Touch of the Camera
A Total-E-Bound Publication
www.total-e-bound.com
Touch of the Camera
ISBN # 978-1-78184-806-7
©Copyright Anais Morgan 2013
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright October 2013
Edited by Rebecca Douglas
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2013 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a
heat rating
of
Total-e-burning
and a
sexometer
of
1.
This story contains 36 pages, additionally there is also a
free excerpt
at the end of the book containing 4 pages.
TOUCH OF THE CAMERA
Anais Morgan
It isn’t easy to hide your desires when the camera sees everything.
Luna is prepared to wear next-to-nothing lingerie in front of the camera. She can even handle doing so on a male model’s lap. But what Luna isn’t prepared for is Shang, the sexy photographer.
Shang asks her to move in front of the camera like she’s being kissed. Yeah, much easier said than done. However, Luna is connecting with more than the lens, and Shang can feel it too.
Neither can deny the attraction, and neither wants to. Luna and Shang want to take their relationship further, but a contract states they have to wait until after the campaign launch. But nobody will know if they hook up in a motel room, or a limo…so why not try it?
Dedication
I would like to dedicate this to my husband, Nick. He has always encouraged me to follow my dream and without him this book probably wouldn’t be.
I love you.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Victoria’s Secret: L Brands, Inc.
Chewbacca: George Lucas
Kleenex: Kimberly-Clark Worldwide, Inc
National Geographic
: National Geographic Society
Hershey: The Hershey Company
Jeep: Chrylser Group LLC
Coke/Diet Coke: The Coca-Cola Company
Vogue
: Condé Nast
Keurig: Trent Fields, Inc.
Volvo: AB Volvo
Miss America: Miss America Organization
Lee Jeans: VF Corporation
Colgate: Colgate-Palmolive Company
Oprah
: Harpo Productions, Inc
Chapter One
If the best things come in small packages, that statement was obviously made by a man. And a horny one at that. I looked down at my newly ample cleavage as June, the wardrobe assistant, laced the corset up my back. And June didn’t leave any room for breathing. Wow, I’d never thought I would have been
this
much of a woman at eighteen. I hadn’t even known I had breasts. Nuggets, yes, but not womanly breasts. Turning a bit to the side, I saw how the corset shaped my upper torso into that desirable ‘V’, my lower half completing the hourglass shape. My hips were decorated with cut-out pieces of lace, making the hourglass that much more apparent. The red and black accents made me feel like a devil, or a bad girl at least. Dante had named his collection well—at least, I guessed that was why he’d called his new collection
Underworldly
.
As the stylist finished lacing me up, I tried to take a good, deep breath. This wasn’t my first modelling campaign. I’d actually worked on a number of well-known ones. Those were my ‘baby’ campaigns. Since my eighteenth birthday, I’d signed up to be the face of the hottest designer to rival Victoria’s Secret, Dante. I was the face, the main girl to be featured on all of his campaigns. It made me nervous to think of myself on the boxes and in magazines for
Demon
, the cologne for men and
Fallen
, the women’s perfume.
The corset was finished and the stylist tapped me on the back, signifying I was ready for hair and makeup. I tried to shift a bit, but the lingerie was beyond tight and there probably wasn’t even enough room for me to properly inhale.
Oh, well, Luna. This is your dream. Shut up and let that camera love you.
Heading over to the hair station, I saw extensions—like, Chewbacca’s worth of extensions. My stomach began to flutter like a strobe light was going off inside me.
Extensions!
Sure, almost every girl in New York had them, but me? I sat in the chair and the hairdresser got to work. I closed my eyes as she took a handful of hair at my crown and began knotting it. Fuck, she was relentless when it came to getting it tight—whoever invented hair teasing needed to get slapped. Big hair was beautiful, but damn, getting it hurts like hell. In the end, I always wondered how many strands I’d lost in the process. A hollow sound interrupted my thoughts and I froze—almost literally—as a massive coating of hairspray covered me. When the sound stopped I opened my eyes to a cloud of foggy spray and a nose filled with grime. The stylist handed me a Kleenex and I walked over to makeup, washing my face of the film the spray had created.
A good makeup artist always had moist towelettes and this one was no different. She handed me a couple to cleanse my chest of the film while she worked on my face. She wasn’t gentle either.
Are you going to leave any flesh to powder?
She spun the chair around so fast I thought whiplash was in my future. Her hand slammed down on the back and I stopped, watching as she pulled out thick and long black eyelashes.
“Oh, there’s my beautiful little flower,” a high-pitched male voice sounded throughout the room. Strong hands came down on my shoulders. “Luna, you’re trembling, stem. There is no breeze.” Jacque, the art director, coaxed me like a new-born baby. I loved him and his ways. We’d worked together before and he knew exactly how to make a girl feel better.
I exhaled. “Yeah, sorry. I’m just nervous.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be here with you. We make beautiful photos today.”
I could imagine Jacque, with all his French glory, swinging his arms as he spoke. He made me smile with how grandly he acted.
“Luna, you must remember you’re not the only new one here today.”
That was right. The photographer, Shang Lee, was also new to the world of people, so to speak. He used to do portraits for
National Geographic
. I was anxious to meet him. I had seen his work and the way he captured shadows and lighting was amazing.
The makeup artist’s hands left my face and when I opened my eyes, she was appraising her work. She smiled, looked at Jacque, and he clapped. “Beautiful,” he said, a dancing tone in his voice.
I turned to peer in the mirror. As soon as I saw myself, my breath escaped me.
Holy shit.
I was a woman. My eyes were sultrier with a smoky effect, my lips more pouty in red. I wanted to jump up and dance a samba. Shake my booty. Today, I was a real woman. So why not do it? I stood, grabbed Jacque’s hands and started doing some kind of move I was sure the earth had never seen. Jacque laughed and did his own dance then I twirled him around, our hitch-pitched laughter overtaking the room.
“May I cut in?”
I stopped at the sight of…
him
. Shang Lee. I had seen him in pictures, but they didn’t do him justice. His hair, thick and long, was brushed back from his face. As he looked at me, he ran his hands through that hair, making a tendril fall over his forehead. His skin was absolutely flawless, sun-kissed from months in the wild. His black eyes seemed to penetrate me, making my knees weak. Their endless depths captivated me. I wanted to reach out and touch him, see if he was real. If he was as soft as he looked.
I felt Jacque staring at me, his gaze searching my face for the words that were stuck in my throat. Finally, he cleared his. I snapped out of my trance and shifted my eyes from Shang to Jacque. Shang looked at me like I’d forgotten what planet I was on. Jacque, bless him, knew when a girl was struck by a good-looking man. He set his hands on my shoulders, pushing me closer to Shang. “She is ready, Mr Lee.”
Shang smiled. He had a set of perfect whites and a boyish face. How did he go from sexy man to innocent with just a smile? I could barely stand in my six-inch heels—I was going to trip. I always did when a handsome man was around. Call it clumsiness, but I had serious problems standing when gorgeous men were near. Granted, it was my job, but so far not many men had done this to me. I was what my mother liked to call ‘dumbfounded when it came to the opposite sex’. If he touched me…
“Let me introduce myself. I’m Shang Lee, but please, call me Shang,” he said, taking my hand in his.
That did it. I fell, ass first, somehow breaking my shoe in the process. Shang caught me, his arm under my back supporting me. I stared into his eyes—he had an inner glow, like a disco party was raging inside him. His touch was warm. I started to think of him walking from a shower, a towel low on his hips, sliding down as he moved…
“Luna, are you all right?” he asked.
I shook my head, noticing my hand in his hair. I straightened, shifting in my corset and trying to stand tall even though one foot was missing a heel. I laughed, obvious hesitation in the sound, and looked at Shang. “Yeah. I get so clumsy. This is my first shoot showing my sexier side and the shoes and I got excited from the makeup and—”
He grabbed my hand. It stopped me and my rambling mouth right away.
Great. It’s not like word vomit attracts many men.
How was I supposed to shut myself up? Best idea? Keep it to head movements.
Shang, still holding my hand, led me over to the photo shoot. There was a green screen, with a green bench in front for me to sit on. I’d been told that Dante wanted to add in an eerie sky so the screen didn’t surprise me. Shang helped me straddle the bench while a man from wardrobe placed another shoe on my foot.
Okay, Luna. Time to get down to business. Think sexy. Think kitten.
Shang backed up to the camera and analysed my position. “Okay, Luna. Now, for the first twenty frames or so we’re going to have you straighter. Jacque will say when to break it up then kind of do your thing. Feel what’s natural.”
I nodded, straightened my back and relaxed my body. Exhaling, I heard the sound of the camera clicking. Being a model was all about small movements so that’s what I did. Drop a shoulder an inch or two for that frame, raise my chin for the next. Always keep the light on my face. Focus on what I was selling. Keeping the fluidity wasn’t easy sometimes. There were days when I wanted to be like
Bam
,
Bam!
and strike those poses. But simple was key.