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echenique · 7 years

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Day 2 is my wandering day. I will cruise up and down the aisles seeing what there is to see.

The Big Three

Canon, Nikon and Sony booths dominated the entrance of the show. As always, their booths are over the top. Sony had the spot usually held by Nikon, a sign of our changing times.

Canon didn’t have any major announcements other than Same Day Turnaround for Canon Professional Services Platinum Members (membership involves owning a really large harem of Canon gear and making most of your money from photography).

Nikon had the new D850 on display, an evolutionary step up from the D810. No word at all about pro-level mirrorless cameras from either Canon or Nikon. To date, their mirrorless offerings have been more for lip service. This is not to say that they are bad cameras, they just aren’t being marketed very heavily by either company.

I spoke to a pro sports photographer who used a Nikon J camera to cover the US Open a couple of years ago and at the end, when Serena Williams was holding the trophy and leaping into the air, his was the only camera that caught her signature leap holding the trophy in it’s entirety.

Sony is all about mirrorless and they had the newly announced A7rIII and A9 on display long with all of their video equipment and vast stable of lenses.

Sony A9

Sony A7rIII

Olympus and Panasonic

No new cameras from either of these companies. Panasonic was promoting the Lumix GH5 heavily. A longtime favorite of videographers, Panasonic’s latest and greatest sports 4K 60p/50p 4:2:2/10-bit video recording, and all of the ports needed for professionals. Olympus introduced two new pro lenses (which I mentioned on my Day 0 report): the M.Zuiko 17mm f/1.2 PRO and the M.Zuiko 45mm f/1.2 PRO. These join their older sibling, the M.Zuiko 25mm f/1.2 PRO.

I got some hands-on time with the 45mm f/1.2 and the lens is incredibly well-built (and it better be for $1299), weather sealed and sharp with beautiful bokeh. As usual at trade shows, models were present to allow you to photograph someone far better looking than the hairy dude standing next to you.

Steampunk model photographed with Olympus M.Zuiko 45mm f/1.2 lens wide open

Granted, the distance between the model and myself did not allow the lens bokeh to really shine through, but I assure you the hairy dude photos had really creamy bokeh (before he made me delete them – go figure).

The One Percenters

Everything that sells ultimately develops luxury brands and cameras are no exceptions. Alpa, Arca Swiss, Cambo, Hasselblad and Phase One all made their presence felt at the show. Oddly missing for the first time in years is Leica. I guess they were too busy schmoozing Russian oligarchs to attend Not-Photokina.

Cambo is company from the Netherlands that made film view and technical cameras for many years. The digital revolution came and they wisely realized that their strengths lay in analog photographic gear. They adapted their view and technical cameras to work with other peoples cameras, adding value without having to make the massive investment of developing sensor technologies of their own. very pragmatic, very Dutch.

Cambo Actus Mini X1D

Cambo CA-XCD Canon Lens adapter for Hasselblad X1D

Cambo Actus Mini GFX

Alpa and Arca Swiss were represented at vendor booths that hosted Phase One as well. Phase One dominated the booth with their IQ3 100MP Trichromatic camera system. This 100MPx bad boy will set you back the cost of a BMW ($49,990), but produces color and sharpness matched by very few others (and that is more splitting hairs than anything else).

All hail the King, baby! The Phase One Trichromatic system. $49,990!

Hasselblad had a booth of their own and while no new cameras were announced, a new firmware was released for the H6D and X1D medium format cameras. Hasselblad has started to play Fuji’s game of adding new features to their cameras via firmware updates. Touch AF has been implemented in both cameras now and it works very well. Previous firmware updates added electronic shutter release which removes the X1D’s inability to support adapted non-leaf shutter lenses. Also on hand was the recently announced 120mm f/4 Macro Lens. The lens resolves an amazing amount of detail.

Hasselblad X1D 4116 + 120mm f/4 macro lens

The Black 4116 X1D is now available body only for about $300 more than the silver body. If anyone wants help a guy out getting one of these, I humbly accept donations.

A Place For Your Stuff (I miss George Carlin)

Storage is always an issue for photographers in the digital age. We have enterprise-class needs and homeless person budgets. This often leads to poor decisions. Storage vendors are always striving to lower the cost of entry and this year’s showing is no exception. I saw Drobo, LaCie, QNAP and WD with booths at the show.

Drobo did not have any new products other than those that were announced at the beginning of the year at CES. Drobo is by far the easiest storage system to use as it does not require symmetric drive sizes and makes upsizing your storage array a trivial affair. A new feature being heavily promoted is their disaster recovery feature which allows you to synchronize two geographically disparate Drobos securely over the internet in case the worst happens. For free. Take that cloud storage!

Drobo 5N2

LaCie was there as well showing off their latest Thunderbolt 3 direct attached storage devices. With Thunderbolt becoming more common on PC motherboards (they used to be only found on Macs), LaCie’s high performance drive systems are seeing quite an uptick in use.

LaCie 12big Thunderbolt 3

LaCie 2big Dock Thunderbolt 3

The 2big Dock Thunderbolt 3 ranges is size from 8-20 TB (raw storage) and also includes an SD/CF card reader. Connectivity is TB 3/USB 3.1 and also includes a SuperSpeed USB 3.1 Type-A connection in front for transfers from external drives and laptops.

QNAP introduced a new 4-bay storage unit aimed squarely at photographers featuring Thunderbolt 3, 10GBe, m.2 SSD caching, among many other features. Dubbed the TS-453BT3, it is priced at $999.00

QNAP TS-453BT3 NAS

Other goodies

Newcomer Illuminati Instruments had introduced their Illuminati Wireless Light & Color Meter. This device uses your smartphone as its display. It is also at a price point that will make it affordable to all photographers. It should be available in the next month or so.

Illuminati Wireless Light Meter + Colorimeter

Benq has updated their professional line of displays with two models aimed squarely at photographers. The newly introduced SW271 is a 27″ 4K display with 100% Adobe RGB color space, 10-bit color, and HDR display modes. A wired “hockey puck” control allows users to manipulate the on screen display regardless of screen position. The monitor can be set in several modes including Adobe RGB, sRGB, Black & White, and HDR.

Benq SW271 Professional Monitor

Well that covers it for this year’s show. Please feel free to leave comments and sharing of these articles are always encouraged.

Photo Plus 2017 – Day 2 and Wrap Up Day 2 is my wandering day. I will cruise up and down the aisles seeing what there is to see.

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zillowcondo · 7 years

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On The Hotlist: Top September Events, Dining, Style & Travel

Hands up whoever is hoping for an Indian Summer! I for one am not ready to let go of the warm weather just yet. This month is a great time to check out new places as the crowds thin out, so we’ve come up with our picks for the best September events, dining, style and travel.

September Events

Zurich will be hosting their 7th Street Food Festival from 7-17 September, and with over 150 food sellers ranging from chocolates to ceviche, dumplings and tacos, there’s something to suit everyone.

The Leica Oskar Barnack Award (LOBA) is one of the most iconic international photography competitions. The winners have recently been chosen and members of the public will be able to view the works of the finalists and winners from 14 September to 15 October in Berlin at the Neue Schule für Fotografie.

London Fashion Week will be taking place from 15-19 September and as I’ll be at both the events above I’ll be missing most of the action including the Aspinal of London presentation which promises to be brilliant. Members of the public can buy tickets to London Fashion Week Festival which takes place from 21-24 September and is a lot of fun!

Style Picks

Continuing the fashion theme, I wanted to share a really great day out that I went on recently. The Landmark London is one of my favourite London hotels, with its stunning Winter Garden complete with palm trees. They’re capitalizing on their handy location near to Marylebone station to offer a Shop ‘Till You Drop Spa and Shopping package with Bicester Village. The designer outlet in Oxfordshire can be reached directly from Marylebone station in less than an hour. The package includes breakfast in the beautiful Winter Garden, direct return train tickets, a 10% discount VIP card for Bicester Village, exclusive complimentary hands-free shopping, access to the VIP lounge, and once back in London a cocktail, glass of champagne or soft drink at the Landmark followed by a candlelight massage and access to the spa and gym. It would make a great gift for a loved one at only £175 per person, though I wouldn’t blame you if you self-gift! Bicester Village is expanding to include even more luxury stores and has been beautifully decorated by acclaimed florist Nikki Tibbles. There are quotes by Shakespeare dotted around, as well as Liberty print phone boxes for that all important selfie and a very tasty lunch spot, Farmshop, which is part of the Soho House group.

In the hope of a never ending Summer, we created a late Summer beach trip packing list and gave our tips on how to beautify your home with tropical decor. However, if your skin is feeling the Summer heat, then we’ve got two suggestions for you. Firstly, Lumaesthetic is a London clinic specializing in the natural-looking enhancement of your features. They’re plastic surgery doctors who also work in the NHS and I recently tried their non-surgical facial with Dr Dominic Yue. I was very impressed by the results – my skin was smoother and more hydrated afterwards. I was able to forgo foundation for the photo below, taken the next day. The effects get better after a day or two when the skin has had a chance to settle down and it feels like your face is illuminated from within. Lumaesthetic can also prescribe you clinically proven skincare that’s really affordable, so I’m looking forward to seeing the long-term effects from that. As a treat for readers, if you mention “Luxury Columnist” when booking a treatment at Lumaesthetic, you’ll get 20% off for a limited time only!

I was recently sent a bottle of Institut Esthederm City Protect Spray to try and am loving the hydrating effect as well as the stylish gold packaging. It’s designed to combat pollution and photo-ageing, thanks to its Cellular Water Patent. Seeing as I live right in the City, it’s coming in very handy indeed.

If you’re a fan of designer handbags but not such a fan of the crazy price tags, then you’ll love Bagista. They’re specialists in pre-loved luxury handbags and accessories yet you’d never guess that the items weren’t brand new, they’re in such great condition. They’ve opened a pop-up store at 227 Kings Road, Chelsea, in collaboration with other luxury brands such as Sweetpea & Willow luxury furniture designers, Chelsea Prints, Astrid & Miyu unique jewellery and Maverick & Wolf designer eyewear. I popped along to the launch where I feasted on sweet treats made by the lovely Cupcake King but I’ll definitely be returning to browse their beautifully curated pieces.

This month I was fortunate to be a guest on She Builds Brands, the international radio show hosted every Saturday on Channel Radio by brand expert Kubi Springer. I’d definitely recommend a listen to her upcoming shows or New York City Business Weekender event in November if you’re interested in marketing.

Sometimes you come across an idea so clever that you wonder why no one thought of it before. The clever folks at MyHeritage have come up with a DNA Testing Kit that will reveal your ethnic origins. They’re a leading source of information on family history and their technology enables users to find matches with other users and to expand the details of their family tree. For the DNA kit, its simplicity itself – you order it online, then do a cheek swab which you place in the vial provided and send back for analysis. Now I just have to wait patiently for the results, can’t wait to share them with you!

Travel Tales

The Cotswolds is one of Britain’s most charming areas, with its golden coloured cottages and quaint village pubs. September is a lovely time to visit, when it’s normally gorgeous weather. We headed up there a few weeks ago to visit my sister and her family, including her triplets who have all just got into university – proud Auntie alert! While we weren’t so lucky with the weather, we hardly noticed the downpour thanks to our cosy home from home. Bruern Cottages are a collection of luxury cottages, nestled in the grounds of Bruern Abbey. Only an hour away from London, they’re also close to Daylesford Organic Farm and Bicester Village. We’ll be writing about our stay in detail but here’s a teaser, the beautiful bedroom in our cottage.

This is also a great season to visit Ibiza, as the majority of partygoers have left and you can explore the island’s hidden gems in peace.

For a UK vacation, Bournemouth has one of the most beautiful beaches as well as RockReef PierZip, the world’s only pier to shore zip wire. I tried it and loved it!

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Wining and Dining

Wondering where to eat in September? We’ve got lots of suggestions on seasonal menus and the hottest new restaurants, starting with Mac and Wild. This Fitzrovia stalwart is famous for its Scottish cooking and has over 200 whiskies, craft beers, gins as well as their own range of Scottish cocktails. We recently tried the Summer Menu including a hearty roast with succulent beef and Yorkshire pudding, their award-winning Venimoo venison burger and moriesh Broke Millionaire’s Shortbread.

The Baglioni Hotel in Kensington is another London classic, and I’m a fan of their Italian afternoon tea. They have recently restyled their restaurant to give it a contemporary Italian feel. Brunello at The Baglioni has a new Italian executive chef, Alberto Rossetti. As you can see, the food is a delight, being light yet exceptionally tasty.

To dine in what is arguably the prettiest restaurant in London, head to Bronte. It has been designed by Tom Dixon and has cosy green leather booths, dusty pink chairs, and a pewter bar. There are great views of Trafalgar Square from the leafy terrace. Despite the stylish feel, it’s a very relaxed eatery that’s open all day, serving up modern British and Asian food. Chefs Andrew Lassetter and Guy Betteridge are highly skilled, with every dish being flawless. From the flavourful chilli salt squid to the accomplished lobster tempura and superb miso black cod, there is real passion here. Even the side dishes are interesting – a bowl of 7 types of heritage tomato and another of grilled green courgettes enlivened with black sesame tahini & truffle. You’ll want to save room for desserts like the chocolate bomb with cherry sorbet and hazlenut praline and the pineapple carpaccio with lime and coconut sorbet. There’s also a separate bar menu which sounds tempting, with breakfast dishes, bao buns and the Bronte burger…

For a relaxing meal in Marylebone, you can’t beat Bernardi’s. This neighbourhood Italian restaurant on Seymour Street is open all day for brunch, lunch or dinner and you don’t need to reserve in advance unless you’re a large group. Although the attention to detail is superb, the food isn’t at all fussy, just healthy and delicious. The newly opened basement cocktail bar, The Dog House looks like fun too! We recommend the heritage tomato salad, the rump of Spring lamb and their incredible desserts.

The capital has a stunning new hotel in the shape of The LaLiT London, set in a former school. This atmospheric boutique hotel combines British charm with Indian culture to great effect and has retained many original features. I recently attended their Indian Independence Day dinner, with live music from famous sitar players. Baluchi restaurant is located in the Grade II listed former Assembly Hall and is without a doubt one of the best places in London to experience Indian cuisine. Admire the blue glass Indian chandeliers whilst you feast on organic dishes created by Executive Chef Arup Dasgupta. With delights such as rassam soup, tender monkfish tikka, butter chicken and a delicate Gulab Jamun cheesecake on the menu, you won’t be disappointed! The LaLiT also has a lovely outdoor shisha terrace for those Indian Summer evenings!

London certainly is a great place to savour all the cuisines of the world and the German picnic at the German Gymnasium is another culinary hotspot set in a historic building. This former gym is now a light and airy all-day café and bar with a charming outdoor terrace and spectacular interior. They’ve come up with a fun idea for Summer, a selection of picnic hampers designed in partnership with Wines of Germany. If the weather isn’t playing ball like on our visit, you can eat it inside the restaurant, but if it’s a sunny day then head to the canalside in King’s Cross. Either way, you’ll enjoy delicacies such as Bavarian Giga rolls filled with a variety of fillings including Black Forest ham and Obatzda cheese. The Nussecken shortbread topped with apricot jam and hazelnuts is a real winner, as are the Niederegger Luebecker Taler marzipan treats. We toasted our feast with sparkling Sekt wine, which is a bit like a German Prosecco, followed by an aromatic white Riesling. They’ve thought of everything, right down to the faux grass table cover and complimentary green sunglasses!

Another good place to soak up those last Summer rays is the new terrace at St Martins Lane in Covent Garden. We’d actually been invited to experience the innovative Speakeasy Cocktail Tea which is served in the hotel’s secret bar, Blind Spot. Guests give a secret password to gain access into this stylish space which hosts regular jazz and swing music sessions. However, with it being a gorgeous day we were tempted outdoors instead. The twist with this tea is that it’s served in the evening, on Sundays to Thursdays from 7 to 9 pm and likely to appeal to men and women alike. That’s thanks to the array of savoury treats such as mini quiche Lorraine, spinach and feta feuilleté and my personal favourite, the mini brioche buns filled with crayfish and mango. They’re served with three cocktails inspired by the British Empire’s tea trade including the Teetotaller with chamomile-infused Grey Goose vodka, the Giggle Water with Bombay Sapphire gin, and Have The Bee’s with Bacardi Carta D’oro rum. Sweet treats such as passion fruit macarons, dulce panna cotta and a chocolate Bailey’s cake are the perfect ending.

We hope you’ve enjoyed this round up of the best September events, style picks, restaurant and travel tips. What do you have planned for September?

The post On The Hotlist: Top September Events, Dining, Style & Travel appeared first on Luxury Columnist.

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anavoliselenu · 7 years

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Relase me chapter 16

“There you go,” Blaine says. “I like that color on your cheeks, Blondie.”

I can’t move, of course, but I’m seething as Justin leaves, chuckling softly as he descends the marble staircase.

After he’s gone, Blaine is a whirlwind of activity, in constant motion, looking, sketching, giving orders, adjusting lights. Despite the overtly erotic nature of his work, he’s actually a hoot to work with, and as far as I can tell there’s not a dark bone in his body.

“Evelyn’s dying to see you again,” he says when we’re finally wrapping up. “She wants the gossip on Justin.”

I slip the robe back on and tie the sash around my waist. “Really? I get the feeling she’s the one who has all the gossip. On Justin and on everybody else.”

“Sounds to me like you’ve got my lady nailed.”

“I really do need to give her a call,” I admit. “I’ve been wanting to see her, too. Maybe we can see each other tomorrow.”

He gives me an odd look and shakes his head. “Get out of here, Blondie. You’re messing with my concentration.”

“Oh.” I’m not sure how the conversation slipped away, but maybe Blaine is just showing off an artistic temperament. “You’re sure it’s okay if I go? I mean, how can you paint me if there’s no me to paint?”

“It’s amazing how much of painting from life doesn’t actually require the living to be present.” He makes a shooing gesture with his paintbrush. “Go. Edward’s probably bored out of his mind.”

“He’s just waiting out there?” I had assumed I’d need to call him or something.

I get dressed quickly, then grab my stuff and hurry down the stairs, but before I do I also grab the Leica and take a few quick shots of the room, of the painting in progress, and of Blaine. “This kind of thing doesn’t happen to me often. I’m keeping a record.”

“Blondie,” Blaine says, “I know the feeling.”

Edward isn’t at all put out by how long I’ve taken. Apparently he likes to sit in the Town Car and listen to audiobooks. “Last week it was Tom Clancy,” he says. “This week, Stephen King.”

On the ride from Malibu back to Studio City, Edward listens to his book and I listen to my thoughts. Or I try to. There’s so much going on in my head—Justin, my job search, Justin, the portrait, the million dollars, Justin, Jamie and Ollie. And, oh yeah, Justin.

I lean my head back, half-dozing and half-thinking, and before I know it, Edward has pulled up in front of the condo and is walking around to open the door for me.

“Thanks for the lift,” I say as I climb out.

“It was my pleasure. And Mr. Stark asked me to be sure you got this. He said to tell you it’s for this evening.” He hands me a white box tied with a piece of white twine. I take it from him, surprised to find there is essentially no weight to the box at all.

I’m curious about the box, but I’m more curious about my job prospects, so I toss the box on the bed as I enter my room, where I immediately fire up my computer and pull up my resume. This probably qualifies as anal, but I don’t want to call Thom, my headhunter, without having my resume in front of me. What if he has a question about the exact date one of my apps went on sale? What if he needs to know the title of the research paper I presented during my summer internship two years ago. What if he wants me to change the font and then resubmit the thing?

As soon as I’ve printed a copy, I dial Thom’s direct dial. “I know you just got my resume yesterday,” I say, “but I wanted to check and see if you’d had any nibbles.”

“I’ve had more than a nibble,” he says. “I’ve had a bite.”

“Seriously?” A sudden image of Justin asking why I didn’t just go work for him pops into my head. “Wait. With who?”

“Innovative Resources,” he says. “Familiar with them?”

“No,” I admit, sagging a bit with relief. I’m having a perfectly lovely time lost in my fantasy with Justin. But while silk sashes and blindfolds may get me hot in the bedroom, I don’t think I want to bow to the amount of control Justin would demand in the boardroom. “What kind of bite?”

“They want to schedule an interview. They’re short-staffed and they’re busy. They’d like to see you in the office tomorrow afternoon. Can you make it?”

“Absolutely,” I say, certain Blaine won’t mind. If I set the interview for two, that should be plenty of time to get in a full session, return to Studio City, get changed, and make it to wherever Innovative is located.

Thom promises me that he’ll set it up, and that he’ll pull some information on the company and send it over so that I can prep. I hang up the phone, drop the professional attitude, and do a wild dance out of my bedroom and out into the hall. I pound on Jamie’s door, but she’s not there, so I take my dance into the kitchen, pop the top on a Diet Coke, and go wild. Because it’s a celebration, I even dig into my secret stash and pull out the frozen Milky Way I keep hidden behind the ancient TV dinners.

Heaven.

I’m heading back to my room with my frozen chocolate bar sticking out of my mouth when I see the Monet still on the floor by the kitchen table. Jamie had promised she’d help me hang it—after making repeated lame jokes about needing to buy a stud finder so that it could get nailed—but so far we’d made no progress in that direction. I want it in my room, though, so I take it with me back to my bedroom. I clear a spot on my dresser, then prop it up in front of the mirror. Now, when I look at myself, I see me standing over an Impressionist sunset. Not a bad way to live, when you think about it.

In the mirror behind me, I see the reflection of the white box that Edward gave me. For this evening, he’d said. I turn to look at it, lift it, shake it a little.

I use a pair of nail scissors to clip the twine, then pull the top off the box. Inside, there is a piece of cloth and a strand of pearls. I peer at it for a second, confused, then hook a finger under the pearls. They rise, bringing the lace with them.

Panties.

A thong, to be specific. And the pearls are, well, in the thong part.

I leave them on my pillow and snatch up my phone. He’s probably buying the universe or something, but I text him anyway: Got ur present. V pretty. I wonder abt the comfort factor, tho.

His reply comes almost immediately: This from the woman who can’t walk in her shoes?

I scowl and type fast with my thumbs: U raise a good point. But shldn’t a man who can buy continents & small planets hve better sense?

I imagine his grin as his reply comes: Trust me. You’ll find my gift very satisfying. Did you read the card?

What? My reply is simple: ???

Under the thong. Read it. Follow it. Don’t break the rules.

And then, just moments later: Must go buy a large planet. Until tonight.

I laugh, grinning like an idiot as I toss my phone back on the bed and pull the box toward me. Sure enough, I find a card tucked into the tissue. I read it, and then I pick up the panties again. I run the strand of pearls between my fingers, breathing just a little bit harder than before as tiny beads of sweat gather between my breasts and my body warms all over.

I close my eyes, and I picture the words Justin wrote:

Wear this tonight. I’ll pick you up at 7.

Cocktail attire.

You’ll want to touch yourself. Don’t.

That’s my privilege.

D.S.

I will never doubt Justin again.

I’m dressed by six-thirty. By seven, I’m so desperately turned on that I wonder how these panties can be legal. They’re most definitely not practical. I grab a sparkling water and sit on the couch trying to read, but mostly I just press the water to the back of my neck because every time I move, the pearls make me hot, and if I’m not careful I’m going to melt before Justin picks me up.

Or I’ll break a rule.

Except, dammit, simply breathing is making me crazy. I imagine Justin’s voice in my ear, telling me how hot I’m getting, how tormented he knows I am, how wet I’m going to be for him, and how I absolutely, positively cannot do anything to release this pressure growing inside of me.

Oh, to hell with it.

I’m wearing a black garter and black stockings, and as I lean my head back against the couch, I trail my fingers up my thighs. It’s only cheating a little if I pretend it’s Justin’s hand, right? And after all, it’s not like he needs to know.…

My fingers slide over the pearls, but I don’t touch myself. I only touch the strand. It moves, just like it does when I walk, and the sensation is amazing, like tiny rockets shooting through my body, raising me up. I’m so wet I can hardly stand it, and I imagine Justin’s hands on my thighs, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses up my leg, his tongue flicking gently over me.

I moan softly—then jump guiltily from the sharp knock at the front door.

“Coming!” I call, and the irony really isn’t lost on me.

I straighten my skirt, take a deep breath to hopefully smooth my face and hide my secret, then hurry to the door.

I open it to find Justin standing there, looking so sexy in a tux that I think I might just come without the benefit of pearls or fingers or anything except the sight of this man in front of me.

“You look amazing,” he says, then moves his finger in a twirling motion. I comply, spinning with enough force so that the skirt of my deep purple cocktail dress flares out. It’s a vintage dress that I’ve loved for years, with a fitted waist and a plunging neckline. Sexy, and yet at the same time it has a Grace Kelly kind of class. It makes me feel stunning, so it’s easy to smile and accept the compliment.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I say as he bends down to brush a soft kiss over my lips—a kiss he punctuates with a not-so-soft squeeze to my ass.

“Careful,” I say. “Much more of that and we won’t be leaving this apartment.”

“Oh really? Why is that?” he asks innocently.

I smile sweetly, then grab my purse. I press a hand to his shoulder and lift myself up on my tiptoes so that my lips are right by his ear. “Because your little present is making me so hot that all I can think about is you inside me fucking me hard.”

I ease back, keeping the breezy smile pasted on. His expression no longer looks so innocent. With smug satisfaction I glide past him out the door. “Coming?” I ask from the threshold.

“Apparently not yet,” he growls, then follows me.

He’s brought the limo, and I swallow when I see the familiar backseat. My attempts to be cool may be harder than I imagined.

I nod to Edward, who is holding the door open for us, then slide in, the pearls moving with me. I can’t control the little gasp of pleasure that escapes me, but I settle into my seat and try to look nonchalant.

Justin eases in next to me and rests his hand on my knee. “Did you say something, Ms. Fairchild?”

“No. Nothing.” I clear my throat. It feels very, very warm in here. “So, where are we going?”

“It’s a charity function,” he says.

“Mmm.” I am so not interested. I’m also so, so aroused. Playing coy might be fun, but the fun is starting to turn into self-torture. “What charity?” I ask. “Any chance you could just write them a very big check and we can go to the house? Or your apartment? Or right here? Here is good, actually.”

What started as a grin on Justin’s perfect lips has turned into a full-blown chuckle. He reaches for the console and pushes the button to raise the privacy screen. “As a matter of fact, here is very good.”

Oh, thank God …

“I think you have something to tell me, Ms. Fairchild.” His eyes are dark and hungry.

I shift away from him, which considering the pearls isn’t the best idea. He sees my reaction and the corner of his mouth twitches. He’s enjoying my torment, the rotten bastard.

“Well?”

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He slides closer to me and takes my hand. He guides it to my thigh, then eases my skirt up just enough to reveal the band of my stocking. “You glow when you’re aroused,” he says. “I’ve told you that before. It’s an incredible turn-on.”

“Oh.” The word slips out of me like a wisp of cloud.

“Did you do this, baby?” he asks, guiding my hand higher. Tracing over my scars, finding that soft, tender spot where my thigh meets my sex. “Did you touch yourself before I came over?” He slides my hand over my sex. I’m slick with desire. He guides me to the pearls, then curves my fingers so that I’m caressing them as he moves my hand up and down, up and down. “Did you play with your clit? Did you think of me?”

“Yes,” I whisper, as his hand continues to control my finger.

“Did you read my note?”

“Yes.” I squirm as our joined hands continue to tease me. I am desperately, achingly hot for him.

“Yes, what?”

I fight not to smile and end up gasping. “Yes, sir.”

“What did it say?”

“Not to touch myself.” I tilt my head so that I’m looking straight into his eyes. My skin is burning, my dress clinging to me from the sheen of sweat our heat has generated. “You said that was your privilege.”

“And why is it my privilege?”

I’m so desperate for him I can barely speak. “Because I’m yours.”

“That’s right.” Slowly, he thrusts two fingers inside of me. I bite my lip so as not to cry out, silently begging him to just fuck me right then.

He doesn’t. Instead he pulls out, then gently takes both our hands away, sliding out from under my skirt. I actually whimper. “You broke the rules, Ms. Fairchild. What happens to girls who break the rules?”

I shift my hips, letting the pearls continue the work that our hands were doing. “They’re punished.”

He casts his eyes down toward my crotch. “I think you better sit still, Ms. Fairchild.”

“Justin,” I beg.

He bends over and slides his hands down into the bodice of my dress. His fingers find my very erect, very sensitive nipples, and twists them. Not hard enough to hurt—but just barely. I gasp as a fresh wave of pleasure breaks through me.

“Do you like that?”

“Oh, yes.”

He keeps one hand on my breast. With the other, he pulls out the lacquered chopstick I’d used to hold up my hair. It falls in loose curls to my shoulders. He runs the strands through his hands and breathes in the scent of my shampoo.

“I’m crazy about your hair,” he says, then takes a handful and tugs my head back so that I’m looking up at him. His mouth brushes over mine. My lips are parted, ready for his kiss, but he’s only teasing me. Torturing me.

“You’re so cruel,” I say.

“Oh, but I’m not,” he says, his lips brushing over my cheek, my temple as he speaks. “Tell me, Ms. Fairchild. What should your punishment be? What should I do to a naughty girl who touches herself when she’s not supposed to?”

I think about what he whispered to me the last time I was in this limo. About how he might have to punish me. About how if he was there, maybe he’d have to spank me. He’d been teasing—playing—but I’d heard real desire in his voice—and that had made me even wetter.

I lick my lips and turn my head so that I’m looking right at his face. “Maybe you ought to spank me.”

His eyes grow so dark I think I could get lost in them. “Jesus, Selena.”

I wriggle off the seat and lay myself over his legs, my hips on his thighs. Slowly—deliberately—I raise my skirt. The pearls of the thong are tight between my ass cheeks, and the lace of the garters is pulled down tight to my stockings. But my ass is otherwise bare.

“Go ahead,” I whisper. “Punish me.”

I’m even wetter now, my cunt pulsing in anticipation. I can’t believe I’m doing this.

His palm strokes my rear, and I close my eyes. His touch feels amazing.

“Selena,” he says. “Is this what you need?”

I open my eyes and see the slightest hint of worry beneath the desire. I think of my scars. Of my promise to him that I no longer need the pain.

“No,” I say. “But it is what I want.”

I watch as the worry fades to pure, erotic heat. “You’ve been a bad girl, Ms. Fairchild,” he says, his voice sending shockwaves through me.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Stark.”

His palm strokes my ass, then I feel a quick flash of cool air before his hand stings my rear. I cry out, more from surprise than from pain. He rubs me again, his fingers sliding down between my cheeks to find where I’m slick and wet for him. I hear his groan as my vagina clenches around him when he roughly thrusts two fingers inside me. “Oh, baby,” he says, then withdraws his hand and lands another smack on my ass.

This time, I don’t jump, but I do gasp, sucking in air while I keep my eyes closed, imagining the white of my rear turning slightly pink from the punishment he’s delivering.

“Do you like that?”

“Yes,” I confess.

“Hardly a punishment if you like it.” Smack. “But I like it, too.” Smack, smack.

I am in serious distress now, not from pain, but from such intense arousal that if Justin doesn’t fuck me right then and there, I’m probably going to lose my mind.

One more smack and I cry out for him to stop. He hesitates, probably not certain if I meant to call out our safeword, but I use the break to shift my position until I’m straddling him and my fingers are on the fly of his tux. “Fuck me,” I demand. “Fuck me now or don’t ever think of fucking me again.”

He laughs, then pulls me close and kisses me hard. I have his cock out and the pearls shoved to one side and I don’t wait for him because I am truly, totally, completely shameless at this point. I lower myself on him, taking him in, pressing my palms to the roof of the limo so that I can take him harder and deeper. He holds my waist and I ride him, everything disappearing around me except the sensation of pleasure and the feel of Justin’s cock filling me and my sore ass rubbing against the fine material of his tux.

“Oh, God, Selena, those pearls,” he says, and even through the haze of passion, I have to laugh. He’s getting an interesting stroking, too. And I smile as I explode, my muscles clenching, milking him, making him come, too, until I collapse forward, my arms around his shoulders, and we breathe together, spent and sated.

“Serves you right,” I whisper, and Justin, now soft inside me, laughs.

Justin pushes the button for the intercom and tells Edward to circle the block until he says otherwise. Apparently we’d arrived at the party.

Funny how I hadn’t noticed.

Once he and I have adjusted our clothes and otherwise tried to make it look like we haven’t been having sex in the back of a limo, Justin gives the order to return.

“Your lipstick is smeared,” he says, sounding amused.

“Gee. I wonder why?” I have a compact and a lipstick in my purse, and I use some of the bar napkins to do a quick removal before I reapply. I’m about to twist my hair back up when Justin takes my wrist.

“Leave it,” he says. “The way it falls on your shoulders is incredibly sexy.”

I toss the chopstick aside and fluff my hair. I peer out the window at the tony Beverly Hills hotel that is hosting the event. “So no skipping out, huh?”

“I’m afraid not.”

A valet opens the doors, but Justin helps me out. He presses his hand lightly to the small of my back and guides me inside.

The hotel is amazing. It’s nestled in the hills and so exclusive that I’ve never even heard of it. The reception desk is in its own building, and we walk across the Saltillo tiles to a set of French doors open in the back. There’s a tricked-up golf cart waiting for us. We get in and are whisked toward the event building. I spend the ride gaping in wonder at the grounds. Private bungalows are nestled away from the public areas but still close enough that guests can walk to the pool, the hiking trails, or any of the five-star restaurants that dot the premises.

The stucco event center sits beside a tennis court. It’s surrounded by birds of paradise and palm trees and suggests California in the twenties. The inside is less California traditional and more Beverly Hills money. The walls are light wood, the floor a polished stone. An inviting bar dominates one entire wall, and two others are lined with floor-to-ceiling windows that open out onto a stone patio with a massive fire pit. Gambling stations fill the space. From where we stand near the entrance, I can see roulette, craps, and blackjack.

Waiters mingle with trays of finger foods and drinks. Every corner is filled with clusters of people laughing, talking, gambling, and generally having a good time. A banner over the entrance reads: S.E.F.—FIVE YEARS, FIVE MILLION CHILDREN. AND GROWING.

“What is S.E.F.?” I ask Justin, but we’re moving again and he doesn’t hear me.

“Do you want to play?” he asks, stopping a woman in a Vegas-style outfit with a money changer.

“Sure. How does it work?”

“We buy the tokens and play for prizes. All the cash goes to the educational foundation.”

I glance up at him—I’m pretty sure I just figured out what the “S” stands for. “Stark Educational Foundation?”

“You’re a very bright woman, Ms. Fairchild.” He hands the girl two hundred dollar bills and she trades them out for tokens.

“I have a twenty in my purse.”

“And I won’t object if you spend it. It’s a very good cause. But we can start with these.” He hands me half the tokens. “Where to?”

Since I am terrible at blackjack and never learned how to play craps, I head to the roulette table.

“The lady feels lucky,” Justin says to the operator, a petite redheaded woman who looks to be barely sixteen.

“On your arm, Mr. Stark? I guess she is.”

As it turns out, it’s Justin who’s lucky. After half an hour, he’s quadrupled our money, despite the fact that I keep losing it. “I give up,” I say, taking a drink from a passing waitress. “Do you want to mingle?”

“Of course.” He takes my arm and we move away from the table and into the crowd.

“I think our dealer—is she called a dealer?”

“In the States, yes,” Justin says. “If we were in Paris, you could call her a croupier. What about her?”

“I think she has a bit of a crush on you.”

He pauses to look at me. “Does she? And why do you think that?”

“She kept looking at you. But don’t get any ideas. She’s far too young for you.”

“Actually, she’s older than she looks.”

I look up at him, surprised. “You really do know her?”

“Hell yes. She’s one of our most successful foundation recipients,” he says. “She grew up in a shithole of a town in Nevada with a mom who used the child-support check to buy meth. Now Debbie’s a freshman at UCLA majoring in chemistry.”

“That’s wonderful. What exactly does the foundation do?”

“We identify kids with an aptitude for science who, for whatever reason, aren’t able to access the opportunities. Most come from families like Debbie’s, but we have a few who are bound by their own circumstances. One young man is a quadriplegic. He thought his dream of college was over after the accident that left him paralyzed. He’s working on his Ph.D. from MIT now.”

I feel tears prick my eyes, and I lean over to kiss his cheek. “Excuse me,” I say, then slip away from him to one of the girls in the Vegas outfits and change my twenty dollars. It’s not much, but right then it’s everything.

Justin is smiling when I return. He says nothing, but he does take my hand and squeeze it.

We do the mingling party thing for a while, but then he pauses. “I see someone I’d like to speak with. Are you okay on your own for a few minutes?”

“I think I can tough it out,” I say. He brushes a kiss over my lips and I am left alone. I don’t mind, except that I don’t really know anybody. I glance around, searching for a familiar face, and am rewarded when I actually see one. Ollie. I take a step in that direction, only to see that he’s being intercepted by Justin.

A little knot of fear forms in my stomach. Why on earth would Justin want to talk to Ollie? I can think of no reason other than Ollie’s repeated mentions to me of his fear that Justin isn’t good for me and his hints that Justin has some serious skeletons in his closet. But I’ve never let on that Ollie’s mentioned that kind of stuff. Have I?

Suddenly I’m very afraid that I talk in my sleep.

I consider interrupting them, but that would be too neurotic, and so I force myself to turn in the opposite direction. I do, and am thankful to see another familiar face—Blaine. He sees me at the same time and holds out his arms. I slide into them and accept his vigorous hug.

“There she is, my favorite model.”

“You didn’t tell me you’d be here.” I tilt my head and glare. “Is Evelyn here? Is that why you looked so coy when I mentioned getting together with her?”

“Busted,” he says. He raises his hand and waves, and a moment later, Evelyn is by our side.

“I see her all the time,” Blaine says as he takes his leave of us. He winks at me. “All of her. You two talk.” He gives Evelyn a passionate kiss and, from the way she squeals, a little bit of a grope, too. Then he saunters off, Evelyn watching him go.

I start to speak, but Evelyn holds up her hand. “Hang on, Texas. I want to watch the view.” After a moment, his formal-wear-covered tush disappears in the crowd, and she turns to me with a sigh. “I’m almost sixty years old, and I’m only just now getting the best sex of my life. I swear, the universe isn’t fair.”

“Then again, maybe the universe is very good to you,” I say, and she laughs.

“Well, look who’s a glass-half-full kinda gal. You’re right, Texas. I like the way you think.”

I’ve never considered myself particularly optimistic, but maybe I am. Honestly, I really like this woman.

“I’ve been hearing nothing but good things about you, young lady,” she says. “Guess it was a rom-com, after all. Or are we talking NC-17?”

I feel my cheeks heat. “Could be,” I admit.

“Good for you. Hell, good for you both. That boy …” She shakes her head in an almost grandmotherly fashion.

“What?” I want to sit her down and demand she tell me everything she knows about Justin. Unfortunately, that kind of interrogation is generally considered uncool.

“I saw the way he kissed you just now. Gentle, but I swear he looked like he could eat you up.”

Her words are like cotton candy to me, sweet and delicious.

“He’s usually so closed off. It’s wonderful to see him opening up to you.”

“It is,” I say, even though I am completely clueless and desperately curious. Opening up to me? Hardly. I’m learning that Justin is closed even tighter than I’d thought. Considering how much I’ve exposed myself to him, I’m feeling a little bit sick to my stomach. I don’t show it though. Social Selena is in full form tonight. “He’s overcome so much,” I add, hoping she’ll respond with something that gives me a clue about the dark things in Justin’s past.

“Now you see what I meant by inscrutable.” She sighs. “It doesn’t matter that so much has been swept under the carpet. These things haunt you. How could they not?”

“I know,” I lie. What was swept away?

“See? That’s why I think you’re good for him. Hell, a year ago, you’d have to drag him to his own fund-raiser. Tonight he waltzed in here with you on his arm looking like he owns the world.”

“Well,” I say, “he pretty much does.”

“True. Shit, I’m not anywhere near drunk enough for tonight. Let’s go find one of those skinny bitches with the trays of drinks.”

si��/

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