Gale #3
He studied the image, seeming impressed. “Nice.” Then he turned it on me. “Your turn, Mr. Know-It-All. Do I get a smile this time?”
“Why are you so adamant about taking my picture?”
I expected a smartass response, but instead, Ozrik glanced over the top of his phone with an exaggerated pout. “Please? You’re purtiful. I can’t help it.” Despite the illusory flirtation, the request carried a hint of sincerity I wasn’t sure what to do with.
In a moment of unnatural bravery, I tapped my camera case. “Tit for tat. If I smile, I get to take your picture too. With a real camera.”
Ozrik barely thought about it. “Deal.”
My stomach fluttered.
“You first.” He positioned his phone again. “Do you need prompting?”
“No.” Smiling on demand for photographs wasn’t my thing, but repeating his ridiculous phrases would only turn my cheeks crimson, and that was far more embarrassing.
The first attempt didn’t satisfy him. He coached me through another. And another. The fourth time he snapped a picture, he stared at the phone screen for a long time before nodding. “Purtifully perfect.”
“Can I see it?”
“Nope. It’s all mine.” He tucked his phone away.
I would have argued, but he motioned to my camera case. “My turn.”
It took longer to adjust my settings than it did with a phone. By the time I was ready, a sheen of sweat made my palm slick. I had no idea why I was nervous.
Portraits weren’t my usual genre of photography. I was a landscape and nature-focused artist. As I aimed the camera at Ozrik, he posed, showing the cocky, self-assured side of himself and openly flirting with the camera.
I deadpanned. “Really?”
“What? I’m modeling.”
“You’re too close, and the background is all wrong. Let’s move over there.”
We relocated from our spot on the roots to the streambank. I studied the landscape and guided him to a particular spot where the moon entered the frame, and the trees in the background weren’t as dense.
Satisfied, I framed the shot to ensure all the elements were as I wanted them.
“Happy yet?” he asked.
“I think so. Smile.”
Ozrik didn’t smile. He posed with a look of seduction worthy of Vogue: a slight parting of his lips, a half-pout, and lidded eyes. He hooked his thumbs in his jeans pockets and flicked his wildly untamed hair off his face. The position accentuated his biceps.
My mouth went dry as I tried to act unaffected.
Why was this man here with me?
I took far longer than was necessary to center the picture, hoping that the earthquake rocking my system didn’t mess up the shot. When I was satisfied, I clicked the button.
“Did you get it?” he asked when I lowered the camera.
“Yeah.” I couldn’t look at him and busied myself putting the camera away.
By the time I finished, he had moved in beside me. I fumbled the strap, meaning to hook it over my shoulder, but he took it from my hand and set it on the ground.
“What are you doing?”
“This.” Ozrik clasped my waist and backed me against a nearby tree. “And this.”
His mouth was on me in seconds. The kiss was a thousand times more intense than the two we’d shared previously. The softness and fullness of his lips were my undoing. He pressed me against the tree, his body a hot, hard line against mine as his fingers dug into my hips.
“Okay?” he asked into the kiss.
I made a noise of assent before he delved his tongue into my mouth, where it unapologetically lashed and clashed with mine. He tasted of something sweet and pepperminty, not toothpaste but candy or breath mints. I couldn’t decide which and didn’t care enough to spare it further thought.
It took every ounce of focus to keep up. My inexperience must have glowed like a neon sign. I didn’t know what to do with my hands. When our teeth clacked several times, and our noses seemed to always be in the way, I expected Ozrik to get frustrated, but he didn’t.
He pushed my shirt up and pressed his hands against the bare skin beneath. The blistering heat of his palms set me on fire. My skin came alive. My blood surged, hot and heavy, pooling below the belt. I was ten seconds from full cardiac arrest.
Only when Ozrik pressed his groin against mine did I realize he was in a similar state of unrest. The world spun, and I couldn’t process everything at once.
How did people do this? It was like my atoms were being torn apart.
It was sensation overload of the best kind, but I was going to embarrass myself if he kept it up.
Ozrik broke from my mouth, panting and smirking. Mischief sparked in his eyes.
My lips tingled and burned.
“Fuck. Do you feel it?”
“What?”
“The electricity.”
I didn’t understand.
“Zap, Gale. Every time.”
“Oh.”
I knew exactly what he meant because I felt it too. Every time. The shock was no longer physical, but it was there. Snapping under the surface of my skin. Reaching for him.
The next kiss was bruising. When he dipped his fingers beneath the waistband of my jeans and stroked them back and forth over the sensitive skin below, my stomach quivered, and the muscles pulled taut.
He paused at the button. “May I?” His voice came out thick and raspy. He licked his lips, and they glistened in the moonlight. “I want to touch you, Gale.”
“I…”
Swallowed hard, unable to form words. I desperately wanted to say yes, but I also knew that if his hand came in contact with anything beneath my underwear, I would explode. It would be over in seconds, and I would be utterly mortified.