I thought she'd been sarcastic when she told him to choose, but he took her at her word, rifling through the racks of clothes with a purpose.
James didn't waste any time choosing, at least. I rolled my eyes but had to smile as I saw what he'd chosen.
The stylist actually seemed pleased with his choices. "Ohh, that's a nice idea. That would be a good way to have her compliment the shot."
"She doesn't need help dressing, but she does need privacy," James said bluntly.
The stylist shot him an unfriendly look, but left in a hurry.
I studied James, half-expecting him to pounce on me. It was a natural assumption. We were alone now, and when we were alone …
He didn't though, just started acting like he was dressing me. I didn't need help dressing, but I knew that wasn't the point. He wanted to do this, needed to do this. If I tried to analyze him, as I seemed to do with everything, I thought he did this because he loved to feel like he was taking care of me. He, being as much of a relationship novice as myself, thought that this was what couples did, something that made them closer. I was pretty positive that not many couples did do it, but odd as it was, it did make me feel closer to him, and more cherished.
He dressed me in beige slacks and a soft, knit, beige tank top that was nearly a match to his scarf. I fingered that scarf when it got within my reach.
He gave me a hot look. "I'm keeping the scarf. I have plans."
"Of course you do," I murmured back.
His eyes narrowed on me. "That look in your eyes is going to get you in trouble."
I just stared at him, letting that 'look' do its worst.
He grinned. "Lucky for us both, you like to get into trouble."
I felt my insides clench in a very good way, sure that meant he was going to do something, like now, but he just finished dressing me and stepped back.
"Wear the same red heels," he said. I stepped into them, and he tugged me back out into the studio.
The shoot was both less and more awkward than I'd anticipated. On my end, posing was a breeze. All I had to do was stand behind him, arms wrapped around his middle, hands on his chest and abs. I tried not to let those hands wander, or caress, but it was a struggle. My face wasn't really even visible, just the top of my head and my eyes peeking over his shoulder when I wasn't laying my cheek against his lovely back. Posing was easy. Not getting wildly turned on was the hard part. I managed that part better than James, though that was only because his part was harder to control in general.
The director cleared her throat just a few shots in. "Um, so, is there anything you can do about that, Mr. Cavendish? This is not an X-rated publication … "
James, shameless bastard that he was, seemed completely unfazed. "You'll just need to shoot me waist up. You were the one who wanted my girlfriend in the shot, putting her hands on me. What did you think was going to happen?"
"If we could shoot just waist up, that might not be a problem, but it seems to be a … bigger problem than that."
I felt him shrug against my cheek and I just lost it. I started giggling and I couldn't stop for a solid five minutes.
James turned around until our fronts were pressed together. He was smiling at me, laughter in his eyes. "I can't think of a sound that I love to hear more than that one."
It went better after I got that long giggling fit out of my system. James seemed to get a better handle on things as well, and they shot his back and front while I leaned against him. They stopped briefly to fix his hair, letting it hang loose, then tying it back again. The whole thing seemed kind of silly and frivolous to me, but what did I know about photo shoots? And I couldn't say that I didn't enjoy myself. Just the opposite; once I shook the nerves off, I had a really good time.
They did one more wardrobe change for James, and I was left out of that one. I didn't mind.
They put him in nothing but low-slung athletic shorts and some running shoes. They didn't give him socks, which seemed pretty impractical, but he did have sexy ankles, so I got why they'd done it.
They braided the longer pieces of his hair back, which I thought was weird, but it worked on him. He looked gorgeous, as usual.
They went through the standard poses that he'd been doing, then moved on to some action shots. These I watched with renewed fascination. They had him jump impressively high, do some push-ups, and then pull-ups. I had to contain a little smirk when they made him do curls.
He used more expression for these shots, even grinning into the camera for some of them. He hardly needed direction, going about the whole process like I imagined a professional model would.