"Did you take these pictures for clients?" he asked curiously.
"No, I took these photographs for my own personal collection." He appeared confused as to why she'd take pictures of virtual strangers, and she explained. "When I first started taking photography classes in high school, I'd spend my afternoons and weekends practicing by taking pictures of everything, but I was mostly fascinated by people, because their pictures always seemed to show so much emotion. Taking candid shots turned into a hobby for me, a way to escape the world in which I lived and wonder about the other person's life. "
Adrian picked up a photograph she'd taken at a Little League game she'd happened by one morning. "How about this little guy? Is he someone you know?"
"Nope. Another casualty of my trigger finger, I'm afraid," she said jokingly. "I was out one Saturday morning and came across this ball game in progress, so I stopped to watch the kids play. This young boy was up at bat, bottom of the ninth with the bases loaded. He was so disheartened after two consecutive strikes, and you could tell he didn't want to disappoint his teammates by striking out and losing the game. No matter the outcome, I knew this was a picture I wanted for my collection. "
She smiled, remembering how the boy's expression and attitude had changed to determination and what she'd ultimately captured on film. "On the next pitch, he smacked the ball over the fence, and here he was, still standing at home plate, the bat in his hand, his eyes wide with awe and disbelief as he watched the ball soar through the air. The crowd behind him was standing and cheering, and in a split second, he became the hero who saved the game." She cast Adrian a sidelong glance to gauge his response. "It's one of the neatest photographs I've ever taken. "
"It's pretty amazing, actually." He met her gaze, the bright firelight causing his irises to glimmer with blue heat. "I can actually feel that kid's excitement. "
"Exactly." Elated that his own emotions had been touched by a snapshot she'd taken, she sought out an-other picture to show him. "I was at the mall one day, strolling along the upper level, and I happened to glance down and saw this mother and daughter standing outside an accessory store. As you can see, the girl is showing her mother her new belly button piercing and trying to convince her that it's the 'in thing' right now, but mom's not going for it. "
Adrian chuckled in amusement. "Oh boy, her mother has that wait-until-your-father-finds-out-about-this look on her face. "
Chayse lifted a brow. "And how would you know that look?"
"Because it's a universal look among mothers, my own included," he said with a shrug that made the firelight play along the muscles in his back and arms. "Anytime my mother shot any of us boys 'that look,' we knew we were in big trouble when Dad got home. "
She sorted through more photographs, wishing her mother had cared enough to snap out of her depression long enough to take an interest in whatever her daughter was doing—good, bad, or otherwise. Luckily, Chayse's photography hobby had kept her from turning into an outright rebel with a cause. And Lord knew she'd had plenty of cause.
As the fire crackled warmly in the hearth, and with Adrian enjoying her pictures, Chayse continued to entertain him with the stories she saw within the photographs. On some of the snapshots, he even offered his own observations, most of which echoed hers. When she came across a picture she'd taken of a homeless man, her chest tightened with emotion as she remembered that day.
"This is Frank," she said, and showed Adrian the five-by-seven shot of a man sitting on a park bench, his clothes old and tattered. His hands were gnarled and dirty, his face unshaven, and he was holding a crude cardboard sign that said "Will Work For Food. "
"I took one look into his sad eyes and knew he'd lived a long, hard life. I bought him a hot dog and soda from a vendor in the park, and I sat down to talk to him. Despite how gruff and scruffy he looked, he was a sweet man, and when I asked if he had any family, he told me he'd lost his wife and two kids twenty-three years ago in a car accident, and that he'd been the sole survivor of the accident. It didn't take much to figure out that the loss had devastated him, to the point that he stopped caring about anything, including his own life. "
She brushed her thumb along the edge of the photograph, feeling the man's pain and heartache deep in her chest. "I asked him if I could take his picture, and he gave me permission to do so. He even smiled for me," she said, pointing to the man's gap-toothed grin.
Adrian glanced from the photo to her. "I'd bet you were the bright spot of that man's day. "
"I'd like to think that I was. Before I left, I gave him twenty dollars to make sure he had a few more good meals, but he gave me so much more in return." A lump rose in her throat when she thought about her memorable encounter with Frank. "This photo tells a hundred stories, and every time I look at it, I hear a different tale. Crazy, huh?"
Adrian gently tucked wayward curls behind her ear, his expression full of tenderness and understanding, as if he had a direct link to the lonely, vulnerable little girl inside the woman who sought comfort in her pictures of other people. "No, it makes perfect sense to me. "
Her breath caught and held, much like her stuttering pulse and the squeeze of her heart that yearned for all the things she'd grown up without. All the things she swore she didn't need in her life, but Adrian made her believe were possible.
Fears and insecurities reared their ugly heads, and she looked away and began picking up the pictures to put back in the portfolio folder. "Most people read books. I read pictures," she went on in a rush. "And the photos I take outside of the studio are my own personal storybook. "
"I like that," he murmured, more calmly than she felt.
She knew she was babbling—anything to keep the conversation going. "Sometimes I take certain shots of people, and it's like I have a window straight into their souls." Finished putting away the snapshots, she set the folder up on the couch, but couldn't bring herself to look at Adrian again.
But she should have known that he wouldn't let her escape him so easily. His fingers curled around her arm, and he gently tugged her down onto the air mattress, then stretched out beside her, with half his body pressing against hers and a thigh resting heavily between her legs.
He stared deeply into her eyes, so intuitive and determined. "Sometimes people don't need a camera to see into another person's soul," he said, and cradled her cheek in his big, warm palm, forcing her to confront the emotional connection between them that scared the living daylights out of her. "I look into your eyes and I see a little girl who's carried a wealth of emotional burdens for too many years now, and a woman who is afraid to take chances on what most likely is a sure thing. I see a woman who hides behind her camera, even while she tries to uncover everyone else's deepest secrets. "
She shook her head frantically, trying to deny the painful truth he'd so easily unearthed about her. She'd let him too close, shared things with him she should have kept to herself. "Adrian—"
He pressed his fingers against her lips, quieting her.
"You don't need to hide anything from me, Chayse. Ever. I'll always be here for you. "
It was those words that she found the hardest to trust, even though her heart wanted so badly to believe in Adrian—the honorable man he was, and the promises he made. Tears gathered in her eyes and stung the back of her throat. Not wanting him to witness her weakness, her greatest fears, she plowed her fingers through his hair and brought his mouth down to hers.
She kissed him deeply, hungrily, desperately, striving for mindless pleasure to chase away her doubts and uncertainties. Sliding her hand down his belly, she cupped his erection in her palm and stroked him through the soft cotton of his sweatpants. She felt him grow and harden from her touch, and started to move over him to straddle his waist, needing him in ways she couldn't define. Physical need was a given, but it was all the other emotional chaos swirling within her that made her feel as though her carefully guarded life was spinning out of her control.
He caught her around the waist bef
ore she could crawl on top of him and eased her back to his side. She made a small sound of frustration, and he deliberately slowed their kiss, soothing rather than arousing her with the slide of his lips against her soft, yielding mouth. Then he grasped her wrist and rested her palm right over his rapidly beating heart, and held it there with his hand.
He ended the kiss and nuzzled her cheek, her hair. His shaft pressed against her hip, but it was obvious to her that he didn't intend to do anything about that particular discomfort. "Just let me hold you, Chayse," he whispered in her ear.
She nearly broke down right there, but after years of being strong and holding herself together, she was conditioned to keep her emotions locked away tight. And those honed instincts kicked in now, enabling her to keep her tears at bay.
Still, she couldn't ignore his tender offering. He wanted to hold her. When had anyone ever just held her, without the pretense of anything more? And how did this incredible man know exactly what she ached for, right when she needed it the most?
Tired of pretending that she could face the world alone, she sank against Adrian's side, rested her cheek on his chest, and absorbed the comfort and affection he so selflessly offered her.
She closed her eyes, and as he held her in his embrace and she let his strength take over, she knew this weekend together wasn't about sex anymore. Not for either of them.
Chapter Five
Chayse slept better than she could ever remember and woke the following morning to the familiar sound of a camera clicking. Knowing for certain she wasn't dreaming, she opened her eyes and found Adrian standing at the edge of the mattress, her camera in hand, focusing on her.
Click, click, click.
She frowned, unable to believe that Adrian had been bold enough to turn the camera on her when no one ever had before. And especially after their conversation last night. "What are you doing?" she asked warily.
He flashed her a killer grin that looked positively devious combined with the dark stubble on his jaw. "Getting even. "
"Oh, ugh!" She put a hand up to ward him off, but he was a man on a mission and kept taking her picture anyway. "Adrian, I look like a wreck!" And no way did she want to be a part of her own private collection.
His dark blue eyes peeked up at her from above the camera, and he waggled his brows. "A beautiful, gorgeous, sexy wreck. "
She rolled her eyes at his misplaced flattery. "You can't be serious, and I've got a major case of bedhead," she complained, knowing her hair was tweaked every which way.
Undeterred, he refocused on her and snapped another shot. "The politically correct term for bedhead is tousled," he informed her, a teasing note infusing his deep morning voice. "And tousled is very sexy. "
She laughed at his attempt at humor and forced herself to relax. To not feel so threatened by her own camera. "I'm grumpy in the morning, especially when I wake up to find someone taking my picture." She stuck her tongue out at him to prove her point.
He captured her petulant attitude and pout on film. "I can handle grumpy," he assured her, and knelt on the mattress to get a close-up of her. "In fact, I know a very good cure for the morning grumpies. "
Her body warmed at the provocative, tempting insinuation in his tone. There had been no making love last night, just cuddling, and she suddenly craved him one last time before she left to return to the city. Before she left Adrian behind, which was the right thing to do, because he certainly didn't need an emotionally screwed-up woman like her in his stable life.
She smiled to cover up the heartache making itself known and stretched, causing her T-shirt to ride up on her belly and tighten across her breasts. "Tell me more about this cure of yours, Mr. Wilde One. "
He paused for a moment to stare at her hard nipples before lifting his heated gaze to hers. "I promise to share my therapeutic remedy, just as soon as you cooperate a little for me. Seduce the camera, and have a little fun with this. "
How many times had she told Adrian the very same thing? "I never thought those words could come back to haunt me." Even though the camera unnerved her because she knew what depths a photograph could re-veal, she resigned herself to this playful, intimate moment between them.
She made it a game of seduction in her mind, her ultimate goal to make Adrian lose control and forget about taking her picture. First, keeping herself covered with the thin thermal blanket, she peeled off her T-shirt and tossed it aside. Then she wriggled out of her boxer shorts, then her panties, which she tossed at Adrian, managing to land them on his shoulder. He picked up the scrap of fabric, and grinning like the bad boy he was, he brought the silky material to his nose and inhaled deeply.
"God, you smell good," he groaned, and breathed in her scent again before dropping her panties to the floor and returning his attention to the camera, and her. "Flash me some skin, sweetheart. "
She lowered the covers to the upper swells of her breasts, and slipped one leg out so she was bared to the curve of her hip. Lowering her lashes, she smiled provocatively and gave him a sultry, Marilyn Monroe-like pose that made her feel sexy despite her bedhead. Before long, she was lost in Adrian's husky praise and coaxing as he continued to capture her seduction on film, and enjoyed herself and the fact that she was turning him on, too.
Deciding to turn up the temptation a few notches, she rolled to her stomach and let the blanket slide down her back to the base of her spine, so that her bottom was still covered, just barely. Angling her knee so that her thighs were spread beneath the blanket, and using one arm to keep her upper body braced, she slid her flattened hand along her belly. She looked over her shoulder at Adrian, her disheveled hair in her face, and slowly glided her splayed palm downward, until her fingers encountered the creamy, wet warmth of her arousal.
A low, breathy moan tumbled from her lips, and she tossed her head back, the click and whirl of the camera fading from her mind as erotic pleasure took over. Biting her lower lip, she stroked her aching, swollen flesh, and clutched the pillow beneath her breasts as an explosive orgasm beckoned.
She heard a soft, explicit curse from somewhere behind her, and gasped in startled surprise when the blanket was yanked away. Before she could react, Adrian was covering her from behind, gloriously naked, his skin searing hot, his body hard all over. Especially the erection nestling so insistently between her spread thighs.
She attempted to pull her hand away so that he could take over, but he wasn't having any of that. He grasped her wrist and kept her fingers in place. "No, don't stop," he ordered gruffly in her ear. "Guide me in. "
She caressed the head of his cock with her fingers, lubricating him with her moisture before poising his shaft at the core of her womanhood. His groan vibrated along her back as he slid in an excruciating inch. She arched her bottom against his hips, seeking more, just as he surged forward and filled her.
His slow, gyrating thrusts gradually gave way to deeper, heavier lunges that possessed and claimed her in an inherently primitive way. Reaching up, he entwined the fingers of the hand she'd curled into the pillow and slipped his other hand between her body and the mattress. He cupped her breast in his palm, squeezed and fondled the pliant mound, and lightly pinched her nipple between his fingers before skimming his hand lower, along her belly and down to her aching sex. His fingers joined with hers, adding to the hot, wet, slippery sensation along her clitoris, the dual erotic stimulation causing her to whimper and rock frantically against his pistoning hips.
"Come for me," he rasped, and she felt his thighs tighten along the back of hers, felt his hot, damp, panting breaths rushing against the side of her neck, along with the arousing scrape of his unshaven jaw. "Oh God, Chayse, now, "he growled, and pressed both of their fingers against her cleft, as deeply and rhythmically as his wild, untamed thrusts.
Her release crested right when his did, and they both rode out the exquisite pleasure of bodies meshing, hips pushing and straining, inner muscles clenching, and an incendiary heat that consumed them both.
Long
moments later, Adrian rolled to his side, cradled her back against his chest, and whispered huskily in her ear, "Are you still grumpy?"
She laughed, unable to summon a grouchy reply, even a playful one, when she felt so sated. "Not in the least. What an amazing cure you've come up with," she murmured. "Ever thought of putting it on the market?"
"Can't," he said, and dropped a warm, lingering kiss on her neck. "The remedy was designed solely for you, no one else, so I think you're stuck with me. "
His meaning was clear, that he wanted to be stuck with her for a long time to come. She swallowed hard, battling more emotions, more insecurities, and feared that there was no cure or treatment for a troubling past that would always come between them.
Adrian's lungs burned and the muscles in his thighs flexed and bunched as he sprinted up the steep path weaving alongside the hill behind the cabin. He'd been out jogging nonstop for nearly an hour now, letting the clean mountain air clear his mind and using the physical exercise to pump him up for what lay ahead between himself and Chayse—a confrontation that would state his intentions and force her to finally acknowledge that there was more than just great sex between them.
The bit of solitude and mindless activity also gave him time to think, without Chayse distracting him with her luscious body and innate sensuality he couldn't seem to get enough of. Out here with nothing but nature's beauty to inspire him, he was able to finally come to terms with his own feelings for Chayse.
He was falling in love with her.
Wilde Novellas Page 22
