Page 80 of Faking It

I’m definitely too high on dopamine if my mind is taking things that far. We’re certainly not there yet. Not even close.

Moving toward his desk, I rest my butt against the edge, watching as he powers up his computer, the curved monitor coming to life within seconds. He briefly shows me around his website. Since he’s just starting out, his catalogue is still small, but I’m impressed anyway. Gideon’s got some serious talent.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this,” he mumbles, and before I can ask what he means, Gideon sinks to one knee.

A surprised breath gets caught in my throat, and then I can’t help laughing a few seconds later when he reaches under the desk and pulls out a huge black box.

“Tools of my trade,” he explains while lifting the lid. “Finally, I can show someone what I’ve been up to.”

“What about your mom?” I query, remembering she’s the only one who knows about his photography business. Besides me.

Gideon shakes his head. “She got admitted before I brought these. It’s not the same over a video call.”

He goes on to remove each equipment from the box while explaining how useful they are. It’s interesting to learn there’s actually something called a monopod that he uses to hold his camera whenever he’s shooting a wedding, and I’m now aware of how the lenses and reflectors work, but I’m more intrigued by the light in his eyes than anything else. Gideon is a fantastic actor, but I’ve never seen him so aminated on set. He was made to do this. I’m happy he’s pursuing his dream.

“One question, though,” I say as he snaps a photo of me. “You mentioned your clients not knowing who you are. How did you pull that off, especially with that hair?”

Gideon lifts his eyes from the camera screen. A sheepish grin crosses his face as he inclines his head toward the couch, and I see a dark cap resting there. “Simple. A disguise.”

With a gentle laugh, I walk over to the couch and lift the cap. “But that face of yours. Cap or not, I’d know it anywhere.”

“You’d be surprised to see what a pair of thick-lens glasses can do.”

“Ooh, I’m getting a Clark Kent/Superman vibe.”

He smiles. “Something like that. I should have a selfie in my phone.”

As Gideon dips into his pocket, I sink my body on the couch, sighing as my skin contacts the cool leather. It feels so good to get off my feet for a minute. I cross one leg over the other, my hand resting on my thigh as I relax.

Gideon stops scrolling abruptly, giving me a long stare.

“What?” I ask.

“Hold that pose,” he replies. He lifts the camera, focused eyes locked on mine as he slowly raises it to his face. Rapid clicks go off as he moves in a semi-circle, the camera still trained on me. I keep frozen, wondering what about my simple pose is making him go off like this.

When he takes the camera to me and I see myself, I understand at once. There’s something about how the light hits my face that makes my skin glow. He assures me it’s not a filter. The angle of my face, the sultry look I’m giving, the way my red dress clashes pleasantly with the black leather. It’s picture perfect. A photo that would fit right on the front page of a magazine.

“That’s all you, Ana,” he murmurs.

I shake my head. “It’s not just me. It’s your talent. Few could capture my image like this.”

Gideon smiles and leans in for a quick smooch that surprises me. “You’re right. I just didn’t want to toot my own horn. Thanks for the compliment.”

I burst into a laugh, and he joins in. The pleasant sounds soon subside on a stare down, his eyes filled with the same desire pooling in my belly. His gaze drops to my mouth. I lick my lips, waiting for him to kiss me. Pangs of disappointment flood my core when he straightens, his attention going back to the camera.

There’s no doubt he’s being a gentleman. He’s trying to take things slow. Being patient with me. The thing is, I don’t want him to be patient. Not tonight. From the moment I saw the outline of his cock against his pants, I knew what I wanted. Who I wanted. Sure, we just decided to start dating, but we’re both consenting adults. There’s no timeline to consummating what we have.

“How about another photo?” I ask him. “Let’s outdo that perfection.”

Gideon snorts. “You can’t outdo perfection, Ana.”

I uncross my legs, keeping one bent, the other stretched out. Giving him the sultriest smile that I can muster, I recline, my arms bracing me up. “I’d like to try.”

His skepticism dwindles as he takes me in. Fingers tightening around the camera, he swallows. “What do you have in mind?”

“I don’t know…” My fingers trail lazily to the dress strap. “A little more skin this time, maybe.”

Gideon swallows again as I slowly slip the strap over my shoulder. I ease my arm through the loop, then gracefully rest my hand on my thigh, all this time maintaining eye contact. Repeating the motion, I pull the dress down, my breasts almost spilling. He wets his lips.

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