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TATE
The driver picked us up and drove us to Giovanni’s property in the hills of Tuscany. His home was rustic yet elegantly poised on the hill, surrounded by sprawling green acres and its own vineyard where I knew he produced his own wine.
“Whoa,” Wren whispered as we pulled up to the estate. “It’s breathtaking.” Her nose was pressed to the glass window as she took everything in.
The driver stopped in front of the steps leading to the large arched front door and climbed out. Giovanni stood at the top of the stairs with his hands behind his back, dressed in his signature all-white suit.
The driver opened my door before moving around to Wren’s side and holding out a hand to help her out. She smiled her thanks and stared up at Giovanni. I came to stand beside her and placed my hand on her back. “You ready?” I asked.
Her back straightened, lips spread into a wide, confident smile as she whispered, “Yes.”
We walked up the steps together to Giovanni who reached a hand forward for me to shake.
“Tate, so good to see you. Welcome to my home,” he said, his Italian accent thick and his teeth blindingly white when he smiled. “And this must be Wren.” He turned to Wren and grasped her hand in his before leaning in and pressing a kiss to both her cheeks.
“You must be something special, bella, for Tate to demand you in his contract.” Giovanni’s smile was easy and carefree as he linked his arm with Wren’s and said, “Come.”
He led us through his home to the back where he had a studio set up beyond the pool. His photographer was inside waiting. So was his stylist with a rack of clothes and a makeup artist. The room was bare. White walls. White marble floor. And there was a large white curtain hanging in the center that divided the room. Beyond the curtain was what I assumed would be the sets for the photoshoot; Wren’s artwork, and whatever other props Giovanni wanted.
He waltzed into the room like the king that he was and snapped his fingers, mumbling something in Italian and gesturing to Wren. The makeup artist, and stylist sprang into action, rushing around before disappearing.
Wren gave me a wide-eyed glance as if asking whether I knew what was going on. I shrugged. I didn’t have the faintest clue what that was about.
Giovanni called to his assistant and she promptly poured three coffees and brought them over to us.
“You my dear,” Giovanni placed a hand on Wren’s cheek, “Are magnifico. I wonder, would you do me the honor of wearing a few of my pieces?”
Wren’s jaw dropped open and her cheeks tinged pink. “Me?”
“Si.”
“Oh, umm... I’m flattered but,” she looked down at herself and gave a sad smile, “I don’t think your designs would fit me.”
My stomach dropped. For the first time since I’d known her, she looked disappointed with her appearance. Which was total bullshit. She was fucking perfect the way she was.
Giovanni waved her concerns away. “Nonsense. I have a new line for real women with real figures. And you, bella, are perfect.”
His stylist returned then with a rack of women’s clothes and placed it beside the clothes I’d be wearing, and we were taken off to the side where he had a small beauty studio set up before Wren had a chance to respond.
The makeup artist ushered me to one bed and Wren to the other before placing a divider between the two beds.
“Strip,” she said with her strong accent.
“Excuse me?” Wren gasped, and I chuckled before removing my jeans and shirt. I’d been through this enough times to know what was expected, particularly from someone as prominent as Giovanni. He had clauses in his contracts that gave him full control over hair, make-up, and personal grooming. I’d read the contract and it stated very specifically that everything would be taken care of the day of the shoot.
“Strip,” the makeup artist repeated again.
“Shouldn’t you buy me dinner first?” Wren asked. “Or maybe tell me your name at least.”
I barked out a laugh.
“She’s a funny one.” Giovanni chuckled. “This is Innes. She doesn’t speak much English, so you’ll have to forgive her, caro.”
Wren sighed, and I heard the rustling of her clothes as she stripped too.
We received the full treatment. We were primped and preened, waxed and plucked until everything was perfect in Giovanni’s eyes.
“Oh my gosh. You do this for a living?” Wren’s voice called from the bed on the other side of the divider. “Ahh,” she screamed before I could answer. She hissed out a breath and panted, “I think you just ripped my vagina off.”
I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing, suddenly grateful I was a male and only needed to make sure my chest was smooth. That was until Luciana, Innes’s helper, pointed to my boxer shorts and signaled for me to drop them.
I shook my head. She nodded.
I broke out into a cold sweat. Guessed that’s what I got for finding Wren’s discomfort amusing.
Maybe she’d just tidy things up. That I could handle. That I’d done before when I modeled for an underwear company. I closed my eyes because I couldn’t watch.
“Wren,” I choked out, barely able to talk. “Tell me a story.”
“Kind of busy over here being mutilated,” she bit out.
“And I’m about to be. Come on, I need a distraction. Right now.” I peeled open my eyes. Luciana stood beside me stirring the wax pot. Shit. “Please.”
“What do I get out of it?” Wren called thoughtfully.
“Anything you want. Just distract me.” I squeezed my eyes shut again and covered my junk with my hands as if that’d stop the sadist from torturing me.
Wren was silent. Luciana had stopped moving beside me. Yet I was too afraid to open my eyes. I held my breath and waited. Why was nothing happening? Had they decided not to go through with it? Material—a towel, maybe—was draped over my hips and I flinched on instinct thinking it would be hot wax.
The scent of strawberries and coconut filled my nose. Wren? And warm hands cupped my face before her soft lips captured mine. Her breath was hot as her fingers slid into my hair, pulling and tugging on the strands. My hands found her waist through the silky robe she was wearing and pulled her as close as I could without physically dragging her on top of me.
She was the perfect distraction.
I barely noticed when Luciana removed the towel from my waist. Didn’t even flinch when she covered my junk in hot wax. All I could focus on was Wren’s taste and how desperately I wanted to slip my hands inside her robe, and then...
“Motherfucker!” I tore my mouth away from Wren and screamed. “Jesus fucking Christ!”
Not even Wren’s perfect mouth and sweet taste was enough to distract me from the fact my balls had just ripped from my body. I sucked in a breath and grit my teeth as the sadist spread more wax.
“God no.” I cringed, and Wren laughed softly. I opened my eyes and was pleasantly surprised to find her hovering over me, smiling. I wrapped a hand around the back of her and pulled her down to me while Luciana continued extracting my manhood from my body one strip at a time.