Sweet Abduction by Sasha Gold Page A

someone asks.
    “Half a moment.”
    I huff out a sigh and step back into the dressing room. I tug the underwear off and set them aside. “I really liked those.”
    Vera chuckles. “You can take whatever you want home.”
    “Can she have the dress too?” Charlotte asks. “I’m her agent by the way.”
    Vera doesn’t even blink. “Of course. Anything she wants.”
    Charlotte gives me a self-satisfied smile and I’m struck by the reversal of roles. Usually, it’s me running after her taking care of details. She rubs her hands together and starts looking around the dressing room as if she wants to snag a few other things for me. Her pilfering is cut short by the director’s angry words coming down the hallway.
    “Good grief,” Charlotte mutters. “Who does that guy think he is? Spielberg?”
    Vera ushers us out the door. “This is actually one of his better shoots. He tries to behave when he’s working with Mr. Tarrant.”
    I return to the set, starkly aware of people staring.
    Riley gives nothing away with his expression. I can’t tell if he thinks it’s too much or if he likes what he sees. And why I care what he thinks is beyond me. He has the usual unreadable and unreachable look. Saying nothing, he holds out his hand, offering it to me. I take it and shudder with pleasure at the first time he’s touched me in what feels like ages. The first time since we left the restaurant.
    We cross the set and he sits down and pats his knee. Some of the male members of the crew laugh.
    “I don’t want to sit on your lap, Riley.” I speak softly so only he can hear and I do my best to give him an imploring look.
    He smirks. “You have to do whatever I say.”
    “I don’t have panties on. This skirt is short and I don’t want to flash a bunch of photographers. Don’t make me do this.”
    His eyes glint and I wonder if it’s because he likes having me at his mercy. If he wanted to humiliate me this would be the perfect opportunity.
    “All right, Leah.”
    He stands up and motions for someone to take the chair away. The lights are bright and I can’t see the director or many of crew members. I can feel Charlotte’s attention on us. I know her. She’s riveted and loving every minute of the drama.
    The director rattles something off in Italian. His assistant translates. “Mr. Tarrant, could you please put your arms around her.”
    “My pleasure,” Riley says.
    Ha. Liar. He sets his hands on my waist and I focus very intently on a point on his suit jacket. I’m praying this isn’t one of those shoots that lasts hours. On the other hand, I’m grateful they’re photographing the back of my head. I picture the image in my mind, but then wonder if they’ll take a full body shot. In that case, my backside is going to be pretty prominent because this dress is saran-wrapped over my ass.
    “Oh come on, Riley. You look like you’re hugging your granny,” Charlotte shouts.
    “That’s Charlotte,” I whisper. “It’s fine. Just ignore her, she just-” My words are cut off when he pulls me hard against his chest.” A huff of air is knocked out of me. He’s holding me tightly against him, his leg wedged intimately between mine.
    “Attaway.” Charlotte cheers.
    I can hear a flurry of Italian from the director and his assistants. They’re debating something or another but the cameramen aren’t waiting for orders. The two of them prowl around snapping pictures.
    “Can we get a little ass-grab?” yells Charlotte.
    A ripple of laughter moves across the crew.
    “Porca miseria,” mutters the director.
    Riley glides his hand down my waist, slowly and deliberately. I draw a sharp breath. Under any other circumstances, if a guy was making a move like this, I’d smack him or at least try to escape his attention, but I’m bound by my agreement and I feel the weight of expectation. I have to play the part. His hand moves lower to my ass and he cups me with his hand. I’m stunned into silence, but when he shifts