Shawn didn't make things difficult for her. He simply nodded and sat down on her couch, making himself comfortable as if he had every right to be there.
From where he sat, he had a perfect view of her as she moved around the kitchen. Her back was to him, but he could see the graceful line of her neck and the gentle curve of her hips as she reached up to grab two mugs from the cabinet. She had taken off her jacket, leaving her in a simple white t-shirt that hugged her upper body.
And the way her jeans hugged her ass... well, it was a tempting distraction to admire until she was done making the coffee.
"I never got to properly thank you for helping me today," Layra said as she turned around, breaking Shawn's train of thought. "I really appreciate what you did, especially carrying me all the way to the studio. If I were to miss that photoshoot, I don't know what I would have done."
"Don't mention it. I'm glad I could help. Especially since I got to see your photoshoot as a bonus." Shawn leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His eyes roamed over her body, taking in every detail.
Layra blushed at his directness. "You're very blunt, aren't you?"
"When I see beautiful things, I don't hide my appreciation." Shawn gave her a lazy, confident smile. "And you, Layla, definitely are beautiful."
Instead of responding to that, Layra just finished making their coffee. Then she brought the two mugs over and set them on the small coffee table in front of the couch. She took a seat on the other end, putting as much distance between them as the small couch allowed.
Shawn didn't say anything. He just watched her, a thoughtful expression on his face as he sipped the hot coffee.
For a few minutes, they sat in silence. Each second stretched longer than the last. Every sip of coffee felt like an excuse to fill the quiet space between them.
Finally, when both mugs were empty, Shawn gave a mischievous smile and said, "Well, that was a good cup of coffee, but I feel there are better ways for you to thank me."
Layra's hands tightened around her empty mug. "What are you talking about? It's not what I'm thinking, is it?"
"Hehe... I don't know what you're thinking, Layra. But I am thinking about your photoshoot earlier." Shawn leaned forward, closing the distance between them. "Watching you pose for the camera... I couldn't take my eyes off you. But I was just sitting far away. I couldn't see the details up close, so maybe you could thank me by recreating some of those poses for me? Just for me. Here. Now."
Layra froze. She stared at him, her mind racing. 'Recreate those poses? Here? For him? Just like in the studio? That was insane.'
They were alone in her apartment, and he was asking her to strip and pose for him privately. It sounded like a request straight out of a fantasy, not something a real person would suggest.
Yet, the way he said it—so casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world—unsettled her. He acted as though she owed him this, that saving her from a twisted ankle gave him the right to request a private posing session.
But what unsettled her even more was that a part of her was actually considering it.
Before she could form a response, Shawn moved again. He closed the remaining distance between them and sat beside her on the couch.
"Come on, Layra. It's just us here. No cameras. No crew." His voice was calm, yet there was an undercurrent of command in it. "Just you and me. Don't you think that's better? Moreover, you can show your body to a room full of men, but not to the one who saved you and has been taking care of you since this afternoon?"
His words struck a nerve, but Layra couldn't deny he had a point. She had posed provocatively for a room full of strangers, including the sleazy photographer who clearly enjoyed every moment of it. She had stripped down to her thong and let them capture her most intimate angles without protest.
Yet when it came to Shawn, someone who had shown her kindness and concern, she hesitated. It wasn't about modesty or principles. It was about the intensity of his presence and the way he looked at her. That look promised something more than just appreciation for her body.
Meanwhile, Shawn knew he was taking things too far. Talking about saving her and taking care of her was a manipulative move, and he was aware of it.
'But who cares? With a beautiful woman like Layra, sometimes manipulation is the easiest way to get what you want. Besides, it's not like she hasn't already shown her body to others today. What's the harm in showing it to just one more person?'
Shawn watched the internal conflict play out across her face. He saw the hesitation, the uncertainty, and the slight tremble of her lower lip.
After a few seconds of silence, Layra's shoulders slumped in defeat. She took a deep breath and looked directly into his eyes.
"You're playing unfair, Shawn." Her voice was softer now, with a hint of resignation. "But yes. Since you already saw everything at the studio, I guess it won't hurt to show it again."
"Great! I knew you would understand." Shawn's face lit up with a triumphant grin. Then he shifted on the couch, leaning closer to her. "So, let me help you remove your clothes. After that, you can recreate some of the poses from the photoshoot. I want to see them up close."
Layra's cheeks flushed at the thought of Shawn undressing her. The idea was both exciting and terrifying.
But she nodded slowly, allowing him to take control.