Touch of the Camera (3 page)

My lips burned for a kiss. I opened my mouth when Shang spoke up.

“Luna, I wanted to tell you the photo shoot was excellent. You’re a real pro.” His voice trembled.

“I enjoyed it, too.”

He smiled. “I had no idea how this was going to work, being my first shoot with people and not trees and water.”

“Me neither. I mean, my first adult shoot. I’m so used to smiles and cutesy stuff that it was nice to sex it up a bit. Made me feel like a real woman.”

“You are a real woman.” His voice was deep, husky, but didn’t have an ounce of hesitation. I looked at his lips, the way they parted and his bottom lip quivered.

Shang reached out to touch my cheek. I found myself leaning into him, enjoying the feel of his warm hand on my skin. His cologne invaded my senses and each fibre came alive, like electricity shooting through me. I inhaled more of it, trying to memorise the way my body reacted to it.

I looked up at Shang and before I knew it he was pushing me against the wall, his eyes intent on mine. I didn’t want to fight back. Lower on my body, his cock pressed into my pelvis. My breath stopped and I couldn’t think. At the same time, I over-thought. So many questions, all unanswered, ran through my head.

Shang touched his lips to mine and my mind erased everything but the feel of him. He was soft, like silk. I opened my mouth and he began licking my tongue. I wrapped my hands in his hair, forcing him as close to me as possible. As our tongues intertwined, a moan came from my throat that surprised me. Shang loved it—I could tell by the chuckle deep in his chest. When we came up for air, his eyes danced, light twinkling in them. He moved down to my chin where he placed featherlight kisses. I leaned my head back, allowing him more access.

How could a man make me feel this way? My past lovers had never done anything like this. It was as if Shang could read my body’s needs and was more than happy to fulfil them. As he slithered down my neck, gently sucking the skin near my collarbone, I knew I couldn’t take it. I wanted him.
Needed
him. I hiked my leg over his hip and pulled his body close so I could feel his length. He took hold, kneading into my sweats, grabbing my thigh like he could have ripped my clothes off.

Shang trailed kisses back to my lips where we prodded each other’s mouths. The ache running through my body became too much, reaching its peak like I was going to come right there in the hallway.

A loud crash sounded throughout the studio and Shang and I broke apart. We took a couple of seconds to gather our breath. I stared down at my sneakers, not sure what to say or do. Shang placed his finger under my chin, drawing my eyes up to meet his.

“I’d like to see you again and not just at Clemins.”

I smiled, sure I was giddy. “So would I.”

“How about I take you out to dinner tomorrow?”

“Sounds great.”

Shang pulled out a pen and paper and wrote down my address. I knew I couldn’t have done it—my hands were shaking too much. “I’ll see you at eight?”

Trying to think sexy, I winked at him. “See you then.”

Shang took a deep breath before turning to leave.

I waited until he was out of sight before jumping up and down, my hands balled into fists. When I finally calmed down, I sighed that kind of sigh that said how excited I was—I’d have to pick out an amazing dress and some banging shoes to go with it. Even though I’d just met Shang, I was extremely attracted to him. He seemed like a true gentleman and the way he looked at me was new, refreshing.

I left the studio and when I made it to my car, I rested my head back, fantasising about what Shang might wear. As long as he wore tight jeans, I’d be happy.

Chapter Three

As a model I had learnt some very cool tricks, such as only emphasising one facial feature. Playing up the lips meant I’d need to keep my eyes neutral. I’d always felt my lips were my best asset, so I glazed on a plum matte and slicked over it with a crystal shimmer. My dress was simple—a one piece V-neck with thick straps. The bottom was black with tons of feathers. When I spun, the dress floated through the air like wind carried it. The length was perfect, hitting just above the knee. After ensuring my makeup was spot on, I stood in front of my full-length mirror and examined myself.
Classy, if I do say so myself
. And much more covered up than by the lingerie I wore during the shoot. I wanted Shang to see me as a woman and a potential love interest, not a sex kitten. Well, sex kitten was good, but I didn’t want him to be ashamed to take me out in public either.

I walked to my closet and searched for a pair of shoes. Since I was a bit clumsy, especially where Shang was concerned, I picked a low heel. Nothing like falling down on the way to the restaurant. In the back of my closet I found a pair of unbelievable grass-green heels. They were peep-toe pumps so I could show off my perfectly pedicured feet. I slid them on and the butterflies in my stomach came to life. It almost felt like they were going to burst from within me.

The doorbell rang as I rushed to grab my clutch. When I answered the door, Shang was standing, leaning to the side, with his arm on the door frame. He wore a black, button-up shirt, dark denim jeans and a bright red tie. Again I could smell his cologne and my senses ran wild as I remembered how close we’d been, that kiss, those touches…

“You ready to go?” he asked.

“Yep.” I locked the door then Shang took my hand, leading me to his car. He had a big Jeep, a four-wheel drive for the terrain he was used to driving in, and it was a gorgeous emerald green. I ran my hand over the paint. “Beautiful colour,” I commented.

“We’ve got a green fan here?”

I showed off my shoes. Shang’s response was a chuckle. He held my hand as I got in the Jeep before he slid in the driver’s seat and we took off.

At first the cabin was completely silent. I looked around, waiting for Shang to break the ice.
Or maybe I should?
Talking seemed like something we should do naturally. After all, our tongues had been down each other’s throats yesterday. I turned, glancing at Shang out of the corner of my eye. He saw me, turning as well. We both smiled.

“What?” he asked, laughing.

“Sorry. I just… This is awkward.”

“I know. I’m normally not like this, but you’re so beautiful, you make me nervous.”

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Don’t be nervous. Half the time I look like a complete mess. When I’m not working or out in public I’m always in sweats or jeans and a hoodie. There are days I don’t even brush my hair.”

“Ahh, a slob?” His eyes showed how much he was joking.

“Yes, and proud of it.”

We pulled up outside the restaurant. The parking lot was packed—only one spot left, almost at the very back. I climbed down from Shang’s Jeep and he came around to take my hand. He escorted me in, holding the door for me. Inside there must have been at least twenty people in line. I sighed, frustrated that we were either going to have to wait a long time or find somewhere else—I’d been looking forward to eating here. It wasn’t the average mom and pop shop. The lights were dim with stem candles in the chandelier and the walls a beautiful honey colour.

A waitress walked up to Shang and me. “Right this way, Mr Lee.” With two menus in hand, she led us to a table towards the back near a fireplace.
Shang must have some pretty awesome connections
.

When I sat, she placed down a wine glass and filled it. Shang thanked her as she handed us our menus and told us she’d give us a few minutes. Reading the menu, I realised I had no idea what half the food was. I saw shrimp and caviar, but the rest…
Is it in French?

Shang scanned my face before asking, “Not sure what to get?”

I smiled awkwardly. “Not really. I’m so used to burgers and salads.”

The waitress came back and took our drink orders. I asked for a Coke and Shang wanted lemon water. The waitress gave me a face as if she hadn’t heard me right. When she left it dawned on me that I’d ordered a Coke to go with my wine.
Fabulous. Smooth. Way to go!

Shang chuckled and I looked up at him. “What?” I asked.

“Coke and wine? Excellent choice.”

I smirked. “I forgot about the wine. Oh well, new flavours, I guess.”

“That’s a great way to look at it. Now, let me guess, you’re a chicken girl?”

I nodded. “Yep.”

“Grilled?”

“Fried.”

Shang lit up—I imagined from dating so many women who were afraid to really eat in front of a man. New York, much like LA, was known for fashion and fabulous bodies. But damn, nobody could tell me ‘no’ to chicken.

Shang reached across the table and placed his hand over mine. The heat from him,
oh the heat
, it was almost as if the fire danced its warmth across my skin. Whatever the case, it was like my skin was moshing under his touch, forcing more life into each cell. My breath stilled and I had to tell myself to breathe before I passed out. When I did inhale, it was very shaky, like my lungs were tiny balloons, shrivelled and deflated.

Shang smiled, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. Our eyes met and it was enough. That connection, that passion at the studio began to flare up again. By the way Shang’s jaw was clenched I could tell he was feeling the same.

How did this one man, a man who wasn’t stereotypically good-looking, do this to me? How was each one of my senses assaulted by him? I craved more of his smile, that boyish grin that turned sexy with the flick of his eyes. His scent—the cologne mixing with his sun-kissed skin—was so earthy and yet rich like chocolate. The sound of his voice—that oh so sexy, deep voice when he said my name—and when he spoke to anyone else his tenor voice wasn’t nearly as husky. Then his touch… It was hard to put into words how his touch made me feel. Each time it was something new, a surprise how firm or soft he was going to be, but was filled with compassion.

I had liked guys in the past, and had had almost a year-long relationship when I was sixteen, but Shang was different. Everything about him was new and alarming, sending my head into a tailspin. Every second I was around him I found myself wishing more and more that we didn’t have to break apart.

The waitress came out and took our order. Shang did the talking and I had zero clue what he was saying. She nodded and left us with a basket of biscuits.

Shang bit into one. When he had finished chewing, he asked, “So, Luna, how long have you been modelling?”

“For most of my life. My mom saw an ad for a children’s jean company—they were looking for a new face and we were low on cash. It only paid fifty bucks but I got it. The campaign turned into more than a one-time shot. I was literally the butt of the six-year-old jeans’ industry.”

He nodded. “So from kids’ pants to corsets?”

I laughed. “Well, there were a few steps in-between. I’ve done acne ads and some small-time clothing campaigns.”

“Is there anything you’ve always wanted to do?”

“Well, I would love to do a diamond ad. I saw one in
Vogue
where the model was naked with only diamonds dripping from her body. I don’t know about the naked part, but she reportedly had over a million dollars on her.”

He took another biscuit. “I heard about that. Much more fabulous than what I’m used to.”

“So how’d you get into landscapes?”

“Monet. My mother worked at an art gallery in China. I was surrounded by the work of some of the greatest artists of all time. But Monet was my favourite. The way he brought colours and life to simple things many people never pay attention to…I wanted to do that.”

His eyes lit up as he talked about his past then his craft. He truly loved what he did. I asked, “Why work with people now?”

Shang cocked an eyebrow. “I’m not really sure. Wanted to try something new, I guess.”

“And? How’s that working out?”

A smirk tugged at his lips. “So far, so good. I admit I hadn’t heard of you before I was hired, but I’m glad to have met you.”

Truth was, I was glad to have met him as well. Too many people were snobbish, especially to a newbie like me. They didn’t care what I’d done as a child, only what I’d done as an adult—and Dante’s campaign was my first.

Shang’s words echoed through me and I knew a seriously noticeable blush was crossing my cheeks. “Me too.”

The waitress placed our food in front of us. Despite the dish having an odd French name, it actually looked good. The chicken appeared to be fried, or at least crispy. There was some kind of pasta—maybe penne—on the side with seafood in it.

Shang and I ate in silence, every now and then looking up at one another and smiling. The food tasted delicious. Being Indian, I’d been raised on a much different diet. This was a new flavour and I thoroughly enjoyed it. As I chewed a piece of shrimp, I glanced up at Shang to see if he was looking my way. He was! I blushed and quickly averted my gaze back to my plate. This was…unique. Shang was easily in his mid-twenties and yet, we were sitting there like two high school kids.

I liked Shang.
Really
liked him. My stomach fluttered constantly around him and I found myself trembling when he looked at me. He was sweet and passionate about photography. He worked his ass off to get the job done and create immaculate art—that was such a turn-on.

When we’d finished eating, I grabbed my purse to leave but a small band came out and started playing a traditional French dance. Shang stood and offered his hand. I took it and allowed him to lead me to the dance floor. I knew how to move in front of the camera, but I hadn’t really had any formal dance instruction. Shang had been all over the world and I was sure he’d picked up a move or two—hopefully he wouldn’t bust anything too extravagant out on me.

As we made it to the middle of the dance floor, the band saw us and played louder, smiling as Shang twirled me. My hair spun around my face, curls bouncing against my shoulders. Shang grabbed me by the waist and pulled me against him. My breath hitched at the intensity in his eyes. He was totally focused on his moves. We began swaying our hips and I draped my arms around his neck. I stared into his impossibly dark eyes, seeing the happiness dancing in them.