So that was what we did. For hours. I was the proud owner of the bluest balls in the history of blue balls. They ached and pulsed and begged me to help them out. I needed release like nobody’s business. This foreplay session had lasted long enough, thank you very much. It needed to end—preferably with an earth-shattering orgasm, but that wasn’t going to happen with an audience.

When Lewis said, do this, we did it. When he said more of this, we gave him more. When he demanded Jay find us a towel because the sweat trickling down our faces was messing up his shot, we shared a laugh because Jay had become Lewis’s errand boy.

We stopped and started and redid the shots over and over again with different angles and various suggestions from Lewis. When we stopped for lunch, I was starving and so goddamn horny I was set to burst. My erection would not go down for anything. The robe was my only saving grace. Eating with a hard-on was not something I was used to, but one glance at Asher told me he was in a similar predicament.

Charlotte sat with us and raved about how well it was going. She’d conferred with Lewis a number of times while we were shooting and explained how there had been a lot of really usable shots.

The afternoon session was short, and Lewis let us call it a day at three o’clock. Asher and I disappeared into the small changing area to re-dress.

“It went well.” Asher tugged his jeans up.

“Lewis can’t bitch at least.”

Asher watched, T-shirt in hands as I squirmed my way into skinny jeans. They weren’t half as easy to put on as his looser fitting ones, nor did they accommodate my still semi-aroused problem. When I struggled to zip up, Asher ducked his chin, dimples popping out.

“Yeah, laugh it up. This is your fault. I warned you about my damn nipples, and you exploited me.”

“Made the scene real.”

“Oh, it was real all right. Between that and your damn leg between my thighs, rubbing against me, I thought Lewis was gonna get more than he bargained for.”

Asher shrugged, but his humor was thick. He wasn’t sorry one bit. The bastard. He pulled his shirt on and used a small mirror on the table to look at himself as he finger-combed his hair.

“Jay is a bit of a gawker, isn’t he?”

“Ugh. Yes. He’s determined.”

“What were you guys talking about this morning?”

I fit my shirt over my head and took the mirror from Asher to check my hair. “He wanted me to come to his room for drinks tonight.”

“He wants in your pants.”

“He didn’t hide that fact. I told him no.”

“Good. I get the feeling he’s not used to hearing no from people.”