Page 21 of Dirty Shots

She shrugged. “You’re not likely to get that mixed up with anything else.”

He seemed to be trying to suppress another smile. “Okay, elephant it is. I think if you yell that in the middle of everything, it’ll be enough to break the mood anyway.”

They grinned at each other, and Anya relaxed further. Perhaps it was the wine, but she suspected it was that they could still be at ease with each other. He still wanted to photograph her, and she still wanted him to. Yes, they’d had sex, but that didn’t mean their situation had changed.

Something occurred to her. “Um, Eric. The butt plug hasn’t been ... umm ... used before, has it?”

He frowned. “No, Anya. Of course not. Everything here is all for you. I went out and bought it specially. I would never use your props on another woman.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t admitted there might be other women, but at least she didn’t need to worry about whose skin the handcuffs had last been pressed against, or whose breasts the ropes had last bound.

“So when do you want to get started?”

“I’m ready now.” She picked her glass back up and gulped down the last of her wine, feeling the slight burn down the back of her throat, the flush of color the alcohol brought to her cheeks. The studio was set up much as it always had been, with the white paper rollers providing the background, and more white paper on the floor. Eric never needed to photograph her with any other kind of background. It was her body he was interested in, nothing else.

She’d worn a fitted black dress and a pair of heels. She was normally a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl, but she’d wanted to make an impression. Where the previous times she’d been to his apartment she’d felt like she was going to work—albeit wonderful work—this time she’d felt more like she was going on a date. Her clothes reflected that, and the fact he’d poured her a glass of wine. Even so, it was like no other date she’d ever been on.

Eric stood close behind her, the heat of his body filling the inches between them, his spicy aftershave in her nostrils. His hands reached up and swept her hair to one side to expose the zipper holding her dress together. He rested one hand on her shoulder, as if to keep her grounded. With the other he took hold of the zipper and slowly pulled it down. Her breath caught in anticipation, the comparative cool of the apartment kissing her skin. She wished he could have removed the dress to discover her without underwear, but her curves meant there was no way she’d go out in public without a bra.

He pushed the straps from her shoulders, allowing the dress to slide down the rest of her body and puddle around her feet. Anya stepped out from the circle, so she stood in just her heels, lacy black bra, and matching thong. Eric caught her hand and slowly turned her back around to face him. His dark eyes ran across her skin, drinking her in. She fought her natural instinct to cover herself, remembering who she was in Eric’s presence, how he’d given her the confidence to show off her body in a way she never had before. She’d always been so self-conscious, thought of herself as being too small, too curvy. It had taken all of her self-control to act the way she had in front of Eric in order to get the job as his model. She’d known who he was, known he’d need someone who was comfortable with her body. The way she’d acted that first day, just walking across his apartment and stripping off her clothes, had taken every ounce of courage. She always longed to be tall and slender, but Eric didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t seem to mind at all.

He caught her hands and lifted them out from her sides so he could study her. “You look amazing, but you know you’re going to have to lose the underwear.”

The effort she’d made embarrassed her. “Of course, I know that.”

“Allow me.”

Suddenly, she no longer cared about being self-conscious.

He reached around so his arms laced behind her back, his fingers finding the catch of her bra. The motion brought him close to her, her mouth and nose against his throat, her senses swamped in him. With a deft movement, he unclipped the bra and removed it with one hand, dropping it to the floor beside her. Instantly, her nipples responded, tightening at the cool air and the proximity to Eric. Her breath was shallow and fast, her breasts lifting and falling with every gasp.

His eyes raked down her body. “God, you’re beautiful.”

He hooked his thumbs into her panties and slowly rolled them down her thighs, crouching as he did so. She used his shoulder to balance, and stepped out of them. He was still on his knees, his mouth aligned with the little puff of blonde hair she allowed to remain on her mound when she got a wax. His breath heated her sensitive skin, and her shallow breathing became one long inhale as he leaned forward and placed his lips against her lower ones.

Automatically, Anya reached down, her hand lacing in his soft, thick hair. Her eyes squeezed shut as his probing tongue pushed against her folds, licking slowly up and down, opening her to him. His tongue flicked her clit, sending sparks racing through her, and she gave a little whimper.

“Oh, Eric.”

She stood in nothing but her heels. Eric fully dressed in a dark shirt and slacks. He made her feel so wanton. His hands slipped around to clasp her bottom, one cheek in each hand, pulling her closer to his mouth. His tongue delved deep, and her legs began to tremble.

Then he pulled away.

Anya let out an involuntary groan. “No, don’t stop.”

He looked up at her, his mouth slick with her juices, and smiled. “We’re supposed to be working.”

“You’re too cruel.”

Eric got to his feet. “Nah, I’m just getting started.”

She had a sudden urge to taste herself on his mouth. She slid her arm around his neck and pressed herself to him, her breasts crushing against the material of his shirt, the buttons leaving small imprints on her skin. Her mouth found his and she lapped gently at his tongue, tasting her own musky desire. His hands traced light lines on her back, running from her shoulder blades to the dimples at the bottom of her spine. Then he went lower, fingertips dipping between the cleft of her buttocks, to brush gently over her asshole.

She shivered in a mixture of desire and anticipation.

He broke the kiss. “Are you ready for this?” he murmured against her mouth.

She nodded against him.

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