Dirty Shots (28 page)

“Oh, right.” His shoulders relaxed slightly, his body angling toward hers. This probably made more sense to him in his over-inflated head than the idea that a girl actually just didn’t like him.

“But you know,” she continued, “since I’ve been modeling, I just can’t get enough sex. I’m insatiable. I like it every way I can get it, blow jobs, anal ... I’ve even had a threesome, which was the hottest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

He swallowed hard. “It was?”

She glanced down at the front of his pants, to where the outline of an erection was starting to show.

“Every fucking way, Gavin. I’m so hot right now, just standing here talking to you.” She reached out to hook her finger over the collar of his shirt and pulled him a fraction closer. “My pussy is wet just thinking about your cock in it.” She let him go, licked her lips, and then walked away. Then she turned and glanced back at where he stood with his mouth hanging open. “Are you coming?”

He nodded and hurried after her. She took him down a walkway between two of the faculty buildings and pushed him up against the wall. “So, what do you want first, huh? I bet you’d like my mouth around your cock. All wet and hot, and my tongue all over you.”

Without speaking, he nodded, frantic.

Anya hid a smile and dropped to her knees. She worked his belt and then popped the button on his pants. “Close your eyes, rest your head back against the wall. This will feel so good, I promise.”

Trying not to gag at having Gavin Hollis’s dick so close to her face, she yanked down his pants, freeing him. His cock sprang out, and, working as quickly as she could, she pulled her cell phone from her purse and snapped a picture.

Gavin seemed to realize things weren’t quite going to plan, his eyes opening, looking down.

Anya jumped to her feet and slipped the phone back into her purse. “Gavin, I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last man alive.”

And she turned and walked away, resisting the urge to break into a run.

He shouted after her. “Anya, you bitch! Fucking prick tease!”

She grinned and kept walking. She headed up to the dorm she used to share with Nadine, and knocked on the door. Technically, this was still her room, but she didn’t want to impose.

“It’s open!” Nadine’s voice called back.

Anya pushed open the door to find Nadine lying on her bed. Her old roommate’s eyes widened at the sight of her, and then she jumped up and pulled Anya into a hug.

“Anya! You didn’t need to knock!”

She untangled herself from Nadine’s embrace and shrugged. “I know, but I didn’t want to interrupt anything.” She gave her friend a wink.

Nadine laughed. “Things have been pretty dull on that front. You’re the one getting all the action at the moment. How is the famous photographer?”

“He’s great. Actually, I wanted to give you something.”

“You did?”

Anya nodded. She reached into her purse and pulled out a slip of card, and handed it to Nadine. “It’s a ticket for Saturday night’s exhibition. I’d love it if you could make it. I need all the support I can get.”

Nadine gave a squeal of excitement. “Of course I’ll come! I can’t wait. Hey, are there going to be any hot single guys there?”

Immediately, Anya’s mind jumped to Logan. “Funny you should say that. I don’t know that he’s definitely not seeing anyone, but I promise there is going to be an extremely hot guy you can ogle over.”

“Even better. I can’t wait. Plus, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, but just because I’m not living here anymore doesn’t mean we can’t still hang out.”

She lifted her eyebrows and widened her eyes. “Even though you’re hanging out with your hot photographer?”

“I’ll always have time for you. No matter what.”

Anya hugged Nadine, squeezing her tight.

“Actually,” Anya said, letting her go, “there’s another reason I’m here. Do you have access to the school newspaper office at this time of night?”

“Of course. I’m deputy editor now, so I have a key.”

“Would it put you in a really difficult position if I asked you to sneak me in there? I have some posters I need to make, and I could do with some help pasting them all over school.”

Nadine pressed her lips together, suppressing a smirk. “Now, let me guess. This has something to do with revenge on Gavin Hollis, doesn’t it?”

Anya laughed. “You know me too well. I may just have a photograph I think the rest of school should probably see, and I’d like to accompany it with a small article about the teeny-tiny”—she held up her thumb and forefinger to demonstrate—“size of a certain football player’s penis. Of course, I won’t mention any names, as that simply wouldn’t be right, but people should probably be warned what position this guy plays in. It’s practically a public service to all the other women on campus he decides to hit on, right?”

With a mock serious expression, Nadine nodded. “Oh, absolutely. Sounds like good reporting to me, and definitely a public service.”

Anya looped her arm through her friend’s. “I knew you’d think the same way.”

Nadine laughed. “Let’s do this.”

By morning, there would be a hundred or so of the photographs Anya had taken, together with an article accompanying it, pasted all over school. Yes, it was immature, sure. But it sure as hell made her feel better. She’d walk around with her head held high, no matter what. She wouldn’t let him shame her.

Gavin Hollis would get a taste of his own medicine.

––––––––

T
he evening of the exhibition arrived.

The limousine pulled up outside of the Blanc Art Space, Anya sitting with Eric at her side on the back seat.

Eric’s hand squeezed Anya’s and she looked to him nervously.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Nerves tumbled inside her stomach, and she tried to push away the feeling so she could enjoy the moment. A red carpet had been laid out on the sidewalk, leading up to the entrance. A number of reporters waited outside, already taking photographs of the car when they hadn’t even gotten out yet. She was relieved not to see Jonathan Turner among their number.

“Just smile, keep your head up, and don’t say anything,” Eric instructed her.

“Sure.”

Eric got out first, a volley of camera flashes erupting the moment he did so. He reached in and helped Anya from the car. She placed her heels on the sidewalk and straightened, her other hand smoothing down the skirt of the strapless, floor-length red dress she wore. He squeezed her hand and pulled her closer, his cologne sweeping over her.

“You look beautiful,” he said softly against her ear. “You have nothing to be nervous about.”

She gave the briefest of nods and turned to face the entrance. Eric put out his arm to her and she took it, doing as he’d instructed and staring straight ahead as they walked toward the Blanc Art Space. The collection was called
Intimate
by Eric Rutherford. Two large posters displaying the name of the collection were in each floor to ceiling window either side of the doorway. The poster itself was one of her photographs—a black and white side shot of her body lying down, which looked like an abstract landscape, with all the dips and curves.

They swept past the reporters and entered the gallery. It was already filled with people, all smartly dressed, most holding flutes of champagne, while staff flitted around refilling glasses and offering canapés.

A number of people recognized Eric, shaking his hand and congratulating him the moment he walked in. He introduced her to each of them, though their names left her head the instant they were mentioned.

Searching for someone she knew, she caught sight of Logan across the room. He noticed her and smiled. She was relieved to have a familiar face there. This whole thing felt incredibly intimidating.

Logan left the people he was talking to and walked over. He kissed her and shook Eric’s hand.

“Anya, you look stunning.”

“Thank you.”

“Actually, I have a surprise for you.”

“You do?”

“Yes, come this way.”

He led her to another part of the exhibition, where a woman stood with her back to them. She was looking up at one of the larger pieces—a black and white close up of Anya’s face, a gag between her lips, mascara smeared beneath her eyes. The woman turned with a smile and Anya’s heart soared.

“Mom!”

Her mother’s face lit up. “Anya, sweetheart.” She pulled Anya into an embrace.

“Mom, I’m so happy to see you. I can’t believe you decided to come.”

“I couldn’t miss the biggest night in my daughter’s life so far, could I?”

“What about Dad?” she asked, looking around.

Saara Bergman’s face fell. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but he won’t be coming. He didn’t even want
me
to be here. In fact, he said he forbade me to come, but I wasn’t going to listen to that.”

Anya bit her lower lip. “Is he going to be angry?”

She shrugged. “Probably. When is he
not
angry? Everything in the world seems to make him angry these days, and I don’t know if I can live like that. There are other things going on as well...” She trailed off.

“What is it, Mom?”

Saara shook her head. “Let’s just say your father’s so called
values
apparently aren’t that important to him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. We’ll talk about it another time. I’m sorry if I brought you down on your big night.”

“You didn’t, Mom. Dad tried to, but you’re here and that means so much to me.” She paused and then dared to ask, “What do you think of the photographs?”

She laughed and leaned in again and gave her a squeeze. “As long as I don’t think too hard about it being my daughter, I think they’re amazing. You and Eric make a wonderful team. Speaking of Eric, where is he?”

“Oh, he’s doing the rounds with some important people who mean nothing to me. I should probably get back to him, though. I know he wants me to meet the right people in the industry.”

“Of course, sweetheart. I’ve got some people here I’d like to catch up with, too. I’ll let you get on, and we’ll speak again later.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

The two women hugged once more, and then her mother waved at someone she recognized across the room. Anya didn’t need to worry about her mother not having people to talk to. This was more Saara Bergman’s scene than it was her own. Her mother walked away, leaving Anya feeling alone and awkward once more, Logan having already left to continue to schmooze potential clients.

With relief she spotted someone—her long, silky dark hair falling down her back, wearing a little black dress and heels—looking young and beautiful.

“Nadine!” she squealed, waving. Her friend caught sight of her and hurried over.

“Oh, my God, Anya. I can’t believe how many people are here. Some reporters were taking photographs of me outside.” Her eyes shone with excitement. “This is amazing.”

“I know, crazy, isn’t it? Hey, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

She reached out and caught Logan’s elbow as he walked by, pulling him to a halt.

“Logan, this is my best friend, Nadine. I wanted you both to meet. Nadine, Logan owns the art gallery.”

Nadine’s eyes widened as she caught sight of Logan in his suit, his blond hair pulled into a knot at the back of his head. Logan’s gaze flicked up and down Nadine’s body and alighted on her face with a knowing smile.

He leaned in and kissed her, perhaps just a fraction too long. “Nadine, it’s lovely to meet you. Any friend of Anya’s is a friend of mine.”

Nadine blushed, something Anya had never seen with her. She was normally super confident around men.

“It’s lovely to meet you, too, Logan.”

He reached out to place his hand on her waist. “Let me show you some of my favorite pieces. Excuse us, Anya.”

Anya hid a smile as Logan guided her friend away.

“Hey.” A male voice behind her made her jump, and she turned to find Eric looking gorgeous in his black suit.

“Hey, yourself.”

He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “This is all going well, don’t you think?”

She nodded. “Yes, it’s like a fairytale. I can’t believe it.”

“So how about we auction off one of the photographs?”

“Seriously?”

“Only if you want to.”

She took a breath and shook her head. “No, let’s not. I don’t need the money to justify what we’ve done here. Just being here, seeing all these people admiring your work, it’s enough. I don’t need any more.”

He looked deep into her eyes. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “As long as you are?”

He pulled her to him and kissed her. “Looks like they’re only for show, then. Shall we take a moment to appreciate our work?”

Together, they circumnavigated the art gallery, pausing in front of each photograph, remembering the exact moment each picture had been taken. All in black and white, the photographs were exquisite. One of a close up of her face, her cheek pressed to the floor, her eyes wide and utterly innocent. Another of the line of her back, and the top of her bottom, while she peeked over her shoulder at the camera. She understood exactly what Eric had meant about needing to be able to show her face. The whole feel of the collection would have been ruined if he hadn’t. Even the more explicit photographs had an elegance to them, as though she were a ballet dancer caught up in chains and photographed that way. Close up shots of her pussy were barely recognizable for what they were, and instead could have been mistaken for the petals of a strange and exotic orchid.

The images stole her breath.

She should never have doubted him. He was a master at his art.

People began to notice as she walked around, taking in the photographs, and a hushed silence fell over the gathering. She suddenly realized everyone was looking at her, and her heartrate galloped, her cheeks heating.

But then, somewhere at the back of the small crowd, someone began to clap, the sound joined by another and another, until the whole art gallery were applauding both her and Eric. She caught sight of Logan grinning at her, and he gave her a wink. A final set of hands joined the applause and she turned to see Eric clapping as well.