by Lyssa Layne
''May I?'' She wants to take photos of me and the idea makes me a little nervous. I'm not used to being on the other side of the camera; I’d rather be behind it.
''Hmm... Yeah... sure.” I put it on automatic mode for her; it's a little easier for a newbie and the last thing I want is for her to get frustrated with all the settings and miss one of the most incredible cities in the world. Abbie holds the camera in her little hands, and I slip the strap around her neck, just in case.
''Come on, Presley. Model for me.'' She's pretending to be a photographer and I grin. ''Come on... just pretend like you're modelling in a Calvin Klein ad.'' I start posing, just to make her laugh. Her laughter is like a drug, and I can’t imagine what my days used to be like before I heard that sweet sound. The sound is literally my heaven on earth. She comes closer and I think she’s going to kiss me.
''Take that off.'' She tugs at my beanie, snatching it off my head and now it’s war. Nobody ever gets to touch my beanie, I always wear it when I’m doing a shoot, it’s practically an expectation from my clients. I try hard not to laugh. ''Abbie, give it back.'' I shake my head a little; my hair’s all flattened out. ''Abbie, this is not fair.'' Click click click. Damn it, she’s taking photos!
''Presley, you are such a girl.'' She throws the beanie at me.
I laugh at her statement. ''Abbie, you are such a....” I shake my head and grin. “Damn, I can’t even say anything mean about you.''
I capture her hand in mine and pull her closer, kissing her again. I’m so addicted to those lips. I want them to be available to me, always. ''You are adorable, Miss Rylee.'' I change the settings on the camera, moving my face closer to hers as I take a few shots of us together. ''There, enough for now or I’m gonna be late for the shoot.'' I kiss her forehead. ''Are you coming with me, or do you want to do some sightseeing?''
“Of course I’m coming with you.'' She slaps my butt playfully and for the first time, I think I’m getting to see the real Abbie. She's perfect.
''Maybe I could get us coffee, while you get set up,'' she proposes.
Hell, she is perfect. ''Sure. I’ll have whatever you’re having.''
If life is going to be this easy with Abbie, I'm in. So far, things are so natural and uncomplicated. I give her directions to where I’m doing the shoot and watch her walk down the street towards a Starbucks. I’m excited about the day; convinced that nothing can go wrong. I head back to our room, transfer the photos from this morning onto my computer and grab all the gear I need for the shoot. I run to the elevator and try to clamp down on the ridiculous smile I feel on my lips, but I just can't. I feel like an idiot, but in a good way. Abbie has done this for me.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Abbie
Times Square. I’m absolutely speechless. Me—Abbie Rylee—is standing in Times Square! It’s just how I’d pictured it would be, except ten times better. The buildings are plastered with publicity, there are vendors everywhere and people in every direction I look. I can now understand what it is about New York that people love. Walking down the street, I think back on Presley taking picture after picture before he headed back upstairs. Hopefully, they're not all of me.
I grin, thinking about the look on his face when I stole his beanie. The beanie makes Presley look both rebellious and mysterious, which only serves to make him even hotter. He’s so happy when he's taking pictures.
I loved the look on his face when I asked him for the camera. I’m happy that he agreed to let me, even if it was begrudgingly. I take a few moments before heading into the coffee shop, just breathing in the moment, enjoy this new life. Enjoying the thought of him.
***
After my Starbucks trip, I return to the hotel with coffee and sandwiches. I'm sure Presley will have a million things on his mind and not want to eat, but I’m certain he must be hungry by now. I’m almost positive the Starbucks employees were convinced I was smuggling a bear under my shirt with how loud my stomach was rumbling.
Once I’m back inside the Marriott, I find the set with only a couple wrong turns along the way. Right away when I walk into the room I’m uncomfortable, intimidated and ready to bolt. I don't see Presley anywhere. The only thing I focus on is the models, and they leave me absolutely speechless. They’re all so young and striking. Their hair, makeup and clothing are exactly like I’ve seen in fashion magazines. I love the edgy style they have going on.
I'm suddenly uncertain about whether I’ll stay. Glancing around the room, I see Presley’s cameras and equipment spread all over the place to one side. It’s so much more than I thought; abruptly reminding me this is the real deal. He is a professional photographer, a famous photographer. I set Presley’s coffee and lunch next to his equipment on a long table.
When Presley enters the set, he stares at me as if I’m the only person in the room, but I notice all the models are staring at him and there’s a carnal look in their collective eyes. There's nothing official between Presley and me, but I’m clearly jealous of the attention he’s garnering. And I hate admitting it.
''Hey, Abbie, love!'' He wraps his arm around my waist and kisses my neck softly.
''I got you coffee and a little something to eat.'' I smile, but it's artificial and forced. My discomfort has struck me hard and as much as I want to stay here, see Presley in action and support him, I also can’t deny that all I want to do is leave.
''Perfect, I’m starving.'' He grabs the paper bags, shakes out the contents, and starts eating. It’s a stark reminder that this is normal for him. ''Are you okay?'' he asks between bites.
''Yeah, yeah... I'm okay.'' Cue fake smile number two.
''Don't be intimidated by this...'' He motions towards the set. ''This is... well, it’s a lot of work on the set, but it's nothing really...and the girls...I think they’re all about seventeen. It’s crazy. It's a perfume ad, so it shouldn't take too long to shoot.''
Presley isn’t nervous and he doesn’t even seem to notice that the other girls in the room are barely dressed. It makes me feel better. ''Yeah, well... like you said it's a lot of work. What can I do to help?''
He glances across his equipment, taking mental note of everything. ''Hmmm... For now there isn't much to do.” He indicates towards where the models are being primped by the designer and make-up artists. “They're running late.''
I move closer to Presley, and wrap my arms around his shoulders. I need to feel his body against me.
''I needed that, too.'' He kisses my hair and holds me tightly against him. He breathes against my neck, which sends shivers down my entire body. I love his kisses and they always leave me wanting more. We eat our lunch and I spend the time adjusting to my new environment. People are running in every direction, the pace is hectic all around us. Make-up artists, directors, and stylists – it's enough to make me dizzy.
When they’re finally ready to start the session, Presley's supreme concentration reduces him to silence. He makes final adjustments to his camera and the first model appears.
“Can you hold the bottle of perfume in the palm of your hand?” He gives her specific orders, letting her know what he wants and she does exactly as he asks.
She’s tall, thin with long black hair and baby blue eyes. The same color as the perfume. Honestly, she’s the type of girl who catches the attention. These perfume ads won’t go unnoticed.
Presley takes numerous shots while she takes different pause. It looks effortless. Sometimes she smiles, and other times, it’s all about her eyes. As if they could smile.
I have to admit, his way of working with the models is impressive.
***
The session is done. Presley took hundreds of pictures, and gave dozens of commands to the girls: place your arm like this, your legs like that, smile a little more, smile a little less, smile naturally. He obviously knows what he's doing, and it amazes me. He's really good at what he does and the people who hired him seem extremely satisfied with the shoot.
It’s inspiring. I bet Presley’s family
is proud of him and his success. Every move he made; every click of the camera just made him radiate talent and utter sexiness. Presley was the only thing I could focus on throughout the entire shoot and I’m not at all ashamed to admit that. My gaze kept focusing on the tattoos on his arm, visible with the shirt he’s wearing. I love it, but I can’t explain why it fascinates me so much. I think it just adds to his charm. I must be the shittiest assistant ever, because I didn’t do a thing. I just stood around watching him.
The models are leaving the set, and he walks back towards me. ''Done. I am done.'' He says, opening his arms ready for me. “Come here.” I don't hesitate and meet him halfway. I’m treated to a kiss on the lips this time and I'm loving it. Presley looks exhausted; he worked hard all day and hardly slept on the flight.
''What do you want to do now?'' he asks.
''I don't know. What do you want to do? I mean, you must be tired.''
Presley shrugs. ''Yeah, but like you said, we’re in New York. There's no way I'm going upstairs to the room to sleep. There has to be something else to do in this city.'' He slides his hands slowly down from my waist to my behind. He’s never done it before, and I'm certainly not going to stop him.
''We could take a walk. Central Park, maybe?'' I’ve seen it in so many movies and it always looks so romantic.
''Sounds good. I just need to take my gear back to the room.'' He squeezes my behind and it sends an electrical charge buzzing all over my body. Sexual tension is definitely building between us.
The sun is almost gone, and we're lying on a blanket in Central Park. This place is even better than what I'd seen in the movies. It’s an oasis surrounded by concrete. Everyone seems happy, exercising or simply sitting with friends and talking. It isn’t anything like the forests we have in Washington, but I adore the vibe around here. Presley's sitting against a tree and my back is leaning on his chest. He circles my waist with his arms, beneath my t-shirt. I love the feeling of his skin against mine. It's an indescribable sensation. So incredibly warm and soft, his touch brings a sense of deep contentment. He continually kisses my neck; I'm certain I’m never going to get tired of this. His affection, his tenderness– it makes me feel so loved and safe. I never felt like this when I was with Dean. I realize everything is happening too quickly, but in all honesty, I don’t think I’m strong enough to slow it down. I don’t want this to slow down. There is not a single thing wrong with Presley; he’s everything my heart and soul need.
''Can I ask you something... personal?'' I ask. I’m suddenly nervous, certain I shouldn’t have voiced the question aloud.
''Yeah, sure.'' Presley doesn’t hesitate.
''Who is the woman—the one who’s tattooed on your chest?'' His whole body tenses behind me, and I definitely regret asking. ''Forget it, Presley; you don’t need to answer that question. I was curious, that’s all.''
He visibly forces himself to relax and I turn a little, so I can see his face. ''No, it’s okay, Abbie. It’s my mother.''
''She’s stunning.'' I admit. I pause for a few seconds, but he doesn’t say anything more. ''You look a lot like her.''
His smile is serene. ''Everything about her is in the past. She was an artist, a free spirit, you know?'' He sighs and a few tense seconds pass before he continues. ''She left us. My brother, Joshua, my dad, and my sister – she left us when I was five years old. I heard she passed away, years later.''
''So the last time you saw her, you were five years old?'' It’s so sad and my heart breaks for him.
''Yeah. I don't remember much about her. I remember she would play the piano, and her voice was soft, melodic, but that’s it.'' He sighs. ''Joshua remembers more about her than I do. He was eight.''
''I’m sorry.'' I shouldn’t have asked about her.
''Don’t be sorry. It's alright now. I wish she had stayed with us, but she made her choice, and that’s okay too. We all make choices in our lives, and some have more impact than others.''
I turn around so we are facing each other. He is so mature about his situation, so matter of fact. He seems at peace with his mother’s decisions. ''My dad died, two years ago.” I admit quietly. “He had cancer. My mom's alive, but I don't know where she is. We don't talk anymore. I don't have any brothers or sisters, so I’m pretty much on my own nowadays.''
Presley leans forward and brushes my hair back from my face. ''No, you’re not alone, Abbie. You have me.'' He's right, I have him and I love it. My heart is more than happy to hear him voice it... and I want him to say it again because it sounds too good to be true.
''Yes, I do.'' I press a kiss to his lips, pleased that he’s just as serious about this fledgling relationship as I am. About us.
''I like you, you know that, right?'' he whispers huskily.
''I think I do.'' He kisses me back softly and passionately. ''I want you to be mine,'' I admit shyly, not convinced I should have said it aloud. Maybe I should have kept my thoughts to myself for a while longer.
''I already am... I'm yours, love. All yours.'' He places his index finger under my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes; those ravishing and stunning grey eyes. ''I feel it with you, Abbie, I really like you, and I think you’re incredibly special. I know all this is happening too quickly, but I’m convinced we’re better when we're together.''
He's right, because I think the same way. I feel safe with him, complete, and most importantly, I’m happy. I don’t intend to let him go.
''It’s only been a few days since I met you, Presley. You’ve gotten under my skin.'' I lift my gaze skyward, trying to control my emotions. ''I'm not saying we need to jump into things right now, but when I'm around you, everything is so much better.”
I’ve just declared my love for this man, without using those three magic words, and I’ve never felt better. A tear rolls down my cheek. It’s a tear of happiness.
Presley
Her body is lying against mine; and her perfume is exactly what I need to survive. I don't need oxygen, I need her. Always. I’m starting to fall for her. There are feelings building inside of me.
It's almost clear in my head, but I think I need to give her more time. She just went through a rough break up. Everything about her makes my heart swell with emotion. I need her. She’s given me my life back; she inspires me in my work. I’m so happy that I’ve found her, and that I’m getting to know her. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman. We could stay here like this all night, and it would be the most precious night of my existence. I don’t want her to move away from me. I don't want to lose her warmth against my body.
''Maybe we should go before it gets too dark,'' she suggests.
''Really? I don't want you to move, it feels too good having you against me.'' I’m pathetic, almost begging her to stay.
''I’d feel just as good in a warm bath, don’t you think?''
''Torture. This is pure torture.'' She laughs. ''Okay, let’s go, love.'' I pat her on the behind, before I let her go, very much against my will.
We're walking side by side, and for some reason, I find it incredibly awkward. Maybe it’s because we're not touching physically, for the first time in hours. I don't know; it just doesn't feel right. I reach for Abbie’s hand and it immediately changes my mood. She's smiling; which makes me think she needed the physical contact too.
Back in our hotel room, Abbie's obviously exhausted. I can see it in her eyes. I order room service, because I’m certain I’m about to die from starvation. Abbie’s changed into her pyjamas. Well, I use the term pyjamas, loosely. It’s a Kings of Leon men’s t-shirt and a pair of very tiny, boy-cut underwear.
Hell, I don’t know how I'm going to resist her. I’ll have to sleep on the couch, there’s no way I can share the bed and not make love to her. She's deliciously hot, and she doesn't even realize it. I close my eyes, forcefully clearing my mind of my rampaging thoughts.
I think I’m good, but then Abbie’s hands move up my chest, and she wraps her arms around me. Her touches make my ins
ides tighten and I shudder with need.
''Thank you for the amazing day,'' Abbie says, pressing her body against mine. I think I'm in heaven. Life can't possibly get any better.
''Thank you for making this day amazing and unforgettable.'' I breathe her in as I tease a little, partially in jest, but partially desperate for her. ''Pyjamas already? What about the warm bath?'' I kiss her neck, her earlobe, and at last, her lips.
She bites her lip, as if she’s deep in thought. ''Maybe we should wait for your food. I would hate to ruin bath time when someone knocks at the door to deliver it.'' She's teasing me, I’m sure of it. ''I could go in and wait for you there, if you wish, Mr. Presley.'' Who is this girl, this temptress? Is she kidding, or is she for real?
''What are you doing to me, Abbie? You might as well stab me in the chest, because you’re killing me now. So pretty, so smart, and now you’re trying to seduce me.'' I laugh, trying to keep the mood light. ''I think you should go and take that bath; it's probably the safest place for you right now.''
She nods and walks toward the bathroom, taking off her t-shirt as she goes. Shit, she's topless now, and all I can see are her amazing curves, and how sexy and petite she is. She glances at me over her shoulder, and smiles, torturing me even more.
I can hear her humming a song from the bathroom. I think it's Roberta Flack's ‘The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face’. It's a true classic, very passionate.
I pace impatiently in the hotel room, waiting for room service to arrive, devour the food within five minutes and almost run into the bathroom, determined to discover if she was teasing, or meant to share the bath with me.
I find her in the bath with her hair up, no makeup on, and she is absolutely stunning. She moves in the bathtub to give me some space and offers me a shy smile. I undress rapidly and settle in behind her. She leans back on me, just like we were situated at the park when I was leaning against the tree. Once again, I'm in heaven. She caresses my calves and my feet, while I massage her neck delicately. She’s tense.