Binkie's Snapshot

By Rach

A/N: Thanks a million to my fabulous beta, Skye (xbobxbabe at ), whose photography skills and dirty imagination helped bring this to life. And for pointing out all the head-scratching wtf descriptions. Thanks to Linn (RangerCraving at ) for letting me borrow Binkie's "real name" from her story, Binkie Changes His Name. This chapter comes from my contribution to the July "Follow Me" at the Babe_Squad Yahoo Group, so keep your eyes peeled for the complete anthology posted over there. For image inspiration, please see the links in my profile.

All characters other than Sam belong to Janet Evanovich and I'm borrowing them for pure entertainment.

Binkie POV

Shit, I can't believe I'm doing this. When Hal told me last week that he and some of the other men had signed up to pose for the charity calendar Steph was helping her sister put together, I said, "Hey man, good for you." Then I gave him a hard time all week by setting his computer background with pictures of Chippendales and leaving him a care package with tic tacs and a thong. The fact that Ranger didn't know his employees were about to become eye candy for PTA moms was like begging to be pounded into the mats. But hey, I thought, it's his funeral.

When he called up this morning to say he was cashing in on the bet I lost last Friday and I'd be taking his place, I wanted to kill him. Actually, I wanted to kill Lester, since he was the reason I'd lost the bet in the first place. Had I known he was in the club that night, I never would have tried to prove to Hal that quiet guys can still pick up chicks. When Lester Santos steps in, shy guys like me fade into the background.

I'd come straight over from my day shift and was ten minutes early when I pulled to a stop in front of a ranch-style house on the outskirts of Trenton. I checked the address that Hal had texted me and verified that I was in the right place. Wonderful, it's not even a professional studio. I knew Valerie was taking an amateur photography class and that it was the students who were helping put this damn calendar together for her kids' school fundraiser. My photographer was probably some twenty year old college kid living at home who's going to drool and make a fuss. As if this wasn't humiliating enough already.

I hauled myself from my truck, walked up the femininely decorated walkway, and rang the bell. When no one answered after about 30 seconds, I rang the bell again and stepped back off the porch, arms crossed, trying my best to wipe the irritated look off my face. I'm not a big fan of waiting on other people.

I was about to bail when I heard a clatter and an, "Oh shit!" from around back.

There was a gate separating the front yard from the back, though "yard" was being generous. It was more like an eight by three inch strip of grass leading around the right side of the house. I poked my head over and called, "You okay back there?"

I could hear the hesitation when the female voice said, "Umm….No…Not really."

I jiggled the handle on the chest-high wooden gate, but when I looked to the other side I saw that it was secure with a padlock. "Do you need some help?" I shouted back.

"Well… help would probably be good," she said, "but I'm working on it, and besides, the gate and the house are locked up. Just give me a minute."

As soon as she'd said yes to the help, I'd hopped the fence and walked back. When I saw a woman entwined in a mass of black ropes semi-dangling from the back of the brick house, I chuckled. It was like watching a worm on a hook, wriggling about with the toes of one foot barely touching the ground and the other leg caught by a rope under the knee. The sunset light was illuminating her golden brown hair which was currently pulled up in a messy bundle with pieces falling down and hiding her face from me.

Just as she started messing with another rope, I asked, "You still working on it, or would you like a hand?"

She yelped in surprise, jerking a cord in reflex, which shortened another, and her other leg was suddenly pulled out from under her. She lost her balance, falling ass first. Before she hit the ground I swooped in and caught her with my arms under her back, making a slight, "Hup," at the impact.

Her startled green eyes looked up at me and her look of panic turned into one of relief and I had a brief tightening in my chest. Her eyes were screaming "hero worship" and I wasn't really comfortable with that role. Her voice was mostly steady when she asked, "Are you Binkie?"

"That'd be me," I smiled.

"Ugh, this is so embarrassing. I'm sorry, but do you think you could help me out of these?"

I loved that she was actually asking, like there was any alternative at this point. "I'm gonna set you down, ok?"

"Uh huh."

I lowered her upper shoulders to the concrete and the angle made her blue cotton t-shirt slide up to just beneath her breasts, revealing a pale, smooth stomach. She was breathing a bit hard from practically hanging upside down and the sight of her ribs playing peek-a-boo with each breath had me distracted beyond reason. Her head was turned away in embarrassment and I shook mine as I turned to the task at hand.

I made quick work of the gnarled mass of cords that were looped around her foot and with one arm wrapped around her legs to lift, was able to use the slack to slip her thigh free. I lowered her legs gently to the ground and for a few seconds she laid there with her forearm covering her eyes.

Well, this is awkward. I cleared my throat and stuck a hand out, which she used to pull herself up. I started to pull my hand back, but she tightened her hold, then looked me straight in the eye, and with a smile said, "Hi, I'm Sam. I'm Valerie's photography teacher and I'll be your photographer this afternoon."

Gone was the flustered girl caught off guard. I was now staring into the sparkling emerald eyes of a confident, professional woman. Pretty hard to replace a first impression, but she wasn't going to let it shape my lasting impression of her either. I was intrigued.

"Nice to meet you, Sam. I'm Michael, or Mick if you like, and I'm afraid I'm at your mercy today."

"You mean you're not Binkie?"

It had felt natural to give her my real name, though now that she'd called me out on it, I was feeling a little embarrassed. "No. I mean, yes," I fumbled, "but it's just something the guys call me at work. You can call me whatever you want, really." I tried to shrug it off like I was playing it cool, but really, I felt like there was a spotlight shining on my face.

I realized that I was still holding her hand, and she was still smiling at me, when I dropped it like she had Ebola and asked, "So what is all this?" motioning to the scene I'd walked in on.

She had a sweet, self-deprecating laugh and explained, "I'd like to get some shots of you scaling the wall, sort of a bad-boy to the rescue scene. Amidst that pile is a harness and leads. I attached them up on the roof and thought I could pull off a Lara Croft move and slide down instead of taking the ladder." Then she winked and said, "Guess I better not show up at the next casting call."

I felt myself grinning from ear to ear and silently wondered when the last time was that I'd felt this at ease with a woman. A stranger no less. She had a genuine, good natured charisma about her, that, combined with her playful eyes, creamy skin and beautiful body, were making certain parts of me more uncomfortable than I'd like.

She interrupted my thoughts when she said, "I'd really like to get this shot in during the 'the blue hour', which is ideally in about twenty minutes, so do you think you can give me a hand? Can you straighten out those ropes while I get the camera set-up?"

I got to work and was busy trying to sort out the mess she'd fallen into when the flash of the camera went off. I looked up at her and apologized, "Sorry I wasn't ready. I didn't know we were shooting already."

She gave me a look that resembled the endearing patience I've seen my sister use with my nephew. "It's ok, Mick. I'm just trying to get a feel for you in my lens. I'm going to shoot some candid's while you're working so I can make some adjustments. The lighting will be purposefully dark, but I want to be sure I can still capture your smoky hazel eyes and the contrast of your dark hair."

It was reasonable enough, but it made me nervous. I again thought of Hal and Lester and the ways I was going to make them pay for this, losing bet or not.

When I had the equipment in place, Sam asked me if I'd be comfortable taking my shirt off for the shot. No, I wasn't, but I didn't say that. I knew the other guys were posing in some pretty suggestive set-ups, and I didn't want to be the prude. I told her it was fine, but when she just stared at me, I realized she wanted me to take it off right then and there. I turned to face the brick wall, reached behind my head to pull off the shirt and left it in a heap on the ground.

"We're ready, I take it?" I called over my shoulder to her.

"I'm all set."

I started to wind the rope around my thighs and between my legs to create a seat hold when Sam came to a stop behind me and placed her left hand on my bare shoulder and politely asked, "Need any help?"

I jumped at the electric shot that jolted through me when her smooth palm met my shoulder, and I'm sure she felt it, which is more than a little embarrassing. Good god, I can't wait for this to be over with. "No, I'm good. I've been climbing mountains and scaling buildings for years." When you're 6'5", it's a fun way to show off.

"Yeah, I know. It was in the profile you sent back."

Red flag. What profile?

"Hey, uh, Sam? When did you find out I'd be your live prop today?"

"About a week ago, I'd say."

"Son of a bitch," I cursed under my breath. Hal had been setting me up from the beginning.

Before I could get carried away with my thoughts of revenge, Sam leaned in closer and with an innocently sexy voice, said, "You're more than just a live prop, you're what gives the picture purpose."

I turned my head to look at her, but she'd already walked away to take her professional position. I could hear the camera snapping more candid's as I finished securing my gear.

"Ok, what I want for you to do is to climb almost all the way to the top of the wall and brace. I'm going to shoot a few angles from down here, then climb up to the roof to shoot from above."

I heard her clicking away and then she was climbing up the ladder next to me. The ladder was about four feet to my right, but when she stopped mid climb and trained her lens on me, I felt like I was under scrutiny.

I wasn't sure where I was supposed to be looking or what I was supposed to be doing and she must have picked up on my unease. Casually, she suggested, "Hey Mick, will you look over my left shoulder for me?"

I was trying to look to her left, but my eyes kept drifting back to her face. She was focused and half hidden behind the large camera and I thought the way the left side of her mouth scrunched up was pretty cute.

She finished her climb up the ladder and was scuttling across the edge of the roof, making me nervous. Before I could sensor myself, I reacted by saying, "You realize if you fall again, it's gonna be much trickier for me to catch you."

Perched right above me, leaning over the edge, she said, "Glad to hear you'll still be willing to try." Damn, was she being playful? Was I?

The last rays of sunlight had disappeared from the sky behind the house, causing Sam to appear as an inky outline set against the deep blue sky behind her. It was a magical affect and I thought I knew why she called this 'the blue hour'.

She continued to snap pictures with the camera pointed down at me and I was trying to imagine how I was going to look hanging off the back of someone's house, half naked. After a few shots in motion, she called the scene a wrap and we disengaged to move into the house.

Just inside the back door was a very professional looking photo studio that was set-up with a black screen, a pair of skis, and not much else.

"Alright, what I'd like to do now is shoot some backlit winter shots, something that might be good for a January or March scene. I'd like to have you on the skis in a full tuck position, as if you were rounding a corner on a downhill slope. If you're comfortable, I'd like to have you strip completely, or if you prefer, I have a thong you can wear."

The incredulous look must have been plain on my face. As she realized how that sounded, her face turned red and she quickly clarified, "Not one of my thongs. Not that I'm trying to say that I even have thongs," her cheeks were starting to remind me of the claymation Rudolph when his nose cover popped off. "I just mean that I have a brand new men's thong you can wear and I can Photoshop out the lines on your hips."

I know I must have clenched my jaw unconsciously or made some other outward sign of unease, because she immediately started explaining the purpose of her request. "The way this shot works is to have you face me with a light in between you and the black screen behind you, projecting the light forward. It creates a shadowed affect and will highlight the planes of your muscles in a really beautiful way. The position, lighting and angle will not have you," she said, glancing directly at my crotch, "on display."

Sam was every bit the professional, but she was still a woman. She might be hiding behind the messy hair style, casual t-shirt and jeans, but there was no denying her natural beauty and easy grace. If the situation wasn't so awkward, I'd easily be asking this woman for a date. On the chance it could ever happen, I was not about to display the goods for her to sneak a peak with a professional, critical gaze.

I'd never been one for performing a strip tease so when she pointed to the small changing area behind a screen, I gladly retreated. When I'd exchanged my clothes for the grey thong, I closed my eyes and shook my head. How could any guy be comfortable walking around on parade like this?

When I stepped out from behind the dressing screen, I locked eyes with Sam and I saw her eyes widen as she took in a sharp breath. I thought she must have been feeling as embarrassed as I was, so when she said, "Wow, Mick. You're beautiful," I was completely caught off guard.

I could feel my eyebrows approaching my hairline and she took a step forward, saying, "You really don't see it, do you? This calendar is about the quintessential male. Raw, powerful,…elemental. It's about the way women see men. And you," her eyes roamed over my body not as if I were a Chippendale, but a sculpture in a museum, "you can communicate that best in your most natural form."

For the first time in all my twenty-six years I felt like this woman wasn't strictly enamored with the body, but that she could possibly look beyond it to see the man. I gave her a lopsided smile and a, "Thanks."

I strapped into the skis and did my best to pretend I was careening down a black diamond slope in the Rockies. Once she'd brought the camera to her face again, Sam was all business, giving me tips and positioning me in different ways.

I could tell she was in her element, but I was feeling antsy. Other than the clicking and occasional posing comment, it was silent. "So, how long have you been teaching at the university?" I questioned.

"About six years." Click. Click.

Wow, by the looks of her, I didn't see how it could be more than two. "Did you work there while you were still an intern?"

She climbed a foot stool to get a different angle before replying. "No, actually, I finished my degree abroad."

"Did you take the fast track in college?"

She pulled the camera away from her eye and smiling, she said, "I'm 30."

Wow, had it been that obvious that I was trying to work out her age? Not cool, man. "Oh, uh, okay." And this is the reason I'm still single.

Instead of being insulted or making me feel embarrassed, she hopped off the mini-ladder and crouched for a new angle, smiling even bigger. "You're sweet, Mick."

I don't think I hid my dopey grin very well, but she kept clicking away. This set only took about fifteen minutes and when I was finished, I changed back into my normal black boxer-briefs and a pair of black lounge pants that hung low on my hips, which Sam had provided. When I came out of the dressing area I was still shirtless, but feeling much more comfortable than I had been out back. Considering she'd practically seen it all now, this felt modest.

"I have a few more studio shots we can do if you like, some more basic poses," she sounded reluctant, then all at once rushed out, "…but I have a spread planned for a Valentine's day scene and I think it would be really great, but only if you're comfortable."

For the first time, she was acting a bit nervous, a bit…girlie and I wanted to put her at ease. "Well, I didn't think I'd be willing to stand in front of you with nothing but a pair of ski's and my skin, so how much worse could it be?" I'd been going for teasing, but some how saying it out loud made me start to question what could possibly be tipping her off balance.

She cleared her throat in a nervous gesture and said, "The thing is, it's in my bedroom. The set, I mean. I couldn't get my bed and furniture down here to the studio on my own, and I feel so unprofessional and tacky even asking, but to be honest, this bedroom simulation is the scene I'm most looking forward to." A beat went by before she added, "For the calendar."

Alone in a bedroom with Sam. With her staring at my pecs and me staring into her soul through the telephoto lens. "Sure, why not?"

She led the way into the main part of the house and up the stairs to the first room on the left. There was a camera already set-up on a tripod, just inside the doorway. It pointed towards a four poster, mahogany bed that butted up to the right wall. The room had been dressed in black and red and was staged to exude passion. The straps from a black nightie with small red bows were looped over the bottom left post of the bed. The black comforter was splashed with red rose petals, with more long stemmed roses filling a vase on the far nightstand along with a Valentine's card that appeared casually discarded, but was, I'm sure, strategically placed. The bedside table closer to the camera had two champagne flutes and on every surface throughout the room were white candles of varying heights.

Damn, is the heat cranked up in here? Sam was making some adjustments to the camera and I was standing in the middle of a harlequin romance set, very aware of being only half dressed. I wasn't sure if I wanted to cover up or strip down naked and pin this woman to the bed.

She, on the other hand, seemed to have found her composure once again, because when she asked, "Would you mind lighting the candles for me? There's a lighter over on the dresser," she was all business.

I nodded and started working my way around the room. As the bedroom came to life by candlelight I started to wonder what it would be like to have my way with a woman in such a romantic setting. I'd had a few serious relationships, but I'd never taken the time to plan any elaborate settings. I pride myself on being a generous lover, lavishing attention on the woman I'm with, but I suddenly wanted to see whether romance could improve things.

Sam's hand on my elbow jerked my attention back to my surroundings and I once again startled her with my abruptness. "Sorry, I didn't know if you'd heard me," she explained, "but I'll just be right back. I need to get a few things from the kitchen."

I tipped my head in acknowledgement and went back to lighting candles. It was nosy, but once I'd finished, I looked at the pictures that were stuck into the frame of the mirror above her dresser. Pictures with girlfriends, a big group at a party, an elderly couple that I guessed to be her grandparents, a guy I could only hope was her brother.

Sam cam back in carrying a bottle of champagne, an ice bucket, and a bowl of strawberries. She set everything down on the nightstand closest to the camera and artfully arranged the Valentine's essentials.

Taking in the entire set, she stood behind the tripod with all the command of a Hollywood hotshot, but none of the attitude. My first pose was leaning against a lower bed post, with my left arm curled around the column, fingering the lingerie that hung there. The material was so smooth and sensual that I didn't have to fake the aroused look on my face. Just as my imagination was really getting active, her words broke up my fantasy. "I need a minute to adjust the set, you can take a seat if you'd like."

I stepped back from the bed and leaned against the wall opposite the doorway, arms crossing my chest. Sam roughed up the comforter and haphazardly arranged a few pillows against the headboard, making it look like lovers had been hard at work. Her knees were on the bed and she was bent towards me, accidentally giving me a peak down her modest top as it hung away from her body. I wasn't trying to be sleazy, but like any guy, my eyes were glued to her chest.

She crawled off the bed and grabbed the champagne bottle, wrestling it open. The cork popped off and some white foam crested the top, which she brought to her lips and slurped up. Holy fuck. If I didn't get a new mental image, I was going to be sporting a woody that every damn PTA mom in town was going to be privy to. Picture what Ranger will do when he finds out about this project. Picture Hal and Lester making out. Picture Grandma Mazur is Sam's black silk nightie!

Oblivious to her intoxicating affect, she poured the champagne and placed the bottle back in the ice bucket. "Ok, if I can have you prop yourself against the pillows, I'll get a few wide angle shots of you on the bed and then I'll hand you the champagne glasses."

Halfway lying down, I leaned against the headboard with my weight on my left hip, legs sprawled out on the rumpled sheets and right hand relaxed on my thigh, near my groin. I knew she could tell I wasn't a natural playboy, but I gave her credit for not getting frustrated with me. She took some pictures, handed me both glasses, telling me to "offer" one to the camera and took a few more.

"Would it be alright if I joined you on the bed, so I can get some shots from above you?"

My mouth went dry, so I just nodded my head. I set the chilled glasses back onto the nightstand and rolled to my back. She crawled up onto the mattress and she seemed to hesitate for only a moment before she swung her right leg over my hips and was straddling me, but with her weight on her knees, leaving a small gap between us.

"Is this ok?" she asked.

"Not a problem," I lied. I really hoped her jeans were thick because these thin micro fiber pants did nothing to hide the way my body reacted to her.

"Do you have a seductive look you can give me? A patented look you give the ladies from across the room?"

I squirmed a bit, which was a terrible, or maybe wonderful, idea considering it brought our bodies into momentary contact. I stilled immediately, but swear I heard a quiet moan that I was almost certain hadn't come from me. As she became absorbed with taking the pictures, I think she subconsciously relaxed down onto me. I focused on looking sexy, but the more I tried, the more ridiculous I felt.

I slowly became aware of a low-level vibration and slight bounce against my favorite area and realized that Sam was trying to squelch laughter. She was laughing at my sexy face! I could tell the moment she realized she'd been caught, and instead of being embarrassed she lowered the camera and burst out a belly laugh.

I was horrified until I looked at her face and realized that she was looking at me with kindness in her eyes and that look someone might give an endearing child was back. She curled both her lips inward to try and gain control and the adorable, pleading, apologetic look won me over. A shit eating grin replaced my look of indignation and I decided that this woman was special.

She snapped a few pictures of me laughing and then shifted her weight back toward her heels, and consequently my crotch. "You've got great facial features, you know that? The way the space above your lip indents and the slight cleft in your chin, it really draws the focus to your mouth. She tilted her head and I swear she leaned in a little closer. "And the five o'clock shadow really highlights your strong jaw. Those PTA moms are gonna go nuts when they see you laid out like a fantasy."

"Just the PTA moms?"

Her playfulness disappeared and she slightly shook her head as she lowered the camera. "Any woman with blood in her veins."

The silence loomed over us for the space of a few seconds and I felt her weight rock forward slightly. Her breath seemed to be coming quicker and I hesitantly brought my left hand up to rest on her hip. She jumped at the touch and hopped off the bed. Gritting my teeth, I closed my eyes and wished I could undo it. Had I misread the signs? This woman is a professional, and what was I doing? Letting the candle smoke go to my head, that's what.

"Look, Sam, I'm sorry, it's just that I don't go around practicing sexy looks and I've never imagined what I must look like in the bedroom. When I'm with a woman, I just respond to her, it's not like I'm thinking about how to arrange my face."

She thought about that for a minute and suggested, "Maybe you need a prop."

I arched my eyebrow. "Such as?"

"Can you give me five minutes?"

"Sure."

"Do you mind waiting down in the living room?"

I'm not sure that I was able to keep the frustration out of my voice when I said, "Not a problem," but I hoped she didn't take it personally. I'm not a suave guy, and situations like this just rub it in. I hate not being able to live up to people's expectations. Hopefully whatever Sam was redesigning would be something I could pull off.

When she called me back upstairs a few minutes later, I was in no way expecting the sight before me. Sam had changed into a black tank-top and cotton shorts. She was barefoot and her golden brown hair was now falling in waves onto her shoulders. She still wasn't wearing any make-up and she was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen.

"Are you ok with this? To use me as a prop, I mean?" This time there was no mistaking the hesitation in her voice and I felt incredibly pathetic for backing her into this position. And turned on as hell.

"Look, Sam, you don't have to do this. I'm sorry I'm messing up the shoot, it's just that I–"

I didn't get to finish because she held her hand up and said, "No, please. You're not a model and you don't strike me as the "player" type, so I should have realized how awkward this would be for you. And I can't say I've ever really tried to capture anything this seductive before." She was trying to lighten the mood by adding, "I'm used to family portraits and wedding photography, which don't exactly call for bedroom eyes.

"So, if you're ok with me lying on the bed, it might give you something more natural to work with. Whadya think?"

I think I'm going to have a problem seeing her as only a prop. "I think it could work."

She grabbed a remote of some sort and her smaller handheld camera and lay down in position. Nervously, I walked back over to the far side of the bed and stood there, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. "So, umm, how do you want me?"

"Well, since I'm in this position anyways, I'm going to shoot a few looking up at you before we go back to the big bedroom shots. It'll be your lover's viewpoint." She looked a little uneasy and suggested, "Just sit on the bed and lean over me, maybe picture your girlfriend and that you're waiting to kiss her."

"Sorry, don't have a girlfriend."

"Oh. Well, then pretend you're waiting to kiss me."

Pretend. Right. I sat on the edge of the bed with my legs hanging off and bent forward, planting my palms on either side of her, just above her shoulders. It was all I could do to keep my eyes on her face, or what little I could see of it that wasn't obstructed by equipment. I wanted to let my eyes drift down to her pale chest and the rounded flesh that was spilling out the top of her tank-top. The cut wasn't that provocative, but what I could see left me craving more.

She quickly lowered the camera to the floor and picked up the small remote. "This is a how I'll be snapping the pictures for the mounted camera. So basically, you can keep trying out various positions and I'll just snap away and we can figure out what looks good later." Her breath sounded a little forced and I again felt guilty for making her uncomfortable.

I was at a loss for what position to try next. I pictured myself nestled between her thighs and hands on her breasts, but somehow thought that might be crossing the line. Sitting there frozen like an idiot, it was Sam to the rescue once again.

"Do you think you could drop onto your right forearm? That will help block me from the shot."

I tried relaxing my arm, but it made for an awkward angle and I felt I was squishing her. I rotated and brought my legs up to the bed so that I was lying next to her, covering her upper body with mine. I could hear the camera hard at work as I studied the gorgeous face just inches from my lips, the flickering candlelight dancing across her skin. I brought a hand to her face and I absent mindedly stroked my thumb across her cheeks. My voice came out husky when I probed, "Why don't you want to be in the picture?"

She laughed a little and I could feel the vibration where our stomachs were touching. "My place is behind the lens, not in front of it. I'm the brawn, not the beauty."

I didn't know who had convinced her of that lie, but this real woman was prettier than any model and before I could second guess myself, I said, "That is so far from the truth. You're the one that's giving the picture purpose." And then I kissed her. It was gentle, and electrifying, and completely out of line.

I ended the kiss with regretful abruptness and started to lean away, saying, "Shit, Sam, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you –"

"It's Samantha," she breathed. "Please, call me Samantha." Her right hand came up to my cheek and the longing in her eyes was all the consent I needed.

I claimed her mouth with fiery abandon. I'd always thought that chemistry was something reserved for geeks in white lab coats, or at best a description in romance novels, but the electric current that was running through me was finding a connection inside her. There was a palpable sensation that was overpowering and as my tongue slipped into her mouth, I knew I'd be struggling to maintain any semblance of self-control.

I had to be closer to her, feel more of her pressed against me. I rolled my leg over her hip and settled it between her thighs, slowly extending it until my groin was resting on her hip. My hands were tangled in her hair and I forced myself to pull back for a breath. My focus shifted between her eyes, trying to read what she was feeling. I'm no expert on understanding women, but I was pretty confident that she needed me as badly as I did her. Still, I whispered, "Is this okay?"

Her face lit up with a gorgeous smile as she said, "God, yes."

We ravaged each other for hours, selflessly giving everything we could to one another. Afterwards, as I lay curled around her, I was trying to figure out how something could feel so special with a virtual stranger. I gave up trying to find the logic and we fell asleep in each others' arms.

XOXO

When I woke up a few hours later, I bolted upright, knowing that I wasn't in a familiar space. There was a glow in the corner of the room and when my head cleared I realized that Samantha was sitting at a computer screen, the blue light illuminating her milky skin and tousled hair. She'd slipped on the sexy little number that had been hanging off the bed post and I was instantly hard at the thought of feeling that smooth material rubbing between our bodies.

She asked me if I wanted to come over and take a look at how the pictures turned out. I hadn't thought I would ever want to see them, but after having seen the passion and interest that Sam poured into her work, I was curious. What I saw shocked me. Not only did the photos look artistic, but there were close up pictures of my face, showing emotions I hadn't even known I was feeling.

When she was setting up the rappelling scene outside, I thought it would look cheesy. Instead, it screamed mystery and danger. The pictures she'd taken angled upwards from the ground had created the same effect that I'd seen when Sam was perched above me. The deep blue sky was in contrast to the black outline of my body, the only definition being the shape of my flexed muscles. It also turned out that when she was on the ladder and I was supposed to be looking into the distance, she'd caught a few stills of me staring directly at her. Guess she must have liked what she saw.

The skiing pictures had turned out tasteful and powerful. I commented on the coloring and Sam said she'd applied a sepia effect to give everything a brown hue, which only increased the way the shadows highlighted my sculpted muscles. She had already worked her Photoshop magic and it looked to all the world as if I was naked as the day I was born. The strategic shadows began at my flexed thighs and receded into the crux of my crouched stance. Even I was impressed with the way I looked.

But nothing compared to the pictures from the bedroom. The contrast of the snapshots where I'd tried to pose alone to the ones where Samantha had joined me, molded me, were like night and day. My entire body had responded to hers, even before we'd kissed, and it showed in the way I unconsciously presented myself. For the first time, I saw what so many women had claimed to see in me. Sexual hunger. Passion. And an expression of total honesty that the ugly world has taught me to keep guarded.

The star, though, was Sam. She had accidentally continued clicking the wireless shutter release and she had captured that first tortured kiss, me kissing her neck and worshipping my way down her body. The look on her face was so real, nothing like the posed expression of a porn star. That kind of connection couldn't be faked. The remote must have ended up lost amidst the sheets because there were quite a few intimate moments captured as well. Sam seemed to linger on those pictures and I felt myself blushing.

I reached forward to flick off the monitor and drew Samantha back toward the bed. My mind briefly strayed to Hal and Lester and I wondered what I could do to thank them. All coherent thought flew from my head when Sam placed the camera remote in my hand and whispered, "This time you can be in control."

Finis