Free Pleasure Me by Tina Donahue

nothing existed except the enchanting delight of his mouth, touch, presence, and love.
     

Chapter Five
     
    Despite the creativity Wylder had shown in making his candy tree, he nixed the idea of being her mom’s protégé.
    “All thumbs.” He held up his hands.
    They were as magnificent as the rest of him, strong and masculine. Starr sucked each of his fingertips and nuzzled his palms. “No prob. Whether you have two thumbs or ten won’t matter a bit when you help me with Mom’s video and sales presentation.”
    “Huh?”
    “She needs an objective audience. I’m her daughter. She’ll think I’m biased.”
    “You are. So am I. Toward you.”
    “Then you’ll come—I mean, you’ll be there?”
    “Do you even have to ask?”
    No, she didn’t. His commitment to them and what she wanted was nicer than anything she’d known.
    Over the next days, Starr called upon her years in modeling and the entertainment industry. She set the stage, so to speak, for her mom’s sales presentation to the university and her YouTube video. The workshop was tidy, tools lined up in the order Ethra would introduce them to students at the school or on the Net. Earlier, Starr had gone online purchasing the best video equipment. She’d had her purchases shipped to her mom’s post office box in Collins, a neighboring town.
    Ready to roll, she adjusted the camera, along with the tripod, and fooled with the lighting.
    Wylder leaned against one of the worktables, out of camera range. “You should make films of the town and the pack for posterity.”
    “Gee’s the keeper of those memories or did you forget? I doubt he’d want anyone horning in on his territory.”
    Wylder regarded a monitor showing the area she’d film. The angle made the room seem larger than the actual square footage, her mom’s art displayed in the background to pique interest, rather than coming off like a hard sell. “You’re so good at this.”
    She made a dismissive sound. “I can’t even get my leading lady to show up.” She lifted her face and yelled, “Mom!”
    “Coming, coming, coming. No need to make such a racket.” She rushed into the room.
    Starr made a face. “What are you wearing?”
    “Clothes.”
    Her ensemble looked as if she’d plucked the garments off the set of the 1950s hit Leave it To Beaver. Her blouse was frilly, skirt voluminous. She’d even donned a string of pearls and heels. Apparently, she’d also been shopping on Amazon these last days. Starr gestured to the getup. “Those duds have to go.”
    “No. I want to look good.”
    “You’re not baking cookies here. You’re pounding metal, soldering stuff, spray painting. You need to wear jeans and a simple tee, along with your safety gear. Right?” She turned to Wylder.
    He looked like the proverbial deer caught in headlights or in the ravenous stare of a wolf. “Uh.”
    “He agrees.” She turned back to her mom. “Trust me. I know how these promo things work. Go on, change. We’ll wait.”
    Muttering beneath her breath, Ethra stomped down the hall.
    “No makeup either,” Starr called out. “You’re selling knowledge, not trying to fill your dance card with potential mates.”
    Wylder groaned. Starr shot him a look.
    Once her mom was back to looking as she usually did—naturally beautiful—Starr stood next to her and pointed at the camera. “See the red light? Talk to it, look at it, nowhere else.”
    “Not even when I’m pounding or soldering?”
    Jeez. “You can look away to see what you’re doing, but occasionally glance at the camera as you talk, so you appear to be speaking to your audience. Ready?”
    She clenched her teeth and nodded.
    Starr patted her shoulder. “Relax. Smile. Look as if you’re enjoying this.” She got in place behind the equipment and pointed her finger. “Action.”
    “What?”
    “Go. Start talking.”
    Her mom nodded, smoothed her tee then pulled a stray hair off her top.
    “Cut.” Starr planted her hands on her hips.