Page 19 of Dirty Shots

Chapter Seven

Anya

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The next day, Anya stood outside Eric’s buildingand schooled her face into that of the self-assured woman of the world she aspired to be. She reached out and pressed the button for his apartment.

His voice came through the speaker, dark and sexy. “Come on up.”

She loved that he’d not even asked who was at the door, knowing it would be her. Anya let herself think that meant there was no one else, but she had no idea if he was photographing any other women, never mind sleeping with them. He didn’t seem like the type of man to be dating several women at once, but really, what did she know? Perhaps his reluctance to have sex with her initially had nothing to do with his preference for keeping his professional and personal life separate, and everything to do with a girlfriend he had hidden away somewhere.

The door buzzed open, and she caught the elevator up to his apartment. When the doors slid open, he was already standing in the open doorway to his place, leaning in a relaxed stance against the frame, his arms folded, one foot hooked over the other ankle. The sight of him sent a jolt through her. Immediately, the image of him binding rope around her bare breasts filled her head.

Eric smiled, his eyes lighting as they settled on her. “Anya.” He straightened and stepped toward her and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. His five o’clock shadow grated as his lips met her skin, and the scent of him sent a thrill through her. “You look beautiful, as always.”

She brushed off the compliment, not knowing what to say without appearing to agree with him. Instead she said, “I’m looking forward to what you have planned for me this evening.”

His eyes twinkled. “You think I plan these things? And there was me thinking this was all spontaneous.”

“What? Ankle spreaders and handcuffs can spontaneously appear?”

He chuckled. “Okay, you may have a point.”

She swept into his apartment, pulling her coat from her shoulders. Whenever she was seeing Eric she always made an effort with her clothes. She didn’t want him to think of her as some penniless student.

She glanced around. The blackout blinds on the floor to ceiling windows had been pulled down, and the far corner of the apartment, where Eric had his studio set up, was brightly lit. On the other side of the lighting props, she spotted a box which she knew contained many of Eric’s toys for photographing her—ropes, handcuffs, gags, spreader bars—and she was sure some toys he’d not yet introduced her to. That was the exciting part.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he offered, following her into the apartment and closing the door behind them.

“Dry white wine, if you’ve got it.”

He headed toward the kitchen area, reaching onto a shelf to take down a couple of expensive looking wine glasses, and then opened a special chilled wine rack with a glass front and selected a bottle. “Sauvignon Blanc?”

She nodded and smiled. “Lovely.”

Anya wished she wasn’t so nervous. Before tonight, she’d known her place in Eric’s apartment, throwing herself into the role of his model so she didn’t have any time or space to doubt herself. Now, after Eric had stepped over that line between personal and professional, she sensed the relationship between them had changed. No longer could she cling to the cool and aloof persona she had tried to wear. Her heart longed to reach out to him, to allow him to see her for the person she really was. When she’d left his apartment the previous night, it was with soft kisses and promises to return the next day. Now she was here, she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be here as a date, or simply as his model again. The uncertainty made her anxious, and she hated feeling like she wasn’t in control.

Eric walked back over to her, a glass in each hand, and passed one to her. The cold of the wine had already chilled the glass, causing condensation to moisten the outside. She longed to touch him, or for him to touch her. There seemed to be a gulf between them that hadn’t existed last night, and she just wanted to place them back into that intimacy, that moment. Had something happened she wasn’t aware of?

“Eric,” she started. “About last night—”

He held up his free hand. “Oh no, there’s no need for you to say anything. I crossed a line I shouldn’t have crossed, Anya. I’m sorry about that.”

She studied his face, her stomach dropping. “You are?”

“I mean, I’m not sorry about what happened. But I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you.”

“Eric, you didn’t take advantage of me. I’m pretty sure I made what I wanted perfectly clear.”

“But you were tied up. You couldn’t move.”

“I know. That’s what made it all the more sexy.”

Something in his face darkened.

“What is it?” she asked.

He gave his head a slight shake. “When I was thinking about what happened, I started to worry that I had taken things too far, or that I misunderstood what you said to me. In the position you were in, you wouldn’t have been able to do anything to stop me.”

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