Camera Shy

by Lauren Gallagher

  "Oh God," he groaned, his lips leaving hers and letting her restrained cries escape, the escalating sounds of their simultaneous releases mingling in the narrow space between their mouths.

  "Jason, oh God . . . ." she moaned.

  "Jesus," he growled. He took one last, deep stroke, shuddered, and went still.

  He kissed her, just his lips against hers, until the aftershocks calmed and their bodies stopped trembling. "That was," he said finally, "insane."

  "Incredible."

  He smiled and kissed her gently, started to lift himself off her, but she stopped him. He cocked his head. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing," she said, running her fingers through his hair. "I just don't want you to move."

  He hesitated for a second before settling over her again, careful not to rest his weight on her chest. "I'll stay here as long as you want me to," he said with a soft laugh. She smiled and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck again. On her way to Tofino, she'd anticipated the kind of wild, landing-where-they-fell sex that usually happened when she arrived. She'd needed him, craved him, desperately wanted him to fuck her within an inch of her life, but this . . . . She shivered. This slow, tender, intense reunion was like nothing she'd ever experienced.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Simone avoided Jason's eyes as they sat on his couch, the silence hanging in the air. She chewed her lip; she came here because she needed to talk, to be able to talk face to face, but the words refused to come.

  He took her hand in his, his warm touch comforting, sweet. The brush of his thumb along her palm sent a shiver through her.

  "I don't even know where to start," she finally said.

  "Neither do I."

  She looked at him at last. "I feel like I've known you my whole life," she said.

  "But I know nothing about you."

  He nodded, running his tongue across his teeth as he considered his words. Stop doing that, Jason; that tongue is not helping me stay focused.

  He raised an eyebrow. "What do you want to know?"

  "Anything. Where you're from, your family, where you've been." She glanced at the exotic knick knacks on his mantle. "You've traveled, I assume?" There. That was a safe, comfortable topic to start with. One that just stalled them getting to the uncomfortable stuff, but it was a start.

  Following her gaze to the mantle, he nodded. "I traveled a bit while I was in the Navy." He shrugged. "Nothing overly exciting." He took a breath and held it, tonguing his lip absently. The air bristled with something unspoken. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, and said, "I met my wife on that ship."

  Simone's blood froze. "Your—"

  " Ex-wife," he added quickly, his lips tightening. Time to just jump in and pry, Simone. Get it all out now. "How long were you married?"

  He looked at his left hand, thumbing his ring finger as if in search of a wedding band. "Three years." His eyes narrowed and his teeth clenched. Danger, danger, proceed with caution. "What happened?" He exhaled hard and pressed his fingers against his nose again. "Came out of left field." His tone was venomous with fury. "We were at the hospital, when she had the baby—"

  He's got a kid. Oh my. Well, at least I'm not the only one hiding a baby. Her gaze flicked around the room, searching for evidence, a photo, a knick knack, but nothing suggested a child had ever been here, let alone that he had one of his own.

  "The baby was, I don't know, an hour or two old. Then some bastard I'd never seen before comes barging in and demands a paternity test." He sighed.

  "Oh my God, Jason," Simone whispered. The pain in his voice cut her deep. The shameful memory of the devastation in Gregory's face burned in her gut. She wondered if her ex had ever talked about her like this, with pain in his eyes and hatred in his voice. She couldn't have blamed him if he had.

  "The thing that killed me," Jason continued, "was that she didn't seem all that surprised. She really didn't. If anything, she was pissed that he'd blown her cover." He shook his head. "I was the last to know. I've never felt like such an ass in my entire life."

  "And the baby—?"

  "His." The viciousness in his tone raised goosebumps on her arms, but when he looked at her, his eyes were sad. "One minute, I'm on top of the world: a loving wife, a brand new son. And the next . . . ." He gestured sharply with one hand. "Nothing."

  "I'm so sorry." What else was there to say?

  He exhaled heavily. "Well, I've killed the mood with my confession." He raised an eyebrow. "Same question."

  Simone's mouth went dry. The whole point of this trip was for her to tell him everything, to confess the lies she'd told him over the last couple of months, but that was before she learn about his past. Shit. What could she say? Well, Jason, I basically did the same thing to my husband, including the damned paternity test, but mine was splattered all over the tabloids so the whole world knew about it, except for a heartbroken photographer in Canada who seems to be the only one who doesn't know who I am. She took a breath. "I'm divorced. Three years ago." His eyes silently prodded her to fill in the details. Biting her lip and dropping her eyes, she said, "It still, it's still hard to talk about." Especially after you told me your past, so now I'm scared to death to tell you . . .

  "You don't have to finish."

  I should, I really should, you need to know, but I can't, not without telling you everything I've lied to you about, and I'm just not sure I can do that yet. She took a breath, but the words stuck in her throat.

  He stroked her palm with his thumb and changed the subject. "You've mentioned you and your sister don't get along. What happened?"

  "She and I both wanted to act. We both had big plans from the time we were kids." She swallowed. "But Carolyn got pregnant when she was fifteen. Ten years later, when I was seventeen, I got my first real role." Simone sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "She never forgave me for succeeding. It was like a slap in the face to her, since

  she was suddenly saddled with a kid and her baby sister was actually getting somewhere with acting."

  "But"—Jason furrowed his brow—"It was her choice to have a baby, not yours."

  "I know. But she didn't want to see it that way. Our brother was doing well then, too; his band was getting it together. She—" What? She nearly cost him his record deal and resulting success? Go ahead, Simone, see if he asks what band then, and see if you can explain yourself out of being the high-profile sister of the lead singer. She wet her lips. "Well, she made a few phone calls and damn near cost him everything his band had worked for."

  "Wow," Jason said. "I can see why the two of you don't get along." You have no idea. "It's better. We're working on it."

  "That's admirable."

  "An exercise in futility, if you ask me." She gritted her teeth, swallowing the knot of fury that her sister always brought out of her.

  He squeezed her hand. "We don't have to do this now."

  "Yes, we do," she said.

  "Not everything. It'll all come out as we go along." His thumb stroked her palm again. "When you're ready, I'm listening."

  I'm not ready. No way. But I need to tell you, Jason. I don't want to keep lying to you. You need to know. She took a breath, but before she could speak, he changed the subject again.

  "What really brought you to Tofino? This isn't exactly a dream destination."

  "I needed some time away. To relax, take a break. A friend of mine has a cabin on the other side of town."

  "Some time away from what?"

  "Work. Life."

  "You said you're an actress?"

  "Yes." And a damn good one, apparently, since I've been filling your head full of tangled lies that I'll never be able to weasel my way out of without you hating me.

  "Stage?"

  "Some." She hesitated. "Mostly film."

  He blinked. Then he laughed. "I knew the camera loved you. So what have you been in? Film? Television?"

  She shrugged. "Not a whole lot. A few feature films, but probably nothing you've seen." Otherwise you
would have recognized me a long time ago.

  "Interesting," he said with a nod, but he didn't press. Then he furrowed his brow. He cocked his head. "Yet you're—"

  "Camera shy, I know." She stared down at her wringing hands. "It's . . . hard to explain. It's a long story." One I need to tell you sooner than later, but obviously don't have the guts to do so.

  "I don't want to interrogate you about your life. I'm just curious about you."

  "Likewise."

  He put his other hand on top of hers. "But I do want to get to know you more. I know I put a damper on things, with what I said before you left last time—"

  "No, not at all. It just, it made me think."

  "About?"

  She shrugged. "About what I want out of this."

  "And?"

  "I still don't know."

  He hesitated. "I guess I really don't either. I just—" He shrugged. "I can't pretend not to feel something for you."

  "I know." If you only knew how much I can pretend, you'd never believe me if I told you what I really feel. Hell, I don't even know what I really feel.

  "I guess we'll see how it goes then, from here on out." Forcing a smile, she said, "I suppose so."

  After a long pause, his mouth broadened into a mischievous smile. "I finished with your pictures."

  Another subject change. Rather than getting annoyed, she was relieved and followed suit. "Oh?"

  "Would you like to see them?"

  "Of course!"

  His thumb traced the inside of her palm, doing it on purpose this time, and she couldn't hide the shiver that ran through her.

  He grinned. "It's going to cost you."

  "Is it now?"

  "It is."

  "How much?"

  He shifted his weight and leaned toward her. "It's negotiable."

  "Give me a starting bid."

  His lips were almost touching hers now, and his hand slid around her waist.

  "How about every stitch of clothing on that body of yours?" With a wicked grin, she said, "You're going to wear my clothes?" He laughed, his breath warm against her skin. "No, I'm not." His lip brushed hers as he spoke. "But neither are you."

  "Then what ever are you going to do with them?" She let her tongue flick his lower lip and he released a ragged breath.

  "I'm going to throw them on the floor." He slid his hand under her shirt. "All over the floor." His lips closed around hers.

  In between kisses, she breathlessly whispered, "But I might get cold."

  "No, no," he said, kissing his way down her neck. "I assure you, you won't get cold."

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Simone's narrow frame swam in Jason's oversized bathrobe, but it was soft and comfortable. He showed her to his office, and pulled the chair out from the desk for her. He leaned past her, his light, musky smell brushing past her nose as he moved the cursor around the screen to a folder, opened the folder, and set it to preview the photos.

  "Just use the arrow keys to move back and forth," he said, gesturing toward the keyboard.

  She clicked through the photos. The first few showed her still mostly clothed. Her expression reflected her nervousness more than she expected, but his work was exquisite. She paused on the close-up of her fingers unbuttoning her blouse, the vaguest hint of cleavage behind her hand. For the longest time, she stared at it, amazed such a simple image could be so intriguing, so elegant.

  "These are incredible, Jason."

  Behind her, he exhaled, and she realized he had been holding his breath while he waited for her reaction. She glanced over her shoulder at him and he smiled.

  "I'm glad you like them," he said. "I'm rather fond of the subject, myself."

  "Well, I can't say I'm in love with seeing myself in pictures," she said. It was true; she cringed seeing herself in films, too. "But I love them. I really do." He put his hands on the armrests beside her and kissed her cheek. "Pity we couldn't have gotten pictures of everything after the shoot." She giggled. "Pervert."

  "Guilty," he said. He nuzzled her neck and watched as she continued going through the pictures.

  The photos were in sequential order, and she noticed something about her expression. In the beginning, her tension and self-consciousness bled into every image. Her smile was timid, her eyes shy. But as the shoot went on, as more and more skin showed up in each photo, her smile grew brighter and her eyes more confident. She had never been so at ease with someone, let alone someone who had a camera pointed at her. Even as she stripped her clothes off, moved into a realm of posing she'd never even considered before, making herself more vulnerable with each frame, she was completely comfortable with him.

  He touched his lips to her shoulder. Not a sexual hint, not an attempt to get her attention, just a gentle, affectionate gesture. With her free hand, she stroked his forearm.

  She didn't usually like constant physical contact. When they were married, Gregory constantly had a hand on her or an arm around her. With him, that contact was a protective gesture, but always felt possessive. Clingy. Suffocating. Jason's touch was just comfortable. It didn't say, "Stay here"; it said, "I‘m touching you because I want to." And she wanted him to.

  He kissed her on the cheek and wrapped his arms around her from behind. "I was thinking," he said, "that we could go back there tomorrow. Just spend a day there, enjoying each other, without worrying about anything else."

  "That," she said, stroking his arm with her fingertips. "Sounds like a wonderful idea."

  Chapter Forty-Four

  That night, after finishing the fantastic dinner Jason had cooked, they settled onto the couch to watch a DVD.

  As the movie started, Jason's fingers closed around Simone's shoulder. Absently, he stroked her arm with his fingertips. Not an attempt at foreplay or to turn her on—

  though, good Lord, it didn't take any effort on his part to do just that—just a warm, affectionate touch. At one point during the film, he turned his head toward her, and when she looked up, he tenderly kissed her forehead. So this is why people like watching movies on dates, she thought.

  The tranquility she found in his arms was like nothing she had ever known. She was used to a lover who was just that: someone, with whom she had wild, satisfying sex, then went on her merry way. Arms that held her in front of a crackling fire or under a blanket in front of a movie were never the same arms that held her in the throes of passionate sex, yet there they were.

  When the end credits started, she didn't want to move. She was so comfortable, so warm. He clicked off the movie, but made no effort to get up, his fingertips still

  stroking her arm. She didn't want to change a thing, didn't want to breathe, afraid she'd ruin the moment.

  "Allyson," he whispered, his soft voice breaking the silence. She looked up to answer him, but before she could speak, he kissed her. There was no urgency in his kiss, no ulterior motive, just the softness of his lips against hers. His fingertips stroked the side of her face.

  Her lips parted and her tongue brushed his lower lip. A shudder went through him and he pulled her closer. His tongue met hers, entwined with hers. Time ceased to exist as they kissed on the couch. They weren't making out like a pair of horny teenagers, weren't pawing at each other in a desperate need to get naked. They just held each other and kissed, two people wanting nothing more than to taste and breathe each other.

  He broke the kiss and looked into her eyes, caressing the side of her face. "I could do this all night," he said, his warm breath whispering across her lip. She pulled him closer again. "I'm not going anywhere."

  "Good."

  The tenderness of his kiss almost drove her to tears. She could barely believe he was the same Jason who had fucked her like a madman on his table, against the wall, up against a car in the pouring down rain. Sometimes he was driven wild with insatiable passion, a need to have her right now. But now he just kissed her, held her, his touch soft and gentle.

  If this isn't love, I don't know what is. She stiffened as soo
n as the thought crossed her mind.

  Jason broke the kiss and looked at her. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing," she said.

  He stroked her cheek with his thumb, the rest of his hand cradling the side of her neck. "Are you sure?"

  She took a breath. I'm not sure of anything right now. I'm not sure of anything other than the fact that there is no place in the world I'd rather be than right here with you, but there's

  so much you need to know, so much I need to say, so goddamned much I can't even figure out in—

  "Allyson?" He cocked his head. "Are you sure you're okay?" She wetted her lips. "I need—" She cut herself off.

  His eyebrows lifted slightly. "Tell me."

  She finally said the one and only thing she could be certain of right then. "I need you to kiss me again."

  He smiled, that dimpled smile that was sexy and sweet and mischievous and everything in between. That smile that turned her spine to water and made her head spin.

  "Kiss you again?"

  "Please."

  "That," he whispered, drawing her closer, "I can do."

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Simone only took a moment to adjust to the wobbling of the boat this time, getting her sea legs beneath her within a few minutes. Jason steered them out of Tofino and into the stunning maze of forested islands. He effortlessly navigated the labyrinth of straits and inlets, as if he knew it like the back of his hand. Like the back of her hand. Like any part of her. She shivered.

  "There're a lot of other boats out today," he said, scowling at the various Bayliners and pleasure boats leaving foamy trails of wake in every direction.