Chapter 15
AFTER DINNER, Sterling cleaned up while Connor sat watching television. He understood how Connor felt, but this was politics, and a local race at that. These things could get ugly and very personal. Connor was just beginning to get a taste of that. Sterling finished up and turned out the lights before joining Connor in the living room.
He seemed to be ignoring the television and staring at the wall. Whatever he was thinking, Sterling figured it wasn’t good. At times like this, he tended to brood, and maybe that was something they had in common.
Sterling picked up the remote and turned off the television, then extended his hand. He didn’t say anything, but Connor seemed to understand what he wanted.
Sterling turned out the lights as they walked through the house, leading Connor upstairs and into the bedroom, where he sat on the edge of the bed. His attitude really concerned Sterling. How was Connor going to make it through the next few months of the campaign if something like this bothered him so much? It worried Sterling, and he knew he had to snap Connor out of it.
He could try sex, but Lord knows the penis was not a healing magic wand—though in the right hands, it could do miraculous things. “Do you trust me?”
Connor nodded. “I do.”
That trust was so beautiful, as was Connor. As usual, he was dressed in a kilt, this one gray, utilitarian, and without the tartan pattern. Still, regardless of what he was wearing, Connor was stunning. “I’ll be right back.” He left the room and raced downstairs and out to the studio, where he grabbed an older film camera and loaded the cartridge with a roll of film.
“More pictures?” Connor asked as soon as Sterling stepped into the bedroom.
Sterling set the camera on the table beside the bed, stalking closer to Connor. “Yes. It’s how I capture beauty. Will you allow me to capture you?” He swallowed. Sterling wasn’t going to do anything without Connor’s permission.
Connor nodded, and Sterling climbed onto the bed, straddling Connor, who stared up at him, mouth open slightly, his lips red, eyes wide and searching. Sterling unbuttoned his shirt as he leaned forward. He parted the fabric as he touched Connor’s lips, baring his chest while Sterling took possession of his sweet, intoxicating mouth. Sterling could kiss Connor forever. Each time there was the flavor, rich and slightly sweet, that was all Connor, but the rest changed each and every time, sometimes spicier and herbal, and it didn’t seem to have anything to do with what Connor had eaten. Not that it mattered. Sterling loved all the flavors of Connor and feasted on his lips for quite a while, building heat, but only up to a point. This wasn’t about sex as much as it was about intimacy, the two of them together.
He pulled back and felt for his camera while holding Sterling’s gaze. “Don’t move,” he whispered and looked through the lens, taking the picture.
“What are you going to use those for?”
“They aren’t for me.” He smiled and lowered the camera. “They’re for you.” He snapped another image and one more, then kissed Connor again before capturing the wildness in his eyes. “These are so you can remember who you are and what you do to me.” He slipped Connor out of his shirt and unfastened the kilt so the fabric flowed free around Connor’s legs.
“Sterling.” Connor smiled and groaned, holding the fabric in place. “I don’t want any naked pictures.”
Sterling grinned. “I said these pictures were for you. If I took naked ones, those would be for me.” He winked and tugged half the kilt open, baring one leg and hip all the way up, and snapped another image. Connor was so enticing, and the camera loved him. Sterling could watch him through the viewfinder for hours. He swallowed hard, his throat dry when Connor sat closer, using his arms to prop himself up.
Sterling took another picture— snap —and held his breath. Connor’s half-lidded eyes glistened, his lips parted slightly, muscles taut and long. His head leaned slightly to the side as the fabric pooled around his waist. Snap . Sterling had trouble keeping his hand steady as Connor drew even closer. Snap . He didn’t move, just let Connor play out in front of him. Sterling held his breath as Connor leaned his head back— snap —raised his leg enticingly— snap—
Sterling wanted to put down his camera, but he didn’t dare. Connor was going with what he’d asked, enticing him, almost daring him to stop. Yet Sterling was unable to. Connor drew him in, and now that he was here, this close to him, he couldn’t look away. Snap .
Connor slowly lay back down, his movements unhurried, deliberate. It might have only taken a second, but through his camera, it seemed to take a long time. Snap . Sterling didn’t want to miss a second, so he continued watching, his finger depressing the shutter button.
He had long ago come to realize that there were some parts of his life that he only experienced through his camera lens. Seeing them was one thing, but capturing them on film or in a digital image was so much better. Not because he could look at them again, but because the camera allowed him to catch something fleeting and search for the perfect. The perfect image, the perfect moment, and maybe, if he was lucky, the perfect human form. Like a Renaissance painter or sculptor, he wanted to use his art to capture the best of humanity. Snap . The images of Connor lying on his bed, gazing up at him, might just be as close to an image of passionate perfection as he could ever hope to capture. Not that he would know until he developed the film, but it didn’t matter. Just seeing Connor this way was almost too good to be true.
“Sterling,” Connor whispered as he settled back on the pillow, the word calling to Sterling’s heart. Without thinking, he snapped another image before finally setting down the camera.
Now he felt as though he could breathe. Sterling blinked and let his mind settle in the present. Connor stretched out, and Sterling leaned over him, kissing those incredible lips once again. He had expected heat and passion, but what he got was almost better. Patience, gentleness, and care engulfed Sterling as Connor’s arms encircled him, drawing Sterling down to the bedding.
“Is that what you wanted?” he asked breathily.
Sterling nodded.
“Good, because I feel like I need a cigarette and we haven’t even actually done anything.” He seemed almost as breathless as Sterling. “I’m looking forward to seeing those pictures.”
“Me too.” Sterling reached for the camera, and Connor drew closer.
“Ummm….” He leaned nearer, and Sterling wondered what was wrong. “Isn’t that number supposed to be something other than one?” He pointed to the exposure counter, and Sterling looked, groaning.
“You have to be kidding me. You piece of….” He wanted to shake the damned thing. “It wasn’t advancing the film. I must have loaded it wrong. It’s been quite a while since I used….” His cheeks heated. He felt like an idiot.
Connor began to laugh, and Sterling glared at him heatedly.
“Damned thing.” He wanted to throw it against the wall, but Connor gently stilled his hand.
“Come on. It’s funny. You misloaded the film and we did all that sexiness for nothing.” Connor rolled to his side and kissed Sterling on the cheek. “Just think about it. I guess you’ll have to do the whole thing all over again whenever I need a little cheering up.” Connor nestled nearer, his warmth joining with Sterling’s. “Only next time, you’ll remember to actually load the film right.” Before Sterling could protest, Connor’s fingers slid along his side, and Sterling squirmed. He did it again. “I’m not going to stop until I get a smile.” Connor’s fingers went wild, and Sterling laughed and shimmied half off the bed.
“Come on,” he grumped, trying not to smile, but Connor’s laughter was contagious. Sterling grinned and grabbed Connor’s hands to stop his tickling fingers.
“Okay, okay. I give in.” He scooted back on the mattress and lay quietly. “I must have loaded the camera a thousand times and….”
“It doesn’t matter.” Connor settled next to him, the kilt fabric draped over his hip. “I know the pictures and things were just a way to distract me and help me feel better, and it worked.” Connor’s hand slid over his lower belly and rested there as he drew Sterling to him. “They’re just pictures, and you can take more.” He yawned, and Sterling knew Connor was right. “We should go to sleep. I have a list of things I need to get done tomorrow, and in the last few hours, it grew immensely. If I want this job, I’m going to need to fight for it. I just need to figure out the weapons I’m going to need.”
“Just as long as you fight Randall, and keep your tickling fingers to yourself.” Sterling got out of bed and cleaned up. By the time he returned, Connor had shed his clothes and was already asleep.
“THAT’S MARVELOUS,” Sterling said. “You need yet another printing?” The calendar was becoming a huge success, and with the local publicity, they had sold out, and Lucille had already arranged for another printing.
“It gets better. Last night, the Philadelphia news station picked up the local story, and now we’re getting inquiries from stores there. The printing company said that if we wanted, they would take over orders and distribution for us. It will cost more per calendar sold, but we won’t have to coordinate all the details.” She was practically giddy, and Sterling was happy for her.
“You know this is causing problems for Connor.” Over the past two weeks, his mayoral opponent had wasted no time in trying to make an issue of the fact that Connor had posed for the calendar. He had even apparently managed to bring it up in front of the council, which was legally dubious, but making a huge deal out of it would only highlight the issue. “And I’m worried about him.”
“I am too. No good deed goes unpunished,” she said gently. “And it sucks, and not in the good way.” Sterling stifled a snort. There were times when she said the most unexpected things.
“What are we going to do?” he asked. “Connor is out there almost every day meeting people and shaking hands. He’s working hard, and I’m afraid that everything he’s tried to do is being undone because of his desire to help.” There was no need to put too fine a point on it. He had been trying to help Lucille in agreeing to take part in this project, and Sterling felt guilty as hell because he had convinced him to run. What he should have done was just pull the calendar from the printers and rework it. But no, he had let it go forward because that was the easiest thing to do and he hadn’t thought they would sell all that many copies. Now the danged thing was making the statewide news, and who knew where it would go from there? Each step in the upward popularity of the calendar meant a step back for Connor and a decrease in his chances of winning the election.
“Let me think about it.”
“Okay, but think fast. The longer these attacks go on, the worse things go for Connor.” Connor had such energy when he was out talking to people, and Sterling saw the way that energy evaporated as soon as he was behind closed doors. It worried him, and the last thing he wanted was for Connor to lose. A door closed in the house, which meant that Connor was back. “I need to go. I’m glad things are going well for the club.” He ended the call and turned to see a red-faced, fuming Connor, who paced the room with all the stomping grace of a lame elephant.
“That bastard. It’s Wednesday, and I was at the farmer’s market talking to people like I have for weeks, and Mayor Dip-twaddle started making trouble. He made a pass through the crowd, and I heard him talking to someone, saying that what the town needed was someone with a good moral compass and inherent decency. That if his opponent could ‘corrupt the garden club,’ who knows what he would do as mayor. Or some such crap.” Connor seethed. “We have to find something to fight back with. If we don’t, then—”
“No,” Sterling told him. “You need to be above this.” Sterling held Connor’s hand. “Getting down into the mud with him isn’t going to help you at all. You need to be out there, and if someone asks you to sign their calendar, you do it gladly and with a jovial grin. Make light of it, like it was fun and that you did it to help raise money for a worthy cause. Don’t get rattled and let that blowhard bother you.” God, he wanted to be able to help him. Connor’s upset was like his own.
He was coming to care deeply for Connor, but Alexander still loomed like a dark shadow over his heart, no matter how much he tried not to think about it. And the fact was, he was falling for Connor a little more each and every time he lay eyes on him. It thrilled him and frightened him. Not that he worried that Connor was like Alexander. It was more his own judgment he was worried about. “Please. If I sounded like I was lecturing, I’m sorry.”
“No. I think you’re right. I let him get to me, and as a consequence, he pushed me away from what I was doing, which is probably exactly what he wanted.” The heat in Connor’s eyes was enticing, even if it was tinged with anger. “Historically, the best politicians are the ones who take adversity and turn it into an advantage.”
“Exactly.” Sterling wished he could do more to help. He checked the clock and stood. “I’m sorry, but I have an appointment in a few minutes. Do you want to stay and have dinner with me? I can make something after I’m done.”
“That would be nice.” Connor stroked Sterling’s cheek, and a zing of excitement raced through him. After knowing this man for months, he still felt like he did the very first time Connor did that. Sterling took his hand, held it to his cheek, and then brought it to his lips.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can. Can I suggest that you call your great-aunt or my father? I’m not good at political matters, but I know that they are.” He gave Connor a kiss and then left through the door to the studio, turning on the lights and getting everything ready for his appointment.
HE HAD little trouble concentrating, which was a relief. His client was a man in his forties who had asked for intimate pictures for his husband as a birthday present. Sterling guided him through the process, and they had a good session, with the sitter becoming more and more comfortable as the session went on. After an hour, he put down his camera, very pleased with the pictures they’d gotten. He arranged an appointment to review the pictures and then saw his client off. When he got inside, he found the house empty and Connor gone… and he smiled.