Page 14 of Camera Chemistry
Maggie stands and makes a beeline for her friend. They bow their heads together and speak in hushed tones. I’m unable to move. Still chasing that reckless high, my lip curls up.
She’s a fan of praise?
I reallyama lucky fucking bastard.
NINE
MAGGIE
“I think we have a situation,”I say to Lacey. We’ve tucked ourselves into a private corner, away from the hustle and bustle of the set. I need a second to breathe before we start again.
“What’s going on?”
“Aiden. Aiden is the situation. I’m flirting with him. Willingly. And I’m letting him flirt with me, too.”
“The audacity.” Lacey gasps in fake horror, a hand flying over her mouth. “A single woman flirting with a man? I’ve never heard of such a scandalous thing in my life. They’ll hang you in the town square for public indecency.”
“You’re the worst.” I groan, taking a steadying breath. Three big gulps of air in, three out. The meditation does little to slow the staccato beat of my heart or the ache deep in the caverns of my belly.
A good-looking man is something any woman can appreciate. I marvel at firm lines of masculinity and crooked noses, broken in a sports match or on the playground when they were younger. I roam over the ridges of defined muscles, hours spent in the gym. I melt at wicked smirks and playful winks.
Experiencing a physical reaction to the opposite sex without intimate physical contact, though, is new, and Aiden is the catalyst. My underwear is damp, the lace stained with arousal. Under my shirt, my nipples are hard, pebbled from the feel of his thigh under my palm. My fingers itch to run through his hair and hold onto his shoulders, to feel his skin against mine.
“He’s hot, Mags. That much is obvious. He’s clearly into you. Why not have some fun and see what happens?” Lacey asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Keep flirting with him. Get to know him. Ask him questions.”
“I haven’t been this personal with a man in years. And before that, my relationship had been so boring, there was zero chemistry or affection. What if I’m bad at the whole flirting thing?”
“He’s a man. We give the bare minimum, and they eat it up. Speaking of, too bad he’s not eatingyouup. That would fix all your problems.”
Yeah, I think gloomily.Too bad.
“Maggie,” Jeremiah gushes. He takes the position next to Lacey, beaming at me. “I knew I was right in asking you to do this. There’s so much emotion present. A story is unfolding for the lens, which isn’t an easy feat. Walls are coming down. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Jer.”
My gaze drifts to the middle of the room. Aiden is near the bench we previously occupied. His hair is getting combed by a woman who keeps flashing him smiles. He nods politely to the story she’s sharing. As if sensing he’s being watched, his eyes unexpectedly meet mine.
Shit.
I expect him to look away, but he doesn’t break. A heady surge of need spiderwebs through me. I should look away, but I can’t.Heshould look away, but he doesn’t. This goes past a prolonged accidental glance. It’s purposeful, crafted on the desire of wanting to study all his features, and simply wantinghim.
Aiden is the first to break, and I don’t think it’s willingly. He licks his bottom lip and turns his focus back to the oblivious woman. She’s unaware someone else is holding his attention, and a surge of smugness settles over me.
His glance was a definite demonstration of possessiveness. It’s as if he’s staking a claim on me, daring anyone else to snatch me up because I’m undoubtedly his. And…
I like it.
I’ve never been treated like I’m someone’s sole focus. Their highest priority and most sought-after prized possession. I’ve always craved that feeling of consumption. Aiden Wood, a man I’ve known exists for a shorter amount of time than it takes me to get to and from work, has loudly and unequivocally made me feel more wanted, more special in fifteen minutes than others have over half a decade.
A flame kindles at the base of my spine as I stare at his profile. The curve of his chin. The length of his neck and throat that lead to collarbones I’ve never found noteworthy before on a man. On him, though, they’re merciless in their pursuit to neutralize my brain, reducing me to an unintelligent mess.
Keep flirting with him.
Okay. I can do that.
