A Strong Hand

the rescue?" He giggled at the image of Gabe, who was wearing a purple silk poet shirt with ruffles today, prancing about in the role of hero, even though he was touched by the other man's concern. He'd no idea that Gabe felt anything toward him other than a desire to taunt him until he blushed and ran.
    "Why did you let her get to you like that?" Gabe asked, serious for once.
    Nick couldn't bring himself to confide in Gabe that he didn't like watching her flirt with Damian. "I don't know; she just got to me."
    "She calls herself Mistress Bettie but don't get misled by the window dressing," Gabe said, starting to powder Nick's face. "Where's that eyeliner?"
    "I don't wear eyeliner." Nick spoke absently, his mind consumed with the new information. "I just assumed that she—"
    "You will for this shot, honey." Gabe pulled the skin taut near Nick's right eye with his thumb and started smudging the liner into the lash line. "Just because she wears that fetching leather bustier and those killer heels doesn't mean a thing. She's a wannabe."
    "How well does Damian know her?" Nick could have bitten off his tongue at how that came out. Jealous didn't even begin to describe it. He found his fists clenching around the forgotten crop.
    "He doesn't have to know her; he knows how to read people." Gabe smiled as Nick writhed uncomfortably, 129

    A Strong Hand
    by Catt Ford
    remembering how well Damian had read him. "It comes with the territory."
    "Are you into this S&M thing too?" Nick asked before he could stop himself.
    Gabe smiled secretively. "Maybe it's better that you not know."
    "Maybe," Nick muttered. He suddenly remembered that if Gabe answered his question, perhaps the stylist might be asking the same thing of him. And Nick was quite sure he was not ready to share.

    * * * *
    When Nick came out to the set, Mistress Bettie's face was prettily flushed as she flirted outrageously with Ashley, who was being most courtly with her, considering his lack of interest in the fairer sex.
    Damian took in a quick breath when he saw Nick, his eyes dark and mysterious ringed with the black liner. Nick was still a bit uncertain about being hauled out here to be in a shot with Mistress Bettie. He wasn't afraid of her; she wielded none of the erotic power over him that Damian did. But that didn't mean he had to like her ragging at him or having to pose with her.
    "Come over here, pretty boy, and get on your knees,"
    Bettie called enticingly to Nick.
    Nick opened his mouth to retort but Damian forestalled him. "If anything, I might put you on your knees to him."
    "Oh no, I think—"
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    "But you're not the photographer and we will do this my way," Damian said, his eyes still on Nick.
    "Bunch of fucking poofters," Bettie muttered.
    Damian turned to look at her and she lowered her eyes, biting her lip.
    Ashley was laughing at her. "Now it's not really wise to insult the client, is it, my dear?"
    "I took that as a compliment," Damian said. "Nick, please go stand next to Bettie."
    " Mistress Bettie," the dark girl corrected, obviously starting to get riled with the needling.
    "Face each other, please," Damian said, ignoring her retort. "Bettie, lift up that crop, as if you're about to strike him. You hate that you have to look up to him. Nick, you're not going to let her get away with threatening you."
    Her eyes narrowed and Nick, his temper a bit on edge since their earlier confrontation, grabbed her wrist, the muscles of his bicep bulging against the black T-shirt he wore as they strained against each other.
    The two dark models glared at each other, startled when Damian said, "Yes! That's exactly what I want. Hold it right there. More! Push against each other. I want to see those muscles work. Yes, that's it! You can stop now."
    Both models let go of the crop at the same moment, causing it to fall to the floor. Nick bent to pick it up at the same time as Bettie, and they banged their heads together smartly.
    Bettie rubbed her head and giggled. "This isn't over yet, pretty boy. I'll get you somehow."
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    "Not if I get you first," Nick retorted. "Well, that must have looked brilliant. Thank fuck Damian didn't get a shot of that."
    "Who says I didn't?" Damian said.
    "Blackmail material," Nick said accusingly. He shivered slightly, remembering that Damian actually owned photos of him that could be used for that purpose.
    As if he knew just what Nick was thinking, Damian shook his