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Beautiful Boy
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Beautiful Boy
Leddy Harper
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Epilogue
“Balance” sneak peek
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Leddy Harper
Copyright © 2016 by Leddy Harper
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Edited by: Josie Cruz
Contributed by: Abby P. Cook
ISBN: 978-1-4951-9918-9
For Abby…couldn’t have done this one without you!
Prologue
December 2000
A massive iron gate blocked his driveway from the road, and I stood in front of it, completely awestruck as I waited for it to open. I knew Nolan Richards had money, but this went beyond any amount I could have ever imagined. It seemed too much…too flashy. And I made a promise to myself right then and there—if I ever possessed as much money as the Richards, I would never flaunt it the way they did.
The thought was so ridiculous it made me laugh. No way would I ever have as much money as the Richards. Nolan’s father, Douglas Richards, was a US Senator, and if you believed the rumors, he aspired to put his name in the hat for the next presidential race. The man had more money than God. More power, too.
The gate slowly opened and I walked through, waving to my mom as she drove away. I silently questioned myself again as to why I had agreed to come here. It wasn’t like Nolan and I were friends. Quite the opposite, actually. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he didn’t even know my name. But when Mr. Connolly paired us together for a project in our photography class, Nolan suggested I come to his house. Taking in the intimidating monstrosity before me, it was now a decision I regretted.
I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and moved forward. My heart thundered in my chest, beating erratically against my ribcage. In minutes, I’d be up close and personal with the hottest guy in school, in his house, alone.
The large, wooden front door opened, and there stood the heartthrob of Jacobson High, Nolan Richards. My mouth went dry as I took him in. He leaned against the doorframe, sans shirt and only a pair of jeans slung low on his hips. His brown hair was mused and his eyes lingered on me. The way his gaze appraised me left my body prickling with excitement and fear.
“Ready to get started, Novah?” His deep voice echoed through the marbled entryway outside the front door. It bounced off the stone around him and enveloped me like a blanket, cocooning me in its warmth.
I walked closer to him, hoping my shaky legs weren’t evident with every step I took. “What do you have in mind?” I immediately regretted the question, knowing it made me sound pathetic.
But it’s exactly what I was—pathetic.
Invisible.
He smiled and the brilliance of it blinded me, clearing any useful thought from my brain. “Well, we’re supposed to find the beauty in something. I figured we’d start in the back yard. My mom has lots of plants and flowers. I’m sure there are butterflies or birds or some other kind of shit back there we could make pretty on film.”
I hiked my camera bag higher on my shoulder and followed him inside. My breath caught in my throat as I glanced around. I had never seen anything like it. Elaborate marble covered the floor, ornate mirrors and pictures lined the walls, and expensive-looking furniture filled the rooms. The crisp white couches and chairs seemed to have the sole purpose of decoration, and I bet not one person had ever sat on any of them. Chandeliers and fancy light fixtures hung above me, giving the space a soft glow, despite the natural afternoon sun shining in through the windows. The light hit the crystal chandeliers perfectly, making them glitter across the room like thousands of exquisitely crafted rainbows.
“Did you want anything to drink before we get started? I’m not sure what all we have, but I know we do have Coke.” His words interrupted my gawking and I shook my head, too nervous to drink anything in front of him.
Maybe I had judged Nolan wrong. Yes, he was popular, had the cheerleaders hanging all over him, seemed cocky in his better-than-thou swagger as he strutted up and down the halls at school, but right now, in front of me, he seemed nice. Genuine. Not at all like the asshole I had pegged him to be.
“Okay, well, my camera is already on the patio waiting. I’m ready when you are,” he said, leading me to the back door.
I placed my bag on a table outside and pulled out my own camera. It was nothing fancy, but it did the trick. I had saved up money for an entire year to buy it, and it was my most prized possession. However, it was inferior to the professional SLR Nolan had casually draped around his neck. I guess it hadn’t been a bad thing that Mr. Connolly had chosen him to be my partner. If one good thing came from this, at least it would be a decent grade.
I have to admit, ever since making plans to go to his house, I had thought I’d be the one doing all the work. I’d assumed he would sit back and let me do everything. Most class projects usually worked out like that for me, especially when paired with a self-entitled jock who only needed a half-good grade to pass the class.
I had been wrong.
He took as many pictures as I did, sometimes even directing me when I’d been lined up for a perfect shot. And when I’d throw out an idea, he didn’t argue.
Definitely not what I had imagined.
He sat behind me on the grass, legs on either side of mine, and rested his chin on my shoulder, whispering direction into my ear as I focused my lens on a dragonfly landing on a fully opened red flower. Except, I couldn’t focus my attention for shit. His hands distracted my every thought as he softly held on to my waist, flexing his fingertips into my sides every so often. I was sure the pictures would come out blurry, but I didn’t care.
Nolan Richards’s hands were on me.
I couldn’t care about anything else at the moment.
“I never pegged you as a pictures kinda guy,” I said to him as we packed up our cameras and equipment. Butterflies battered my stomach at the thought of saying goodbye to him.
The sun had started to descend as the warm colors stretched out across the sky, indicating the end of our time together. The idea of having to leave him filled me with unexpected anguish.
Nolan ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the dark locks away from his forehead. His mouth twisted into a lopsided smile, which made my breathing halt.
“What kinda guy did you peg me to be?”
I shrugged, hoping it came across as nonchalant. “I don’t know. Jock. Rich. Typical high school senior.” I needed to shut up before I offended him and embarrassed myself.
His grin faded, but then he reached out and touched my face. The soft pad of his thumb skimmed slowly down my cheek to my jaw before pulling away, leaving behind a burning trail in its wake. “Mr. Connolly wanted us to capture something we believed to be beautiful, so why didn’t we take pictures of you?”
I knew I wasn’t an ugly girl. I may not have been the prom queen or a runway model, but I wasn’t ugly. I had dark-blond hair, eyes a unique shade of aqua, and a figure most girls would die for. But I had never been about physical appearance. “Real beauty lay on the inside” had always been my philosophy. And because of my beliefs, I did without makeup or trendy clothes to enhance my appearance. I kept to myself at school and only hung out with the few people I considered friends. I was simply a quiet girl. Shy. So his words had caught me off guard. Stunned me.
“Why? I don’t understand,” I asked breathlessly, fearing my nerves would betray me and leave my voice quaking if I spoke louder.
His smile returned as he shook his head. His hair flopped back to his forehead when he looked to his feet. Was he shy, too? Maybe I’d misjudged him. Maybe the attitude he portrayed at school and on the field had been nothing but a front to mask his own insecurities.
“You’re beautiful, Novah. Fucking sexiest girl I’ve ever seen.” His gaze shifted around the room, avoiding mine as he nervously scratched his bare chest.
“I didn’t think you even knew who I was.”
Nolan snapped his attention back to me. His greenish-brown eyes pierced mine and his dark brows furrowed. “I’ve noticed you since the first day of school. I’ve never said anything because I was scared to talk to you. You’re always so quiet and you keep to yourself. But now you’re here, in my house, and I…”
I waited for him to continue, but he never did. He only stared at me with wide eyes and a stiff expression, causing me to stand frozen in place. It was as if I were under his spell, which made me unable to look away. “You what, Nolan?” I was pleased with how my tone sounded composed, instead of shaky like how I was on the inside.
“I want to take your picture.” He moved one step closer. “Let me take your picture, Novah. Please.” His plea came off desperate, as if he couldn’t bear it if I said no. His imploring gaze held mine while he waited for my answer, neither of us breathing.
A verbal response wouldn’t form; I could only nod. In a rush, he pulled out his camera and tripod. He set it up next to the table in the kitchen, closed the blinds to the window behind me, and dimmed the lights above. Everything happened so fast I thought I’d dreamt it all. Then he gently pushed me onto the table until my back became flush with the glass.
After he moved my arms and face to where he wanted them, he peered into the viewfinder. He adjusted the focus on the lens, and then came back to my side. “Look at me.”
Once I nervously turned my attention to him, the flash went off, temporarily blinding me. He maneuvered around the table, making me follow him with my eyes everywhere he went. With each step, the shutter clicked and the flash exploded around me. In a cascade of white stars, I became engrossed in his movements and the glimmer of fireworks left in my eyes from the camera’s light.
I never wanted the moment to end.
In an instant, his lips were on mine. Light flickered beyond my closed eyelids, but I wasn’t sure if it had been the camera or the effects of his kiss.
Warm, soft lips melted into mine until they had coaxed my mouth open, and then he gently pushed his tongue in. Bright spots continued to dance as soft, gentle kisses turned fevered, rushed, hungry. His hands roamed from my face down my neck, to my collarbone, to my breasts, to my bellybutton. A trail of heat blazed through the slight chill on my chest, and I quickly realized my shirt had become unbuttoned, exposing my plain white bra.
I started to panic, to object out of fear, but then his lips met my skin right above my jeans. Body parts buzzed and zinged with a tight pressure, aching and throbbing. I had never been touched there. I’d promised myself that when it would happen, it would be with someone I loved. But at the moment, I only cared about having the ache eased, having the burning need met.
So I didn’t object. Not when our eyes met, or when his fingers released the button on my pants, or even when he slid my jeans down my thighs. I didn’t stop him when he hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of my cotton panties, or when he tugged them away. And when his tongue finally met the ever-increasing ache, I couldn’t do anything other than throw my head back and moan as new sensations flooded my system.
Fire burned inside me, and then everything around me exploded. Regret or logic never entered my mind. Consequences be damned. All I cared about was the release Nolan Richards had given me. The kind of release no one had ever given me before. And I couldn’t wait until we returned to school so I could see him again, replaying our little secret in my mind every time I’d see him in the halls.
Yeah…consequences be damned.
One
Fifteen years later…
“We need more oil,” I called out to my assistant as I flipped through the digital images on the camera in front of me. The shoot had been going well, but there were still a few more shots I needed to acquire before calling it quits. And in order for the lights to appropriately pick up the angles, I needed more shimmer on his body.
Shari came over with a bottle of body oil and began rubbing it on the model’s insanely ripped chest.
“Not too much, Share…I want him to glisten, not look like he has a sweat problem,” I said without taking my eyes away from the images on the small screen in my hands.
Silence met me, which was odd considering Shari never kept her opinions to herself. I peered over my camera and caught her expression—it silently said, “I know what I’m doing.” My smirk formed automatically. She did know what she was doing. Shari had been my best friend since high school, and when my photography business took off, there wasn’t a single person I wanted by my side other than her. And she never complained about oiling the models for me. I could’ve done it myself, but it had been a perk Shari enjoyed—one I graciously let her keep.
Once he’d been oiled to the light’s liking, I moved in closer and got down on my knees at his level. Bronson, the male model in front of me, lay on his back in the middle of my studio in nothing but a pair of black boxer-briefs. I straddled one of his legs and aimed low, needing the perfect angle for this shot.
My studio had made a name for itself in our area from the boudoir shoots I’d done. Taking pictures of half-naked people had never been my goal, but after one impulsive spread I did for a local magazine, everyone in town had heard of me. Before I could even blink, aspiring models and small marketing companies sought me out for hire. I couldn’t complain…it paid the bills, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy doing it.
Bronson had come to me hoping my distinctive ability could give him something impressive to offer the agents he wanted to acquire. I thought headshots would be enough, but for whatever reason, models these days felt they needed to strip down in order to find work.
I took about twenty more pictures before climbing off his body and calling it a day. I tossed him a towel, more so he could cover his raging erection, but he used it to wipe off the oil from his chest with a grin. I guess he didn’t mind having his excitement on display. If Bronson had no qualms about being nearly naked and erect in front of a couple of strangers, then neither did I.
I thanked my client, escorted him out of the studio, and locked the door behind him. It was late, so Shari and I had to hurry and get the space cleaned up. We were both starved from a day-long session and in desperate need of nourishment, which typically came from a bottle of wine and takeout.
“Your house or mine?” Shari grabbed her purse and headed for the door once we had everything put away.
I followed behind her, ready to lock up once we were out. “Mine is fine. I have Pinot in the fridge and your favorite Tai place is on the way. How does getting hammered and staying the night sound? We can talk shit about boys and their asshole ways?” We normally didn’t sleep over at each other’s houses, but her boyfriend had broken up with her a few weeks ago, and even though she tried to act tough, I knew she needed my support.
“Only if you let me watch whatever movie I want. I can’t tak
e a sappy romance tonight. I want to see blood and guts spewed all over. I need to experience something horrific.”
My eyes rolled dramatically as I shook my head and laughed at my friend. “Sure. Whatever you want, Share. But if I fall asleep in the middle of it, you can’t hate me.” She knew I despised those kinds of movies, especially the war ones. Those were her favorites, and every time a new one came out, she’d go on and on about how I needed to see it. But I had no desire to watch movies about war. Nothing about watching soldiers die did anything for me. But since she was my best friend, and going through a hard time, I gave in and let her have her way.
Bitch knew I couldn’t tell her no. After all, she had been there for me countless times. She’d listened patiently while I’d complained and ranted over the same thing time and time again.
After dinner, and on our third glass of wine, I decided to get out my computer. I had made it through half the movie but couldn’t take any more carnage. I needed a distraction and wanted to start editing the photos from earlier, but disappointment plagued me once I realized I’d left the SD card back at the studio. With nothing else to do, I scanned my email, going through hundreds of spam and deleting them. It had been an overdue task I ignored on a daily basis. Nothing like a gory movie to make me do it, though.
Four emails in and my heart stilled in my chest. Fighting through the memories of my past, I opened it, only to see what he wanted and why he would email me after fifteen long years.
* * *
From: Nolan Richards
To: Novah Johnson
Subject: Your profession…
Ms. Johnson,
I see you’re doing very well with your business. However, I can’t help but think of the hateful words you and your family used when describing my actions after I had done the very same thing you now profit from. I only want to know what you have to say for yourself.