Estranged
1036 Words
I heaved a deep sigh, realizing I shouldn't trouble the people who've helped me. “I’m not here to cause rumors,” I said, turning slightly to face her. I looked deep into her eyes, “And I assure you, I won't, in any way, put you in trouble.”
Holly said nothing after that.
She simply nodded once, tight-lipped, before turning away. “I have to get her styled for the shoot. Wait here till it's time.”
And just like that, I was alone again.
The studio felt different once again, with the side-eye stares and glances.
I leaned back slightly against the equipment table, exhaling slowly. For now, I should focus on remaining professional. Just take the photos, as if this were just a random shoot between an estranged photographer and a model.
But my mind refused to cooperate.
Madison.
I hated what she did to my thoughts. Even now, after everything. Seeing her face again, it stirred something deep within me. No matter how much I told myself otherwise, I remembered her too clearly.
Not just the night we met. But the way she looked when she moved.
The way she owned the space without trying. The way her presence made everything else feel irrelevant.
I hated that she made me feel that way about her.
...I hated that my body reacted before my mind could intervene. I hated that I noticed things I shouldn’t about her.
The memory of her laughter, her voice, her moans, her soft touch... I remember everything.
I exhaled sharply.
'No. That's gone.' I told myself.
I had only come this far just to find her and claim what's mine.
Nothing else matters.
Shortly after, the door across the studio set in the corridor leading to the dress room opened. The same dress room she had entered earlier.
I looked up instinctively.
And Just then, everything stopped.
Madison stepped out. Elegant and outstanding, every head turning to look at her.
For a moment, I forgot where I was. I forgot what I was supposed to feel.
I forgot everything...
Except her presence.
She was dressed for the shoot now, in a burgundy, laced lingerie of delicate, minimal fabric style that's designed to reveal without exposing too much.
Designed to do more than suggest.
And it did do more than suggest as it clung to her banging body as if teasing an irresistible desire.
The lingerie featured a see-through boudoir bra piece and a matching ouver brief with a lace suspender belt. The bra accentuated her supple DD-sized cups, leaving a bit of her cleavage in dazing view, and the brief clung to her curvy, swaying hips in a sensual appeal that would leave any man imagining pulling them down to see the paradise it teased beneath.
I was instantly reminded of that night that I'd first seen her under the stage lights at the strip club, dressed in something similar. She'd owned every gaze in the room back then too.
I had told myself I was just watching. That I was just indulging like everyone else.
But I hadn’t been truthful to myself. She'd been a danger to my heart, and that of many other men.
And when she came down from the stage and started dancing on me, my body reacted before I could even think.
The same way it was reacting now.
I tightened fingers into a fist beside me. I need to keep myself in control. I hated that I struggled to. I hated that I couldn't look away without forcing myself to. But I knew I had to. I couldn't fall victim to her allures again.
Madison’s eyes swept the room once, cold and detached. Without giving a care about anyone, she stepped forward, graciously, towards the set with Holly's direction.
As she approached, she didn't look my way. Not even once.
It was like I wasn’t even worth acknowledging. Like I meant nothing to her.
“Mr. Grayson.” Holly’s voice cut in sharply. “Ready to begin?"
I forced myself to move. Forced my body into professional rhythm. "Yes, sure."
I lifted the camera and set it to face the set.
Madison stepped onto set. Her movement slow, and measured. Her snatched waist swerving in a sensual rhythm as she moved.
I swallowed, not knowing why I did. “Position one,” I called out, willing myself to focus on the camera.
Madison laid on the lofty, feather filled set, posing effortlessly beneath the lights and adjusting her stance with practiced ease.
Looking at her through the camera felt so wrong. She wore barely anything, just the lace lingerie that clinged to her body like a second skin.
It wasn’t just what she wore. It was how she wore it like she owned it.
Like she understood exactly what every inch of her body did to the people watching.
My grip tightened around the camera.
Five years, and somehow… she had only gotten worse. I could imagine exactly how many men would have fallen for her dangerous allure now.
“Chin up a little?” I instructed, my voice surprisingly lower than usual.
She didn't hesitate. She raised her chin, slow and deliberate.
Her neck stretched slightly with the movement, exposing smooth skin that caught the light just right. Her lips parted. Not fully, and not enough to be obvious. But just enough to be intentional and arousing.
And then she looked at me. Directly.
The world narrowed as my eyes met hers. My chest tightened, a nervous pull tugged at my heart.
- Writer
