Mr. January – A Forbidden Romance Read Online S.E. Law

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
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After what feels like a million snaps of the shutter, Isaac looks up from his camera.

“Would you like to take that off?”

Randy looks down.

“What off?” he asks with confusion.

Isaac giggles a little.

“Your pants. Just to ratchet things up a bit. I didn’t get much direction from the Fire Department, so maybe they want to get racier. It’s happened in the past,” he adds in a solemn tone. “I did the Garnet Hills Firefighting Calendar a few years back, and they had a racier version where all the models were in their Speedos only. You want to give it a try?”

Randy stares at the old man, and then looks at me, nonplussed. I merely shrug.

“Um, sure,” my boyfriend stammers before undoing the waistband of his pants. Then, the heavy fabric drops to the ground, and he steps out, clad now only in his firefighting hat and the Speedos. His bulge is prominent, and my mouth waters looking at the stiffness there. Should I get him even more aroused? Or would that be inappropriate for the calendar?

Nonetheless, Isaac starts shooting again, and things get underway. Randy assumes a number of poses, and it’s sexy, I have to admit. Again, they’re going to make a ton of money from this calendar. But then, Isaac pauses once more, lowering his camera.

“You want to take that off too?” the old man gestures.

This time, my boyfriend’s eyes practically pop out of their sockets because the meaning is obvious.

“You mean, my Speedos?” he sputters. “Are you kidding me?”

Isaac just shrugs.

“You never know,” he says. “Up to you.”

Okay, that was a non-answer if I ever heard one, and Randy turns to look at me with questioning eyes. But I just give a slight nod. Why not? Obviously, these photos are for our personal enjoyment only, and I have to admit I’m interested in getting my hands on some X-rated snaps of my hunky boyfriend.

With that, Randy pulls his Speedos down, and immediately, that enormous shaft springs out. It’s flushed a deep purple and my mouth goes dry when I see how it gleams at the tip. Oh wow. These are going to be the best boudoir shots ever.

Then, Randy begins to pose totally nude. He’s huge and even though I’ve obviously enjoyed him many times in the past, I can’t seem to keep my eyes off the gorgeous man, mesmerized as he poses. The pictures that Isaac snaps will be amazing, I’m sure, but still, pictures don’t do this firefighter justice. The real thing is a thousand times better—which makes me feel even naughtier about this photoshoot.

My thighs squeeze together as Randy lifts one leg to put it on a box, and I see how his balls hang, already tight along his body. His eyes meet mine, those cobalt depths piercing, and I know he sees only me. He fists his shaft a bit, and a bead of pre-come pearls at the tip, making me moan. It takes all my self-control not to run over and lap up the liquid because I long for his taste on my tongue again. After all, this is my man. Another woman would be insecure being with such a perfect male specimen, but Randy’s instilled confidence in me. He makes me feel beautiful, intelligent, and most of all loved, and we’re happy together one hundred percent.

8

Sam

After the photoshoot finished, Randy had a quick wash up in the studio’s bathroom because all that oil can be gross. I understand that it looks good under the bright lights of the camera, but real life is different of course. Then, he got dressed and we left the studio, thanking Isaac for his time.

“Of course,” the old man chuckled. “I’ll send you some proofs for fun,” he winked.

Now, my boyfriend and I are at the Sunshine Café to relax and enjoy each other’s company. Like a silly fan girl, I babbled the whole way in the car about how great a model he is, much to my boyfriend’s amusement.

We grab hot chocolates and cheesecake, and then take seats at one of the only empty tables next to the window. This place is a decent size, and it’s packed full of people, but it’s still fairly quiet and has a peaceful, cozy vibe. The floors and table are reclaimed wood, and they’ve done the walls in a bright yellow for a nice touch of cheer. It sounds overwhelming but it’s not, surprisingly, and there are paintings of kittens and coffee mugs on the wall.

“Kitschy, huh?” my boyfriend asks, eyeing a painting of one particularly coy kitten batting a ball of string. “How is Calico by the way?”

“She’s good,” I say, sipping at my hot chocolate with a smile. “She says hi, and also says she’ll never forget how you saved her life.”

Randy smirks.

“Well, let’s just say I want her owner to make it up to me. Over and over again,” he growls, waggling his brows.


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