Camera Shy (25 page)

"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 soon 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.

"Tourists?"

He shrugged. "I guess so. Not really the season for them." He shrugged again.

"But I doubt they'll find us where we're going." He winked at her. As they continued through the maze of inlets and straights, there were fewer and fewer other boats. Soon, they were completely alone.

Simone watched the crystalline water for jumping salmon and scanned the cloudless sky for bald eagles. She loved this place. God, she loved it. Never in her life had she found a place more peaceful, more serene, more beautiful. She looked over her shoulder at Jason, watching him steer the boat, his brow furrowed above his sunglasses as he watched the water ahead of them. He glanced at her and smiled. She returned the smile and turned her gaze back to the scenery. No, there was no place in the world where she could find peace like this, and no one else in the world she wanted to share it with. She realized now that when she was in L.A. and wanted to come back, it was not just Jason, it was Tofino. She was nearly as in love with Tofino as she was with Jason.

Wait. No. I'm not in love. No, it's too soon. This is just—it's—oh hell, I don't know. But
no, I can't be in love
. She bit her lip as her heart sank in her chest. She was thankful Jason couldn't see her face just now. All the guilt came rushing into her mind, weighing so heavily she half-expected the boat to list beneath her. This wasn't fair to Jason. She was leading him on.

But at the same time, she'd never been so happy with someone. Maybe, in spite of her objections, this
was
the right thing for her. And with all of her fears and worries, really, what harm had come of it? She was back in the game with her career, she'd had less to drink in the last couple of months than she usually had in one night, and she was getting the best sex she could remember.

He didn't push her to figure out how she felt, but sooner or later, he would want an answer. And he deserved one. Especially after she'd cancelled on him before at the last minute. He needed to know about Cecily, and Gregory, and everything else, sooner or later. Why couldn't she just tell him?

She wrung her hands in her lap. He deserved an answer; she just didn't know what that answer was. And now that she knew his history, she was even more terrified of telling him the truth.

Jason suddenly cut off the engine, startling her out of her thoughts. She turned to ask him what was wrong and he pointed off to the right. She followed his gesture

toward shore. There, just before dry land, three round, shiny objects bobbed in the water. After a moment, she realized the objects had eyes and long, twitching whiskers. A second later, all three disappeared beneath the surface. The water shimmered in three ripples heading toward shore, where the otters shot out like bullets with barely a splash between them. The trio paused and stared at Jason and Simone, round black noses sniffing the air.

Simone laughed aloud. She glanced back at Jason, and he gave her a smile. A moment later, the otters disappeared into the forest. Simone watched the empty shoreline for a long moment, waiting to see if they returned.

Whatever it was that Jason and Tofino were doing to her, she loved it. The serenity of the secluded village and the calm of Jason's company intoxicated her. There was a freedom here, with him, that the bottle had never offered. It occurred to her then that she couldn't remember the last time she'd had a drink, besides the occasional glass of wine with Jason. Maybe, just maybe, this was better for her than she realized. She wasn't ready to say the words, not quite ready for the commitment that came with giving voice to what quietly simmered within her, but with each passing moment, she was more and more certain.

I love you more than life itself, Jason, she thought. She looked at him, a shudder rippling through her in response to the sexy half-grin he shot her.
I just hope you'll wait
for me to be able to say it
.

They arrived at the crescent-shaped island and tied the boat. After Jason helped her out, he reached in and grabbed a small cooler she didn't remember him loading.

"What's that?" she asked.

He grinned.
Don't give me that grin, Jason, don't you dare; don't you know what it
does to me
?

He took her hand and nodded toward the cooler. "You'll see." He led her toward the shoreline where they had done her photo shoot, where they'd made love on a blanket. She shivered at the memory. Not only had he gotten her

in front of the camera—naked, no less—he'd turned it into one of the most erotic moments of her life.

He set the cooler in the sand and looked around. "Shit, I forgot something." He started toward the boat. "I'll be right back. No peeking in the cooler!" Simone laughed. Jason jogged down the beach to the boat, leaned in—
my God it
should be illegal to have an ass like that
—and grabbed a folded up blanket from inside. He returned to her and laid the blanket out on the sand. He set the cooler beside the blanket. "Join me?" he asked with a grin as he sat.

"You have to ask?" she said with a smirk.

"Well, it seemed like the polite thing to do."

Simone sat on the blanket and he scooted toward her.

"I get the feeling you have something planned."

He tried to look innocent. "What ever gave you that idea?"

"I know you too well." She laughed.

"Well, you're right," he said. He touched her face and brought her almost close enough to kiss. His lips still a hair's breadth away from hers, he whispered, "We're going to spend the entire afternoon out here." He was so close his voice hummed against her lip. "We're going to take our time and enjoy every second." He closed the distance between their mouths and kissed her, slowly, tenderly, his tongue exploring with no urgency at all, as if time stood still until he was satisfied. Each motion of his lips, of his tongue, of his fingers on the back of her neck, was electric on her flesh, her body reacting to every movement as if he was kissing her for the very first time.

His hand drifted under her blouse, his feather light touch on her skin inducing an involuntary sigh. Breathing her sigh in, he pulled her closer, his hand sliding up her back, pushing her blouse up.

He took her blouse off, and, with a swift, effortless motion of his fingers, her bra came with it. The crisp breeze raised goosebumps on her flesh, but it was the sizzling

warmth of his lips and tongue that hardened her nipples. Simone closed her eyes and let her head fall back, gasping with each deliberate, calculated sweep of his tongue. He put a hand on the small of her back, and, his mouth never leaving her breast, he lowered her onto the blanket. He cupped one breast while his mouth worshipped the other. She ran her fingers through his soft but spiky hair. The beginning hints of an orgasm thundered within her, intensifying with each kiss, each touch. God, she wanted him, she wanted him to be inside her right then, but he was in no hurry.