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“I don’t know if it would be a kink, just something I’m curious to try. Doesn’t even have to be nude, just sexy, if you know what I mean.”
The people pleaser in me perks up, but there’s no way I’d be brave enough to do that.
He misreads whatever facial expressions I make while considering it.
“I’d really love to take your picture.”
“Cal… I wish I could be that person, to have the confidence to do something like that. But I don’t think I could handle it, putting myself on display like that.” I gulp down the last few sips of wine, just to cover the tremor in my voice.
Cal stands and holds his hand out to me. “Come, bláth fiáin.”
Frozen, I stare up at him, eyes so wide they begin to water. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Do you trust me?”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, I just—”
“Simple question, Beth. Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” I sigh.
Reluctantly, because I’m honestly scared out of my gourd, I give him my hand and let him pull me against his hard body. He kisses me deeply, which has the desired effect of getting me out of my head.
I honestly do trust him. He’s never made me feel anything but treasured and sexy. But that doesn’t mean I’m comfortable enough with my sexuality to just stand there naked in front of someone and let them take my picture.
He leads me to a large bedroom that is sparsely decorated, but beautiful. I look around while I awkwardly wait for him to dig through a closet for something. The walls are a darker grey than the rest of the house, and there are canvases of beautiful acrylic blends of different blues and greys hung on the walls. The furniture is a beachy light grey wood that is beautiful, but doesn’t really fit Cal’s personality. That and the lack of many personal items in the room really drives home that this is just a temporary space for him. He'll be gone in before we know it.
Nine days.
I’ve been trying not to count, but it’s impossible not to remember that all of this is fleeting. How long will he be gone? Will he want to come back? I told him that we’d enjoy our time together and leave it there, but I had no idea just how hard I’d fall for him. Is there any chance he’d want to try to manage a long-distance relationship? How would that even work? And if we did try it, how long would it be before it fell apart because of time, distance, or resentment on either of our parts?
I’d never, ever want to hold him back. So, I’ve avoided the subject and pretended it isn’t happening. But moments like this hit me occasionally, the last time being when Cal had a phone call from World Traveler Magazine a couple days ago.
A flash of light pulls me out of my thoughts. Cal smiles as he lowers the camera, making adjustments to the dials before holding it up again. The lens moves, zooming in on me. It’s awkward enough to make me laugh. The camera clicks rapidly.
“This is fun. Not awkward at all,” I deadpan, lifting an amused eyebrow.
Cal lowers the camera again, letting it dangle from a strap around his neck, then walks over to me to fuss with my hair. Instead of smoothing it down to make it look more presentable, he puts his hands up in it and musses it up.
“What are you doing!?” I squeal, laughing.
“Trying to get you to loosen up a little, my beautiful wildflower.”
“I don’t think I can loosen up while you have that thing pointedat me.”
Barking out a laugh, he says, “just think of it as an extension of me. I know you haven’t had the chance to see it as much, but it’s usually attached to me.” I walked around the park with him a few days ago and watched him photograph some old buildings and wildlife, but other than that, it’s just been the two of us. “Now, smile damnit.”
I smile and make a few silly poses, including shaking my head back and forth at his bidding. But rather than loosen me up, it just makes me feel sad. I try to suck it up and hide it, but my inability to relax ruins the moment.
“I have an idea,” he says. I narrow my eyes warily and he laughs. “I wouldn’t presume to ask you to take your clothes off for my camera.”Good, it’s not happening.“But could I persuade you to let me shoot you wearing my favorite outfit?”
“I didn’t bring a change of clothes. We’d have to go all the way back to my house if you want to do a whole costume change.”
He shakes his head and winks before walking over to the dresser. Out of the top drawer, he pulls a large t-shirt, dangling it in the air with two fingers. He waggles his eyebrows.
“That’syour favorite?”
“My real favorite is seeing you in nothing more than your perfect, delectable skin. Then it would be you wrapped in nothing but a bedsheet. This is a close third, though.” He winks and tosses it at me.
