You got the list?” Lewis asked.“What the hell is the deal with the temperature?”“Razel is not allowed to sweat,” Maximo answered. “If she does,fanatics will appear from nowhere like mischievous sprites and bottleeach drop and then sell it on eBay for millions.

He shouldn't want to see her, but he did. He shouldn’t want to know how she felt, how she tasted, but he did. He shouldn’t want to know what food she liked or what she thought about when she was alone. He shouldn’t want to know what her favorite music was or what she did when she wasn't modeling, if she did anything at all, but he did. He wanted to know everything there was to know about Razel D’Punz; the real Razel. No makeup. No costumes. No lights or camera.

She had never been so affected by the idea of intimacy, but there was something about his eyes; something warm, and gentle even though she felt transparent every time he turned his attention on her; like he could see her, really see her. The idea of being so exposed to someone…it took her breath away.

Don’t you like them?” She ran her fingers across the waistband ofher panties.“I’m afraid I can’t appreciate them in such low lighting. You will have to take them off and let me have a better look.” He tried to smile innocently. She rested her hands on her hips and shook her head slowly.“Very well. I will have to do it for you.” He took a step closer to her.