Camera Chemistry (Love Through a Lens, #0.5)

by Chelsea Curto

The photo shoot isn’t a date by any means. It’s a moral obligation to help a friend. Besides, it’s not like the guy and I would hit it off and fall in love.

Ummm you sure about that? 😉

That was reserved for my twenties. At forty-five, I’m just fucking tired.

“This lo mein is better than any orgasm I’ve had.” Lacey, one of my other best friends, groans around the bite she’s inhaling.

Lol

“Tattoos. Biceps for days. Athletic body with massive hands. And, if the rumors are true, an impressive dick he knows how to use very well.” “Ah.” I nod. “Chivalry isn’t dead. It’s merely disguised as impressively sized dicks.”

Lol

He’s probably five foot eight inches on a good day. I wonder if it bothers him. It certainly doesn’t bother me.

Aiden grins. The smile is slightly lopsided, lifting higher on the right side of his mouth than the left. And, I realize seconds later, it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. He smiles with his whole being, a bright explosion of color and giddiness working across his face. There’s teeth and eye wrinkles. A scrunched nose and the drop of his head backward as his shoulders shake.

She stands inches above me, easily. Some men are embarrassed they're not six-foot-something, willing to sell their soul for a more “masculine” stature and shying away from partners who tower over them. Me? I don’t give two shits.

When I subtly inhale and try to savor the scent, I realize I’m totally and completely fucked.

“It’s a one-night thing. That’s it.” ‘Twenty-four hours,” I propose. “Even better. I’ll cook you dinner. Then I’ll eat you out on my counter.”

“I’m disappointed. I was expecting to find much juicier things.” “What can I say? I’m a boring, middle-aged man. I don’t bring a whole lot to the table.” “Not true. You can cook boxed pasta. That’s more than a lot of men can say.” “Fair.”

“You want the world to see you, don’t you? Face the windows and spread your legs. I didn’t get to finish my dessert, and now the whole city can watch while I do.”

“Fuck, Maggie. You’re so sexy.” “Should I—how do you want me?” “Lie back and relax. Open your legs. Let me see that pretty pussy of yours.”

“I like hearing you say my name. But I’d like it even more if you screamed it.”

“I think you’re forgetting something.” My cheeks flame and I bite my lip. “Thank you, Aiden.” “Atta girl.”

“Spread your legs wider. I want to see every inch of you, Maggie. There you go,” I say through an exhale as she does as I ask. “That’s my fucking girl.”