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Click. Click. He snaps a couple of shots.
“Don’t call me Click if you want to take pictures of my ass, Damien.” I scowl at him, but it’s playful. I know he means no harm by calling me by my nickname. He doesn’t understand how the association works in my head. It’s a me thing, not a him thing.
Click.
He looks at me momentarily bewildered, as if putting two and two together for the first time. “Click in the streets, Gia in the sheets. Noted.”
I try not to laugh and fail, snorting through my nose. That’s not going to be cute on film.
Click.
“Ass.”
He’s not wrong, though. So very not wrong at all.
Click.
“Speaking of cute asses. Yours looks delectable this evening.”
I arch my back ever so slightly more with his praise.
“Just like that.” Click. “Okay, now take your thong off and lay back on the pillows this time.”
He licks his lips, and my eyes voluntarily follow the movement. There’s something sensual that I didn’t expect about doing this with him. It’s outside of my comfort zone, being on this side of the camera, but surprisingly, I don’t hate it, not with Damien. It feels special. I feel sexy.
I slide my thong off as directed, and toss it at him playfully, getting more and more comfortable the longer we do this. He catches it with the reflexes you would expect from a professional hockey player, bringing it up to his nose and inhaling deeply before tossing it down on the foot of the bed.
The sniffing was not expected, but, oddly, I like it. I’ve known this man my entire life. I know almost everything about him. But, in the bedroom? It’s like we’ve never met. He surprises me at every turn, and the unpredictability is such a turn-on.
“You want me like this?”
I scoot back against the pillows, sitting upright, but leaning back ever so slightly. I bend my legs at the knee and prop my feet up on top of the comforter, giving him a better angle for the shot I know he’s trying to get.
There’s a fire burning in his eyes as he watches me behind the camera. “Spread your legs a little more, open up for me baby.”
I do as I’m told, dropping my knees open and spreading my legs for him.
“Perfect. So damn perfect, Gia.”
He’s a voyeur, watching me perform for him. Anticipation begins to hum in my veins. I feel him touching me through the lens of the camera alone.
I will never look at my camera the same way again.
“You’re amazing, Gia.”
I reach up and take one of my breasts in my hands. I squeeze my nipple between my fingers and feel the zap of electricity between my thighs as if it were Damien’s touch and not my own.
“What are you going to do with these photos, Damien?” My curiosity finally getting the best of me.
He pulls the camera down from his face and looks me dead in the eyes before answering. “They’re for me. Only me.”
I nod my understanding, before tossing back my head and running my hand down my abdomen slowly, creating a trail to where my clit is already pulsing with need. I allow a soft moan to escape from my lips.
Hockey players travel a lot. They spend many nights alone in their hotel rooms with a ton of pent-up adrenaline and nowhere for it to go. Video chat isn’t always an option. Especially when you have a tyrant of a two-year-old running around. I get it.
I won’t let my insecurities creep in and ruin this for me.
He only wants me. He wants my body. I’ve never felt so desired.
