Behind His Lens(61)

“Very,” Jude mocks dryly. My head snaps up just in time to see him start to turn and lead us over to the set.

The other photo shoot I did with him was closed, but since we’re outside, on-location, all of the crew is standing off to the side, either working with lighting and diffusers or running around looking for accessories and swimsuits. I can feel their eyes studying my movements, adding onto the growing mass of fans and paparazzi staring from the other side of the barriers. I know they aren’t staring because I’m famous, they’re merely curious about what all the fuss is about. If I could, I would will them all away. As it is, I’ll need to block them out completely or I’ll freeze up for every shot.

“Let’s start with some poses in the sand,” Ryan instructs. “And then we’ll move into the water. I think that might be where we get the best shots.”

I nod, turning toward the camera and taking a deep breath. I shift around in the sand, getting a feel for the way the bikini highlights certain parts of my figure. I lengthen my neck and then my side and before I know it, Jude's clicking away and the shoot is in full swing. The island breeze blows back my soft curls and the sand feels warm and inviting beneath my feet, but I can’t seem to get the crowds out of my head. I’m posing for the camera, but my body feels stiff. Even though I try to keep my gaze over the ocean, I can’t seem to move past everyone’s judgments. Are they wondering why I was picked over everyone else to be on the cover while I’m standing here like a limp noodle?

“More, Charley! Those arms look dead,” Ryan instructs, trying to liven me up. His critiques don’t help though, they make me even more self-conscious and I have to fight the urge to clam up further. Relax and move.

Another few shots pass and I know I still haven’t given them anything that’ll sell magazines.


“No, too robotic. Loosen up,” Ryan huffs, clearly annoyed.

I smile tightly and shake out my limbs, trying to free my mind, but Ryan’s commands don’t feel right. They make me tense up even more. I roll my neck over my shoulders and take another deep breath, willing the island scenery to calm my nerves. But the bright flowers, palm trees, and vibrant water aren’t enough to distract me.

“Hey, Charley, look at me.” Jude’s dark voice croons over the waves, and I comply immediately, sweeping my gaze up to him. Looking at him then was like watching my desire unfold. He’s dropped the camera away from his eyes and he’s wearing one of his dimpled smiles across his handsome features. The moment I focus solely on him, my pulse picks up and I start to lose myself in his magnetism. He’s all that matters.

“You look beautiful. Look at the camera and move for me.” His eyes implore me to follow his commands, and suddenly, the rest of the crew fades away and it’s just him and me. He steps forward, strengthening our connection, until my body softens beneath his gaze.

My limbs start to move as if he has them wrapped around his finger like a puppeteer. The weight of his intoxicating masculinity melts away my fear as I press my arms together down my side. I know the pose will push my breasts together in an alluring gesture for the camera. Then, I slowly slide my hands down my thighs, staring right at Jude as my fingertips graze the skin below my bikini bottom. He nods and I can just barely make out his devilish grin beneath the camera lens. I keep moving, experimenting with different poses, arching my back, stretching my arms above my head, and angling toward the camera. I rise up onto the balls of my feet so that my legs stretch out gracefully. My back arches sharply and my butt sticks out as I drag my hands through my hair.

“Much better, Charley!” Ryan yells, but his shallow voice sounds like it’s coming through a tunnel. I’m moving for Jude, no one else.

The tropical sun pours over us and a bead of sweat runs down my neck, along the valley of my breasts. Jude pauses, pulls the camera away, and eyes me dangerously. It’s the kind of look he’d have before flooring a car down a long dirt road: impulsive and alive.

“Let’s move to the water,” Jude commands. My cheeks flush under his gaze, and I wonder what he thinks of the photos so far.

As we step closer to the slow-rolling shore, I shake out my hair and let it fall alluring around my face.

“Stay facing me,” Jude directs, “and walk slowly back into the water, like you’re inviting me in with you.” I keep my gaze on Jude and do as he says, letting the tropical waters lap up around my feet. With a seductive little wag, I draw him and the camera toward me and he keeps clicking away, stepping closer and closer. Once my ankles hit the water, I drop down onto my knees and part my thighs alluringly, trying to show off the bikini bottom. I’m hardly an inch or two into the water, but it feels so refreshing against my skin. I sigh happily and dig my toes into the sand.