace and white stockings. He had his camera in his hands and he was talking to her very animatedly with lots of grins and smirks that she kept stealing glances at. I took one look at her body and felt an unfamiliar throb of jealousy. She was just as perfect as the picture I had seen of her yesterday morning and I was mildly put out to find that her perfection in the picture hadn't been airbrushed at all.
Victoria was standing by with a couple of techs and excused herself when she saw Alice and I. Alice was glancing about, kind of shy, taking it all in. Victoria spared her a glance but focused her attention on me.
"There you are, we're about to get started," she said. "Rosalie's already changed."
I had my jacket folded over my arm and I glanced again at the blonde standing by the bed in her white heels and white lingerie. "Is that her?"
"Of course it's her," she said. "You see any other half-naked bimbos around here?"
Victoria was looking down at her iPad and I gave a pointed glance at her tanktop and at the waistband of her underwear showing above the belt of her jeans. "Aside from you?"
She grinned and turned to Alice. "Who's this?"
"This is my girlfriend, Alice," I said. "I told her it would be okay if she came to watch."
Alice smiled at her excitedly. "Hi. I've never been to a photo shoot before."
Victoria looked skeptical, as if wondering if she was still in kindergarten. "No problem," she said. "Just keep to this area of the studio and don't make any noise, alright?"
Alice nodded vigorously. "You won't even know I'm here."
I smiled at her enthusiasm and kissed her cheek, partly just to be sweet, partly to mark my territory in front of Victoria. "I have to get changed," I said. "I'll see you later."
I glanced at Victoria as I turned away. Victoria knew what I was doing and smirked and shook her head.
The costume designer and the makeup girl chased after me as I was going across the studio and followed me into the dressing room while the designer explained what I was supposed to wear. Apparently I'd be in black as a contrast with Rosalie who was in white, a classic arrangement that suited me just fine. I nodded at it all and took off my clothes, folding them and leaving them on a chair while the designer handed me a black lace bra and black lace panties, waiting till I had them on before handing me a garter and some stockings as well. The makeup girl was already working on my face while the designer adjusted my breasts for me, making sure they were almost spilling out but not quite, and finally I was ready.
Alice had somehow acquired a cup of coffee and she was blowing on the rim when I came out into the studio. When she saw me, she stopped blowing. A grin spread over her mouth at my costume, at the black heels and black stockings and black lace lingerie, and I gave her a big sexy wink as I was called over to begin the shoot.
"Oh, Bella?" called James in his dry and pompous voice. He could demean you just by saying your name. "Anytime you're ready to join us, we'll get started."
I didn't greet him, I just swaggered past in my black underwear with an air of distain. My blonde counterpart, Rosalie, looked me up and down in blatant assessment.
"Rosalie Hale," she said by way of introduction. "Nice to meet you."
I looked her up and down as well, smirking at her outfit of white lace and back at her eyes in a way that she couldn't really misinterpret.
"The pleasure's all mine," I said.
A flicker of something passed over her face—confusion? Suspicion? James rolled his eyes at the exchange and said:
"Ladies? If we could get started?"
I gave him a dry look and turned with a smile back to my blonde colleague, eager to get to work with her.
The shoot began with a series of stock shots against a green screen arranged in the corner of the studio, random poses that might be used or might not. Out of the hundreds of pictures that would be taken, only a handful of them would make the actual magazine, and considering the intended audience of the magazine, possibly only the ones that showcased our breasts well enough. These initial shots were mostly solo, the two of us standing slightly apart as we moved through the poses that were so familiar to us, bent at the hip or back arched or hands in our hair with a laboured gaze at the camera as if struggling with some frustration. James would call out creepy encouragement and instructions in that annoying voice of his, enjoying his job of telling beautiful women what to do. Like me he was originally British, but his accent was lower class cockney, which made you want to punch him. He kept trying to draw my eyes to the lens but it was to the blonde beside me they kept drifting.
The woman's perfection seem to grow with every glance. As a connoisseur of female beauty, I was really quite intrigued. She didn't have the same magic as Alice of course—Alice's appeal when beyond the physical—but anatomically speaking she didn't seem to have a gene out of place. From the tilt of her pelvis to the curve of her spine to the length of her torso and the gap between her thighs—everything was perfect. Slim, tall, her legs so incredibly long, her waist so incredibly trim, her hips so round and smooth. Her hair, long, blonde, lustrous like a mane. Even her face was perfect, with features that seemed to have been chiselled by a bunch of wistful angels. Everything, all of it perfect, and all at the moment enhanced by white patent leather heels and white stockings with lace trim and white lace panties and a white lace pushup bra, gold rings on some of her fingers, a string of pearls around her neck. Her slim, long, attractive-looking neck.
My eyes flickered over her pulsepoint as she craned her throat under the flash of the camera, a low hunger already beginning to brood in my stomach. It wasn't even a matter of temptation, it was a matter of must. I had to have this woman. She didn't drive me crazy the way Alice did but Alice was a special case. And this one was special too, only in a different way. For three hundred years I had wandered the earth in the quest for only the finest pieces of ass and in all those centuries I don't believe I had ever witnessed a woman as sublimely perfect as this Rosalie Hale. To let such a specimen slip through my fingers without even a sip would be a regret I'd carry for the rest of my existence. Alice and her intimacy issues would have to forgive me, but I had to have her. Eventually.
Alice was still watching from her corner of the studio and she still looked excited and half-turned on. She kept her eyes mostly on me but she had a few glances to spare for my blonde cohort as well, naturally enough. James called for a break after the first shoot and Victoria handed me a towel as I went over to check on Alice.
"Wow," she said, a pretty pink blush still hovering over her cheeks. "You look incredible."
"Thank you," I said, using the towel to dab at my forehead.
She was staring at my body unabashedly, half grinning, half in shock. "Wow," she repeated, her eyes lingering over those tiny scraps of black lace that hugged my body so intimately. "I've never seen a woman wear anything like that before. Not up close."
"Then you're in luck," I told her. "Dating me, you'll be able to enjoy me in underwear like this all the time."
She looked at me in excitement and I smirked and added:
"Whenever you're ready to take it to the next level, of course."
She giggled. "Now who's a tease?"
"Still you, by my calculations."
She giggled and went back to staring at my costume. "Wow," she said one more time. "I still can't believe how incredible you look."
I smiled at her. "You haven't seen nothing yet."
She opened her mouth to ask what I meant but then James called out from across the studio where the bed was arranged as the secondary set.
"Time for bed, Ms Swan," he called. "Let's go, chop, chop."
Alice blinked innocently. "Bed?"
I handed my towel to a nearby tech, winked at her, and sauntered over to the bed.
Where my blonde companion was already waiting. Now came the more provocative part of the shoot, the part I enjoyed most. Me in black, her in white, sprawled and languid amid the rumpled white satin sheets and white satin pillows, like twin cats reclining there. It began innocently enough and soon progressed to some more risqué shots with her head in my lap like a spent lover or me with my arms and legs around her from behind while she clutched a pillow in her lap, like girls at a slumber party. She was very professional about it, of course, far more than I was. I admit I took a few liberties with the intimacy, inhaling her scent subtly, letting my touch linger over her skin. She seemed to notice and she grew slightly uncomfortable but she didn't say anything.
Alice watched all this with a nibbled lip. There was no question how sexy it was but she still couldn't quite seem to approve. Perhaps it was jealousy. I could certainly understand that. I gave her a reassuring smile every now and then but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just a little distracted by the closeness of my new blonde friend. It was like a taste of things to come, a sweet sampler. A whiff of her hair and perfume as she turned and crawled and spread herself beside me on the sheets, the two of us gazing at the camera before turning our heads on the same pillow to gaze into each other's eyes for a shot of that as well. I held the eye contact for a moment too long and flickered my eyes at her lips. The hunger had grown powerful enough to tempt me to kiss her right then, in front of James and Victoria and even Alice, but it was temptation only and I squashed it after indulging it for only a moment.
The only thing I disliked about the shoot was James himself, constantly barking orders and ordering us into different positions. He had a terrific vision for female beauty, but god, such a pig. At one point he wasn't quite satisfied with the upward angle of my ass while I was posed on the mattress on all fours and he even embarrassed me slightly with how he kept telling me to lift it higher in that obnoxious voice of his. I did, but it still wasn't good enough, and eventually he called over his lovely assistant Victoria who climbed onto the bed behind me and put her hands on my hips and lifted my ass to the desired angle while I glared cattily into the lens for the picture, not acting. James took a few and then he lowered the camera, grinning like an asshole. Victoria was smirking as well. She had taken the opportunity to grope me a little while adjusting my ass. I contemplated filing an assault charge against her but that would've been hypocritical considering I kind of liked it.
The only one not smiling was Alice. She was kind of pouty and she glared at both James and Victoria until I smiled at her to say it was fine.
The shoot was almost done and the final few shots consisted of a mock pillow fight, with me and the blonde each clutching a corner of a satin pillow while glaring across the bed at each other as if we were so sexy we just had to fight about it. The emotion on my side wasn't even faked. I truly was jealous. I don't deny it—in fact, I savoured it. Jealousy was an emotion I felt far too rarely and it was quite exciting to feel it now, to gaze at her body and bask in her ever so slight superiority. In some ways, you might say I had her beat. Our bodies were remarkably similar in height and stature, the only real difference was our breasts. Mine were bigger. Whether or not that was a good thing, however, was certainly open to interpretation. One could argue that mine were too big and distracted attention, while hers, on the other hand, were simply an utterly perfect complement to the overall arrangement of her body—not too large, not too small. Perfect, just like the rest of her. A sublime sculpture of flawless femininity.
Finally the shoot was over. James lowered his camera. The camera was attached to a strap around his neck and he pulled off the strap with a jaunty flourish.
"And that's a wrap," he said. "Lovely work ladies, beautiful as always. Tomorrow we'll finish up the outdoor portion of the shoot. I'll have my assistant get you the info. Until then—it was a pleasure."
He held out his hand. Rosalie climbed gracefully out of the bed, in her heels and lingerie, and shook the hand before continuing toward the dressing room.
He offered the hand to me. I smirked at it haughtily, turned on my heel, and followed Rosalie.
The dressing room was essentially a huge mirror-walled closet filled with racks of costumes and a couple dressers scattered with makeup and a chair or two. Rosalie had already taken off her shoes and she had a foot propped on one of the chairs as she unclipped the garter from the stocking and rolled it down along her thigh and knee and down her calf to her foot. I started with my bra, unlatching it and letting my breasts free. I was about to make my first move on her and it never hurt to be topless while making an advance. She had already moved on to her other stocking.
"Well," I said conversationally. "I'd say that was a successful shoot, wouldn't you? I had a lot of fun."
"Yeah, me too. We have good chemistry."
"I'll say," I purred, with a blatant smirk at her long legs and long torso.
She smirked as well. She was reaching behind her back for her bracatch and she took the bra off while I was still watching without even a moment's hesitation.
Good sign. Good sign.
I had only a glimpse of her breasts but they were every bit as perfect as I had predicted. They were actually quite similar in size and shape to Alice's. She dropped the bra and hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties, turning aside so as not to be so obvious. It was her left side exposed to me and something caught my eye on her finger.
"Is that an engagement ring?" I asked.
She looked at her hand as if she had forgotten about the large diamond there. "Yeah."
"Who's the lucky guy?"
"His name's Royce. He's a banker at National Savings."
I nodded. We were putting on our regular underwear now and organizing our streetclothes. The news that she was engaged didn't discourage me too much. There had been no possibility of her being single and perhaps a challenge would be just the thing to work up a proper appetite.
"How long have you been engaged?" I asked.
"Just over a year now."
"And when's the big day?"
"Actually, we haven't set a date yet," she said. "He's so busy with work. Soon, though. Hopefully in the spring, or maybe the summer."
I smiled and nodded some more. Perhaps this would be easier than I thought. A non-committal fiancé, a wistful young bride-to-be who was perhaps a little bi-curious if her glances at my boobs were any indication. She pulled her top down over her chest and fluffed out her blonde hair.
"What about you," she said, "are you seeing anyone?"
"Nope," I said, with a charming smile. "I'm completely unattached."
She glanced at me as she hitched up her jeans and buttoned them. Her purse was sitting on one of the dressers and she went and fetched it.
"Well, I better get out of here," she said. "See you tomorrow."
"I'll be looking forward to it," I said, so sweetly that she actually had to glance over her shoulder as she left the room.
The exchanged had left me flushed with delight and I smiled to myself as I finished dressing leisurely. It was nice to have new prey, prey so lovely that she had made me completely forget about my rule of avoiding relationships with women I work with. I remembered now and I didn't even care. In any case, this was a little different. This one was straight and engaged. There would be little hope of seducing her into anything other than an isolated encounter or two—which was fine by me. My habits as a vampire made traditional relationships all but impossible. The only thing I wanted was a taste. Of her blood and of her magnificent body. I sighed and noticed the discarded white lace underwear on the ground. Smiling, I bent and picked up the bra. The bra she had been wearing only a few minutes ago, the bra that had cupped and hugged her ultra-perfect breasts. I let my eyes fall closed as I lifted the undergarment to my nose and inhaled. Her pheromones yet lingered in the lace and I could smell the flashes of attraction that she had felt for me.
Rosalie was gone by the time I exited the dressing room. I had my handbag over my shoulder and I cast about the studio, looking for Alice. When I saw her, I frowned. She was with James.
She didn't seem to be enjoying his company but that was hardly the point. He was obviously hitting on her, wearing a big sleazy grin along with his black suit over his black silk shirt. Alice was blushing and shaking her head. I didn't need to read lips to know he had asked her if she was into dudes. The sight infuriated me but I carefully kept it out of my expression as I strode over. James saw me coming and smirked in his insufferable way.
"Bella," he said, "you never told me you're dating such an incredible little creature. You should've bought her around sooner. I could even use her in a shoot." Grinning, he turned back to Alice. "What do you think, beautiful? Have you ever done any modelling?"
"No, I…"
"No? How come no? Look at you, you're amazing. Tell you what, why don't we get you some experience right now? All we need to do is take you in the back and whip off your clothes and find something sexy for you to wear, hm? Or maybe you could wear nothing at all, what do you think?"
"James," I said.
He turned to me. I gave him a chilling smile.
"I bought her here to keep you from hitting on me," I said. "Not so you could hit on her."
Most men would be intimidated by me but James was just too shameless. He smirked and put his hands at my hips suggestively and stepped into my personal space.
"Well, if you'd prefer me to hit on you," he said, "say no more."
My skin crawled at his proximity but outwardly I remained poised and unruffled. "How about I hit you instead? In the face."
"That might be fun. I like a girl who likes to play rough."
I stepped back and slapped him.
A sharp stinging sound that rang through the studio. Alice gasped and touched her mouth but most other people didn't even look over. Victoria was on the phone and she only glanced once before going back to her conversation. James making a spectacle of himself by infuriating a woman wasn't much of a novelty to his staff. His head had whipped to the side and he held his cheek. Then he turned back to us, smiling as if nothing happened.
"So how about it?" he went on. "You girls have any plans tonight? Because if you don't, you're coming with me. VIP section of the Bayside Club, what do you say? Just drinks, no funny business. Unless, of course, we can get you drunk enough."
The man was incorrigible. Alice gave a queasy smile. I took her arm and drew her toward me.
"We'll pass," I said. "But we're flattered, I'm sure."
He shrugged as if it was our loss and watched with a smirk as I led Alice out of the studio.
It was getting late by then, dark outside, so Alice and I decided to make a date of the rest of the night. Neither of us were particularly dressed to go out—she was still in her uniform from work—so we stopped at a small Chinese restaurant and had dinner there, together at a booth in the back. She went to sit at the other side of the table but I took her hand and sat her beside me instead. We smiled and bumped elbows as we ate. We giggled. We broke open our fortune cookies and swapped fortunes.
On our way back to her place we stopped at a liquor store and browsed for a bottle of wine, perusing the aisle with our arms around each other's waists, examining labels and price tags. She kept asking me which would I like but there was nothing I would've liked more than her own tasty self. In the end, we settled on a nice merlot.
By the time we got back to her place I seemed to have fallen in love with her all over again, or at least as close to love as I was capable. I was reminded that there was simply something about this girl, something that drew me more strongly and deeply then anyone of recent memory. I could even feel a slight ache in my chest, not just from how much I wanted her but something else as well. Guilt? Regret? I wasn't sure but part of me was certainly glad to be out of that studio and away from James and Victoria and that infallible blonde named Rosalie. This is where I really wanted to be. With Alice.
It was the first time I had been inside her apartment and I took a quick look around. It was smaller than mine, more cozy, more lived-in. Alice had left some clothes laying around and she quickly grabbed them while apologizing for the mess. The coffeetable in the livingroom held a laptop and a cluster of nailpolish bottles and a stack of women's fashion magazines. I wish those were the kinds of magazine I could pose for, but alas, such magazines rarely had use for scintillating spreads of lace-clad supermodels, which were my specialty. I did model regular clothes on occasion but the opportunities were rather limited.
After she had tidied up a bit she took me into the kitchen and began rifling through drawers for a corkscrew. The trip to the studio was fresh on her mind and she was still making conversation about it.
"I still can't believe the nerve of that photographer guy. What a creep. My skin's still crawling."
I chuckled once. "Sorry about that," I said. "It seems I underestimated him."
"I'm glad you bought me along, though. That was really fun. You gotta make sure to get me a copy of the magazine the pictures will run in. That outfit you were wearing was just too hot."
She had the bottle between her thighs and she was straining as she tried to pull out the cork.
"I'll get you a copy as soon as I can," I said, pleased she was beginning to approve.
She was still struggling with the cork. I smiled and took the bottle from her gently. She gave me a cocky look as if she didn't think I'd be able to do it either and her eyes went wide I simply pulled the cork out with absolutely no visible effort.
"Wow," she said. "How'd you do that?"
I had been showing off my vampire strength and it was probably ill-advised but I wanted to impress her. I set the bottle and the corkscrew on the kitchen counter and smiled at her.
"But just so you know," I went on, continuing the thread of the conversation. "You don't need a magazine if you want to see me with my clothes off. I'll take it all off right now if you wanted me to."
She seemed seriously tempted but I think we both knew tonight wasn't the night. She poured a little bit of wine into two glasses and smiled.
"How about tonight we just makeout?" she suggested.
"Sounds nice to me," I said, taking up a glass. "When?"
"Well, we could watch a little TV first, or…"
I didn't wait to hear any other suggestions, I just took her hand and tugged her gently toward her bedroom. She giggled and grabbed the wine bottle to bring with us.
Her bedroom was much like her living room – a little messy, mostly cute. Makeup and clothes everywhere, a medly of perfumes and bodyspray lingering in the air. She finished our first glasses of wine and then we set the glasses together with the bottle on the nightstand before climbing onto the bed. All we took off was our shoes but that was enough. My hunger ached for more and more but the rest of me was infused with a strange and simple gratefulness for every moment, naked or not.
I was on top and I was cupping her face and kissing her mouth with all the longing and desire I could muster, showing her exactly how much I wanted her. She moaned softly and remained quite passive, accepting my kiss as if it was her due. Her lips tasted like wine and they were so soft and warm. Her scent was teasing my nose and her moans were taunting my eardrums. The experience was maddening and soothing all at the same time and slowly my kiss became more insistent. More desperate. I could feel the smooth skin of her cheek under my hand and the softness of the nape of her neck and I pulled her mouth toward mine, desperate to show her how badly I needed her. My tongue went into her mouth and she enjoyed that for a while before she broke the kiss with a giggle.
The spell was broken momentarily but only momentarily. She smiled at me and I hadn't even noticed that her hand had gone up my top.
"Wanna go for second base?" she offered.
Smiling, I slipped my own hand up her top and carefully cupped one of her breasts. It was shielded by the cup of her bra but so soft, so amazingly soft. She giggled and squirmed slightly and I squeezed it gently and popped it out of the bra. She bit her lip and dared me with her eyes to fondle it. I did. It fit perfectly in my palm, a small mound of incredible softness.
Meanwhile her own hand was rising in my top until she too took a handful of one of my breasts. The touch sent a wave of excitement outward from my chest, all over my body. She gave it a squeeze, moaning as my own hand continued to work under her top. I had her nipple between my thumb and forefinger and I was rubbing it gently. Her face had gone flushed and frustrated and her squeeze was slightly rough. She moaned again and with her other hand she took the hem of my top.
"May I?" she asked.
Rather than answering, I sat back and did it for her, pulling off the top and discarding it over the side of the bed. And then, smiling, I unclasped my bra and discarded it as well.
It was a bold move and it shocked her. Her mouth opened and her eyes twinkled with mischief as they flittered over my large, pale, naked breasts. Without speaking I opened the buttons of her blouse and I was delighted to find her bra unlatched at the front. I glanced once at her eyes for permission and found nothing but excitement. I unlatched the bra and opened it.
They were small, small and perfect. I cupped them both in my hands needingly, flicking her nipples with my thumbs, making her gasp and jolt on the bed. I leaned down and kissed them each, a loving kiss on each of her hard tulipbud little nipples and then I settled on one of them and sucked on it gently, causing her to moan and squirm softly.
"Oh god," she said, her voice strange and on the edge. "I knew it was going to be hard to wait but this is torture."
"Tell me about it," I said, lifting my face to look at her.
She swallowed a lump in her throat and I could tell I was wearing her down. Smiling, I leaned toward her seductively, presenting my chest to her face. She already had my breasts in her hands and she was squeezing them and kneading them, watching the huge mounds collide and mash together and jiggle softly. I stroked her forehead and she kept her eyes on mine as she lifted her face and licked one of my nipples.
A soft hiss escaped me as sheer excitement swept over my body. My eyes closed and when they opened they were still connected to hers.
"Does this mean we've waited long enough?" I asked.
She had her lips around my nipple and her eyes crinkled as if she were smiling.
"Nope," she said. "It just means I wanna suck your tits."
"Oh, you tease," I moaned. "You naughty little…ah—!"
She cut me off by taking a nip at the swollen nub between her teeth. I groaned and glared at her helplessly, my nipple throbbing in torment, my pussy, my whole body. She was still gazing up at me and then she smiled, closed her eyes, and began sucking on my nipple very lavishly and gratuitously.
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