“Go fix up your face. Your makeup is smeared and I doubt you want that in your photos. I’ll get Brutus out and settled.”
“Deal.” I clapped and bounced on my feet a couple times before dashing to the bathroom to fix what I most certainly messed up with my moment and crying jag.
* * *
“Open the robe and let it fall off a shoulder, and then lean back over the block, one hand on the edge,” Killian instructed.
We’d gotten past the heavy moment and I’d fixed my hair and makeup and given Brutus some pets. Tossed his toy across the room a few times, allowed his good mood to change my previously sour one. It had worked like a charm.
“Like this?” I rested both of my elbows on the higher block, my butt on the lower one, and kicked one leg out.
The camera snapped quietly as Lenny Kravitz sang “American Woman” through the surround sound. I swung my foot playfully and smiled as though I were having a blast when in reality the position was super uncomfortable and one I wouldn’t be able to hold much longer.
“Relax… This isn’t working.” He sighed.
I frowned. Occasionally a photographer would claim a setup wasn’t working and change it up. Those days meant much longer sessions in much more difficult positions, and I was already exhausted from the lack of sleep last night and the emotional outpouring we had about an hour ago.
Killian brought the camera over to me and showed me the still frames. They were beautiful, but the more I stared the more blah I felt about them too.
“I mean, they’ll probably be great for a catalogue or a website purchase but something’s missing.” He tied his hair back away from his face in one of those artsy man buns I adored. The man was so naturally sexy. He worked barefoot, and climbed up and down a ladder, crawled on the floor, sat in a chair, basically everything that could give him the angles he wanted. I loved working with professional photographers who did that. They weren’t afraid to get dirty. They were solely focused on getting an incredible shot and that tended to make me more money. Win-win.
He sighed again and glared at the camera. “They’re too damn cold. I feel like the jewel tones in the teddy, the sheen on your skin…all of it is beautiful and warm, but the white background and the barren square blocks are doing nothing for me.” He pursed his lips and turned around and stared at the suede brown couch that was up against the brick wall across the other side of the room. “Feeling adventurous?”
I grinned. “Always.”
“Let’s try my couch.”
“Are you sure you want your home in pictures that could end up on billboards?” I reminded him of what was at stake.
“I want the perfect shot. One that will not only accentuate your beauty and down-to-earth appeal, but the lusciousness and warmth of the apparel. I know we were told to use the backgrounds that could be manipulated but I’m thinking we do both. Give them the online standard catalogue image and then something artful and more consistent with your fashion spreads in magazines.”
I made my way to the kitchen in the center where I’d left my drink and sucked down a few gulps of a bottled water before heading over the couch. “And what do you know of my fashion spreads?”
He grinned and manually rolled one of his giant lights on wheels over to the couch. He plugged it in and fired it up. The couch instantly had a spotlight on it that I had to admit, was pretty mesmerizing.
“I told you I looked you up. When I research something, I’m thorough. Please sit in the circle so I can gauge the lighting.” He pointed at the spotlight on the couch.
I sat down in the center as he fiddled with things. “Already I’m liking this better. Your skin looks luminescent and that green against the light brown of the couch does wonders for the contrast and tones on that fabric.”
I watched as he went back and got his handheld camera. Killian preferred to hold the camera in his hand when he shot. A lot of photographers chose to use a tripod of sorts when they shot because it reduced the possibility of movement blurring the image.
“Can you do a few poses?” He ducked his head behind the lens.
Feeling bold, I undid the robe and artfully laid it over one side of the couch. If it was caught in the picture, the buyer would see there was a robe to purchase too. I turned to the side making sure my torso was on full display giving a good view of the tatas, but also lifted my hip up. The camera clicked. I pulled at the side slit of the teddy until it opened all the way up to my hip where the panties could be seen.
“Perfect. Pull up a little more on the nightie and we’ll be able to see the edge of the panties as well as that ass I’d like to take a bite out of.”
My mouth dropped open in shock and he snapped like wild.
“Christ,” he swore, and I smiled as he adjusted his jeans at the crotch. If I wasn’t mistaken, there was definitely heat rising alongside something else. My heart pounded and I changed position, getting on both knees on the fluffy surface and facing him dead-on. I lifted my hands into my hair, let my mouth fall open in a sultry inhale move I’d been taught by a few pros when I first started, closed my eyes, and twisted my arms in a way that my scars would not show.
The camera spang to life.
I waited a moment, opened my eyes, and tugged on the lace between my breasts, letting the two sides of the teddy’s thin shoulder straps fall delicately along my outer arms as though I was getting ready to remove it.
More clicks.
I got into the music and the more moody and far more comfortable location to the point where I ended up lying down on the couch, my hair spread all over the seat cushion while Killian stood above me, straddling my form. I’d pulled the teddy up to bare my stomach with one hand so you could see the entirety of the lace and satin panties. There I hooked one edge of the side at the hip with my thumb and tugged it down just enough to make it look like I was getting ready to remove them. Hoping the image would portray a woman rocking amazing lingerie who was ready to be made love to.
“Fuckin’ hell. I should be paying you to take these photos. Fuck me running. This is so much better than taking pictures of the battles overseas.” He snapped a few more then looked at the screen intently.
“That would be really hard to do, don’t you think?” I winked at the camera playfully when in reality I was absolutely winking at Killian.
“What would?” he asked.
I grinned and he snapped a photo.
“Fucking while running. I mean, you’d have to carry me, though I imagine the bouncing would be pretty spectacular.” I cocked an eyebrow.
His entire body went still. “Are you trying to make this hard on me?” He narrowed his gaze.
“Hard?” I snickered and bit down on my bottom lip as I blatantly stared at what I knew was a pretty hard package behind that denim. His eyes heated and I couldn’t help but squirm under the direct punch of desire pounding off him in waves.
He was turning me on.
This shoot was making me hot and bothered.
I was connecting with this man on a visceral and emotional level and I hadn’t even tasted his kiss yet. It was mind-boggling, the chemistry and heat between us.
“Addy, I’m holding on by a thread here. I’m doing my best to be professional when everything in me wants to lay right on top of you and work that insane body of yours until you’re hoarse from screaming my name in nothing but sheer pleasure. Then I want to do it over and over again.”