Page 7 of Dirty Shots

Chapter Three

Anya

“Ms. Rhinne? Are we boringyou?”

Startled, Anya realized she’d been daydreaming, her gaze locked on the clock positioned above the doors of the lecture hall. Her head snapped back around to the front to discover most of the other students turned in their seats and staring at her.

She forced a bright smile. “No, of course not, Professor Wright.”

Her lecturer turned back to his slides, the other students losing interest in her. Anya tried to make herself focus, but her mind kept drifting to thoughts of Eric Rutherford and the session they’d spent together. She pressed her thighs together, a tingling flush of heat racing from between her legs and tightening at her core. Being photographed by Eric Rutherford was the sexiest thing she’d ever done in her life.

She’d struggled to act as cool as she had. The ad attracted her with the promise of a chance of earning a few extra dollars to help her with tuition fees. Her heart had almost stopped when Eric Rutherford opened the door, all floppy dark hair and brooding eyes, though she’d done her best to conceal her reaction. When he offered her the job, she needed to stop herself hopping up and down and clapping her hands in glee. She’d known who Eric Rutherford was ever since her late teens when he broke into the art world with his black and white portrait photography of old men and women, somehow capturing both their strength and their fragility with his work. He’d been like a young rock star of the art scene, bursting onto it to have every spotlight turned on him, only to fall from grace spectacularly with some kind of breakdown he described in interviews only as his ‘dark days.’

But she had a feeling Eric wouldn’t have thought much of her if she showed herself to be some kind of pathetic groupie, so she’d played it cool. She kept her mouth shut and literally laid herself bare for him.

Now she found herself obsessed with thoughts of the photographer. The minutes dragged by, painfully slow, and she wished she could go to sleep to make the time go faster, only to be woken in time to make her next meeting with Eric.

Anya tried to focus on what Professor Wright, her lecturer of fine art, was saying, but even though she loved her major, she struggled to pick apart his words to make coherent sentences. Everything he said seemed to be a drone.

Finally, the lecturer closed his laptop and called an end to class. Anya breathed a sigh of relief and began to gather her belongings, shutting down her own laptop and pushing it into her bag. Eric was expecting her in the next hour, and she wanted to make it back to her room and freshen up before heading over to his place.

She trotted down the steps, toward the stage the lecturer had been speaking from, and headed out into the corridor, joining the river of students which flowed down the hall. Someone stepped into pace with her, and she glanced over to find Gavin Hollis, the college’s football star, walking beside her. Instantly, she bristled, her head snapping away to focus on the hall ahead. She hoped if she pretended he wasn’t there, he might just go away.

He didn’t.

“Hey, Anya. Where you going?”

“What is it to you?”

He walked with his chest pushed out, like a proud peacock, and spoke too loudly, as if hoping everyone else would hear. “I wondered what you were doing later. Me and a couple of the guys are throwing a party at the house. You wanna come?”

She cocked an eyebrow. “You know I don’t date college guys, Gavin. Go hit on someone else.”

“Aww, Anya.” He motioned up and down his body with his hand. “You know you want some of this.”

She snorted in derision.

He dropped back a pace, allowing her to walk on, but a mocking laugh followed her. “You won’t be able to control yourself forever.”

She ignored him. She’d never been interested in any of the guys at college. They all seemed like boys to her—only interested in making an impression on their friends, never a thought for the women they conquered. She had no intention of letting one of these boys paw over her like an overeager puppy, only to report back every detail, and probably add some untruths of their own, to their friends. Her sights were set much higher.

Crossing campus, Anya headed up to her room to grab her towel and wash bag. She wanted to make sure her skin was silky smooth before she met with Eric. It was important that when he photographed her she was as perfect as possible. Yes, things could easily be blended away with Photoshop these days, but she didn’t want Eric to feel he needed to do such things. The images should not be her enemy, reminding Eric of all the imperfections she knew she had.

She pushed open the door to her room to find her roommate, Nadine, lying on her bed on her stomach. She was looking down at her tablet, smiling at something she was watching online, but glanced up as Anya entered.

Nadine propped herself up on her side and flipped her long, dark hair away from her face. “Hey, stranger. Any chance you’re staying around this evening? There’s a big party. Everyone is going.”

Anya shook her head. “Sorry, sweetie. I’m going out.”

Her eyes went wide. “Ooh! You’re seeing this mysterious guy again, aren’t you?”

Anya opened her mouth, but her roommate waved her down. “No, no. Don’t say anything. Let me guess. He’s married, isn’t he?”

She laughed. “I hope not!”

“Okay, he’s seriously ugly and you’re too embarrassed to be seen in public with him.”

The image of his high cheekbones, deep brown eyes, and shock of dark hair sprang to mind. She shook her head. “Not a chance.”

“Who is he, then? I can’t believe you’re not telling me.”

She grabbed her wash bag. “I need to go and get ready. Mind your own business for once!”

Her friend’s voice chased her out. “Not going to happen!”

Thankfully, she found the bathroom empty. Anya took a shower and then shaved, waxed, plucked, and moisturized every inch of her skin. She sprayed herself lightly with her fragrance, Shalimar by Guerlain, and then applied a little makeup. She’d gotten the impression Eric liked it when her face appeared innocent, a contrast to the positions he photographed her in.

Instead of heading back to her room to get ready, she stayed in the bathroom, wanting to avoid Nadine’s line of enquiry. She didn’t want anyone else knowing about what she was doing with Eric. She worried about it getting back to her straight-laced family, though no one at the college had ever met her family or probably ever would. It was too easy for news like this to spread like wildfire. Especially with social media. If people discovered Eric Rutherford was photographing her in explicit poses, she would never be able to walk through campus again without someone firing comments at her.

Her life wouldn’t be worth living.

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