Page 43 of Dirty Shots

Her eyes darted to him, and then back to Eric. Was he serious?

But the smug smirk she’d expected to see on Logan’s face didn’t exist. He was as nonchalant as if he’d just suggested they get take out together. How was Eric taking his suggestion? She’d expect any other man to leap across the table and slug Logan in the face for suggesting he be the erection in erotic photographs with her, but Eric just gave a slight nod.

“Thanks, Logan. Obviously Anya would need to agree to that, too, but it would make a fantastic shoot.”

She gulped and resisted the urge to fan herself. Was it getting hot in here? To hide her embarrassment and the fact she was more than slightly turned on, she picked up her glass and took a large gulp. The wine caught in her throat, and she coughed, spraying some of it out before she managed to get a hand over her mouth. She ended up half choking as she stood from the table, and pointed randomly at what she hoped was the ladies’ room. She tried to ignore the matching expressions of bemusement from both men as she staggered from the table.

Anya managed to cough and choke her way into the bathroom where she stopped in front of the bank of sinks and tried to compose herself. She dropped her head, staring at the bowl of the sink. Had Logan seriously just offered to be her male model while Eric took photographs?

She couldn’t stop the thrill of excitement racing through her. To have Logan Blanc’s naked body pressed against hers while Eric watched, to perhaps feel his fingers against her clit, maybe even his cock pressed against her back, his lips on her skin. She wanted to do it more than anything anyone had offered her before.

But what about Eric? Was he really not jealous in any way about the introduction of another man into their shoots? She couldn’t even imagine how she’d feel if he asked her to photograph him with another woman ... actually, yes, she could. She’d be screaming and smashing up things, while sobbing her heart out, and possibly clawing the other woman’s face. Psycho, perhaps? But wasn’t that the sort of reaction most people would have? She couldn’t help but worry if Eric’s lack of reaction was simply because he didn’t care about her. The thing that had always worried her plagued her once again.

Did Eric see her only as his model? Was she no more than a prop to him?

She bit down on her emotions.

After all, didn’t the idea of Logan’s hands and mouth against her body make her hot? Surely that gave her no right to judge Eric, then?

Her teeth dug into her lower lip. God, why did this have to be so damn complicated?

Anya washed her hands and patted a little cold water on her cheeks and forehead, careful not to ruin her makeup. She forced a calm smile onto her face, and practiced appearing cool and serene for a moment. Her heart had regained its normal pace, though being away from the company of Eric and Logan had helped that. As long as they didn’t start discussing erotic positions, she would be fine.

She left the bathroom and walked back out into the bar. Logan and Eric were finishing up their drinks, chatting together and laughing easily, as if the last conversation had never happened.

Eric turned to her as she approached. “Are you ready to go home yet, Anya?”

Did he mean her home, or his? “Umm, I guess so.”

His eyes were focused on her intently. “I’m not talking about your dorm.”

She couldn’t help the grin that flashed on her face. “Oh, right. Then yes, I am.”

Perhaps she shouldn’t be going home with him. After all, she had a lot of thinking to do about what she was going to tell her parents—if she was going to tell them at all—and she knew being with Eric would only cloud her judgment.

You’ve already decided, haven’t you?

Had she? Was she really going to tell her parents she’d been modeling for Eric Rutherford?

Anya reached out and lifted her glass from the table, taking a final sip before leaving the rest. Eric placed a protective hand at the base of her spine as they walked from the bar, Logan leading the way. She was more than aware of all the curious and jealous glances she received as they made their way through the crowded bar. A few people whispered behind their hands and nodded in their direction. She doubted many would recognize Eric—he was more of a recluse—but plenty of people, especially women, knew exactly who Logan Blanc was.

They walked out into the cool evening air. Anya pulled her coat tighter around her body.

Logan stepped toward her and leaned in, placing a kiss against her cheek. The waft of his aftershave filled her senses, and the smoothness of his skin pressed, cheek to cheek. A fire raced though her at his contact, making every nerve ending zing. Did he linger a moment longer than necessary? She thought so, but perhaps she was imaging things.

“It was lovely to meet you, Anya. You are everything Eric described and more.”

She blushed, the heat that had been coursing through her seeming to settle in her cheeks and between her thighs. “You, too, Logan.”

“I hope you’ll make the right decision. Even if things are hard with your parents initially, I’m sure things will calm down. And Eric and I are here to support you.”

You are?

“Thanks,” she said, unsure what else she could say.

He turned to Eric and stuck out a hand. “Let me know as soon as you can. We’ve got plenty of things to organize, assuming this all goes ahead.”

Anya tried not to feel pressured by his words, and failed.

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