Chapter 19
Ashlyn
“Tug your shirt up a little more,” I say as I zoom in.
“The ladies like a little mystery. A tease, if you will,” he says.
“No they don’t. They want to see your abs,” I say, changing angles.
“Trust me, honey. I’ve been a model for a long time and that’s what they like,” he says as he runs his hands through his hair, and I snap three shots as his triceps flex.
“Trust me, honey. I’ve been a girl for a long time, and girls don’t want mystery. They want skin. Now lose the shirt.”
It makes him laugh a boyish laugh that shows the dimple on his cheek, and I snag another three shots.
I’ve never done a shoot like this before. I’ve never done an actual shoot, period. There aren’t a lot of photography jobs that will hire an ex-daycare worker to take photos that require some level of talent.
“Turn around,” I tell him, making a circular motion with my finger. “Show me that ass.”
“You’re the most demanding photographer I’ve ever worked with,” he says, turning around. His back is mostly facing me, but he turns his head to look over his shoulder. God…his jawline is so sharp it could cut glass.
Watching him move in front of the camera is a total turn-on.
His every move is controlled, and not overly done.
He turns, reaches, and flexes slowly, consciously.
It’s organic and natural, like in real life.
The only difference is that it’s slightly more deliberate.
Every look is thoughtful. When he glances into the distance, it’s like he has something deep on his mind.
When his attention flashes back to me, it’s personal.
His body is so sculpted, it looks like it was carved out of marble.
Every muscle is showcased, no matter how he’s posing.
His muscles are lean, and his veins line his powerful arms. I follow him as he moves around the staged bedroom.
He goes to the window, stretches in a slow flex.
Looks down, over, back. For a moment he leans against the wall, then slowly pushes off, walking towards me with intent.
I back up to maintain the distance, a smile on my lips and my finger snapping shots with rapid fire.
“You are so good at this,” I tell him.
“I’ve been doing it for so long I don’t even really think about it anymore,” he says before grabbing his water. I take it as a cue to take a break. It’s fine by me; it means I get a second to look at my camera and the shots I took.
“You really are great at this,” he says as we sit down on the end of the bed. “Those are some nice shots.”
“Helps when the subject is easy on the eyes,” I tell him, and then I feel a small rush of heat in my cheeks. I’m not usually that bold. Heck, I don’t know if I’m ever that bold.
“Why do you work for Sigma?” he asks suddenly, and it catches me off guard.
“They pay well?” I say, but it comes out like a question instead of a statement of certainty.
“A lot of jobs pay well…especially if you’re talented. By looking at those photos, I can say you are definitely talented. Too talented to be working for Sigma, that’s for sure. What kind of name is Sigma, anyways?”
“I think it means badass or low-key cool,” I say.
“Well, that’s low-key lame,” he says, and I let out an unapologetic laugh. Zane smiles. “For real, though. You’re an incredible photographer. You could do so much better.”
“Tell that to all the people that turned me down when I was trying to get a new job,” I say.
“What was your old job?” he asks.
“I worked at a daycare,” I tell him, and Zane’s eyes widen a hint.
“A daycare?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I nod with a smile. “I have a degree.”
“In Play-Doh and counting by twos?” he asks, and I swat him.
“Be nice. No. In early childhood education and development,” I answer.
“Really?” he asks, genuinely impressed.
“Really. With a minor in psychology.”
“Jesus. Well now I feel like a dick,” he lets out a breath. “I had no idea.”
“Most people don’t,” I say. “I don’t talk about it much.”
“No? Why not?” he asks.
“Because it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s in the past,” I say. Then I spin the conversation around. “What about you? Why are you a model?”
“Because I don’t believe in wasting good looks on a nine to five desk job,” he says smugly, and I just roll my eyes. It seems to me that he is guarded too. Which means it’s time to change the topic. I decide to go back to the topic of his body.
I move to the floor and sit in front of him.
“What are you up to?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I tell him with the camera in place. “Give me…you just woke up and you’re tired but you know you have to face the day.”
His abs look great in this position. He’s leaning over, feet planted firmly on the floor, forearms resting on his knees, head tilted to look at me.
I’m expecting brooding and pensive. Reflective.
Morose even. Instead, he stares at me so deeply that my insides tingle, among other things.
Then he scrunches up his face, lets his eyes go cross-eyed, and sticks out his tongue.
It surprises me enough that I laugh out loud, and he grins. “Are you serious?” I ask.
“Of course not,” he answers.
“That was cute, but it’s not the kind of photo I’m looking for,” I say.
“No? Then what are you looking for?” he asks.
“I think you know,” I tell him.
“Do I?” he asks.
“Mm hmm,” I nod.
“Maybe you should come over here and show me then.” He says, and I inch towards him.
I get up on my knees and he bends over as we kiss.
I set the camera on the bed and the kiss goes deeper.
His hands start to wander around my body.
The feeling of his fingertips on me is electric, but it’s his scent that is intoxicating.
It’s like a snake slowly coiling itself around my lungs; I have other intentions.
“No, no,” I say, pushing his hands away. “That’s not what I want.”
A smile curls at the corners of his lips as he engages in our game. “Alright. So, what do you want? You’re in charge here.”
I bite my lip in anticipation and hook my fingers inside the elastic band of his briefs, tugging them away just enough to free his cock. Then I wrap my fingers around it, pressing my thumb to that soft, sweet spot that is oh so sensitive right below the tip.
“Fuck,” he lets out.
I half-grin with parted lips, but I don’t look up at him. I’m too focused on his pulsing dick in my hand, hot, hard, and pulsing with need.
Slowly, I lean in, watching him through my eyelashes. His expression unhinges as my warm breath emits over the head of his dick and my mouth gets closer and closer.
I can feel his blood rushing as he holds his breath in anticipation.
I’m not usually one to want to be in control, but doing this is making me wet. The idea of having him inside my mouth is enough to make me come.
I press my tongue to the soft spot and slowly cover the head with my lips, and Zane groans.
“God…” he lets out. “You’re killing me, baby.”
“I’ve hardly done anything,” I say teasingly.
“I know,” he says. “That’s the point.”
“No, I think this is the point,” I say before moving my hand in a firm downward stroke, before taking the head further into my mouth.
Zane’s head falls back, and he lets out a gritty moan.
I watch as his arousal takes over his expression.
Every stroke, lick, and swirl of my tongue gets a reaction out of him.
His torso flexes, and the rivets become more pronounced as he strains to avoid coming too quickly.
I know the signs. I can see it. I can feel his cock growing harder in my hand and the pulsing of his cock on my tongue.
I know the pleasure he’s feeling is strong, and so is his struggle for control.
“You’re going to end me, baby girl. You know that?” he asks. And I do know that.
“That’s the whole point,” I say, licking my lips before sucking him again. I take hold of his cock in my hand and quicken the strokes from base to tip, twisting and tugging until he is so close to the edge that he is practically shaking.
“Fuuuuuccccckkkk,” he says again, gripping the bedding in his hands. I close my mouth around the head of his cock, sucking and teasing him with my tongue, while fucking him with my hand until everything breaks loose.
Zane lets out a satisfied groan before his body slowly relaxes. Just before I pull him from my mouth, I see a camera flash. I look up and find him holding my camera with a cocky grin.
“That one’s just for you,” he says. “I’m going for a swim.” He leans down and kisses me before shoving to his feet and heading out to the pool. I get up from the floor and sit down on the bed to go through the photos. They’re incredible, especially with a black and white filter.
They show all his sides. Serious. Sexy. Playful. Pensive. Then there’s the goofy one with his tongue out. It shows a side of him I don’t think people get to see very often. A side people would love to see. It’s the real, everyday Zane, not just model Zane; it would make a great story.