30. Pin-up Poses
Chapter thirty
Pin-up Poses
Sal
I can't help but marvel at the set as we walk in. Everything is pristine white…from the leather chaise lounge to the mod-style coffee table with its curved lines that could have been lifted straight from a late 1950s magazine spread. I've arranged white bowls filled with various fruits across the table, and the chocolate fondue pot sits ready, its contents waiting to be warmed.
Chad approaches us, clipboard in hand. "Alright, here's how we're going to do this. First, we'll shoot Albany clean…no chocolate. Then we'll do the pour shots." He turns to me. "Sal, you'll be doing the pouring, both in the chef's jacket and shirtless. We'll digitally remove you from the final images."
"I'm sorry, then why does it matter if I'm shirtless?" I ask, puzzled.
"Because," Chad grins, "there's always the possibility we might use one. And I have to give Albany something for Christmas this year."
I grin back, pleased with the way this guy thinks.
He positions me next to the chaise, demonstrating the angles we'll need to capture the chocolate cascade without getting me in the frame. "Stand here, arm extended like this. We want the chocolate to look like it's floating down."
I nod, taking mental notes of each position. This needs to be perfect…not just for the calendar but for Albany.
"Nova," I call over my shoulder while Chad continues explaining camera angles. "The chocolate needs constant attention. Stir every few minutes and keep it between 88 and 90 degrees. Too hot, and it'll lose its shine, too cool, and it won't pour right."
Nova gives me a thumbs up, already moving to the tempering machine I brought from Sweet Alchemy. "Got it, Chef. I'll watch it like a hawk."
My mouth goes dry as Albany walks onto the set, time slowing to a halt as my goddess emerges from the dressing room like a chrysalis from a cocoon. The silk robe flows around her curves like water, each step causing the fabric to shimmer under the studio lights. Her transformation is breathtaking…the platinum waves styled into that iconic bob, those mesmerizing violet eyes sparkling above perfectly painted red lips. The beauty mark on her left cheek completes the illusion, though Albany's natural ethereal beauty shines through the Marilyn-inspired look.
The entire set falls silent. Nova's spoon clatters against the side of the tempering machine. Chad's clipboard slips in his grip. Even the chatty makeup and hair artists fall speechless.
Albany's walk has changed completely; gone is her usual bouncy stride. Instead, she moves with a sensual sway that would make Monroe herself proud. Her shoulders are pulled back, her chin slightly lifted, radiating the kind of confidence that makes looking away impossible.
My heart clenches painfully as I think of Haze. He should be here to see this. To witness how she commands attention without saying a word, and how she embodies both strength and vulnerability in equal measure. The way her pale skin seems to glow under the lights, making her look like she's lit from within.
I swallow hard, trying to find my voice. But what can I say? Words seem inadequate to capture the vision before me. All I can do is stare, my fingers itching to trace the curve of her cheek, to feel if she's real or just a dream.
An idea begins to form in my mind. One I have no doubt Albany will be on board for.
I grip the edge of the craft services table as Albany steps between the chaise lounge and coffee table. My knuckles turn white when she drops her robe, revealing an expanse of perfect skin. She's been rubbed down with a dry oil that both absorbs and reflects the light in all the right places. The curve of her breasts and pale pink nipples has my mouth watering.
She settles onto the chaise with practiced grace, propping herself up on one elbow. Her legs extend along the leather, one knee slightly bent. Those red-painted toes match her lipstick and nails perfectly…small pops of color against her alabaster skin that draw the eye exactly where she wants it to go. My eyes travel the curving length of her, draped over the chaise like a modern-day Venus.
Fucking hell, I'm going to come in my pants like a teenage boy. I shift uncomfortably, very aware of the growing tightness tenting my pants. To distract myself, I focus intently on Chad adjusting the lighting setup. I've never been so fascinated by the positioning of soft boxes and reflectors before. Who knew proper light diffusion could be so riveting? Anything to keep my mind off the goddess lounging mere feet away.
Chad glances over at me and snorts, clearly seeing right through my desperate attempt at composure. "Don't waste that," he says with a knowing smirk, nodding toward my obvious predicament. "It'll look great in the shoot."
My face burns hot as Albany's musical laugh fills the studio. I don't dare look at her, afraid I'll completely lose what little control I have left.
I watch in awe as Chad discusses lighting and poses with Albany. She reclines there on the chaise, completely at ease in her skin, nodding thoughtfully at his directions. Her comfort with her nudity isn't performative or forced…it's a natural extension of who she is. There's something incredibly powerful about that level of self-possession.
When she catches my eye and flashes that warm smile, my earlier nervousness evaporates completely. Her violet eyes sparkle with excitement and trust. She wants me here. She wants to share this part of her world with me. The realization fills me with a profound sense of gratitude.
"We'll start with some classic pin-up poses," Chad explains, checking his light meter. "Then move into the chocolate elements. The key is keeping everything tasteful but sensual."
Albany adjusts her position slightly, somehow making even that small movement look graceful. "Got it. Should we do a few test shots to check the lighting on my skin? The alabaster can be tricky."
Her professionalism impresses me. She knows exactly what she needs to look her best, speaking up with quiet confidence. This is her element, and watching her work is like seeing art come to life.
A wave of appreciation washes over me, not just for her beauty but for her willingness to let me be part of this intimate, creative process. She's invited me into her world without hesitation, trusting me to understand and respect it. The gift of that trust isn't lost on me.