Daddy’s Rules by Kelly Myers
Nick
As I click the camera, I wonder if I went too far. I’m being an asshole. I know I am, but what’s the alternative? Compliment her and tell her how great she’s doing? No, I want her to get better. Not be complacent.
I’m going to challenge Savannah Hart until she reaches a new level of perfection. And, yes, maybe I’m being more harsh than necessary, but it’s also important that she keeps her distance. If she hates me then she won’t come around and tempt me with those big, blue eyes.
“Head up,” I snap. When she lifts her golden head and looks up to the sky, a ray of sunshine hits her just right. And, something hits me in the gut. It’s low and fierce. Desire, I realize, and try to push it away.
Rule number three, Knight,I remind myself.
But, God, she’s stunning. She literally looks like an angel. Or, after all my berating, maybe the better term is martyr. So young, so innocent. I give my head a shake. What the fuck is wrong with me? I’m supposed to be working and all I can think about is if she tastes as sweet as she looks.
And, that damn perfume. I don’t know what it is, but the moment I smelled it yesterday, I wanted to lick her. It fits her-- some combination of sweet and a faint dash of spice. Last night when she came out onto the balcony, it wafted over and teased me to the point that I wanted to hop over that divider and devour her.
Instead, I lingered out there and let the scent envelop me. Then, I went back inside and jerked off.
She’s getting under my skin and the only way I know how to cope is to lash out. I’m being unprofessional, a complete ogre. But, what choice do I have? I have to keep my distance and that’s all there is to it.
Our relationship is strictly a professional one and that’s how it’s going to remain.
We move over to a new sign and, while the crew sets up, I watch her move off to the side and sigh. I can tell that she’s frustrated, but Savannah is a trooper. No matter what I throw at her, she lobs it right back. She’s knocking this whole photo shoot out of the park, but I’ll be damned before I tell her that.
The moment I laid eyes on her last night at the restaurant, she shook me. Hell, I choked on my drink. I’m not sure what I was expecting. Probably just another ditzy, empty-headed model, but the young woman I met was so much more than that. She possesses such a sweet, wide-eyed innocence and the nervous way she stumbled over her words and shook my hand for a minute straight was endearing.
And, frustrating. I don’t want to feel the overwhelming attraction that’s stoking a heat inside me. But, it’s there and doesn’t seem to be going away no matter what I do.
Fuck.
Without her realizing it, I snap a picture of her standing there, the wind blowing the gauzy dress up, the blazing blue sky and mountains behind her. I’m keeping this one for me.
When the crew is done setting up, I motion for Savannah. We’re working with the old Moulin Rouge sign and the letters were rearranged at some point to spell out “In Love.” I give her some clipped direction and she follows it perfectly. Of course, she does, I think and struggle not to roll my eyes.
If this were any other girl, I’d be thrilled. Despite the grief I’m giving her, she’s listening and taking direction like a seasoned pro. We shoot for a while longer and then it’s time to break for lunch. But, I’m not hungry and I wander off to take a break far away from everyone else. I’d like to be out of earshot when they start talking shit about me.
I find a bench in the shade and start scrolling through the hundreds of pictures I’ve taken so far today. Normally, when I’m going through shots, a good one will pop up every 20-30 pictures or so, but literally every single shot of Savannah is exquisite. The client is going to be thrilled and have a really hard time choosing which photos to use.
Savannah Hart is on the verge of catapulting into super stardom.
I’m glad to be the photographer who captured these flawless shots. I like the feeling that I’m the one responsible for bringing this kind of magnificence out of her. But, deep down, I know she had it in her way before she met me.
And, after this shoot? Photographers are going to be banging her door down to work with her and I’ll just be some faded memory. Maybe an anecdote in a future magazine article about the worst experience she ever had on set.
My eyes narrow. Well, the day’s not over yet so I can still give her some good material for that article.
All of a sudden, I look up and see a mangy-looking dog nearby. The poor thing looks half-starved and is probably dehydrated from this desert heat. I stand up and head over to the craft service tent where I load a plate up with some lunchmeat and cheese. I grab a bottled water and make my way back out and over to where the dog lays curled up beneath the shade of a large sign.
“Hey, pup,” I say and approach the dog slowly. “You hungry? Want some chow?” I drop down and sit cross-legged on the ground. The dog perks up and eyes the plate of food. I whistle, encouraging him to come over. “Don’t be scared.”
After a few more low, encouraging words, the dog gets up and makes its way over. I hand him a piece of ham and he takes it with utmost gentleness. “That’s a good boy.” Poor thing must be a stray. I’ve heard that people will drop unwanted animals off in the desert and it makes me sick. At least have the decency to take him to the pound where he has a chance to find a new home and be safe from coyotes and other prey.
For the next 20 minutes, I feed the dog and talk to him quietly. I think he’s probably the only one on set who likes me. It doesn’t take long before he’s sprawled out next to me, offering his belly and I give it a good rub.
He’s a scruffy-looking thing and absolutely filthy. I wonder how long he’s been wandering around out here, all alone, lost and hungry. Dammit. The last thing I need is a dog, but I’m already trying to figure out how I can get him home. I’m not leaving him out here to die, that’s for sure.
I glance down at my watch and realize it’s time to get back to work. The dog helped turn my mood around and I decide I’m keeping him. I scratch his head then stand up. “Don’t go anywhere, buddy. You just hit the jackpot.”
I motion for my assistant to come over. “Noah, I need you to help me out.”
“That’s why I’m here. Whatever you need, Nick”
“Find something I can use to leash this guy up. Then, I want you to drive him to the nearest groomer and get him the works. Bath, trim, nail cutting.” Noah frowns. Probably not what he expected, but whatever. “Make sure the place can board him overnight.”
“Okay.” He’s looking at me strangely, but I don’t care.
“You’re from L.A., right?” When the kid nods, I say, “Great. If I pay you a few hundred bucks, will you drive him back and drop him off at my house?”
“Sure.” Noah looks pretty happy now that he knows he doesn’t have to deal with me for the rest of the weekend.
“Thanks. Text me your info and I’ll Quickpay you.”
“Yeah, cool, thanks, Nick.”
“Appreciate your help on set, Noah, but now you’re in charge of this guy.”
“Does he have a name?”
I look down at the dog who is maybe some kind of shepherd mix and then nod. “Yeah. Paul.”
“Sounds good and don’t worry about a thing. I’ll make sure he’s all cleaned up and then bring him to you in L.A.”
I nod, give Paul another scratch behind his ear and say, “See you soon, buddy.”
As Noah handles the dog, I wander back to set and head over to the next place I want to shoot. It’s a huge shoe with a sign behind it that says Silver Slipper. When the others see I’m ready, they all jump up and get back to work. We take some time to set up the lighting and then Savannah appears in a short robe.
And, my heart slams against my ribs.
Shit, I totally forgot we had to shoot her in a bathing suit. I try not to pay attention when she slips the robe off and steps on set, but it’s impossible. Everything in me stands to attention and I curse under my breath.
The too-tiny, metallic bikini shimmers in the sun and starts a wildfire within me. Her curves are slim and elegant. Those long legs seem to go on forever and her perfect breasts are high and perky and, if I had to guess, a full B-cup.
I grit my jaw so hard, I’m probably on the verge of breaking a tooth. Relax. Just fucking breathe, Knight. I suck in a deep breath and motion to the slipper. Yeah, great direction. But, I’m scared if I try to speak, my voice will come out raspy and disjointed. Or, worse, crack.
I swallow hard and then do the only thing I can. What I’ve been doing all day. I turn into a complete dick.
“Up on the shoe, Sienna. Let’s go, we haven’t got all day. Jesus.”
She doesn’t say anything, just climbs up.
“Lean back. Stretch out on it.” She does it, but looks far from relaxed. I’m not sure whether it’s because of me or the minimal clothing she wears. “Relax. You look like an uptight virgin.”
Something flashes in her aqua eyes and, for the first time, I wonder if she is a virgin. The majority of models I’ve met are fast and loose. Holy hell. Could it be true? The fire inside hits a new intensity and I need to quench it fast.
“Fucking, relax, I said. It’s not that hard.”
“Sorry,” she murmurs.
“Don’t be sorry, just listen. Now, arch your back. Straighten that left leg out…”
She does everything I say, but I’m not getting the shot I want. All I’m getting is the beginning of a hard-on. And, it’s pissing me off.
“Sienna! Bend your leg. Jesus.”
“You said to straighten it!”
Did I? Fuck if I remember.This little girl has me so mixed up right now, I don’t know right from left or up from down. “Bend it, goddammit,” I hiss. Then, I stalk right up to her and lean down into her face. I lower my voice so only she can hear me. “And, if you ever correct me again, I’ll throw your scrawny ass off my set.”
Frustrated tears fill her eyes and, before I even realize it, she slides off the huge shoe and shoves past me, snatching up her robe. I watch her run away and I shove a hand through my hair. Guess I finally pushed her too far.
And, I feel bad.
Shit.
Everyone looks awkward and no one says a thing. I throw the camera strap over my shoulder and stalk after her. I end up finding her on the bench I sat on earlier and drop down beside her. I know I went too far and need to apologize. But, she’s driving me crazy. I’ve never been so attracted to anyone like this.
“Sorry,” I mumble. “You didn’t deserve that.”
She swipes at her nose and when she looks over at me, I’ve never seen eyes so incredibly blue. Like the Caribbean Sea.
“I was so excited for this shoot, but...I don’t think I want to work with you anymore,” she says.
This should’ve been one of the best experiences of her life and I ruined it. I turned into a verbally-abusive asshole because I didn’t like the way she was making me feel. Not cool, Nick. So not cool.
“Savannah-”
“Don’t you mean Sienna?”
I let out a sigh. “I’m an asshole, okay?”
“No, it’s not okay,” she says and frowns. “And, if that’s your attempt at an apology, it really sucks.”
I feel the corner of my mouth edge up and have to give her credit. She’s a saucy little thing when she wants to be. I look up at the lowering sun and know it’s time to call it a day. I got every shot I wanted plus 1,000 more. “I sincerely apologize. Truce?”
For a moment, it doesn’t look like she’s going to forgive me. She’s really taking her sweet time, actually, and I arch a brow. Finally, she relents. “Truce.”
The softly-spoken word fills me with an odd sense of relief. “Let me make it up to you and buy you dinner. Since neither of us ate lunch.”
She gives me a strange look, surprised that I knew she didn’t eat, too. But, of course, I knew. I spent every other second of the break, surreptitiously watching her while I was petting Paul.
“You don’t have to,” she says.
“I insist.” When she gives a slight nod, I stand up. “I’m going to let the crew go.”
“We’re done?”
“I got all the shots I wanted and then some.” I start to walk away then turn back. “You did great today,” I add in a low voice.
A surprised, half-smile curves her mouth. “Thanks.”
“I’ll come over at 7 to get you for dinner.”
“Okay.”
A few minutes before 7pm, I pace back and forth in my room. I’ve showered, shaved and changed my shirt twice. I feel like I’m about to jump out of my skin. I don’t know what my problem is, but I’ve been acting nuts all day. Since the moment Savannah stepped on set and nearly made me forget to breathe.
That’s what it is about her. When I’m in her presence, I forget. I forget to be professional, forget to be polite, forget my rules, practically forget my own goddamn name. All I can focus on is her. I want tomorrow to be better on set than today’s fiasco so it’s important I smooth things over at dinner.
I just hope Savannah Hart is a forgiving person and we can maintain our truce.
Just one more day, I tell myself. Then, we go our separate ways.
At exactly 7pm, I walk over and knock. As the door swings inward, my mouth drops open a fraction. Savannah wears some slinky red dress and heels that make her look even more tall and slender than usual. She reminds me of a long-stemmed, red rose and I feel a stirring below my belt.
I try not to read too much into it. She’s a model. She’s beautiful. Aren’t they all?
“Hi,” she says and steps out into the hallway. “Where are we eating?”
“Um, I made reservations for Top of the World.”
Her eyes light up. “Where’s that?”
“It’s at the top of The Stratosphere. The dining room revolves 360 degrees every 80 minutes.”
“Oh, my gosh, how fun.”
I figured she might like something quintessential Las Vegas. Especially since it’s her first trip here. A half an hour later, we’re sitting at a table beside the large window, looking out over the blinking lights of the city. Actually, I’m looking at Savannah and she’s gazing out the window. The view out the glass may be nice, but the view across the table is even more spectacular.
“This is amazing,” she says. “You can see the whole city.”
“Wait til it starts to spin.”
“Ooh, I can’t wait,” she exclaims.
I open my menu and see a few vegetarian choices, but nothing vegan. “Are you really a vegan?” I ask.
She gives me a sheepish look. “No. I tried to go vegetarian once, but then I realized I couldn’t eat my Mom’s chicken and dumplings and, well, there’s no way I can give those up.”
“I kind of figured by the way you kept eyeballing my steak last night.”
“I did not,” she says. “Well, maybe a little.”
“You’re not originally from L.A., are you?”
“Nope. How’d you guess?”
“You’re normal.”
She laughs. “I’m from Ohio and I think I know one person who’s actually a native Californian. She lives in my apartment complex and, I can assure you, she’s quite normal and very nice.”
When the waiter comes over, I order my usual Jack Daniel’s and she orders water. “You don’t drink?” I ask.
“Not really. I guess every blue moon.”
“There’s a blue moon tonight,” I say and scan down the drink menu. “You like salty or sweet?”
“Sweet,” she says, eyes sparkling.
“Can you make the lady a Kir Royale?” I ask.
“Of course.”
After the waiter walks away, she leans forward. “What’s that?”
“It’s a French cocktail made with Creme de cassis which is a berry-flavored liqueur and champagne.”
“That sounds delicious.”
“It’s about as sweet as you can get.”
“I don’t know a lot about alcohol so thank you for ordering for me.”
“You’re welcome.”
I feel like I should apologize again for today, but I don’t want to even bring it up. Things are going smoothly right now so I decide to wait until after we’ve both had a couple of drinks. “So, you still have family in Ohio?”
She nods. “My parents and younger sister live there. I miss them, but it’s nice to be out here, chasing the dream, you know?”
“When this campaign launches, I think you’ll have achieved your dream.”
“I hope so. Like I told you, I’m saving money for school.”
“To be a vet.”
She nods and the waiter returns with our drinks.
I watch closely as she lifts the glass and takes a sip.
“Well?”
“Oh, my gosh, delicious! Where has this drink been all my life?”
I laugh. “Didn’t you just turn 21?”
“Yes,” she says with a perfect smile. “Last month.” For a moment she doesn’t say anything, but then she frowns. “I kind of regret not having a party. My neighbors wanted to throw me one, but I said no.”
“You didn’t go out on your 21st birthday?”
She shakes her head. “I’m not a big party girl.”
“So, you rarely drink, you don’t like to party...What do you do?”
“I work a lot and I like to, ah, read.”
I can’t help it. I just blurt out the question that’s been like an itch in my mind all day. “And, spend time with your boyfriend?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Wow. This beauty is far too gorgeous and smart to be staying inside and reading. What a waste, I think. Maybe there’s something I can do about it, though.
“Okay, now you’re depressing me,” I say. “I think it’s time you let loose and have a little fun. For Chrissake, you’re in Vegas. The city requires you to do something wild and outrageous.”
“Otherwise, I’d be doing a disservice to the city?” she asks with a saucy smile.
“Exactly. You’d be giving Sin City the finger and I don’t think I can let that happen.”
“So, what do you propose? A drunken night out on the town?”
“Sure. Among other things.”
Our gazes meet and there’s a brief flare of heat in the depths of her bright blue eyes, but then she looks away. “My friend pretty much said the same thing before I left. That I should celebrate a little.”
“Your friend sounds very wise.”
“I guess I’ve just always been the good girl,” she admits and finishes her drink in one, long swallow.
God, a dark, dirty part of me would love to change that.
Dinner and dessert are delicious and, by the time it’s over, we’ve each had three drinks. I’m fine, but I can tell Savannah is tipsy as hell. After paying the bill, we head out to the elevator and right when I’m about to hit the down button, she grabs my hand. “Wait,” she says, aqua eyes glowing.
With mischief?I wonder and look down at her slim fingers wrapped around mine.
“I’m not ready to go back to the hotel yet.”
I raise a brow and feel her squeeze my hand.
“Wanna play?”
The invitation makes my cock turn rock-hard. “Play what?” I ask, voice suddenly husky.
“How about Truth or Dare?”
I frown, not quite sure where she's going with this. But, what I do know is the more I find out about her, the more I like her. The attraction is dangerous, but I can’t help it. She mesmerizes me on every level. Especially when she said she’s always been a good girl.
Christ.I’m willing to bet my last dollar that she’s a virgin. That’s never been a turn-on for me before, but now I can’t stop thinking about it. “Yeah, okay,” I say. “I’ll play.”
A smile lights up her face and she claps her hands.
Maybe I shouldn’t have let her drink three Kir Royales. Oh, hell, who cares? She’s earned it.
“Truth or Dare?” she asks me.
“Dare,” I say.
She points to the sign on the wall that advertises SkyJump. “I dare you to do it.”
“Are you joking?”
“Are you scared?”
I narrow my eyes, knowing she’s got me right where she wants me. Vixen. “No, I’ll do it.”
Instead of down, I hit up and we head to the roof and, all the way, I think I must be losing my damn mind. Yet, 20 minutes later, I’m strapped into a harness, standing at the edge of the roof and on the verge of leaping off. I’m glad I had those three drinks.
I look over at Savannah and she’s positively glowing.
“I think you should jump, too,” I say.
“I think I’d rather meet you at the bottom,” she says with a wink.
“You’re really something,” I tell her. Then, heart pounding, I turn and step off the building, 829 feet above the street. And, fuck me, it’s exhilarating as I plummet down at over 40 miles an hour. I zoom down to the landing pad while the crowd below gasps and applauds.
What a rush.My heart’s still in my throat as they help me take the harness off. As I walk over to the hotel’s entrance to meet Savannah, my legs feel like rubber. I could easily throw the dare back in her face because I know that’s what she’s going to pick. But, I have other plans.
When she flies out the front door, she’s laughing and full of life. “I can’t believe you actually did that! You’re braver than me.”
I do kind of feel like a superhero and, still riding on the high, I grab her hand and lead her around the corner. “Your turn,” I say. “Truth or Dare?”
And, just like I knew she would, Savannah chooses dare. And, I’m ready. “I dare you to let me kiss you.” Her eyes flash blue lightning and I move closer, pushing her back against the wall. When I lower my face to hers, I feel her arms snake around my neck and then I brush my lips against hers.
I place my palms above her, flat on the cool brick and, other than my lips, I don’t let myself touch her. I hold back, not wanting to scare her and doing my best to keep the kiss on the innocent side. Well, as much as I can. I just want her to relax and let go. I don’t let myself think about the possible repercussions. I only enjoy her soft lips and how she tastes like berries.
It’s okay, I tell myself. We’re just playing a silly game. It doesn’t mean anything.
