I WOKE UP TO the insistent beeping of my cell chirping at me from some far corner of the room. Still groggy, I followed the noise to behind the rocking chair and located the damn thing under the lobster pillow that had been chucked the night before. I punched at it, silencing it, and crawled back under the covers. I stretched, yawning, feeling a well-used achiness in certain muscles, and then I froze with realization.
I was alone.
I looked around. His clothes were missing. Water wasn’t running in the bathroom. Puzzled, I crept over to the window and pulled the curtain aside to peek. No truck. He was gone.
I collapsed back on the bed again, not sure how I felt about that. Had I really expected him to stick around for the awkward morning after? He was doing us both a favor by disappearing. That way, when we bumped into each other next time, we could both kind of pretend this little one-night stand never happened and keep things casual. Easy.
Just like I wanted.
And yet, I couldn’t help the little frisson of disappointment I felt at not waking up in his arms. Getting one last kiss.
Especially after last night’s epic orgasms.
Turning, I buried my head in the pillow and inhaled. I could still smell him. I wondered how long it would last if I didn’t clean my sheets. One night? A week? I could see now why Rue always went back to the guy’s place. My bed was awash with memories of West and me tangled together. There was no way I wouldn’t be thinking about it when I went to bed tonight. Alone.
I pulled my phone out and checked it. One text from Theo, reminding me of our gym date at ten. I groaned in annoyance. I’d forgotten about that. Granted, we’d moved the time back from seven to ten, but still. I just wanted to lay here and do nothing for a couple hours.
Except maybe daydream about last night.
Dragging myself out of bed, I took a shower and brushed my teeth, moving sluggishly through my morning routine. Throwing on some gym clothes, I glared at my phone when it told me I didn’t have enough time to make coffee or I’d be late. Theo was just going to have to take me au naturale this morning. Poor guy.
Peeking into Rue’s room and finding the bed empty, I sent her a quick text to make sure she was okay as I ran down the front steps. She texted me back as I buckled in.
Rue: Weird tattoo on his thigh—Popeye, really?—but he found my g-spot, so I’ll try to ignore it. I’ll be home later. I may let him find it again first.
I couldn’t help but laugh. Rue sure knew how to pick ’em. At least she’d remembered the rule and gone back to, well, wherever he was staying so she wouldn’t be haunted by spinach-eating sailors tonight.
I parked next to Theo’s beater at the gym and trudged inside with zero enthusiasm. He was already plodding away on an elliptical, so I grabbed the one next to him. I matched my pace to his, grateful that he was going more snail than rabbit this morning, and squinted over at him. He gave a tired nod, and I dipped my chin in return. Thank God he wasn’t feeling chatty.
Thirty minutes later, Theo called time. We both looked over at the weight area and back at each other.
“Nope. Not today.” I shook my head. “Not without caffeine in me.”
He looked relieved. “Krispy Kreme?”
“God, yes,” I agreed, desperate for some coffee and sugar.
Twenty minutes later, we were settled on the beach with a box of glazed nestled between us, and each of us clutching the largest coffee Krispy Kreme sold. Holding my coffee in one hand, I pried loose a doughnut with the other, taking a huge bite and closing my eyes in absolute bliss.
He polished off his own in record time and sipped his coffee. “You know, today’s workout won’t even burn off one of these bad boys.”
I shot him a devilish smile. “Last night’s will.”
Theo choked on his coffee. “You realize I saw you leave with West, right?”
I faltered for a moment and then shrugged. “And?”
“And I totally distracted Boone for you while you slipped out.”
I froze. “What did you say?”
“I didn’t say anything. Just that I hadn’t seen you in awhile and that you were probably still dancing.”
I twisted my lips. I didn’t want to lead Boone on, but I guess I wouldn’t have wanted it rubbed in his face that I had left with someone else. I nodded in thanks.
“Yeah, you’re welcome. Do you feel better at least? You’ve been uptight for the last two weeks.” Theo regarded me steadily.
I rolled my shoulders. The sugar and coffee were beginning to seep into my system, perking me up. And I did feel better. Looser. More relaxed. I tried to hide my smile. My voice was softer this time. “Yeah. I do.” Turning to Theo, I pinned him with an assessing look. “What about you? Did you have any luck last night?”
Theo’s eyes sparkled, and he turned to look back at the waves. He took a long, slow drag of coffee before he answered, gloating. “Yup. A redhead. A real redhead.” He held up his fist, and I bumped it.
“Wait. What do you mean, a real redhead? How do you—” I shut up when I figured out what he’d been implying. I shook my head, trying to rid my mind of the image. “So, you going to see her again?”
“Why? I’ve already had first, seconds, and thirds.”
I rolled my eyes. “Boys.” When I turned to scowl at him on behalf of womankind, he shoved a doughnut in my mouth and effectively silenced anything else I had to say.
Before I could finish chewing, Theo grabbed one last pastry and jumped up. “All right, I gotta get back to the gym for a client. I’ll see you Tuesday, usual time. Next time, we are not skipping weights. Be ready.” He pointed at me for emphasis.
“Wait! I can’t eat all these!” I gestured at the box still sitting next to me as he jogged away.
“Feed the gulls!” he suggested, halfway back to the boardwalk.
Uh, no. I was not giving those pesky creatures perfectly good doughnuts. After nibbling my way through one more and draining my coffee, I headed back to my Jeep, taking the box with me. If Rue didn’t want them, maybe I could look up recipes online. I’d heard there was a good bread pudding recipe that called for day old Krispy Kremes.
AFTER DAWDLING AT the cottage as long as I could, I headed out to Aubrey’s. This time, I’d dressed in head-to-toe black, trying to look the part of a professional photographer. My hair was twisted into a low bun, and I wore light makeup, a silky black top, and cigarette pants. Not real exciting, but then, I already knew today’s shoot was going to be all about Aubrey Perotti.
Her family’s old, plantation-style house with its large, white columns in the front didn’t faze me. The fact that Aubrey opened the door wearing only a short, silky robe over lingerie didn’t surprise me either. But the genuine smile of delight Aubrey greeted me with threw me for a loop. I’d expected her to be more cool, more calculating, the whole afternoon more of a business transaction.
“You came!” she exclaimed, reaching out to clasp both my hands in both of hers.
I raised my eyebrows. Of course I came. I’d been half-threatened, half-blackmailed about the consequences if I didn’t. I forced a smile back, unsure of how to react. Had I misjudged her the other day? “For you, of course I did.”
If she caught my slight sarcasm, she didn’t let on. Instead, she hurried me through the showpiece of a house and up to the third floor. By elevator. I tried not to be impressed, but damn it, who has an elevator in their beach house? Her room, well, her suite of rooms, was in a rounded part of the house, kind of like a lighthouse, or a turret. Aubrey literally lived like a freaking princess in a tower. Her bedroom was light and gauzy with antique furniture, authentic I was sure, and heavy moldings.
Aubrey drew me to a little alcove off to the side. “I’ve got some ideas. I mean, I’m sure you know what you’re doing and all, but I wanted to make sure we were on the same page.” She was as excited as a little girl playing dress up. I started to feel guilty for judging her so quickly.
She pulled up a Pinterest board she’d made, and I reviewed the photos. They were all sultry without crossing over into sleazy, and I got the feel for the general vibe she was going for. She’d done her eye makeup dark and dramatic, and her hair was in big, sexy, loose curls. She was styled perfectly for what I had in mind.
“We’ll shoot it so it’s all about the tease. For you, I’m thinking black and white. Make it more classic and sophisticated. High-end editorial style.” I saw her eyes light up at the end. Bingo! Nailed it. “Let me see what you were thinking of for clothes.”
Nine outfits were displayed in her dressing room. Yes, her dressing room. As in, a separate room from her closet with a settee and a big, round ottoman and even a little mini fridge, all done in pale Parisian pink and black. “You like?”
I looked over the ensembles with a critical eye. Classic men’s white dress shirt, yes. Oversized, chunky v-neck fisherman’s sweater, yes. The other choices all consisted of lace, satin, mesh, and feathers.
Feathers?
“There’s too much going on in some of these lingerie sets,” I said. “The focus needs to be on you. Your skin, your curves, and maybe even your hair, but not so much on the clothes. They’re more background. You’re the main attraction.”
She nodded, digesting my words. “I like the way you think.” She moved through the lingerie options and tossed all but two in a pile. She kept one black and one white. “We’ll use these. Angel and devil.”
I had to force myself not to comment on that last part. It was just too easy. “All right, so let’s get down to the details. How much do you want to show? What are you comfortable with?”
She’d clearly already thought this all through. “From the back, everything is fine. From the front, underwear down below, and as long as no nipples show up top, I’m good.”
I set my bag down and pulled out my camera, all business now. “Let’s start with the men’s white button down. Nothing underneath. And I want you to pin your hair up high, so we can see your neck for these first shots. Just pin it up quick so it’s messy and haphazard. And throw on whatever music makes you feel sexy. I need you to be as relaxed as possible for this.”
Aubrey smiled, seemingly delighted, and clapped her hands together in glee. “This is going to be so fun!” While she sat at her dressing table to fix her hair, she nodded at the mini fridge. “It’s fully stocked, so feel free to help yourself.”
I went over to see what she had. Soda, fresh fruit juice, water, even tiny bottles of liquor. I chose a bottle of orange juice. “Can I get you anything?” I offered.
She crossed over to me, grabbed the tiny bottle of Bacardi, and tossed it back. “You wanted me loose, right? This should help.” She lifted one shoulder in a shrug, and the robe slipped down her arm.
While she changed, I moved around her bedroom, checking the lighting from various angles. In front of the windows would be good for these first shots. With the light shining through the shirt, her curves would be visible as shadows beneath. I dragged a chair out of the way. Better.
The bass thumped loudly, and I jumped, startled by the volume. Ray J’s “Sexy Can I” blared from a hidden sound system, filling the air with its playful vibe and talk about a Kodak moment. I grinned at Aubrey as she shimmied her way into the room, holding the shirt closed at her breasts. “Perfect song, right?” She smiled back.
“It is,” I agreed, pulling the camera up to my eye. “Just dance around there for a bit, if you want. Do what feels natural. Let’s just see what happens before we start doing actual poses.”
She moved to the small open space beside the window and kept the beat with her hips. She faced away from me and raised her hands above her head, causing the shirt to rise up, allowing a glimpse of her butt cheek. I snapped off a few shots and tried to direct her a little. “Look over your shoulder at the camera every once in a while. Keep it flirty. Pretend I’m the hottest guy you’ve ever seen.”
She danced around a little more until the song ended. Then I started working her through some specific poses: Facing away from me and letting the shirt fall to her elbows, exposing her upper back. Extending her arms out and holding the window frame, so the shirt fell around her and the sunlight shone through, leaving her silhouette outlined underneath. Profile shots looking out the window. Some sitting on the window frame, one long, shapely leg propped up opposite her.
She changed into the fisherman’s sweater, and Shaggy’s “Boombastic” kicked in. I lowered the camera, feeling lulled into a sense of camaraderie. So far, Aubrey had been nothing but cooperative and enthusiastic. Now I just felt like a bitch for my earlier misgivings. “Shaggy’s awesome. I wonder what ever happened to him? Do you have any more of his stuff?” I was surprised to find myself enjoying the shoot.
Aubrey nodded and adjusted her playlist so a few more Shaggy songs would play next. For this look, I had her unpin her hair so the curls hid most of her face. Letting the sweater droop off one shoulder, baring it and the top curve of her breast, she tugged the sweater down between her legs, as if trying to modestly hide herself. I took shots of that pose from several angles, knowing the contrast of her shiny hair and smooth skin against the rough weave of the sweater was going to look great on film. I had her crawl across the bed toward me, with the sweater still hanging off one shoulder, and from the angle in front of her, the low v-neck allowed a view of her cleavage and flat stomach, depending how she moved.
We took a short break after that, and I showed Aubrey some of my raw footage so far, just to make sure we were still on the same wavelength. She looked at each picture critically, as if she were viewing a stranger and not herself. A sense of uneasiness crept over me as I waited for her verdict. “You look beautiful,” I said truthfully. “What we’ve got so far is fantastic. Is this what you were thinking of when we started?”
She looked at me, her eyes big and guileless. “No. It’s so much better. You’ve somehow made it so erotic and yet, sweet.”
“Wait ’til I get it all edited. It’ll look even better. Softer, more intimate.” I was pleased with my work so far and knew it would be some of the best I’d done in awhile. The stuff I’d done of Cody was adorable, but kid’s shoots were easier in the sense that every parent already thought their kid was the cutest thing ever. Making a grown woman like photos of herself was a whole different bag of tricks.
Aubrey went to change again while I hummed along to Shaggy’s “Luv Me, Luv Me,” and I couldn’t help but giggle when Aubrey reentered the room to the opening bars of Akon’s “Smack That.” She’d put on the black lingerie. “All right, for this next section, I just want you to roll around the bed looking sexy, and I’ll move around you and shoot it. Move through some poses slowly, and try to keep your movements soft and feline. Slinky. And remember to keep your face either innocent or like you’re thinking really, really dirty thoughts. Try not to let it go blank. You’ll just come across as looking bored, which is not what we’re going for here.”
Aubrey lolled against a mountain of white, frilly pillows and sucked on her fingertip while looking at me out of the side of her eyes. Perfect. She tangled her hands up in her hair then ran them down the side of her body, eyeing the camera. Next, she rolled until she lay on her back across the bed, propped up on her elbows with her knees bent, arching her back upwards. She let her head drop back until her neck was stretched and exposed, and I said, “Hold that,” as I moved to shoot her from both head on and at a forty-five degree angle. Then, I kicked off my shoes and climbed up on a chair off to the side and captured the same pose from overhead, careful to keep my shadow from entering the picture.
As I got down, Aubrey looked at my foot. “Nice tattoo. What’s it for?”
I glanced at my tattoo, the little paper airplane with the dotted line behind it indicating it had done a loop. “You know, it was supposed to be a metaphor. Life’s about the journey, not the destination, some crap like that. I thought it was deep and philosophical when I got it.” Another lie. The truth was private.
Aubrey smiled and nodded like she understood and then shifted her body again, showing off her hourglass figure.
After I gave her the signal that I’d gotten those shots, Aubrey sat up straight. I had her tilt her head forward so her hair cascaded over her breasts, and I shot some close-ups of just her torso showcased by her black lace balconette bra.
“Okay, now, if you feel comfortable, I’d suggest removing your bra, and I’ll get some of your bare back and of you from the front with your arms covering your chest.”
She hesitated. “You’re sure this isn’t going to start looking . . .”
“Trashy? No, not if I do my job right. But it’s up to you. What we’ve got so far is great if you want to stop there.”
She bit her lip and went to unfasten the bra.
“Wait! Do it slowly and let me shoot that too.”
I stood behind her and clicked a quick succession of photos as her hands twisted behind her and unclasped the hooks. She flung the bra to the floor out of sight and leaned her back one way and then the other, peeking over her shoulder at the camera coquettishly. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d fluttered her eyelashes. She seemed to be getting into the role. I could imagine her fitting the whole cliché of lady-in-the-streets-and-a-freak-in-the-bed. Somehow, I didn’t think Aubrey had a problem with kinky. Without any cues at all, she laid on her back, one arm across her chest, her hips twisted to the side so it wasn’t a full on frontal shot, and, of course, her hair fell in perfect disarray above her head. She lifted her other arm above her, letting it settle in her hair. I did my job, capturing the tableau before me of a curvy young woman inviting someone to join her in bed, her face conveying her utter confidence, as if she knew—and expected the person viewing her to know—exactly what would happen next. As an Usher song faded out, I put down my camera.
“I think that’s a wrap. I know you still have the white outfit left to go, but I think we’ve already got everything you’ll need. We ran through most of the poses you tagged on your Pinterest board, and I know I’ve got pictures of you ranging the whole gamut from demure to seductive.”
Aubrey walked over to the ottoman that dominated her dressing room and started to slip on a robe, when I had a flash of inspiration.
“Hold on one minute,” I called out, grabbing my camera and hurrying over. “Let’s get a few of you on this thing.” I nudged the ottoman with my foot.
Surprised, Aubrey looked at it and considered the prop, then draped herself suggestively across it. “Like this?”
I nodded, snapped a few shots and then walked around to get some from the back. “Perfect.” Aubrey twisted a few different ways, even lying on her back and stretching her legs straight up in the air, crossed at the ankles, before we quit.
As she slipped on her robe, I finished off my orange juice from earlier. “How soon were you hoping to have prints of these?”
“Initially, I was going to say a week would be fine, but now I’m so excited to see the final results that I’ll throw in an extra thousand dollars if you can have them for me tomorrow.”
My eyes widened, and I tried not to let my shock show. Damn, I could do a lot with four thousand dollars for a day’s work. I glanced at my watch. It was already three-thirty. If I hustled, I could probably finish tonight. She wouldn’t need that much retouching. “I’ll have the prints here at noon tomorrow. Will that work for you?”
She reached over and squished me in a hug, catching me off guard. I patted her shoulder awkwardly. “I can’t wait! I can’t wait, I can’t wait, I can’t wait!” she squealed, bouncing on her toes. I could feel her bare breasts under her robe pressing against me, and I eased back from her, trying to put a little distance between us. It was one thing to photograph those bad boys but it was quite another to have them all up on me.
Shouldering my bag, I headed for the door. “I can let myself out, if you want to stay here and finish getting dressed. I’ll text you when I’m on my way tomorrow.”
“Thanks! I can’t wait to show them to my boyfriend!”
I paused on the threshold to her room. “Oh yeah? Text me and let me know what he thinks.”
“You can ask him yourself,” Aubrey said, her voice dripping sweetness.
“Oh? Will I get to meet him?” My brow furrowed in confusion.
“You already have. West Montgomery.”