Page 80 of Dirty Shots

Chapter Twenty-four

Anya

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Eric had been at his desk for hours now, barely hearing her when she’d tried to speak to him, focusing only on his work. He was surrounded in photograph prints and other sheets of paper, some screwed into balls and scattered across the floor. She’d made him coffee first thing and placed the cup on his desk, but it had sat untouched, until she’d replaced it with another hot drink, which had also gone unnoticed. He’d not eaten any breakfast, and she was starting to worry.

Biting down on her nerves, she approached his desk.

“How are you doing, Eric?”

He didn’t even look at her as he spoke. “The images need to be perfect. I only have a couple of days. If we’re going to prove to everyone—Jonathon Turner, fucking Gavin, and even your father—how wrong they are, I need to make sure I get everything right. I don’t want to give them any reason to tear you down, Anya. I won’t let it happen.”

Cautiously, she touched his bare shoulder. He’d managed to put on a pair of low slung workout pants, but that was all he wore. “I know that. I believe in you.”

“I know you do, but at the end of the day, it won’t be your opinion that matters.”

She tried not to feel stung at his words, biting her lower lip. “It’s past lunchtime,” she said, not wanting to start a fight. “Can I make you something to eat?”

He didn’t answer her, so she went to the kitchen and made him a sandwich anyway. His behavior was starting to worry her. She’d never seen him like this.

She suddenly realized what day it was.

Eric had missed his gym session that morning.

She knew he had a lot to think about, but he’d always said how important his workouts were. Was it just that he was busy, or did she have more to worry about?

Anya finished fixing him a sandwich—pastrami on rye—and took it over to him on a plate.

“Hey, I made you something to eat. I don’t think the photographic world is going to fall apart if you take ten minutes for lunch.”

He nodded to a tiny space on his desk, between all the stacks of paper. “Just leave it there. I’ll get to it in a minute.”

She hesitated. “Please Eric. It’s just ten minutes to eat. You need your strength.”

He snapped at her. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

She took a step back. “Yeah, sorry,” she muttered.

Anya stood, staring at the back of his head and chewing her lower lip. She understood that he needed to work, but he also needed to take a break. He needed a distraction, something to release the tension he’d been holding inside since she’d told him about the newspaper article that morning. She wished she hadn’t told him now.

There was one thing Eric had never been able to resist, and that was her. Even when she’d tried to distract him from his gym session a few days ago, he’d still fucked her before he’d left.

Taking a breath, she rounded the front of his desk. She wore a loose dress which was buttoned down the front. Standing in front of him, she slowly undid each of the buttons.

Eric’s gaze flicked up to her. “What are you doing, Anya?”

She gave a coy shrug. “Nothing. I just suddenly got really, really hot.”

As she said the word ‘hot’ she slipped the dress from her shoulders and allowed it to fall to the floor, so she stood in only her pink lace bra and matching panties.

His eyes went back to his work, and then darted back to her. Sensing she’d finally captured his attention, she reached behind her back and undid the clip of her bra. She shrugged the bra from her shoulders and allowed it to join the dress on the floor.

Tilting her head to one side and smiling at him shyly, she ran her hands over her breasts, cupping them as she massaged herself, pushing her tits together. She pinched her nipples between her fingers, teasing them into hardened points.

“Anya ...” Eric growled a warning.

She swiped her tongue over her lower lip, wetting the plump flesh, and then bit it gently. She was winning! She finally had his attention.

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