Zachary David Productions by Gina Watson

“Since the day I walked in on you taking photos of that French woman, all I can think about is your hand between her thighs, positioning her. I want your hands on me.”
    His jaw dropped and then his hand took hers, tugging. He led her up to the third level where a red velvet chaise lounger sat before a white screen.
    “Let’s take some pictures.”

7
    Chapter Seven
    Z ach moved the red chaise aside. “I want you tangled in white sheets.”
    Cammie helped him change the sheets that were on the bed in the studio. They swapped blue silk sheets for crisp virginal white. He hadn’t said it in so many words, but Cammie assumed it was because of her innocent status.
    Now he was looking through the viewfinder on one of two cameras that were focused at the bed. “Go ahead and lay across the foot of the bed for me.”
    Her empty stomach fluttered to life at the authoritative rasp in his voice.
    “Should I take my clothes off?”
    “Not yet, I’m just setting compensation and shutter speed.”
    She positioned herself on the bed and held herself as still as possible. He took a shot and then spent several minutes making adjustments to the camera.
    While she waited on him to get set up she thought of how she might pose. In preparation, she’d shaved every excess hair she could find on her body and then she’d exfoliated with a loofah mit that had been in the en suite bathroom.
    A fissure of excitement wound its way through her body in anticipation of exposing herself to him and fulfilling one of her many fantasies. Would he touch her? God how she’d wanted him to lay his hand on her since the moment she’d met him, but he’d kept his distance. It was a first for her—being around a man who didn’t seek to objectify her.
    The irony that he was the only man she’d ever wanted to notice her, but he didn’t, wasn’t lost on her.
    “Okay, you can go ahead and get undressed.”
    Her stomach sizzled, warming her from within. He stood next to the camera, watching her. She rose to her knees and lifted the hem of her shirt, pulling it off overhead. Next, she slid her sweatpants off.
    She unclasped her bra and her large breasts bounded out, happy to be free. Cold air kissed her nipples, drawing them into points. The thrill of baring herself to him was more exhilarating than she could have imagined and she desperately hoped he liked what he saw.
    Standing before him completely nude she waited for him to command her, silently praying positioning for the photos wouldn’t be left up to her. The commands never came. Her gaze collided with his as he stared intensely without blinking, intimidating her into coving her chest with her arm.
    “Is something wrong?”
    He didn’t respond. Oh god, he hated how she looked and he didn’t want to use her for his promo photos.
    “You don’t like my body?”
    He cleared his throat and swallowed, and then his mouth parted. “I uh”—he swallowed a second time—“I like it.”
    He didn’t say much or move much. What was wrong with him? It was as if he’d been pulled from the frigid waters of the northern Atlantic. She’d hoped for fire and instead received ice.
    “Can you tell me what you’d like me to do?”
    “Yeah, I will.”
    He turned and walked away. He retreated into the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind him and leaving her standing on her knees on the bed. She rubbed her arms to combat the cool air on her naked skin.
    After several minutes she sat, and drew her knees to her chest.
    When he emerged from the bathroom, she’d already started to dress.
    He grasped her elbow, “What are you doing?”
    “Clearly I’m not what you want so I’m getting dressed.”
    “I’m sorry. Allow me to explain.” He dropped his gaze to the floor. When he looked back to her his face looked young and he was grinning. “I don’t know what to say. I mean I’ve filmed hundreds of women, but the sight of you with no clothes on was more than I could take. I had to go and get a