I drew in a sharp breath. The environment was charged and I was having trouble keeping up. I swallowed hard before opening my mouth to speak, but only a long, loud exhale came out. There was a brief moment when I almost turned to look at him but stopped in the nick of time, remembering just how close his face was to mine. Perhaps our lips would even brush if I suddenly turned to face him.
“That you are,” I finally responded in a near-whisper, “And being passionate is definitely a good thing.”
“Speaking of passion,” he told me, “It was my love for photography that pushed me to pursue another desire of mine. I ended up starting a personal business.” I felt his hand run through a few strands of my hair and, at that, I could no longer suppress the urge to shudder that had been building up inside of me. “Amorous Productions.”
I turned to face him, unable to contain my shock and confusion. The tips of our noses brushed slightly and I jerked my head back with a light giggle. “What is that?” I asked, eyes wide. “Is it…” I trailed off, not sure if I really wanted to know about Brad making what I could only assume was pornography.
Brad chuckled and shook his head, “It’s a photography venture.” Still seeing the confusion in my eyes he clarified, “I love the sculptural beauty of the human body, or the human form. I want to capture its beauty the way I see it through a medium I find moving, which is photography. So I opened up this little business to pursue that. In secret, of course.” The last four words were stern and I knew exactly what he meant by it– Shoot was clueless about his side business and he was asking me to keep it that way.
I stared at him, speechless. There were so many questions I wanted to ask, but I was clueless where to start. Besides, I didn’t want to be inappropriate or come off as judgmental. This, however, was something completely new to me. It was something that would have never crossed my mind. One thing was for certain– I was moved by his passion. In every word he spoke and every photograph I saw him take, even if they were just test or portfolio shots for me, his passion and natural gift were exceedingly clear. There was no way around it.
“Well, I’m moved.” I smiled.
Brad broke out into a grin, “Would you consider going on a tour of my studio? Maybe even try a quick photo shoot?” I broke out in another giggle, trying my best to hide it behind my glass.
“Seriously?”
He instantly stood up and extending his hand, looking me dead in the eye and waiting to see if I would accept. I hesitated for a moment. It was all so intense and things felt like they were moving so quickly, but something told me he would never ask me to do something I was uncomfortable with. Not to mention, I was extremely curious about it.
So I drained my drink before reaching out to take his hand, excited for what else the night had in store for me.
It wasn’t long before Brad and I stumbled into the studio of Amorous Productions. It wasn’t a far walk from the bar nearby. When we walked in Brad didn’t bother turning on any of the lights on, despite taking the time to close and lock the front door behind us. We stood for a brief moment in the dark lobby before he took my hand and lead me straight into a photography studio at the back.
“I’ll be right back,” he let go of my hand and walked off to what I assumed was another room somewhere on the other end of where we had entered. I stood nervously shifting my weight from foot to foot, trying to make anything out in the darkness, but not even the street lamps filtered through the windows.
A moment later I saw a soft glowing light turn on from the room he was in, but it barely reached into the dark room where I was standing. I was able to see what he held in his hands when he returned– a bottle of wine, two wine glasses, and a leopard print leotard. I stared at the piece of clothing, wondering what in the world that was about. I still thought his suggestion of an impromptu photo shoot had been a joke. After all, it had sounded rather erotic.
But now it was starting to feel real and I was unsure how to handle it. I was still sure he would never pressure me into anything, but this entire situation threw me for a loop.
He poured the wine into each of the two glasses and said casually, “You have the most gorgeous breasts and legs I’ve ever laid eyes on.” I had been reaching out to take one of the glasses of wine from him, but I paused. I held my breath. Although he didn’t say it in a creepy or suggestive manner, the statement itself made my heart race, even though it was out of left field.
Brad pushed the wine glass into my hand and raised his own to offer a toast. I hesitantly raised mine and the glasses clinked together.
“You know, they’d look incredibly shapely and beautiful in this leotard.” There was a brief pause in which I tried to catch up to him, slowly processing what he was saying until I realized the “they” he referred to were my breasts and legs. My cheeks burned and my stomach tightened. My entire body tensed. He was so forward and direct, but there was something about it that made my knees wobble. He was still as smooth and confident as ever.
“Would you ever let me photograph you in it?” Brad held up the leotard in his other hand just enough so that the dim light from the other room shined on it.
I pressed the wine glass to my lips and took a long, slow drink. The more I thought about it, the more I started to feel excited. Brad was incredibly charming and he was easily the only man I’d ever felt such a powerful attraction to. Between that and enjoying every aspect of my entirely new life, I felt my inner daredevil starting to bubble up inside of me.
It was true, there was a small part of me that worried about disappointing him, or anyone really, but that was far from my driving force. I had spent the better part of my life living according to customs and values set in my childhood—customs and values set up so that I wouldn’t offend or disappoint anyone. To put it simply, my mother would have a heart attack if she knew what I was doing. But leaving home had only been the beginning of breaking out of that shell. I took another long drink of wine and thought carefully, eyeing the leotard still draped in Brad’s hand.
“Where can I change?” I asked quietly.
“Right here,” Brad replied with his typical half-cocked smirk. Everything was so quiet I could swear I would hear a pin drop in the other room. Then came the rush of blood to my ears and I suddenly felt like I could hear nothing.
Despite my racing thoughts, I reached out and took the leotard from Brad’s hand. The fabric was softer and lighter than I had anticipated.
“Right here,” I pointed to the floor below me, testing him to see if he’d double down. Brad nodded slowly, not once breaking eye contact with me. There was a strong charge between us and for the first time I was sure it wasn’t only on my end. The chemistry was definitely mutual.
My eyes clenched tight, moments of the evening replaying in my head. My heart started to pound, but with that came a slew of new feelings I thoroughly enjoyed– I felt empowered and even sexy. I felt good. It was like the way Brad had made me feel during our photo shoots, only much more amplified and at a deeper, personal level.
Although I had never undressed like this in front of a guy before, the lighting was dim and the man standing in front of me was one that made my skin feel electric. He was encouraging, and dominant, but never forceful. That was easily one of my favorite things about him. I felt safe and comfortable with him even though I was exposed to so many new things and feelings. If there was ever a time to break out of my shell, this was it.
I casually zipped off my dress and stepped out of it. As soon as I was out of my dress the cool air of the studio kissed my skin, causing goosebumps to spread across my tummy. I held up the leotard to spread it out before slipping into it and finding comfort in its softness. Brad barely made a whisper as I undressed, but I knew he was watching me carefully.
“Step back into your heels.” He instructed once the leotard was in place and I fixed it to my liking.
I followed his instructions without thinking twice. Suddenly I was blinded by bright overhead lights and by the time my
vision had adjusted, I saw Brad standing a few feet in front of me holding his camera. I stared at the black device in his hand for a brief moment before giving a curt nod of my head, doing my best to relax the muscles in my shoulders.
“Stand back,” he told me, his playful half-smile setting me at ease.
I took a few steps back until I felt the backdrop against me. I squealed and took a small step forward, placing my hand over my mouth shyly. Then I heard the first click of the shutter. He always loved getting my candid shots more than anything else.
“Try to relax.” His tone of voice was different than what I was used to hearing during our two photo shoot sessions before. There was a heavy edge of passion this time, but there was also something intimate about the way he was directing me. “Run your fingers through your hair.” I heard a couple clicks of the shutter, but when things went silent, I turned to look at him as if I were a lost puppy. That’s when a barrage of clicks came from the camera, too many to count.
“Brad,” I tried to whine playfully but it just wasn’t my style.
I bit my lower lip again and gazed toward the side of the room only to hear more clicks. He wanted me to just be myself. He was so confident those would be the best shots. Recalling one of the first instructions he’d ever given me, I felt the confidence to whip my hair around as I turned to face him and placed my hand on my hip and pushed it out. Immediately, he snapped a few pictures before lowering the camera in admiration.
I turned to face him full on before allowing my body to fall on the floor in a sitting position, one leg draped over the other, my face angled upward. I loved the power he seemed to have over me without even touching me, sometimes without so much as a word directed at me. It was incredible and exhilarating in ways I had never known. I stood up and heard him clicking away. I wondered how on Earth those shots would ever prove to be good ones.
As I walked up to him with a bright expression, he didn’t stop taking pictures. “Let me see them,” I asked.
He looked into my eyes and nodded, but gave me a quick peck on the cheek, right at the corner of my lips, before turning to walk over to the room from where he’d gotten the leotard. He pulled up an extra chair for me behind a large, expensive-looking desktop computer and I dropped down to it, happy to get a break from standing in my heels.
He took the card out of his camera and stuck it into a slot on the computer and pulled up the photos so we could have a look at them together. I had to admit, the leotard looked quite nice even though I originally thought it might be tacky. It was clear, however, that it was a high-end fashion piece.
“You look amazing,” he commented as he continued to click through the photos he took. Some of them looked exactly the same to me, but I was sure an expert like Brad could spot a difference; even if it was just a subtle smirk of my lips or wink of my eye.
“You have a perfect body and could make a fortune working for me. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever photographed.” He paused before turning to look at me with a genuine smile.
My cheeks were red, I was sure, and the fluttering in my chest was strong as ever. My breath caught in my throat and all I could hear was my own heart beating. Never had I felt such an intense chemistry with another person and this felt like a loaded moment.
He leaned in and paused momentarily before finally bridging the gap between us, softly pressing his lips against mine.
My breath, my heart, my thoughts—everything went still.
When he pulled away I inhaled a few times as if I were having trouble catching my breath. Brad smiled smugly before standing up to get our wine glasses from the other room, inviting me to sit on the couch so we could keep drinking and talking.
What I didn’t count on was falling asleep, there on the couch in Amorous Productions, curled up with Brad Hastings—the man who showed me the world without my shell.
It was early morning, but I was already in the kitchen of my Brooklyn apartment making breakfast with my roommates. Although we all got along great and chatted at least briefly at the end of our days, our busy schedules kept us from being able to go out or spend too much time together– it was a rare occasion all four of us had a block of free time together.
“How about going to see an exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art?” Caroline asked as she finished making the freshly squeezed orange juice she’d been working on.
I however remained silent, even then. I had been quiet most of the morning, finally prompting Sarah, “Is anyone home?” I felt Sarah’s perfectly manicured finger poke my arm. I turned to look at her and gave a faint smile; my mind was elsewhere.
“You know,” Nadine started, “You’ve been absent for some time now.” She was staring right at me so there was no mistake who she was talking to. “I don’t just mean today. What have you been up to on your weekends? It feels like we’ve barely even seen you in the past month.” She asked as she ran her hand through her blond hair.
“It’s true!” Sarah exclaimed suddenly, moving up to playfully get in my face. Her brown eyes were always so alive with excitement and I had to bet that was one of the main things that got her casted. “Haven’t you missed us?” Sarah pouted teasingly.
I was spreading mashed avocado on piece of toast and tried to shake off the question by smiling at her, “Of course I do.” I took a bite of my toast and chewed slowly, but it was clear the others wanted to hear more from me. “Not to be a sour apple, but I’ve sort of taken to explorin’ on my own.”
They didn’t have to know what exactly I was exploring. Hoping that answer would be enough to keep my roommates at bay for the time being, I quickly finished eating before announcing that I had to go. I smiled at them and grabbed my purse before scurrying out the door.
As the cool morning air hit my face, I started to reflect on what had happened. Could I really tell them about Brad? I grimaced. They worked with him too so there was always the possibility of things getting awkward and complicated. Furthermore, I didn’t want to blow his cover for Amorous Productions. Telling them about our relationship made that increasingly more likely. He was already thinking about leaving Shoot, but I knew it was something he wanted to do on his own terms. Not to mention, I wasn’t even sure if I was allowed to date someone from the agency.
My pace slowed to a stop and I suddenly began to feel lost. What had I gotten myself into? I had no clue what to even call whatever it was I was doing with Brad. Were we dating? And, if we were, how serious was it? My head started to spin so I held onto the wall of the building beside me in an attempt to calm my nerves.
As much as I wanted to tell my roommates about everything that happened, I couldn’t help but feel afraid. What would they think of my decisions? Would they judge me? Would they go so far as to tell Sonja? Even though I trusted them and doubted they were petty or sneaky people, I also had to consider the possible professional repercussions of opening up about my off-the-clock relationship with Brad.
I sighed and rubbed my temples before continuing my walk to the subway. Trying to clear my mind and get rid of negative energy, I got on the L Train and rode it into Manhattan to meet Brad at his studio. My thoughts and decisions would have to wait. I sauntered into Amorous Productions some time later, quite a bit calmer and feeling excited to see him.
“Hello,” said Chérie, the older French receptionist employed at the studio.
“Brad is waiting for you in the back,” Chérie greeted me with a smile. I gave a small nod of my head before continuing to walk toward the photography studio in the back. Expecting to see Brad waiting for me with a grin on his face, I was shocked to discover something completely different.
I gasped and dropped my bag on the floor, mouth gaping at the sight in front of me. I was staring at a system of hanging black leather and chains, but I had no clue what they were for, much less why they were there now that I was visiting. Brad came out from the side to embrace me before pulling me into a long, passionate kiss.
With the shock of what I’d just
seen and suddenly being pulled into Brad’s arms, I felt like too much was happening and the floor was slipping out from beneath me. I practically collapsed in his strong embrace, slowly getting lost in the kiss.
“I thought we’d try something a bit different today,” he muttered against my lips when we finally broke apart from the kiss.
I pulled my head back to get another look at all the leather and chains. I felt intimidated. As I continued to stare, I started to slowly get an idea of what sorts of objects were hanging up, including a riding crop I’d only ever known to be used on horses back in my little farming town. I gulped; is this what they called BDSM? I heard only loosely of it, but never thought I would experience it.
“What… What do you mean try something different?”
Brad smiled reassuringly and took my hand to lead me to the other side of the studio, where he laid out a leather bodysuit for me to wear. I stared at it for a few seconds before speaking up, “I’m not sure if I can do this. It’s too much.”
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