Shuttered Affections: A Romantic Suspense Novel

Chapter Three

“The last thing I needed was a teacher blowing sunshine up my skirt so he could get into my pants.”

* * *

I felt each nerve-ending split as I watched my fellow classmates leave the room.

He didn’t attempt to get up or move as he explained to the class what he expected of them come Wednesday.

Maddy gave me a tight smile, knowing I had to stay behind, and quickly confirmed our scheduled weekly shoot for tomorrow before saying goodbye and leaving me in the dust.

My second class was a one-on-one Digital Photography session with Mr. Barnes. Only now, Mr. Barnes was not here to rescue me.

My handsome parking-spot thief just sat there, looking at me, probably still expecting me to answer his loaded question.

In all honesty, the question wasn’t what threw me for a loop. It was the sound of his voice, so silky and seductive, with a hint of humor, and my full name falling from his lips, like he’d known me for years. It was the look in his eye as he waited—gray eyes filled with hidden promises and a slight warning all rolled into one smoldering gaze. It was the fact that now, once the classroom cleared out completely, his body was even closer than before.

He repositioned himself so he was fully facing my left side, his long legs spread so they almost encompassed my stool. His left knee slightly brushed against my left leg while his right leg was positioned behind me.

Too close. Way too close.

“Do you have a class to get to, Juliana?” His question was almost a whisper and it made a shiver roll up my spine—not because I was cold, but because his breath on my face made a thousand sparks flicker through my skin, like sparklers on a hot summer night.

Didn’t he know I was his next class? He had to have known. He was probably just toying with me because I’m sure he could tell how I was reacting to him—how he made me feel. But then I remembered, my digital independent study class was really just a favor from Mr. Barnes and wasn’t actually a scheduled class. Damn. I really wanted to keep my schedule. I had to forcefully compose myself and explain.

“Um… actually, my next class used to be a personal session with Mr. Barnes. The Digital Photography class didn’t fill up, so they cancelled it. Mr. Barnes kept me on—sort of as his protégé. But it doesn’t count toward my credits, nor do I pay for it, so…”

So, what? What was I saying? I didn’t want to give up my Digital Photography lessons. I was learning so much about how to work the digital SLR camera and Mr. Barnes was impeccably schooled when it came to touching up and manipulating in Photoshop.

But, was Mr. parking-spot-thief capable of continuing my lessons? I had no idea what his level of expertise was, so I just let my sentence trail off.

“I would be more than delighted to continue your one-on-one lessons, Julia. Mr. Barnes did not inform me of such an arrangement, but since I don’t have a class during this time slot anyway, you might as well continue to use me while I’m available.” An adorable smile worked its way onto his perfect face.

He wants me to use him?

I had to shake my head at the thoughts that crept into my mind. I was supposed to be mad at this man and here I was lusting over his every word—his every breath—his every touch.

“Thank you for your consideration.” I tried to sound polite as I stared into his gray eyes. In an attempt to sound confident, my words mistakenly came out harsh and cold instead.

Something shifted in his demeanor—like he was worried. Or maybe my tone made him realize just how inappropriate this chemistry between us was.

He backed away a little and it felt like he took all my air with him.

I couldn’t explain the feelings that were bombarding me. All I knew was, he was way too close before. Yet, when he backed away, I craved to pull him closer. My body begged for him while my mind scolded me for even feeling such a primal need for his touch.

He still sat next to me, but his knee no longer brushed against my thigh. One of his elbows was propped up on the black tabletop, while his other hand ran through his rugged, sandy hair.

“I probably should catch you up on what you missed due to your tardiness, Ms. Petersen.” His words were clipped, like he was irritated with something—or someone. He was probably irritated with me.

Switching to my last name told me he was trying to stay formal. But I noticed some sort of internal battle in his expression. Pain and confusion etched his face. I wanted to do something, say something, to make him feel better—to ease his pain—to wipe away any confusion and tell him it would all be okay.

Instead, I took the defensive route, knowing full well any comfort I offered would open doors I was certain would get me in trouble.

“I was only late because you stole the parking spot I was waiting for.” I pointed downwards toward him while my other arm curled protectively around my abdomen. My words blurted out harsher than I had planned, but nonetheless, they were true.

Humor entered his eyes as the sides of his mouth quirked up a bit. “Ahh. That was you? I’m terribly sorry, Julia. I honestly didn’t see anyone waiting for the space. I was in too much of a hurry because I did not want to be late for my first day as a new teacher. The administrators haven’t assigned a space for me yet and I only found out this morning. Will you forgive me?”

Oh my, he switched moods so quickly it almost gave me whiplash. And he looked so adorable in that moment. The puppy dog look definitely melted my insides. There was no way I could stay mad at him if he looked at me with such a vulnerable stare.

As much as I wanted to act kind, I knew I had to keep my distance. I had to stay strong.

“You really didn’t remember it was me you screwed just an hour ago? I was all but jumping out of my goddamn window when I yelled at you,” I said. I actually meant for my words to be harsh this time, however, they now came out as more of a whine—pleading for him to remember me.

Grinning even wider now, he continued with his apology and said, “How could I forget that beautiful face of yours? Yes. Yes, I remember it was you. However, I was really being honest about not seeing anyone waiting for the parking spot. I was so ticked off at the idiots from administration, I completely lost my cool with the fact I had to battle for a spot in the student lot. I do wish you could forgive me for my actions.”

Damn. Why’d he have to be so charming and sweet? It was infuriating. Attempting to make him feel bad, I decided to pretend mercy.

“Forgiven. Although in my haste to get to class as soon as I could, I managed to dump most of my spring project all over the asphalt. I’m praying my negatives aren’t ruined.” I looked down at the messy pile of negatives and prints sitting in front of me.

He slid closer—this time, much closer. His legs spread wide to straddle my stool again. His knee now pressed firmly against the side of my thigh and his other leg brushed my backside behind the stool.

My breathing hitched and my hands began to shake. Closing my eyes, I tried to steady my breath. I placed my hands in my lap to hide my weakness as he reached over to assess the damaged rubble that was once the beginning of a damn good project.

“It doesn’t look like anything is damaged, although the negatives did get a bit of dirt on them.” He paused for an assessing moment before continuing. “Julia, these prints are astonishing. I can’t wait to see how you arrange them. You truly do have a passion for black and white infrared and your interpretation of the subject matter is amazing to say the least. Do you still need to print more from these negatives for your project?”

His compliments took me off guard. He sounded so truthful, so passionate, so enamored by my photos. It made me happy to hear someone speak so highly of something that touched me on a very vulnerable level. God knows I never received that kind of praise from home.

I looked at him—first at his distractingly luscious lips, and then into his eyes. I wanted, no, needed to see if he was being sincere. The last thing I needed was a teacher blowing sunshine up my skirt so he could get into my pants.

I tried to compose myself and answer his simple question. “There were a few more shots I wanted to play around with before making my final decisions on which prints will be displayed and which ones I will set aside.”

Standing quickly, he walked to the double doors leading out of the classroom and closed them with a gentle click. The noise made a lump form in my throat as I tried to suppress my nerves. Now we were officially alone. I knew this because those doors were always locked unless propped open.

Stalking back over to me, he picked up my negatives and offered me his hand. My stomach did back flips as I reached up and slipped my fingers into his. Tiny little flickers shot up my arm when my fingers slid across his palm.

He led me over to the large light table to lay out all my negatives neatly and with quick precision. I watched each movement of his fingers, each brush of his palm, as he took great care with my work.

He was probably the type of man that took great care with his lovers too. Using those long, strong fingers to caress and entice a woman…

I had to get control of myself.

He carefully began brushing the negatives with a fine-haired dust brush. Once he was finished, he slid the handle of the brush in his back pocket, bringing my attention to his ass.

Not noticing I was staring at his finely sculpted butt, he grabbed the small loupe magnifier and bent over the light table to look at my work—all while successfully giving me a better view of him from behind.

I smiled and then realized I should talk about my plans for these negatives.

I tried to steady my shaking hands and instill poise to my voice so I could explain where I was at with my project.

“These are the prints I’ve already completed,” I explained as I gestured to several different rows of negatives and pointed out the few I printed from those rows. “And these are the three I think I want to play with a bit more. The infrared glow of the plants is so vibrant, I worry I may lose some detail, but I can’t pass up the challenge to try and bring these shots to life.”

“Oh, so you do like a challenge, don’t you, Juliana.” It was more of an accusation than a question. His tone took on that seductive quality again and it made my stomach turn up in knots.

This man could make me melt with just his words. Surprised that I was still able to stand, I began to feel lightheaded at his seductive tone.

He looked up at me while still bent over my negatives and dazzled me with a smile that had my mind hanging in mid-air. He rose and made the few short steps it took to be right in front of me.

Tracing my jaw with his finger, he whispered, “Breathe, Juliana.”

I didn’t realize I had been holding my breath. The sound of my full name from his lips sent a thrill of shivers down to my core. This man had an effect on me more than words could express—and definitely more than I wanted to admit.

I closed my eyes and began to breathe. With each breath, I could smell his scent—feel his warmth. When I opened them, he was smiling again.

“Green, clear, and beautiful, like sparkling peridot…” he whispered as his finger still lingered on my cheek, his words stopping as if he thought better of touching me so intimately.

It took me a moment of gawking before I realized he was talking about my eyes.

He stepped away and bent back over the light table to look at the few shots I pointed out to him.

God, what I wouldn’t give to sink my fingernails into that ass while…

His voice brought me out of my personal daydream and I bit my lip in an attempt to hide my embarrassing lust-filled thoughts.

“These are really great shots. You should definitely try to play around with these. I could almost see these three being a series all on their own. So vibrant and full of life…” His praise trailed off as he continued to examine all the negatives in that series.

I never received this kind of approval and support from my parents and I never realized how important it was to me until now.

I had no idea a single person’s appreciation could mean so much to my pride. Just listening to him talk about my work made me giddy inside. I couldn’t help the small smile that splayed across my face as the glare from the light table became blurry with my emotion.

“What thoughts are putting that beautiful smile on your face, Angel?” His words sucked me right back to the real world and made me blush profusely.

What did he just call me? How well did this man know me? It was like he knew so many of my private things. He seemed to know more about me than I could’ve ever anticipated and he was playing me like a well-tuned violin.

I backed away and turned my face, not sure what to say and wanting to run from this intense, enigmatic man.

“Oh, Julia. Please don’t hide your face from me. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. You had such joy written on your face, I just wanted to know what thoughts made you so happy.” He was being so sweet, yet I kept asking myself just how close I should really get to him. Also, seeing my parents’ faces and wishing they were doting over my accomplishments like this stranger was so eager to do, assaulted my mind.

“Julia? Look at me.” He lifted my chin with his finger and made me look into his eyes. “Tell me what makes you happy, Angel.”

Oh God! There’s that nickname again. Maybe it is just a coincidence. He is seriously a sweet-talking, sweet-smelling, sweet-looking man. I wonder what his lips taste like. Oh, no. I can’t start thinking like that in front of him.

His words made heat pool in my gut, my insides clench, and my c**t throb. He could obviously turn me on with the simplest of words and the simplest of touches.

As if he could sense my arousal, he smiled and his touch became more sensual—his eyes offering a promise I could only ever dream of.

I had to say something, do something, before I lost full control.

“I’m just happy you find my work so…” I trailed off, unsure of exactly what to say.

“Inspiring? Vibrant? Beautiful?” he continued for me. “There are many words I could use to describe you, Angel. Although, I’m having a hard time putting into words just how your photographs touch me. You say you’re focusing on sculpture and not photography?”

Now that was a loaded question. Both were my passions, but I had a feeling I was more talented when it came to sculpture.

I was proud of my sculptures on a different level than my photography. I’m sure it didn’t help matters that my father seemed to identify with my sculptures more than anything else I had ever accomplished. I was hoping if I focused on sculpture, he would approve of my desires to pursue art. But, again, I was let down by his lack of excitement and his pressure for me to go into the Architecture program instead.

“Yes, I’m focusing on sculpture even though I have an equal amount of passion for photography as well. They are both loves of mine. I could get lost for hours, even days, when working on my artwork. However, the sculpture program at the university is very highly recommended. I would be nothing short of lucky if I even had a chance to apply, let alone actually be accepted.” I let my words rattle out of my mouth before I even had a chance to filter them.

He looked at me with wary eyes, like he was contemplating something. Then his gaze softened and he spoke, “Well, we’ll just have to see about what photography programs are available also.” He finished his sentence off with a wink before turning and stacking up my negatives.

I glanced at the clock and realized my next class wasn’t for another thirty minutes.

He helped carry my negatives back over to the lab table and I neatly put them back in the sleeves.

As I was putting the negatives away, he laid out several of my prints that had hit the asphalt. He carefully began brushing them with the dust brush that was so finely seated in his back pocket before. Once he was finished, he slid the handle of the brush back in his pocket, bringing my attention to his ass once again.

Oh, hell. I’m never going to get anything accomplished when I’m around this man.

He backed up two steps and crossed his arms over his tight chest. As he stood examining my photographs, I sat on the stool and examined him.

He was fairly tall. Of course, it didn’t take much for someone to be taller than my 5’4” height.

He looked to be about six to eight inches taller than myself, which was perfect in my opinion, because it brought my nose right to the center of his muscular pectorals. I imagined nuzzling into his chest and letting his scent fill my nose.

My eyes fluttered shut and I subconsciously allowed a sigh to leave my throat.

As I snapped out of my luscious reverie, I opened my eyes to his gaze on me, burning me with intensity. I knew he could feel the fierce chemistry between us as a low grumble left his chest—evidence of his desire toward me.

It only took a swift shift of his weight to approach me.

He brought his thumb to my bottom lip and tugged on it, releasing my lip from the grip of my teeth. His thumb slowly traced my bottom lip and then grazed toward the corner of my mouth.

My hand reflexively came up and touched his, pressing it against my face.

I leaned into his touch, gliding my fingers over his and down to his wrist, where I let my grip settle, holding onto him and hoping he wouldn’t ever let go. I knew it was wrong, but it still felt so right. I needed the comfort and affectionate touch of a man more than I was willing to admit.

As he wrapped his fingers behind my neck and began pulling us together, a door banged shut just outside the classroom, making us both jump and immediately release each other.

I pulled away quickly and couldn’t help the embarrassment that flushed its way into my skin.

“We can’t…” I said, as we both realized how close we were to making a huge mistake and getting caught in the process.

What in the world am I thinking? Oh, that’s right. I’M NOT THINKING!

This man caused all my mental capacities to fly right out of my ears.

“I know we can’t. But don’t worry. I locked the doors so we wouldn’t be disturbed during your independent study,” he said, as he looked away from me and ran his fingers through his sexy, golden blond hair.

I looked down at the table, while he stepped back and resumed his stance. I still couldn’t help but stare as he stood so strong and confident, like he wasn’t affected by our near discretion.

After several seconds, he went toward my prints on the table and rearranged them. I watched him as he backed away again and stood with his strong legs shoulder-width apart. His arms were crossed over his chest, making every one of his muscles bulge beneath his white shirt. The look of determination on his brow made him appear even sexier. He did this several times until he finally stepped back and smiled.

He looked at me and, with a crook of his finger, he said, “Come here, Juliana.”

Yes, sir!

My pulse quickened and I slowly, but confidently, slid off the stool and made my way over to where he stood, not veering my eyes from his for even a moment.

He grabbed my shoulders and turned me, positioning me in front of his body so my back was pressed to his front.

I immediately saw why he was smiling. He was f*****g brilliant!

He quickly went over to the other side of the room and brought back a small stepping stool. Offering me his hand, he helped me climb to the third step so I could see the prints from a higher vantage point.

At first my focus was solely on his hands positioned low on my hips. Strong and bold, he held me with a gentle touch. But then, I readjusted my gaze on my prints, which were strategically laid out on the table.

Before I could react to the overwhelming view in front of me, he spoke up.

“You see what I see, right?” he asked. I could do nothing but nod my head and gape in amazement, my jaw clearly on the floor seven feet below me.

He continued, “The lines flow through each piece perfectly, like they were random puzzle pieces just waiting to be met with their mates.”

“Oh, my,” I whispered as my hand came up to my lips.

Nine of my photos were all arranged vertically in sets of three in a seemingly random order. Only, they managed to blend together in such a way that flowed, making a beautiful, multi-piece abstract.

“This is perfect,” I said as I leaned forward toward the photos.

He held my hips protectively, making sure I didn’t fall.

With his fingers pressed into my hips, he lightly gestured for me to come down off my pedestal. I complied willingly because I craved to be next to him again.

Without warning, he increased his hold on my hips and lifted me. I almost squealed in surprise, but he quickly brought my body against his and allowed me to gently slide down until my feet grazed the floor. His muscles flexed deliciously as I dug my fingers into his arms. He held onto me firmly, one hand in the center and the other at the small of my back, just above my ass. Pressing our bodies together, he lightly groaned as he regretfully let me go.

Gently pushing the stool away with his foot, he turned me and guided my hips back in front of his, my back barely brushing against his taut abdomen.

“If you use black mats and frames to separate each print, it will give the viewer a chance to use their imagination while the photos provide suggestions and guide their visualization down the right path.” He held his left hand in front of me, gesturing as he spoke—his left arm brushing just above my left shoulder as his right hand stayed protectively on my right hip.

I finally found my voice. “And what’s even better is, the three other negatives I want to play around with will work perfectly in the top row… assuming they come out well. They would make it complete.”

As I turned around, his hand, which was on my right hip, grazed the small of my back, and then softly landed on my opposite side. I tilted my head, looked up into his eyes, and simply said, “Thank you.”

“No, Julia. I should be thanking you. The caliber of work you do inspires me. I love watching prints transform into something so remarkable. And to see the look on your face right now is such a reward to me.”

Footsteps out in the hall caused me to attempt to break away from his light, single-handed embrace. With firm hands, he caught me, not letting me back away from him.

Out of instinct, my arms lightly snaked around his waist and touched his strong back muscles. My eyes met his in our embrace, and we lingered there for a few moments, just staring, wondering what was going through the mind of the other.

Finally, we both lessened our hold and I brought my head down to attempt some sort of balance after staring into his powerful eyes.

I figured it was probably getting close to time for my next class. It would be a good idea to mark the order of the photos he so carefully arranged. Doing so would also keep me busy, because I was clearly losing my control around this man.

With a pencil in hand, I bent over the tall table, very lightly marked the white border of each photo with a number, and gathered the prints into a pile while he walked over to open the classroom doors.

I felt his gaze on me as I worked. I enjoyed the strength and confidence it gave me. Obviously, I affected him and it made me feel potent.

Since I was still slightly bent over the table, I turned my head, looked back at him, and smiled.

A smile lit up his face and he let out a little chuckle, while gliding his fingers through his silky hair. I thought I heard him whisper the word ‘tease’ but it was so quiet, I couldn’t quite tell. Either way, it made my stomach flutter again.

He turned to shut off the glow from the light table and my trance was lessened a bit by the distance put between us.

It was a good thing too because a student walked in a few seconds later. Thankfully, he set his bags down, grabbed his camera, and left the room to go to the studio across the hall. I was worried the severe blush on my face would have made my guilt evident.

I quickly packed up all my prints and negatives, then glanced over to say goodbye. I realized then that I didn’t even know his name.

I stood up straight and attempted to look strong and confident.

Walking over to him, I stuck out my hand to shake his and said, “Thank you for taking the time to look at my work and speak with me, Mr. …”

“Stone, Mr. Stone,” he said with a smile. Then he leaned in and quietly added, “But when we’re alone, you will call me Aiden.” His instructions were spoken with authority as he smiled a dazzling, heart-melting grin.

Looking over my shoulder to make sure no one was paying attention, he grabbed my hand, brought it to his mouth, and brushed a light kiss over my knuckles.

“And, Juliana? The pleasure is all mine.”