The View from the Top (Kate's POV)

I watched the limo glide to the curb from the penthouse window, the tinted glass reflecting the late-afternoon Miami sun. Joe stepped out first, then reached back to help Emily; his soon-to-be fiancée, if tonight went according to plan. Iris followed, sleek and poised as always. The three of them together looked like something out of a magazine spread: effortlessly beautiful, radiating that rare kind of chemistry that made people stare.

They were adorably in love. Joe’s hand never left the small of Emily’s back; she kept glancing up at him with that soft, secret smile. Iris walked just a half-step behind, close enough to be part of them but still giving them space. I felt a little flutter in my chest watching it. Genuine love like that was rare in my world.

My mind drifted back to the day in Joe's office, I'd heard the rumors; how he made every woman feel not just sexy, but powerful. It was him that shot Hannah Davis' breakout Sports Illustrated Swimsuit cover. Hannah had gushed about him over drinks once, eyes glazed with memory: “I swear, when I pulled my bottoms down for that shot, I had to fight the urge to rip them off completely and show him exactly how wet he’d made me.” She’d laughed, but there’d been real heat behind it.

What none of them warned me about was how drop-dead gorgeous Joe was in person. Tall, broad-shouldered, that quiet intensity in his eyes. When I handed him the envelope of selfies; tasteful nudes with shadows and hands placed just so, a painted-on bikini, sheer lingerie that left nothing to the imagination; I’d watched his reaction closely. A faint flush crept up his neck, but then something shifted. He stood, moved closer, voice low and certain.

“All three.” He said when I asked him which of the three shoots he wanted to do. That was it. No hesitation. No leering. Just pure creative fire.

Then he drew me. Not just my face or figure; me. Every curve, every fold of my sex rendered with erotic precision, beautiful and explicit without crossing into crude. I’d felt heat pool low in my belly the moment I saw it. Hannah hadn’t warned me about that either; how panty-dropping he’d be. Good thing I hadn’t worn any that day cause I would've handed them to him along with the signing bonus.

The later sketches only stoked the flame. The way he depicted the models’ hands and mouths worshiping my body; fingers teasing, lips brushing, eyes full of hunger; sent shivers through me every time I looked at them. I’d never done anything this bold, this intimate on camera. Joe had promised we’d only go as far as I was comfortable, but the truth? I was ready to follow any command he gave from behind the lens. And if he cleared the room, set the camera aside… I’d have let him do whatever he wanted to me.

Knowing Emily would be there too only heightened it. Something about her presence; watching, maybe even joining; made my skin prickle in ways I hadn’t felt outside my own late-night fantasies with a glass of wine and my favorite vibrator.

I shook my head, clearing the haze, and moved to stand by the elevator as the numbers ticked upward. I’d curated outfits for all of us tonight; sleek, sexy, perfect for the opening. They were going to look stunning.