Camera Shy (16 page)

Her back arched off the table and she knew she screamed this time, completely overcome
as he slammed into her, driving himself deep inside her as her orgasm went on and on
. She circled her clit faster as she heard her voice echoing in Jason's kitchen "
Don't
stop don't stop don't
—

* * * * *

—
stop, Jason, oh my God . . . .
"

He gasped as she tightened around his cock, lifting her hips and returning his every
thrust, pulling him deeper inside her
. "Oh fuck," he whispered. His breath caught. He scrunched his eyes closed, grimacing as the tension built, and built, until his—

* * * * *

—
lips parted just enough to let a helpless moan escape
. "Oh, God
. . . .
" The first waves of an orgasm rippled through her, each one more intense than the last. "Oh, God
. . . .
" She held her breath. Couldn't exhale. Couldn't—

* * * * *

—stop, and didn't even try.

He exhaled hard, bracing himself against the shower wall with one arm as his knees threatened to buckle beneath him, and—

* * * * *

—came so hard her back arched off the bed and her breath caught in her throat. She thought she moaned. She might have even cried out, and as she came down, it occurred to her that it was a damned good thing no one else was in the house. The alarm screeched again and she cursed under her breath as she hit the snooze button. Then she lay still, her eyes closed, letting the aftershocks rush over her, one after the other. Her orgasm satisfied the hunger that her dream had aroused, but it wasn't enough. It was nothing like what Jason could do for her. She had to get back to Tofino. She needed—

* * * * *

—her touch like he'd never needed another woman's touch. The more he had her, the more he craved her.

He turned and let the hot shower rush over his face and down the back of his neck. His knees were still unsteady, his body still trembling from his orgasm, but the hunger lingered.

He didn't know how things were going to pan out with Allyson. There was something she wasn't telling him, something that unsettled him, and he didn't know what. He didn't know how long this would go on, how it would end, what she wanted out of it, what
he
wanted out of it.

But he knew one thing for certain:

She couldn't get back to Tofino fast enough.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The night before she headed up to Tofino, Simone called Jason. Her heart pounded in her chest. She'd see him in less than twenty-four hours, but she needed to talk to him.

"Jason Connor."

His voice sent butterflies fluttering through her stomach.

"Jason," she said. "I just wanted to hear your voice before I come up there."
Because I don't hear it in my mind every waking hour, and I don't still feel your breath next to
my ear, and I don't—

"I'm glad you called." The grin in his voice made her knees weak. "I can't wait to see you."

"Neither can I. And . . . ." She trailed off.

"Yes?"

"There's, I need to ask you something."
Ok, you're committed. No getting out of it
now
.

She heard him swallow just before he said, "Okay, shoot." Was that nervousness in his voice? She wished she could read his mind. "I want .

. . ."
Shit, I can't believe I'm asking this
. The tension hung on the line between them, crackling like static. Her mouth was dry. She took a deep breath. "Would you photograph me?"

Silence. A long silence. "You—you mean, you want me to?" He paused. "Sure, I, of course, I'd love to. What did you have in mind?"

"Like the photos on your wall." Her cheeks burned. "Nude." He coughed and she realized he must have been taking a drink just then. He cleared his throat. "Really? You're serious?"

No, no, forget I said anything. What the hell am I thinking? I'm not thinking clearly.
What's wrong with me? No!
"Yes."

"I'd love to, Allyson. But I thought—I thought you didn't like the camera. And nude . . . ."

"I know," she said. She chewed her lip for a second. "I've been thinking about it for a while." Deep breath. "I want you to do it. If you want to."

"I do, I absolutely do," he said. "Did, um, did you have anything specific in mind?"

Besides you fucking me senseless afterward? And beforehand? No, not really
. "No, I figured I would leave that up to you. You're the artist."

He was silent for a moment. "I think I have some ideas."

"Oh?"

He laughed softly. "You'll see when you get here."

"Tease."

"Me? Never."

"Okay. I'll be in tomorrow night. Late. Probably eleven or so."

"I'll be up."

I'm sure you will. You'd better be
.

* * * * *

Jason hung up the phone and thought for a long moment about her request. So
that
was what she'd been thinking all this time.

He thought of the night they met, how she had balked at the camera. She was the last person on earth he had expected to ask to be photographed, let alone in the nude. But if ever there was a woman he wanted to look at through the camera lens . . .
God
Almighty, Allyson, I'll take as many shots of you as my camera will hold
. He rose from his chair and took his camera bag down from its shelf. He pulled out a case of lenses and sorted through them, looking for the perfect combination for her shoot. A long portrait lens, a wide angle, a couple of backups. She had a face that

was made for the camera, and her body, good lord, that body. Her curves were gentle and supple, slim and soft, absolutely exquisite for modeling.

Or fucking.

He swallowed hard.

He picked up his macro lens and held it in his hand for a moment, wondering. It was intended for ultra close-ups of the tiniest things. Perfect for a nipple. Or her carefully manicured nails. Or her lips. In his mind, he pictured some ultra close up shots of her nipples, her fingers, the ends of her hair splayed along her shoulder. But on second thought, even if she was asking him to do the shoot, she was—or at least had been—camera shy. He'd have to get the macro lens right up near her skin to get the shot, and he guessed that would make her nervous. Really nervous. Cameras unnerved a lot of people, and being right up in her face the way a macro had to be, that would certainly be too much for her. No, she would be better off if he used the other lenses so he could stay a few feet away from her, making the camera's presence less invasive.

He wondered what it was that terrified her so much about being in front of the camera before, and what had changed. Her reaction that first night was more than just a little camera shyness. It was like she had a phobia. Yet now she was okay with it. Now she was okay with being naked, completely exposed and vulnerable, in front of it. Maybe it was less a problem with the camera and more of an issue with the photographer. Maybe she just needed to trust him. Yet she'd only met him twice, spent those few blissful days with him. Was it really enough time for her to trust him like that?

He zipped the lenses into the camera bag and hoped she really meant it, that she really was comfortable with his camera, that she really did want him to shoot her like that.

Because, holy hell, he wanted to shoot her like that.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The next morning, before she drove to the airport, Simone walked Cecily up the front steps to Gregory's house. When the door opened, Cecily squealed with delight and hugged Gregory's wife, Jessica, before running into the house to find her father. Jessica watched over her shoulder as Cecily disappeared down the hallway. Simone gritted her teeth at the loving, maternal smile on Gregory's new wife's face. That's my daughter, girl, she thought.
Not that I'm God's gift to parenting, but don't you
dare take my little girl from me
. She couldn't remember the last time her daughter had been so excited to see
her
.

"Gregory should be down in a minute," Jessica said. She stood aside and gestured for Simone to come in.

As she walked past, Simone couldn't help but notice the subtle swell beneath Jessica's blouse. Bitter jealousy stung her tongue. She quickly swallowed it and forced a smile. It wasn't as if she had any reason to be jealous; she was the one who'd pushed Gregory away in the first place. What business was it of hers if he and his new wife were expecting?

"Simone." Gregory's curt voice caused her to turn her head. He stepped into the foyer, his expression stiff and blank.

"Gregory," she said with a nod.

Jessica's eyes flicked back and forth between them. Simone pretended not to see the way her hand absently rested on her barely-noticeable belly. Jessica looked at Gregory. "I'll leave you two alone." She started to leave the foyer, pausing to exchange a quick kiss with her husband.

Simone watched her leave. "When is she due?"

Gregory blinked. "January."

"Congratulations." The word was sour on her tongue.

Gregory watched her. "I will still be able to take Cecily even when the baby comes." He shifted his weight. "In fact, I would like her to be here during that time. So

she doesn't feel like we're pushing her away to make room for the new baby, or that we love her any less."

We
? Jealousy flared within her at the thought of Jessica loving her daughter. Or worse, Cecily loving Jessica, maybe more than she loved her?
Christ, Simone, stop it,
you're being petty
.

"Simone?"

Simone nodded. "Of course. Certainly. I don't see why not."
I wonder how much
time I can spend with Jason then
. As soon as that thought went through her mind, she cringed inwardly, hoping Gregory didn't notice.
Mother of the Year, here I come
. She took a breath. "Does she know about the baby?"

Gregory nodded. "She does. I told her a few weeks ago."
But you couldn't tell me. Stop it, Simone! You're divorced, for crying out loud!
She cleared her throat. "She didn't say anything to me about it." Gregory shrugged. "She's been through a lot, Simone. She probably doesn't want to be in the middle of any of this anymore."

Smart kid. Pity her mom is such a petty idiot
. "You're probably right."

"I think she's worried about you."

Simone's heart quickened. "Why?"

Gregory rolled his eyes. "Come on, Simone, she's not stupid. She's heard about everything—the tabloids, the divorce, all of that. And now—" He paused. Simone bristled. "Now what?"

"What's going on? With you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Something's changed. Everything has changed. Your attitude, everything, it's changed."

"Is that good or bad?"

Gregory shifted his weight again. "You tell me." He raised an eyebrow. "Are you dating again?"

Not that it's any of your business, and not that I want Cecily to know yet, because I
don't know what I'm doing, or where this is going, or—

"Simone?" He furrowed his brow. "What's wrong with you? You keep zoning out."

"I'm fine."

"You're not." He paused, raising an accusing eyebrow. "You're not getting into . .

. ?"

Simone caught the implication of his words and narrowed her eyes. "Jesus, Gregory, I'm not doing any kind of drugs."

"Good," he said.

He looked relieved, which set her teeth on edge. Christ, was she that much of a mess that people expected her to be into drugs now? She sighed.
Come to think of it, yeah,
I am that messed up
.

"I'm not doing drugs," she said again.
Unless you count a man named Jason Connor
as a drug. In that case, send me to rehab, because I'm hooked
. Gregory cocked his head. "What
is
going on then?" She rubbed her forehead. "Look, it's complicated."

Gregory laughed bitterly. "I've heard that before."

"Don't start," she growled. "What I do in my personal life is—"

"All over the media, sooner or later." Anger flashed in his eyes. "I'm not trying to pry into your personal life, Simone; I'm not interested in any gossip fodder or anything of the sort. But we have a daughter, and we
both
have a responsibility to her. I don't want her being blindsided when her mother's latest misdeeds wind up all over the tabloids again."

Simone's face burned. "It's not going to happen this time."

"I've heard that before."

Stung, Simone looked away. "Look, I'm not trying to blindside her with anything. If nothing else I . . . ."

He waited. "You what?"

She sighed. "There isn't anything to tell her right now, because I don't even know what's going on."

"Simone—"

She raised a hand defensively. "Gregory, I swear, I'm doing things differently now. I just—I'm just trying to sort it all out in my head before I start getting her involved."

"She's involved in everything, Simone. That's called parenting."

"I know. I know. Listen, just give me some time, and I will tell her what's going on. But I want to be a bit surer I
know
what's going on."

"What
is
going on?"

Simone bit her lip. How much did she really want him to know? She avoided his eyes. "Look, I'm trying to keep it quiet, but I trust you." She took a breath. "I met someone . . . ."

"Is it serious?"

Is it
? Her mouth went dry. Why didn't she have an answer? Of course it wasn't serious. It was just sex. Wasn't it? She wetted her lips. "I, I don't know." He raised an eyebrow again. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"It's—it's too soon. I'm not sure where things are going yet. We've barely spent any time together yet."
But I'm still going to pose naked for him this weekend, because
apparently I am as insane as everyone thinks
.

Gregory's face hardened. "Figure it out. Soon. Before the tabloids catch wind of it and tell your daughter for you."

"That's not going to happen. Not this time."