Ann’s life was good. She had friends, a great career, and was generally pretty happy. The only thing missing was romance, but she didn’t have time for that anyway. It’d been years since she’d even noticed guys on the street, let alone pursued anything. Sometimes she missed the passion and the thrill, but most of the time she was too busy to notice.
She’d gotten an e-mail earlier in the week from an old friend, wondering about getting a bunch of the old high school group together. She had a free afternoon after teaching her outdoor classes and was going to be in that part of the city anyway. She had no idea what she was in for.
She felt a tingle as soon as he walked in the door.
Their eyes locked for a split second and she caught her breath. He looked nothing like the gangly teenager he’d been ten years earlier. In a leather bomber, black t-shirt and jeans, he was tall, muscular, and gorgeous. Before she knew what was happening she was imagining running her fingers through his hair. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks and bent to examine her boots.
He sat beside her on the couch and she was acutely aware of his leg just inches from hers. She was confused by the intensity of her reaction - usually she was so cool and collected!
The mini-reunion of their high school group was in honour of his few days in town. They chatted briefly, but she couldn’t stay long. As she got up to leave, he grabbed his lighter and came out with her.
Standing outside, she looked everywhere but at him. Every time she caught his eye, her breath caught in her throat. His lips were so luscious, so kissable. His hands were so masculine, she imaged them on her hips, her stomach. She was trying hard to stay cool, but she was desperately wishing she’d tidied up a bit more before coming. She hadn’t expected to be knocked over like this.
They made noises about getting together before he left town, but his girlfriend was flying in, her schedule was tight… When they hugged goodbye she broke away quickly, afraid that one more second of contact would make her do something stupid.
On the way home she couldn’t stop thinking about him. He looked so fucking gorgeous, and she couldn’t get him out of her head. She was imagining things she hadn’t thought about in months, years! It had been ten years since high school, and she’d spent a total of an hour with him, but somehow that had been enough to imprint the deep brown of his eyes in her mind, and she knew intimately the broadness of his shoulders, his height. She could imagine his kiss - smokey and deep. She could imagine a whole lot more than his kiss, if she tried.
The minute she got home, she sat down at her computer and opened her e-mail program.
It was great to see you this afternoon, sorry I had to rush off.
I’m working on my portfolio and I’d love to take your portrait. I’m willing to bribe you - dinner, drinks, you name it, I’m easy. What’s your price?
Her stomach flipped. He had a girlfriend. He probably wasn’t interested. Still, it was just a photo shoot. He’d probably say no, anyway. No harm. She hit send.
Later that night, her program pinged.
A sudden rush flooded her.
When she finally got to sleep, she slept well. Her dreams were delicious.
Two days later they met in a picturesque park on a perfect day. The sky was dotted with white clouds, the air was warm, the light was perfect. She didn’t ask how he’d found time in his schedule, away from his girlfriend. She didn’t mention the meetings she’d cancelled.
As he got out of his truck she took a deep breath.
“So,” she said, nervous, “do you want payment now or later?”
She looked up and saw him gazing at her. His eyes were dark and deep and he leaned slightly forward before cupping her head in his big, calloused hands.
His lips covered hers and she melted against him. His black hair felt as soft under her fingers as she’d imagined, and her knees weakened as his tongue pressed gently but insistently against her lips. He tasted like cigarettes and coffee. His hands slid down her back and pressed her body against his. She could feel him harden against her stomach, and the kiss seemed to go on for hours. She hadn’t been so thoroughly kissed in years.
She finally broke away from him with a gasp, but her hands lingered on his chest for a moment.
“I guess we better take some pictures” she managed to choke out past the tightness in her throat.
“I guess so” he replied. He still tilted his head the way he had in high school, still smiled a little crooked. But he definitely wasn’t a teenager anymore, and neither was she. She bit her lip and smiled before turning away.
Looking at him through her lens he was even more handsome than she’d realized. Every so often they would touch, shoulders brushing as they walked to the next location, his hand on the small of her back as she hoisted herself over a log or boulder. Every touch sent an electric shock through her body, and she thanked the bright sun for allowing fast shutter speeds to hide the shake in her hands.
An hour later, he was sitting on a rock and she was trying to frame the shot. It just wasn’t working. He didn’t turn his head right, his hands were wrong… She came over to manually pose him like some kind of mannequin, laughing.
She touched his chin to move his head slightly and suddenly his hands were on her hips, pulling her onto his lap and his mouth was on hers, his tongue probing deeply. She moaned into his mouth and molded herself against him. She pushed his jacket off his shoulders and his hands slid effortlessly up her shirt.
He lifted her up, her legs wrapped around his waist as he moved to the grassy meadow. They lay down in the grass and he began to unbutton her shirt.
“This is more than one kiss” she murmured, gasping as his thumb grazed her nipple.
“I’ll let you take as many pictures as you want” he replied “but I’m going to have you right now.”
She pulled his shirt over his head and marveled at his perfect torso.
She grinned up at him, mischievous. “If I’d known you were going to turn out so well, I never would have passed up the opportunity all those years ago.”
He didn’t reply except to lower his head to her neck and drop kisses from her ear to her collarbone. His tongue flicked across her sensitive skin, leaving lines of fire. His jacket was soft under her back, and she arched up against his mouth. His hands were working at her belt, unzipping her jeans, pushing them past her hips.
She hadn’t felt like this in years.