14. Asher
14
ASHER
“ H ey, Asher. Are you done for the day?” The receptionist accepts my folder and offers the tray for my borrowed camera.
“Shooting, yes. I might take a wander through the studio and see who else is open though.” This studio takes privacy very seriously but every so often, other photographers open up their rooms to observers. It’s a great way to learn and to get tips on different angles or lighting ideas that might not come naturally, so whenever I have the chance, I take it.
“Sure thing.” She smiles at me, then taps the black book on the counter. “Just don’t forget to sign out when you leave.”
“Will do.” With a smile, I move past her desk and head down the hall. Luckily, the woman who nearly walked in on me and Emma isn’t working today or that exchange could have been a lot more awkward.
Emma.
What a woman. One taste of her and I’ve been hooked. The fact that she’s a student at the college where I work hasn’t done anything to dampen my desire for her. If anything, knowing she’s on the same campus as me adds a layer of excitement and yearning, forever hoping I will bump into her. Especially this week since I heard through the grapevine that she’s been having a rough week. She’s ultimately who I look for as I wander the studio, peeking into each room that’s allowing visitors today.
I can’t get my mind off her, and the urge to help her take her mind off things, or give her a comforting ear, rises. I barely know her and yet I want to. I want to know everything about her, every detail that makes her tick.
Luck is on my side as I head down the far corridor and spot Emma walking out of one of the rooms with her camera in hand. Her focus is down on the device, and her short hair creates a soft curtain around her face, making only the edge of her dark glasses visible. I study her, from her ample chest down to her curvy waist and that gorgeous ass. By the time I reach her, my attention is back on her face.
“Hey.”
Her head snaps up and tired eyes relax the moment she spots me. A bright smile stretches across her ruby-red lips. “Well, hey there.”
“Camera troubles?”
“Maybe.” Her nose scrunches up, making her glasses rise slightly. “The shutter is stuck and making the exposure far too long on my pictures. It would be alright if I wanted every picture to look like there was a ghost in the background.”
“Want me to take a look?”
“Sure.” She offers me the camera with a tired sigh. “I’ve tried everything.”
Taking her camera, I begin to fiddle with the switch and the shutter, but my attention mainly remains on her. “How are you doing?”
Emma shrugs one shoulder. “Fine. Same old, y’know?”
It’s a very non-answer and I want to dive deeper. I want to be there for her, somehow. “I’ve been thinking about you.”
“Really?” Something suddenly lights up behind Emma’s eyes, like a light turned on somewhere inside her.
“Really. A lot actually. It seems since our tryst on the flower petals, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. How crazy is that?” One good smack and the shutter finally pops smoothly back into place.
“Very crazy. Honestly, it’s been a wild start to the week,” Emma replies. Her teeth snag lightly on her lower lip as she takes the camera back. “You really are good with your hands, huh?”
“Oh, you have no idea.” This close, the sweet scent of her jasmine perfume soaks into my skin. I want to bathe in it. Have my clothes soaked in the scent so I can always be reminded of her.
“Well…” There’s a slight purr to her tone, but before she can continue, the door to her room opens, and a voluptuous woman pokes her head out.
“Any luck, doll?”
“Yes, actually.” Emma turns to her with a bright smile. “All fixed, thanks to Asher.”
“Well, thank you.” The woman grins at me. “You here to keep an eye on things?”
“Oh, no.” Emma chuckles. “I’m sure Asher?—”
“Actually,” I interrupt gently. “I wouldn’t mind observing. I don’t tend to photograph people so I admit, I’m curious. Would that be alright?”
Emma glances between me and her client. “Only if you’re comfortable?”
“Sure!” The woman laughs deeply. “Some eye candy might bring out my inner sex goddess.” With a hearty chuckle, she heads back inside.
Emma turns to me, her cheeks flushed pink. “Are you sure?”
“Mostly I just want an excuse to spend some time with you,” I admit. “But I am always open to learning.”
Emma’s blush deepens and a cheeky twinkle glints in her eye. “Alright. Let me teach you a thing or two.”
I’ve spent my years pouring hours and hours into my passion behind the camera, but watching Emma work, I felt like I was a student all over again. Within minutes, she had put her model at complete ease and set to work, and the pictures were gorgeous. Her use of light to catch and highlight curves while keeping an air of mystery completely enthralled me, and I spent the next few hours in awe, watching her work. Half the time, I became distracted by how she moved around her studio. How she bent and leaned and curved her way around like brush strokes capturing a work of art.
I was very disappointed when it was over.
“Well?” She looks up at me, one hand on her laptop as she finishes going through all the pictures.
“You have a really good eye,” I reply, unable to hide my smile. The eagerness for my approval in her eyes just drives my need for her all the higher. I don’t know why she’s so under my skin. Never has a woman consumed me so quickly. I’m a willing spark falling into her flames and just hoping for another touch of her warmth.
“You really think so?” Emma tilts her head. “You don’t think I go overboard with the shadows?”
“No, I don’t.” Placing my hand over hers, I scroll until I locate my favorite picture. “Honestly, the work you do is for your client so as long as they are happy, nothing else matters. But this? Not only are you creating art, you’re bringing out an inner beauty that only you see, and presenting it to these people as wholesome truths. Reminders for when the head demons might get too loud.”
Emma studies my face for a long moment, then she drives her elbow lightly into my ribs with a gentle scoff.
“You’re just saying pretty things because you want into my pants again.”
“You wound me.” One hand presses against my chest in faux pain. “I would never lie about something we’re both so passionate about.”
“Ah, so you don’t want into my pants?” She lifts one brow and a teasing smile graces her lips.
“I didn’t say that.” Catching her chin, I tilt her head up and force her focus onto me. “But, how about we get some coffee?”
Emma’s smile softens. “I’d like that.”
Half an hour later, we stroll back from the coffee place with cups in hand. Emma walks beside me, often bumping lightly into me as we walk, but I don’t mind in the slightest. I want her to be as close as she can, and out in public like this, there’s also the subtle thrill of knowing I’m breaking a shit ton of rules.
“So,” Emma begins after a sip. “We bumped into each other and I learned you were a teacher, but you never told me what it is you do?”
“Oh, well I’m a professor of horticultural.”
“Like … farming?”
“No, that’s agriculture.”
“Oh.” Emma snorts in amusement. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. But I do work with plants. I specialize in grafting plants together. Mostly I follow a way to teach people the importance of grafting, especially when it comes to helping stop certain species from dying out. Or if we find something with exceptional properties but it’s being killed by the weather or humans, we can graft and hope that seedlings will take on traits that enable that plant to survive for longer. It gets extra interesting when we consider how many species we’ve lost to deforestation or?—”
I catch myself and chuckle.
“Why did you stop?” Emma looks up at me with wide eyes, and such a warm curiosity that a strange heat flutters through my chest.
“I was rambling.”
“I enjoyed it,” Emma says. “Listening to you talk, it’s nice.”
“It’s just as well we spend our time on different sides of campus,” I muse quietly. “I would never get any work done if you were down the hall.”
“What?” Emma laughs. “Why?”
“Because I’d be doing everything I could to see you, just so that you could look at me with those eyes while I ramble about bringing back extinct plants.”
“Everyone has a passion,” Emma says. “I like listening to passionate people.”
“Now you’re trying to get into my pants.”
She shrugs, draining her cup. “Maybe.”
Tossing it into a nearby trash can, we approach her car and the sight of it brings me to a halt.
“What?” Emma stands between me and her car. “What’s wrong?”
“Is tarp over the window a stylistic choice?”
“Oh.” She huffs out a laugh. “My car was broken into a few weeks ago and my father, as part of teaching me a lesson about finances, only repaired the major things. I have to pay him back and find a way to pay off the rest but it’s not as bad as it looks, I promise.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, just cracks on that window and I still need to get one of the seats reupholstered, but it’s whatever. A work in progress, right?”
Her smile is so bright, I can’t decide if she’s trying to persuade me or herself. Regardless, it’s sincere enough that I reach for her hand, and thankfully, she doesn’t pull away.
“Have you considered getting real clients?”
“I have clients.”
“Ones that don’t apply through a studio that takes 35% commission.”
“You think I’m good enough for that?” Emma wanders closer to me as we reach her car, and I nod.
“I know you are.”
“You must really want in my pants, huh?” Her soft smile melts into a smirk and she slides one hand up my chest to rest against my clavicle.
“Maybe I do.”
Out in public like this, it’s a risk, but the parking lot is somewhat secluded, and it’s late enough in the afternoon that no one should bother us. So, when she tilts her head up and slowly licks her lower lip, I take the bait and lean in to kiss her.
Her lips are pillowy soft, just like I remember. A hint of coffee and caramel lingers on them, and as I kiss her deeper, her lips part, and she invites me in. I clutch at her waist and press her up against her car, crowding her in with my body as if I can hide her from all wandering eyes. Her arms loop around my neck. She pulls me down as I press in and taste every sweet inch of her mouth. Her body is a warm, soft line against my own and each breath drags her breasts slightly against my chest. I press closer, shoving one leg between her thighs in order to steady myself. She moans softly. One hand slides up into my hair and tugs while the fingers of her other hand tease along the nape of my neck.
I kiss her deeper and our lips weave together, dancing between insistent presses, licks of tongue, and soft gasps for air. Warmth floods in the gap between us and before I know it, Emma’s grinding her hips against my thigh. I don’t even think it through. I lift onto my toes, driving my thigh up higher, and when she whimpers against my lips, I know I made the right choice.
My tongue weaves deep, caressing her own. Cupping the side of her neck, her pulse flutters frantically against my palm. I press closer. I want to feel every single curve of her body against mine and the only thing stopping me is the fact that I would press her into the car. That wouldn’t be comfortable.
So we kiss like maniacs, denying breath and thought. Like it’s our first and last ever kiss while she grinds against me. The heat of her core bleeds through the fabric and she warms my thigh, teasing me with what I desperately want.
Then, suddenly, Emma stutters and she whimpers loudly into my open mouth. Her soft fingers become claws in my neck and a shudder crashes through her entire body. Leaning back, I study her carefully as I try to work out what I just did.
The deep, crimson flush on her cheeks is a dead giveaway. I glance down to where her hips stutter in their grind against my thigh.
“Did you just …”
“Come?” she gasps, her eyes shining. “Yeah…I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t you dare.” I kiss her again, hungrily this time. “Do you know how good it is for my ego that you came just on my thigh?”
Emma laughs, peppering kisses over my lips. “I got carried away.”
“Please do, although…” I catch her chin between my thumb and forefinger, making her look me right in the eye. Then I lift my leg, pressing against her sensitive pussy and she whimpers.
“Next time I make you come, it’ll be clothes off and behind closed doors.”