“They took things the wrong way, and it got out of hand.” The whiny tone was probably designed to remind me how cute he was when he was bent over my knee, but all I felt listening to it was frustration.
“Bullshit. Why are you calling me, Ken?” If he’d called after everything had first happened, he might have been able to play me enough to convince me to take him back. Fortunately, I was smarter now.
“I miss you.” I could almost picture the pout he was trying to give me through the phone.
Another bullshit line. “Money’s all gone?”
“Roman.” He dragged out my name like he was exasperated with me.
It wasn’t going to work.
“Ken, I’m not sure what possessed you to blast my private business all over the goddamned internet, or why you thought anyone needed to know what we did in the privacy of our home, but I’m done. You burned this bridge.” He’d burned it the first time I’d had to explain to my mother why someone would want to be spanked.
By the third time, because shereallydidn’t get it, I’d never wanted to even hear his name again.
“I was drunk. I didn’t mean it.” His voice dropped quieter, and he tried to use a teasing sexy tone, but it went over flat on me. “I was bad and need my Dom to punish me. I’ll be good.”
“Don’t call me again. You ruined my business. You made it look like I was abusive. And I had to move cross-country to get away from it all. Don’t call me. Don’t even think of me. Find another sucker to steal from.” Maybe I should have been more upset about the explosion of my relationship, but at some point, I’d moved on.
“You said the money belonged to both of us.” The pout in his voice was starting to drive me crazy.
“Because you were trying to break into modeling and weren’t earning enough to pay for ramen noodles, much less help with bills or have fun. I was trying to be nice, not give you every dime I’d earned!” Taking several deep breaths to try to get my anger under control, I almost missed it when he started to speak.
“But I am a model. People loved my pictures. They want to use them in some kind of European ad. You said they couldn’t. Roman, they’re my pictures. You’re being mean to me.” Now it sounded more like he thought I was an irrational master who didn’t understand that I was being ridiculous.
“No, they’remyphotos that I took of you. I never signed any kind of release and still own the photos.” I’d spent days chasing every one I could down and getting them off the internet.
There were still a few floating around, but because I’d owned the rights, reputable news outlets had taken them down fairly quickly. The threat of a lawsuit had worked wonders, even though at that point there wasn’t money for rent, much less a high-powered lawyer.
But no matter how quickly I worked, it hadn’t been fast enough to keep my family from seeing them. As long as I could tell myself that he hadn’t been able to profit off of them, it somehow made it less maddening.
Ken sighed dramatically. “But Roman, I look so good in the pictures.”
“Tough shit. Don’t call me again and don’t try to use my pictures anywhere.” Then I did what I should’ve done when I first heard his voice—I ended the call.
Maybe I was a selfish ass, but he was never going to make a dime of profit off those pictures. I was going to go to my grave waving those damned photos in front of him, not destroying them, but still making sure he knew he’d never see them anywhere.
I’d had several people say that I should be the one making money on them. They thought I should sell them at an outrageous amount and use it to help me start over, but I wanted Ken to suffer more than I wanted money.
It was too bad they were such good pictures.
Erotic, but not porn; romantic, but with an edge that made you take a second look at them. Even I had to admit they were some of the best I’d done. It was really too bad they’d stay in my computer forever.
Trying not to let the growing frustration get to me, I finished setting my stuff down on the table and started browsing around for food. Past lunch but not quite dinner, it was a weird time to be eating, but I was starved. Eli’s drama had made what was supposed to have been a short shoot go on forever, completely throwing my day off.
Looking in the fridge, my options were almost nonexistent. It was either a freezer dinner or leftover Chinese food that had seen better days. Giving the lo mein a sniff and deciding it wasn’t too bad, I dumped it in a bowl and threw it in the microwave.
The rest of my afternoon and much of the evening were going to be spent editing photos and getting the new website updated. It was almost blank at the moment with no personality or good explanation about what kinds of pictures I took, but it was all my brain had been able to come up with.
Something was holding me back and until I figured out exactly what it was, I had a feeling my business wouldn’t be going anywhere.
****
Sorting through photos of a half-naked Eli was some kind of punishment. There was no other word for it. Editing was even worse. It was a weird kind of torture because each photo had to be analyzed, and there was no way to ignore the passion and fire coming from him—or the erection that filled and strained the panties.
I must’ve had a screw loose to take the job.
Watching a sexy brat parade around nearly naked just for attention wasnota real career path. Instead of tasteful photos like the other models tried to take, it was like some kind of live-action porn that I’d gotten dragged into photographing. The way his body moved and his hard cock filled the fabric made it impossible to maintain my distance.
