Hunks of the Month

Chapter 8

THE CALENDAR project raced ahead. Between Connor, Sterling, and the guys who had agreed to do the calendar, they had filled all of the slots. The only one open was Connor’s counterpart. He had approached a few people he knew, but they had all backed away. None of them had said so, but he figured they didn’t want to be involved with a gay calendar. It was their loss as far as Connor was concerned. He and Sterling had developed a fantastic plan and vision for the images, which would feature a number of locations throughout town.

“How is the scheduling coming?” Connor asked as he perused the sketches Sterling had done for each of the pages.

“Pretty well. I only have two more to work through, and one of them is yours.” He continued going through his notes. “There is one thing we need to figure out, and that’s the flowers. They need to appear in every image, and I think they should be different based on the guys, but I’m not coming up with anything.”

“If you ask me, I think you should base the flowers on the complementary color to the background or to the guys. Just let them flow rather than forcing it. Also, I think we need to get the garden club involved. I want to contact Aunt Lucille and have the club members provide flowers from their gardens. That way we can put in the caption for each month who the models are and who provided the flowers, and the ladies get their own recognition.”

Sterling pushed his notebook aside, grinning. “That’s awesome. There can be bouquets of different flowers and colors, and we can use them as needed. Not fancy roses or florist flowers, just ones from local gardens. It’s perfect. I’ve been wondering how we could get the ladies themselves involved, and that’s exactly it.” He jumped up, and before Connor realized it, Sterling had kissed him and sat back down.

There hadn’t been any more of those intense, knee-buckling kisses since the one in Sterling’s backyard, but Connor realized that when they were together, Sterling touched him—lightly, gently, but he touched him—a lot. The touches weren’t threatening or intense, they were just there, and Connor looked forward to them.

“I’ll call Aunt Lucille tomorrow and have her get in touch with the club. What I think they should do is make the bouquets themselves. Get the ladies to volunteer. That way the flowers in each picture belong to only one of the ladies, rather than a mix that everyone brought. Yes, we should ask them to use different kinds of flowers and to include some that are unique to the area. I’m sure the ladies have some interesting things in their gardens. For Christmas we’ll want something holiday-themed, or at least holiday colors.”

“Perfect,” Sterling said as he sat back down at the table with his sketches.

“What are you trying to do?” Connor asked, leaning over his back.

“Figure out how this thing is going to make sense. I mean, the guys picked their months, so that’s rather random… and we’ll have the flowers covered once your great-aunt does her magic. I’m trying to think of how the calendar will flow. But….”

Connor patted Sterling’s shoulder. “I think you’re trying to find something that isn’t there yet. You’ll know once you’ve seen the images.”

“But….” He continued working with the sketches, and Connor saw him searching. It was frustrating.

“Some things are outside our control. Lee and Dirk were promised July because it’s their anniversary. Billy and Darryl wanted May. Those are set, as are some of the others, like me for April. So that’s pretty much it. We have some that can float because they didn’t have a month preference.” He patted Sterling’s firm shoulders gently. “Don’t struggle with what can’t be changed. Maybe once we have the images, we can move some around if they truly don’t work.”

Sterling sat back. “I know you’re right. I just want the calendar to be good, and….”

Connor came around to stand where Sterling could see him. “This is going to be great. I know it. The thing we need to do now is review the schedule for photography. How many shoots are outside?”

“Six. Those we have to let float a little due to the weather and light, so I have the studio schedule set and confirmed. The others have schedules as well, with alternate dates and times that they’re available.”

“So when do you start?”

“Terry and Red will be here tomorrow morning at ten.” There was an excitement in him that built by the second. “I’ll need to set up the studio.”

“Need some help?” Connor asked, and Sterling slid his hands up his arms, leaving behind a trail of tingles that drove Connor a little crazy. He closed his eyes as Sterling’s hands continued upward to his shoulders, then drew him closer. Connor went willingly until their lips crashed together in a wave of desire. He crushed Sterling back into the chair, leaning over him, pressing him against the back of the chair, devouring his lips like they were his alone.

Connor’s heart beat staccato in his ears, and he grew hot. Damn, he wanted this man. He straddled Sterling’s his legs. He wanted to climb him.

The doorbell chimed, and Connor cursed someone’s amazing timing. He backed away and stood straight up. “You better get that. I’ll meet you in the studio when you’re ready.” Connor needed to get out of here so he could breathe and think a few minutes. He turned and went out through the back of the house and into the studio, then turned on the lights in the lobby area and sat in one of the chairs.

It was becoming harder and harder to resist Sterling, and he was beginning to wonder why he was bothering. Sure, he had bad experiences in college. Didn’t almost everyone? Guys were self-centered jerks all over the world, and if everyone who crossed paths with one never dated again, then the human race would die out, because Lord knows many women would never have children.

“It was just a delivery,” Sterling said as he set a box on the counter. “Come on.” He led the way back into the studio, and Connor followed. “Terry is a swimmer, but I don’t want to use a water background.”

“What about something blue?” Connor asked.

“Red and Terry are going to provide some unique challenges.” Sterling set up the lights and had Connor stand in the center of the white backdrop that went down the entire wall and onto the floor. Then he grabbed his camera and snapped a few images, checking the results before changing the angles. “I can add color to the lights that will change the overarching color, but it’s going to depend on what works.” He stood back and took a few more pictures, and Connor stood with his hands at his side. “Do something. Have fun with it,” Sterling told him.

Connor smiled and turned to the side. “If I’d known I was going to end up in front of the camera, I would have worn my best kilt.”

“I think you look stunning just like that.” Sterling continued snapping pictures, the lights brightening and then lowering with each shot. “Turn to the side, but look at me… yes… that’s it. Lift your head a little. Don’t look at the camera, but beyond it. Looking at the camera makes it the focus of the picture. Watching something behind gives the image depth and makes it seem like it’s part of a story.”

Connor did as he asked, and Sterling kept taking pictures. He simply moved and changed position. Sterling snapped image after image before putting down the camera. Then he turned one of the monitors and flipped through the pictures so Connor could see them. “Just get comfortable with the camera. Don’t worry about where it is or what it sees. That’s my job. Yours is to move and relax.” He showed him some of the first pictures, and even Connor could see he looked like he was about to jump out of his skin. As the pictures went on, he smiled more and his eyes had fewer little lines. “See what I mean?” Sterling came over and popped open the top buttons on Connor’s shirt. “Just relax and let yourself shine through. Don’t try to hide behind an attitude or anything else.” He stepped back, and Connor stared at Sterling, watching him. The camera clicked, and the lights flashed again and again. “Would you take off the shirt?” Sterling asked, and Connor popped the last buttons, parted the fabric, took it off, and draped it over a stool. He was a little self-conscious, but this was only Sterling, and he had said to try to relax. So Connor took a deep breath and let go of his inhibitions as best he could, surprised at how the camera changed things.

Sterling adjusted the lights, softening them, and then picked up the camera again.

“Is this okay?”

“You look amazing,” Sterling whispered and continued snapping as Connor moved slowly, turning his body but keeping his gaze to Sterling. “Now look to the side. There’s a calendar of puppies on the wall. Watch that…. Perfect…. The cute puppies always get that effect.”

Connor smiled and then laughed a little, and Sterling kept taking pictures.

“Am I doing this right?” Connor asked. This was new territory for him.

Sterling lowered his camera and swallowed audibly. “You look absolutely edible.” He stared at Connor for a few seconds and then slowly lifted the camera, moving closer and closer, snapping images the entire way. “Now turn gradually toward me.”

Connor did as he asked, and Sterling drew away and then close once again. The air in the studio was warm and a little moist. Sweat beaded on his chest. Connor wondered how much longer Sterling was going to keep this up. Finally he set down the camera and walked over to Connor. Without another word, Sterling drew Connor to him. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in his kiss. A surge of energy roared through Connor like a train, and Sterling drew him nearer, holding him tightly.

“Do you kiss a lot of your models?” Connor teased.

Sterling shook his head. “Only you. Unless you count my ex, which I certainly don’t.” He kissed him again, and Connor’s legs felt weak. Sterling must have felt it too, because he lowered him to the mat, straddling his legs as he cradled Connor’s head and shoulders in his arms, keeping him from going all the way to the floor. “I want you, Connor,” he whispered.

“Sterling, I….”

He didn’t press for more, which surprised Connor. Their breath came in pants, and Sterling’s eyes were as dark and deep as the ocean. The room smelled of desire, sharp and musky. Connor knew it was both of them, and denying that he wanted Sterling was impossible. Still, he hesitated, and Sterling slowly released his hold and leaned back. He nudged a stool at the edge of the mat, and it fell to the floor with a bang that made Connor jump.

“God, I’m as nervous as a sheep in a whorehouse.” Connor wondered where that reference had come from, and Sterling chuckled as he righted the stool. “Maybe you and I should take our time. See where this goes.”

Sterling extended his hand, and Connor got to his feet. “I’d like that.” Connor reached for his shirt, but Sterling stilled him. “I also like you just like that.”

“Sterling….” His self-consciousness took over under Sterling’s heated gaze. He wasn’t used to people being so blatant about their attraction to him. Connor didn’t see himself as anything special. He was basically a geek who taught history. He loved what he did, and he was passionate about his subject, but he wasn’t exciting. Not like Sterling, who had been all over the world. Connor hadn’t even actually seen what was left of many of the places he taught about. Studying was something, at least in his experience, that was done largely at a distance, and that was fine with him. He seemed to do better with people at a distance too. At least his past experience led in that direction.

“It’s how I felt when saw you. Like some god coming in from outdoors bringing flowers. Don’t forget that you were the one who inspired this whole mess.” He grinned, and Connor groaned softly, rolling his eyes.

“So I’m responsible for you getting dragged into this project and talking me into standing in front of the camera.” He still wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he had committed to it, and he wasn’t going to back down. Sterling continued watching him, and Connor reached for his shirt, put it on, and fastened the buttons. There was something about the way that Sterling watched him, his gaze becoming more intense. Part of him liked being the center of Sterling’s attention, and yet that naysaying voice in the back of his head kept reminding him that Sterling dealt with models all the time. People who were perfect and paid to look perfect. What if Sterling looked long enough that he found the flaws? What would he think then? Connor knew he wasn’t perfect. Quite far from it, as a matter of fact. He turned away so Sterling couldn’t see his expression and the worry that he knew had to be written all over his features.

Connor finished buttoning his shirt as he realized that while he wasn’t perfect like the models Sterling had photographed, he wanted to be. Or at least he wanted to be for Sterling—he wanted Sterling to notice him. He liked that Sterling wanted to look at him. But he was scared of the fact that one day, Sterling would stop looking and turn his attention to someone else. That always seemed to happen before.

“I need to call Aunt Lucille and arrange for us to have flowers for tomorrow.” Connor grabbed his phone, glad to have something to do, and pressed her contact. He wandered away, happy to put some distance between them, because the damned hamster wheel his mind seemed to have climbed on needed to stop spinning.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Aunt Lucille said as she answered. “What do you have for me?”

“We have our first photo session tomorrow, and we need some flowers.”

“We have set aside a small budget for the project, and I thought we could buy the flowers you need.”

Connor explained his and Sterling’s idea. “We’d give credit in the photo notes on the calendar for each member that provides the flowers. That way the ladies could have a month too. Can you get them to volunteer to cut some flowers for us? They’ll need to be fresh.”

“Love that idea. There is a lot in bloom right now, so it shouldn’t be difficult. I’ll make some calls.”

“Good. But we need the first one for tomorrow.”

“What colors?” Aunt Lucille asked.

Connor had no idea what to tell her. He turned to Sterling and relayed the question.

“We don’t know,” Connor said and continued watching Sterling. “Why don’t we get enough flowers in two or three colors so we can mix and match them as we go?”

“The more intense the color, the better. That way the flowers won’t get lost in the background,” Sterling said, and Connor relayed the message.

“I have plenty blooming right now, so stop over and pick what you think you’ll need.” She spoke quickly. “This is so exciting. I can’t wait to tell the ladies at our meeting tomorrow that things are moving ahead.” The hesitation in her voice had Connor worrying.

“What’s going on? The club is on board with this, right?” He suddenly remembered Judy and her reaction to the whole idea. It had never occurred to him that Aunt Lucille might be going out on a limb to make this happen.

“There are some people who will never accept anything new. They want everything to stay the same, and it’s that thinking that got us in this position. Well, that and Helen deciding to run off with the treasury. That damned witch with a capital B. Oops….” Connor could see her putting her hand over her mouth. Aunt Lucille was passionate, and you definitely didn’t want to get on her bad side.

“Okay. I’ll be over first thing in the morning to pick the flowers.”

“Come early and I’ll make cinnamon rolls.” That was a deal. Aunt Lucille’s baking was orgasmic, and her cinnamon rolls the equivalent of shooting to the moon. “And I want to talk to you.” He should have known—her cinnamon rolls always came with a price. “I understand that you and Sterling have been spending a lot of time together.” There was a definite smile in her voice before she cleared her throat. “I know you haven’t had much luck with men, so when you come over tomorrow, you and I need to—”

“No, we don’t,” Connor cut in. “We are not going to talk about that. No way. I can figure out things on my own, especially those kinds of things.” He lowered his voice and turned away. “I’m an adult, and I know how things work. It’s a little late for the birds and the bees, anyway.”

Aunt Lucille scoffed. “Honey, who’s talking birds and bees? I’m talking about how to use the damned honey to keep the birds, bears, otters, hunks, or whatever your type is happy and coming back for more.” Now she was just being wicked, and Connor tried to keep from coughing up a lung. “I know I never married, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what it takes to attract or keep a man. For me, men were like fishing: catch them, reel them in for a little excitement, and then throw them back. Sometimes I caught the same fish twice and I got to see how he grew.” She cackled like a loon, and Connor wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole. While Sterling couldn’t hear what was being said, Connor’s cheeks burned with the intensity of a thousand suns, and there was no way Sterling didn’t have an idea of what they were talking about. “You need to make sure your fishing pole is ready and that you have the right bait so you can reel him in and then decide if he’s a keeper.”

“Oh my God.” He peeked at Sterling, who was doing his best not to look like he was listening to their conversation. “Look, if I decide to go fishing, my pole is just fine, and I have plenty of bait, it seems. I don’t think you need to worry at all about that. Now, I’ll be over tomorrow, and we can have breakfast and I’ll pick some flowers. You once told me that the three subjects that are always safe in polite company are the weather, gardening, and your health, so let’s stick with those, okay?” He hoped she got the idea that he wasn’t the least bit interested in talking to her about his love life.

“Fine, I’ll see you then.” She hung up, and Connor knew she’d given up way too easily and that this wasn’t over.

“What?” Sterling asked, and Connor filled him in—about the garden club part, not the part about his love life. “Your great-aunt will be fine, and she’s more than a match for anyone. You know that.” Sterling half smiled. “Is she going to get us flowers?”

“Yes. I’ll pick some from her garden for tomorrow’s shoot. Her garden club meeting is tomorrow afternoon, so she’s going to recruit the ladies then. Aunt Lucille said that some of them were resistant.”

Sterling came closer. “This is a club, so something like this would need to be voted on. It obviously had enough support to pass the group, so I wouldn’t worry too much. There are always people in any group who dissent. It’s why I hate group decisions. They go around and around most of the time and get nowhere. If Lucille got approval, then trust her.” Connor knew Sterling was right, but he still worried. “What was all that talk about poles?”

Connor tried like hell not to blush again. “Aunt Lucille is a big fan of fishing.” He turned away, needing to change the subject. “I thought for tomorrow, I’d try to get spring colors—yellow, some white, and a few purples. Those should work with most other colors, and the irises will be really showy.”

“I like that. The more intense the better, except the purples. Lighter colors work better. Sometimes if purples are really intense, they blend into black on film and you lose the color.” Sterling went back to looking at the pictures and adjusting the lights. “Will you stand in the center again for me?” He stepped back, looking at the backdrop intensely. Connor stepped on and stood still. Sterling looked through the camera and took a few pictures. “I think that’s it. I’m looking for a light that will accentuate certain shadows, and I think I have it.”

Connor stepped out of the photographic area. “I can drop off the flowers in the morning. Do you want me to stay for the session, or would you be more comfortable without me here?” He was interested in watching Sterling work and hoped he didn’t mind him staying, but he wasn’t going to push in where he wasn’t needed. The last thing he wanted was to be a problem.

“Please stay. I was hoping you’d act as my assistant. There will be things I’m going to need, and it will slow the session down if I have to stop all the time. If you can help me, that would be wonderful.” Sterling shut down the lights, the room growing darker with only the light from the small windows to see by.

“I’ll be happy to.” Connor headed to the back door and was about to pull it open when Sterling tapped him on the shoulder. Connor turned around, and Sterling pushed him against the door with a kiss that stole Connor’s breath and his ability to think. The panels in the door pressed to his back, and he wound his arms around Sterling in order to stay upright. Sterling drew him tighter, deepening the pressure on his lips. When Connor opened his mouth slightly, Sterling slipped his tongue inside, tasting him. Connor groaned softly, and Sterling echoed it right back, the energy between them building until Connor didn’t know what end was up. “What was that for?” he whispered when Sterling backed away, their kiss coming to an end.

“I wanted to give you something to think about while you were alone in your bed tonight.” Sterling smiled and guided him away from the door. He pulled it open, and Connor stepped outside. “I’ll see you in the morning. You have a nice visit with your great-aunt, and we’ll figure out which flowers to use when you get here.”

Connor was a little surprised. “You really want me to go after that?”

Sterling shook his head, his eyes nearly as dark as night. “I don’t want you to go at all, but I’m not going to rush things.” He stepped outside behind him. “Drive carefully, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Sterling stood in the doorway as Connor slowly walked down the path and out to his car, half hoping that Sterling would hurry up behind him, take him by the hand, and lead him back inside. Instead, he went home alone, wondering why he didn’t just speak up.

“I KNOW I’M embarrassing you, but…,” Aunt Lucille pressed as she placed a plate of bacon, eggs, and a cinnamon roll in front of him. How much did she expect him to eat?

Connor just thanked her and took small bites. Under normal circumstances he’d save the roll until last, but the frosting was gooey, so he dug right in.

“How about you stop doing that, then, and leave me alone?” He took another bite and wished he could fill her plate and get her to eat. That way she couldn’t talk. But Aunt Lucille settled in with a cup of coffee and an expression that would instill fear in a medieval executioner. “I can handle my own love life.” He reached over and took her hand. “I know you mean well, but I have to find my own way in this.”

Aunt Lucille shook her head. “No, you don’t. I know the guys you dated in college. They were all losers. I knew that as soon as you brought them to visit. They were self-centered assholes. Sterling is not an asshole. In fact, he’s been on the same end of the stick as you were.”

Connor nodded. “How do you know?”

Aunt Lucille chuckled and then sipped her coffee. “The internet. How else? There were plenty of stories about him and his then-to-be husband, and there were plenty of articles and posts about their relationship and the breakup. Most took Alexander’s side, but a few seemed to include information that Alexander wasn’t as pure as the driven snow. Now he’s working all over the world, and Sterling is here. It doesn’t take much to realize that Sterling was hosed. Not that it changes what most people think. But Sterling knows what you went through.”

“I know he does. He told me all about it.” Connor finished his roll with its aromatic goodness and gooey sweetness. He wanted another, but he ate the eggs and bacon instead before sitting back in his seat. “I’m going to be fine. I like Sterling, I really do. But you said it yourself. Alexander travels all over the world, and Sterling used to, and once the world forgives him, the offers will come back, I know it. And then if I let myself go for what I want so badly, I’ll be the one standing on the outside once again when I’m not exciting enough for him. I can’t compete with designers, models, weeks in Paris, Rome, Tokyo, and who knows where.”

“Connor—” Aunt Lucille began, but he cut her off.

“Like I said, I have to do this my way. I know you want me to be happy, and you think I’m lonely, but if something is meant to happen, it will in its own time.” He had to make her understand. “Please promise me that you won’t interfere.”

“Me?” Aunt Lucille narrowed her eyes. “Me? I never interfere in your life. You’re free to make your own decisions, you know that. I may give advice—fantastic advice if I say so myself—but you are free to take what I say or reject it… at your peril.” She got up and tottered to refill her mug, then returned to her chair. “Finish your breakfast and then go on out and pick some of the irises.”

“Aunt Lucille,” he said softly. There was nothing he could say that would make her change her mind about anything. She was up to something, and Connor knew it was a lot easier to get out of her way and not fight her.

“Don’t give me that tone. I’m an old lady, and there are few things in this world that give me more pleasure than seeing you happy. And one of my wishes is to be there when you get married. I learned a long time ago that there isn’t going to be a white wedding dress involved, unless that’s your thing….” She wagged her eyebrows, and Connor about did a spit take with his coffee. “I didn’t think so. I do love that RuPaul, though.” Oh God. The thought of his great-aunt and drag queens was just too much. “Don’t make that pooh-pooh face. I’m going to be thrilled when you marry another man, and I intend to be around to see it.” She drank some more coffee and then pushed the mug away. “Decaf. I hate this shit, but the damned doctor says if I want coffee, I gotta drink this stuff for my heart. I swear it would do my heart a hell of a lot of good to have a real Starbucks mocha cappuccino again.”

Connor grinned. “Fine. I’ll bring you Starbucks if you promise not to interfere in my love life anymore.” He stood after checking the time, not expecting her to answer. “I’m going to get the flowers, and then I have to get going.” He leaned over to kiss her cheek and then hurried outside.

Aunt Lucille’s garden was flourishing, and her iris bed was a riot of color. He cut a dozen iris stems, as well as some roses and peonies, then got one of the old vases she kept in the garage, placed the stems in it with wet paper towels, and popped his head inside to let his great-aunt know he was leaving before hurrying to the studio.

“ARE THEY here?” Connor asked as he strode inside, placing the vase on Sterling’s desk. “Do you think these will work?”

“Red and Terry called and will be here in ten minutes.” Aunt Lucille and Sterling’s father had both asked to watch, but fortunately he and Sterling had put that notion to bed. Sterling bent over the vase, inhaling. “They’re beautiful, and I think they’ll be perfect. I have everything set up, and the lights will need some minor adjustment, but I think the effect will work.” He seemed nervous, his shoulders tight, and Connor put his arms around his waist, leaning against his back. It felt so right that he almost pulled away, remembering his own admonishment to his great-aunt. Sterling was like a magnet whose pull he couldn’t seem to resist, and yet he knew he needed to… somehow.

He jumped back at a knock, and then two men entered. He recognized Terry from his pictures, news coverage, and advertisements in magazines and on TV. “Morning! I’m Terry, and this is Red.”

Connor was a little surprised at the scars across Red’s cheeks. They were older and faded, but still noticeable, and he tried not to react. Terry threaded his arm around Red’s and smiled up at him adoringly.

“Welcome,” Sterling said as he shook hands with both of them. “I’m Sterling, and this is Connor.” He motioned toward the backdrop. “I have things set up, and I thought we’d start with a few pictures to get you comfortable in front of the camera. Then you can change clothes and we’ll shoot the two of you together, shirtless if that works.” Sterling was professional and all business. He got the men standing together and took a few test pictures.

Red and Terry seemed to almost circle one another, their movements like they were getting their pictures taken on a cruise ship, stiff and formal. “Relax,” Connor said gently. “You two love each other, so let that show.” He probably should have stayed quiet, but they continued, and things seemed better.

Sterling showed them the pictures he’d taken so far on a nearby monitor, and Terry brushed his hand over Red’s cheek. “I told you they would be beautiful.”

“You can’t see the scars at all.” Red touched his own face and smiled. Then the two of them left to change clothes. They returned in Speedos, with Red in navy blue and Terry in pink. They were stunning men, Terry all sleek, lithe muscle, and Red big and physically impressive, with a chest that could have modeled for a statue of a sexy, robust Zeus or Poseidon. The contrast was quite striking.

“Pink?” Connor asked.

“It’s his lucky color. Terry always swims in pink,” Red said.

“I brought the medals in case you wanted to use them,” Terry offered.

Sterling had them step onto the background and got them into position, handing Terry the bouquet of flowers. As soon as he started snapping pictures, the mood of the room filled with tension that only grew. Terry and Red weren’t comfortable, and it showed in the way they moved. Sterling knew it and tried a number of things to shift the energy, but nothing seemed to help.

“Let’s take a few minutes,” Sterling said, offering both guys water. “I don’t get it.”

“They aren’t models, and this isn’t a portrait session either. It’s a combination, and they don’t know what you want,” Connor said softly.

“I don’t know either.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “I do. This should be sexy, caring, and all about the flowers. They’re a gift of love. Remember?” He drew closer. “Those two have enough heat to spontaneously combust, so don’t treat them as models. Try treating them as lovers and stoke those fires.” He grinned, and Sterling shook his head.

“I should have thought of that.”

“You would have.” Connor stood a little taller. “But you were trying to do your job, and I was watching everything.”

Terry and Red returned, and this time Sterling seemed more relaxed. He picked out a mixture of pale purple, yellow, and white irises and handed the bouquet to Red. “I think we’re going to try something different this time. It’s just the two of you, so stand slightly to the side instead of straight on, look at each other, forget about the camera and what I’m doing. Just spend some time with each other.”

“Should I hand Terry the flowers?” Red asked, looking at Terry with so much love that Connor could almost feel it filling the room. He was afraid to breathe in case he broke the spell.

Sterling snapped image after image. “That’s wonderful.” Connor moved slightly so he could see the images as they flashed on the screen off to the side. They were stunning. When Sterling glanced over, they shared a smile, a tingle going up Connor’s spine. Sterling returned his attention to the guys. “Now, pretend that someone both of you love has just come in and the flowers are for them.”

Terry and Red adjusted their hands slightly, moving the flowers forward, and Sterling snapped the perfect image. The two lovers sharing their flowers with the viewer. It took Connor’s breath away.

“That’s it. Now bring your bellies in, firm and straight. Hold it right there.” Sterling snapped an even better image and then another. The expressions were perfect, and Connor leaned closer to the screen without thinking about it. Image after amazing image crossed the screen, and then Sterling paused and put down the camera. “Guys, I think that’s it.”

Sweat covered Sterling’s forehead, and he was smiling brightly. “Do you want to see?” He turned the screen and flipped through the images on his camera. “You two look amazing.”

“And one of those is going to be on the calendar?” Red asked.

“Stop,” Connor said. “I think that one right there—it’s perfect. The two of you have an incredible connection, and yet look at Terry’s eyes, the way they’re looking just slightly forward, beckoning the viewer closer. It’s almost like we’re included in the picture. That’s exactly the kind of thing we want.”

“But my face,” Red said softly. “I don’t want to scare anyone.”

Sterling sighed. “Don’t worry.” A bit of light accentuated instead of minimized one of the scars. “I can use Photoshop to smooth that out a little and make it recede. Don’t worry.”

“I love it just as it is,” Terry told Red. “It’s perfect, and you look so strong, like you’ve been to battle. Remember, the scars are war wounds. We all have them. Just some are on the outside.” Terry leaned closer to Red, and Connor tugged Sterling away and back. Their two models needed a few minutes, and the best thing they could do was give them some privacy.

“What is this for?” Sterling asked.

Connor raised hie eyebrows. “I know you’re used to working with models, but what Terry and Red just did is intimate—private. That they let you and me in was something pretty special, but they need a few minutes, so we have to give it to them.” He stepped back and hoped Sterling would understand. Sterling found himself some things to do, and Connor wandered off to the lobby area, where he sat in the chair until he heard one of the doors close behind him. Figuring Red and Terry had gone to change, he found Sterling at the screen, perusing the images.

“These are stunning.”

“Of course they are. You’re a gifted photographer.” And he was. “This project is different from anything you’ve probably done before.”

Sterling looked up. “They’re making love to each other with their eyes.”

Connor nodded. “Exactly, and that’s something pretty special.” It almost felt voyeuristic to look at the images. “How many times have you tried for an image like that in your professional life? You’d probably have killed for it with professional models.”

Sterling raised his gaze. “Hell, I’d kill for that kind of look in my personal life. Forget about professionally. Can you imagine what it would feel like to have someone look at you that way? The devotion, the way the entire world seems to fall away because nothing but the two of them matter.” The longing in Sterling’s voice was almost palpable. All Connor could do was nod and remain silent. If he spoke, he’d give away every ounce of feeling he had, and Connor wasn’t ready for that kind of openness.

“Thank you,” Connor told Red and Terry when they returned, dressed in their street clothes.

“You’re welcome,” Terry said.

“What about the images? What will happen to them?” Red asked. “Could we get some prints of them for ourselves?”

“Yes. The images are copyrighted by me, and yes, you can definitely order prints of them. As for anything else, they won’t be used anywhere other than the calendar. Though I know a few magazines… hell, Speedo would probably pay a small fortune to use these in some of their advertising. But that will not happen. These were pictures taken for a specific purpose, and they’ll remain that way.”

Red sighed. “Good. Posing for a community service project is one thing, but I would be in trouble with the department if any of these were to be published otherwise.” He seemed relieved.

“What I’ll do is put together some of the best images, and then we can go over them together. You can choose the ones you want and the one we’ll use in the calendar. I think we already agree on that one, though we could change our minds. Okay?” Sterling was in full-on business mode, and Connor could almost feel Red and Terry symbolically getting out their wallets.

“What do we owe you for today?” Terry asked.

“Nothing. The session is being donated to the project. Normally a session is much longer, but for the calendar, we’re using shortened sessions. If you want to book something for a different occasion, that would be great as well.” Sterling gave them each a card. “Give me a call in about a week. I’ll have the images reviewed and we can go over them.” Sterling shook hands with both men, and Connor did as well. Then they left, carrying their gym bag along with them.

“Man, that was intense,” Sterling said as soon as the door closed. His shoulders slumped, and the air seemed to go out of him.

“Yes, it was. But really good.”

“You saved it,” Sterling told him. “You were the one who saw what was wrong and figured it out.” He sat in a chair, his legs apart, head resting back. “Most sessions are like this, high-energy, and it always saps me. I have to put so much out there that when the session is over, I have nothing left.”

Connor pulled up another chair and sat next to him. “Is that what it was like when you were working with Alexander?” He needed to know.

Sterling shook his head slowly. “No. Alexander was very different. He was my boyfriend, and we worked differently together. Sometimes, in front of the camera, Alexander came alive, and he was as bright and startling as the first morning sun. Other times he was lifeless, and no one could get anything out of him. At least that’s how it was for me. But he has that face and hair that everyone loves, and he’s been trading on that for a long time. Initially I worked hard to pull the best I could from him, but toward the end….” Sterling shrugged. “There was only so much I could do, so I took the pictures, and people clamored to buy them.”

Connor chuckled. “Who knows? Maybe the vapid look is in now. Remember some time ago when everywhere you looked, all you saw were these models that were so small and skinny that you swore they’d disappear if they turned sideways?”

Sterling rolled his eyes. “It’s still that way. Beautiful women with normal, healthy figures, they classify as ‘big’ models. It’s really disgusting. And don’t get me started on the guys. Maybe that’s why Alexander has done so well. He has a look that’s all male, sexy, and all he has to do is walk into a room and heads turn. You know who and what he is.” Sterling sighed. “Can we not talk about him?”

“I like that idea.” Connor leaned against Sterling’s shoulder and closed his eyes. “When is the next appointment?”

Sterling placed his finger under Connor’s chin, and he lifted his head. “The rest of my day is clear.” The intensity in Sterling’s gaze drew Connor like a moth to the flame. “What do you have planned?”

“I need to go in to my office this afternoon. I have some department meetings, and I need to plan the fall term. There are some things I want to change. Freshman history class, the one that many students take because it’s required, can be dull and uninspiring, so I try to change the class every year in response to what’s happening in the world. I think it’s important that my students understand that no matter what the problems of the day are, there really isn’t anything new, just a new spin on an old issue.” He loved that he could make history relevant.

“Do you want to come over for dinner when you’re done?” Sterling asked.

“After our meetings, the department usually goes out to eat. It’s a team-building sort of thing and is pretty much expected.” Connor had never tried to figure out how to get out of those before, and now all he wanted was to escape. But he needed to make a good impression on the other faculty since his tenure review would be coming up soon and he needed to stay on everyone’s good side.

“No problem.” Sterling kissed him.

“You never told me when the next appointment is?”

“Tomorrow afternoon at two,” Sterling answered before kissing him again. “Will you be here?”

“With bells on.”

“Now that I’d like to see.” Sterling leered at him for a second, and Connor smiled before being kissed once again. His meeting was going to be a poor substitute.