Too Wrong: Hayes Brothers Book 2

Having learned a lesson from my mistake, I grab a roll of paper towels when I pull out of Cassidy, spin her around and kneel.

“I can do it myself.” She reaches to snatch the towels out of my hand, but I swat her away, my heart thumping faster.

I’m riveted, watching the pearly trickle of my cum drip from the pink of her pussy and down the pale, milky skin of her thighs. It’s undeniably hot that she let me come inside her; that she trusts me this much. 

“Not this time, but don’t get used to this.” I clean her up gently, best I can with dry paper towels. “I’m not doing a good job down here, princess.”

“Thank you,” she says when I rise to my feet.

She fastens the button of her light, baggy jeans and turns away to face the coffee machine, the skin in the crook of her neck flared thanks to my teeth. I’m only half aware of what my lips and hands are doing when I’m with Cass. Every time I slip inside her, the Earth stops spinning.

It’s just us, locked in an alternate dimension.

Not unlike the first time, the world could go to hell while I’m buried in her pussy, and I wouldn’t notice. Her scent drives me fucking incoherent, and the cute whimpers fuel my hunger. I push through the sting of my muscles burning with the effort, driving into her like an animal in heat, starved for the way she soaks my cock and clenches around me when she comes.

“How long will this take?” I ask, snatching a cup of black coffee from the counter.

Cass starts the machine again, picking a caramel latte on the touch panel. “That depends on how well you and Mia work together and with the camera.”

An overdoor bell chimes, informing us of Aisha’s arrival.

Perfect timing. Not a minute too early.

I stroll out of the kitchenette, curious about the girl I’ll be posing with. Aisha stops by the loveseat and flings a large bag off her shoulder, heaving with the effort. Partially hidden behind her back, wearing a pink pinafore dress, a white, long-sleeved blouse, and a pair of white sneakers, stands a tiny girl.

Honest to God, I’ve never seen a girl this dainty. About five-foot-nothing, she resembles a fine porcelain doll. Long, dirty-blonde hair is braided into a crown, cheeks a deep shade of pink, and big, green, cute eyes.

“Hi,” she says in a sweet, melodic voice, a shadow of a smile twisting her full, pouty lips. “You must be Logan.”

“Yeah, and you must be Mia.”

She bobs her head, glancing at Aisha, who empties her bag, littering the coffee table with hair products before hurling a pair of jeans and a white tank top at Mia. “Put this on.”

Where? 

Other than the doorless kitchenette, there’s nowhere for this girl to change, and I don’t think she’ll casually strip in the middle of the studio without bursting into flames. She’s so fucking timid I feel like a big bad wolf when I move to grab a tall room divider, and she takes a step back even though she’s not in my way.

The room divider is probably an expensive prop, but it’ll serve its purpose. I block the kitchenette doorway, gesturing for Mia to get in once Cassidy emerges with a cup of coffee.

“How old is she?” I whisper to Cass, my eyebrows drawn together. No way I’ll touch her if she’s not legal.

“Eighteen,” Aisha chirps, not at all quiet. “Sit down, Logan.” She points to the director’s chair by the window, a comb in hand. “Don’t look so mortified. I’ve done this before.”

I’m only mortified about touching Mia in case she shatters to pieces at the touch of my hand.

While my hair is subjected to all kinds of pulling, spraying, and modeling, Cassidy works on the set-up, muttering a string of incoherent gibberish under her breath. I catch actual words like lighting, exposure, and lens, but other than that, she’s not making much sense.

Mia comes out of the canteen in light jeans and a tank top, hiding the two inches of bare skin under the collarbones with her arm, cheeks still scarlet.

It’s good that she’s not supposed to face the camera. She’s so shy I dread the upcoming hours, but I also keep stealing sideways glances at her round, absolutely flawless face. It’s almost unnatural. She’s not wearing make-up but looks photoshopped.

I bet one of the triplets would lose his shit for this chick. She’s gorgeous. Probably not their type due to sheer insecurity radiating off her, but Conor could make it work. He acts tough, but he’s the most caring of the seven of us.

Stop playing matchmaker, idiot. They’re all kids.

“Are you in college, Mia?”

“Yes. OCC.”

“Then I bet you know my brothers. There’s three of them, Cody, Colt, and Conor.”

“Yes, they’re impossible to miss,” she admits, tugging on her bracelets as if talking to me is too stressful. “We’ve been in the same schools since kindergarten.”

“Are they behaving themselves?”

“I wouldn’t know.” She accepts a cup of coffee from Cass, relaxing a little and no longer covering her chest. “They’re a year above me. We don’t have any classes together.”

“What about the parties?” I ask, and wince when Aisha pulls my hair too hard. “Watch it,” I tell her.

She just scoffs. “Does she strike you like a party girl?”

Mia’s face falls at the comment, eyes no longer glowing as she sinks into herself, abashed.

Wow. How can anyone be so timid?

“Right, I think that’s perfect,” Aisha adds. “Now, shirt off, stud. Let’s see those pecks.”

I cock an eyebrow, smirking when I pull the t-shirt over my head, taking zero care not to mess up the hairstyle she worked on for ten minutes. Her eyes roam my chest, head tilted to the side as if I’m a dress she considers buying. Cass spins around, blue eyes on me, and she swallows hard, desire clogging her throat. It’d be safer if she’d stop gawking at me like she’s ready for my cock again.

“Let’s start with just you. I’ll need a few shots for promotional material,” Aisha says.

Judging by Cassidy’s glaring and the twitch of her lips, Aisha might be stepping on thin ice, trying to take the reins. I take my place in front of the camera, and during the next thirty minutes, I discover that posing isn’t as easy as it seems. Cass keeps repositioning my head or arms, scolding how I look at the camera.

Lose the grin

Smile.

Shoulders back.

Don’t frown.

Frown.

Look at the door.

Look at me.

Scowl.

Jesus Christ. All the while, she jumps around the set, readjusting the lighting after every picture, changing the camera angle, or replacing lenses. She’s in her element, confidence and passion written all over her face, and a major turn-on at that. She’s talented, too. She plays with lights and shadows, creating the most engaging shots.

I flick through the pictures while she swaps the backdrop. Aisha peeks over my shoulder, which isn’t easy at her height, but she makes it work without resting her chin on my shoulder.

“Mia, are you ready?” Cass asks.

She peels those big eyes from a copy of “Around the World in Eighty Days” by Jules Verne and tucks the book in her bag. She crosses the room, shoulders tense, steps small.

“Let your hair down, sis,” Aisha says, and Cass’s and my heads snap over to her. “What?”

“You didn’t say she’s your sister.”

“I thought it’s kind of obvious. We do look alike. What does it matter, anyway?”

Okay, that’s it. I don’t like Aisha. Her attitude toward Mia is obnoxious. She barks orders at her like she’s a dog, and Mia obliges without hesitation. I have no idea where the need to fight her battles comes from, but it floods my system, and I want to tear Aisha’s head off.

“Where do you want me?” Mia lets down her long, wavy hair, stopping a foot away from me. “Is this okay?”

“Logan first.” Cass positions me to stand with my back to the backdrop, glaring at the camera, then shows Mia what her stance should be.

“Stand straight!” Aisha snaps, barging onto the set to push Mia a step forward. “He won’t bite, you know?”

Mia bounces off my chest. She braces her palms against the muscles on my stomach, then immediately backs away. “Sorry.”

“Either sit down and shut up, or find someone else to do the shoot.” I stare Aisha down. We won’t get much done if Miss Big Shot Author doesn’t shut up. “Or better yet… it’s almost lunchtime. Go and grab us something from The Olive Tree.” I take a few hundred’s out of my wallet and shove the money in her hand. “Tell them to let the chef know I sent you.”

“The Olive Tree?” she asks, her tone sweet like sugar, my outburst completely ignored. “Why? That’s on the other side of town.”

Which means we’ll have an hour to work in peace. “My sister-in-law is the head chef there. She knows what I like.” I’m sure if Aisha weren’t desperate to have the pictures done today, she’d tell me to leave, but she needs me too much to argue.

“Why did you send her to Nico’s restaurant?” Cass asks once Aisha leaves. “What if—”

“She’s stressing Mia out,” I say, staring at the little bundle of nerves toying with her gold rings. “You should tell her to fuck off every now and then.”

Another barely-there smile lifts the corners of her lips, and her cheeks heat as if in sync. “It’s easier to nod along.”

“You can’t let her walk all over you like that.”

She doesn’t reply, glancing at Cassidy and awaiting instructions. The shoot takes all but half an hour without Aisha’s comments and commandeering the entire session.

The first time I wrap my hand around Mia’s back, she shakes like a leaf on the wind, but after a few of my not-too-funny jokes, she calms down and lets me pull her in close.