‘He was known as the master of light,’ I say, and he looks at me with genuine interest. ‘He didn’t think that the subject was of any importance. It didn’t matter what he photographed. To him, the subject was always the light. He concentrated on controlling it. See?’ I point to the reflections on the water. ‘These rowing boats, as lovely as they are, are just boats, but see how he manipulates the light? He didn’t care for the boats. He cared for the light surrounding the boats. He makes inanimate objects interesting, makes you look at the photograph in a different…well, a different light, I suppose.’ I tilt my head and observe the picture. I never tire of it. As simple as it seems, the more you look at it, the more you get it.
After a few moments silence, I rip my eyes away from the canvas, finding Jesse staring at me.
Our eyes meet. He’s chewing his bottom lip. I know I won’t be able to say no again if he pushes this. I’m all out of willpower. I’ve never felt so desired than when I’m with him, and I keep trying to fool myself that the feeling is unwanted.
‘Please don’t.’ My voice is barely audible.
‘Don’t what?’
‘You know what. You said I wouldn’t have to see you again.’
‘I lied,’ He’s not ashamed. ‘I can’t stay away from you, so you do have to see me again…and again…and again.’ He finishes the last part of his declaration slowly and clearly, leaving no room for misunderstanding.
I gasp, instinctively backing away from him.
‘You persistently fighting this is only making me more determined to prove that you want me.’ He starts slowly pursuing me, taking slow, cautious steps forward, maintaining his deep eye contact as he does. ‘I’m making it my mission objective. I’ll do anything.’
I stop my retreat when I feel the bed at the back of my knees. In two more strides, he’ll be upon me, and the thought of imminent contact in enough to snap me out of the trance he sends me into.
‘Stop,’ I hold my hand up in front of me, halting him in his tracks. ‘You don’t even know me.’ I blurt, in a desperate attempt to make him see how crazy this is.
‘I know you’re impossibly beautiful,’ He starts towards me again. ‘I know what I feel, and I know that you’re feeling it too.’ We’re body to body now, and my heart is hammering in my throat. ‘So, tell me, Ava. What have I missed?’
I try to control my rushed breaths, but with my chest heaving and my body physically shaking, I’m struggling. I drop my head, ashamed at the tears gathering in my eyes. Why am I crying? Is he enjoying reducing me to tears? This is hideous. He’s so desperate to bed me, he’s resorting to stalking me, and I’m crying because I’m so weak. He makes me weak, and he has no right to.
I feel his hand slide under my chin, and the warmth would be welcome, if I didn’t think he was such an arsehole right now. He tugs at my jaw to raise my head. When our eyes meet, he winces at my tears.
‘I’m sorry.’ he whispers softly, sliding his hand around to cup my cheek, slowly stroking the rolling tears away with his thumb. His expression is pure torment. Good. It should be.
I find my voice. ‘You said you would leave me alone.’ I look at him questioningly as he continues to smooth his thumb over my face. Why is he chasing me like this? He’s clearly unhappy in his relationship, but it doesn’t make this right.
‘I lied, I’m sorry. I told you, I can’t stay away.’
‘You already said that you’re sorry, but here you are again. Am I to expect flowers tomorrow?’ I don’t hide my sarcasm.
His thumb pauses and he drops his head. Now he’s ashamed. But then his head lifts, our eyes connect and his gaze drops to my lips. Oh, no. Please, no. I’ll never be able to stop this. He begins searching my eyes, looking for any sign that I’m going to block him. Am I? I know I should, but I don’t think I can. His lips part and they slowly start lowering to mine. I hold my breath. As our lips brush, only very lightly, my body gives way, prompting my hands to fly up and bunch his jacket in my fists. He growls his approval as he moves his hands to the base on my spine and pushes my body closer to him, our lips hovering over each other, our breaths mingling. We both shake uncontrollably.
‘Have you ever felt like this?’ he breathes, running his lips across my cheek to my ear.
‘Never,’ I answer honestly. My short, gasping breath is unrecognisable.
He grips the lobe of my ear between his teeth and tugs gently, letting the flesh drag through his bite. ‘Are you ready to stop fighting it now?’ he whispers, tracing down the edge of my ear with the tip of his tongue, working his way back up and brushing his lips lightly over the sensitive flesh under my ear. His hot breath causes a rush of heat to crash between my thighs. I can’t fight this anymore.