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“Really?” Something suddenly lights up behind Emma’s eyes, like a light turned on somewhere inside her.
“Really. A lot actually. It seems since our tryst on the flower petals, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. How crazy is that?” One good smack and the shutter finally pops smoothly back into place.
“Very crazy. Honestly, it’s been a wild start to the week,” Emma replies. Her teeth snag lightly on her lower lip as she takes the camera back. “You really are good with your hands, huh?”
“Oh, you have no idea.” This close, the sweet scent of her jasmine perfume soaks into my skin. I want to bathe in it. Have my clothes soaked in the scent so I can always be reminded of her.
“Well…” There’s a slight purr to her tone, but before she can continue, the door to her room opens, and a voluptuous woman pokes her head out.
“Any luck, doll?”
“Yes, actually.” Emma turns to her with a bright smile. “All fixed, thanks to Asher.”
“Well, thank you.” The woman grins at me. “You here to keep an eye on things?”
“Oh, no.” Emma chuckles. “I’m sure Asher?—”
“Actually,” I interrupt gently. “I wouldn’t mind observing. I don’t tend to photograph people so I admit, I’m curious. Would that be alright?”
Emma glances between me and her client. “Only if you’re comfortable?”
“Sure!” The woman laughs deeply. “Some eye candy might bring out my inner sex goddess.” With a hearty chuckle, she heads back inside.
Emma turns to me, her cheeks flushed pink. “Are you sure?”
“Mostly I just want an excuse to spend some time with you,” I admit. “But I am always open to learning.”
Emma’s blush deepens and a cheeky twinkle glints in her eye. “Alright. Let me teach you a thing or two.”
I’ve spent my years pouring hours and hours into my passion behind the camera, but watching Emma work, I felt like I was a student all over again. Within minutes, she had put her model at complete ease and set to work, and the pictures were gorgeous. Her use of light to catch and highlight curves while keeping an air of mystery completely enthralled me, and I spent the next few hours in awe, watching her work. Half the time, I became distracted by how she moved around her studio. How she bent and leaned and curved her way around like brush strokes capturing a work of art.
I was very disappointed when it was over.
“Well?” She looks up at me, one hand on her laptop as she finishes going through all the pictures.
“You have a really good eye,” I reply, unable to hide my smile. The eagerness for my approval in her eyes just drives my need for her all the higher. I don’t know why she’s so under my skin. Never has a woman consumed me so quickly. I’m a willing spark falling into her flames and just hoping for another touch of her warmth.
“You really think so?” Emma tilts her head. “You don’t think I go overboard with the shadows?”
“No, I don’t.” Placing my hand over hers, I scroll until I locate my favorite picture. “Honestly, the work you do is for your client so as long as they are happy, nothing else matters. But this? Not only are you creating art, you’re bringing out an inner beauty that only you see, and presenting it to these people as wholesome truths. Reminders for when the head demons might get too loud.”
Emma studies my face for a long moment, then she drives her elbow lightly into my ribs with a gentle scoff.
“You’re just saying pretty things because you want into my pants again.”
“You wound me.” One hand presses against my chest in faux pain. “I would never lie about something we’re both so passionate about.”
“Ah, so you don’t want into my pants?” She lifts one brow and a teasing smile graces her lips.
“I didn’t say that.” Catching her chin, I tilt her head up and force her focus onto me. “But, how about we get some coffee?”
Emma’s smile softens. “I’d like that.”
Half an hour later, we stroll back from the coffee place with cups in hand. Emma walks beside me, often bumping lightly into me as we walk, but I don’t mind in the slightest. I want her to be as close as she can, and out in public like this, there’s also the subtle thrill of knowing I’m breaking a shit ton of rules.
“So,” Emma begins after a sip. “We bumped into each other and I learned you were a teacher, but you never told me what it is you do?”
“Oh, well I’m a professor of horticultural.”
