Full Exposure
Page 20
He retrieved a few Kleenexes and picked up the bug’s remnants as Serena secured her cameras. When she was finished, she picked up her purse and wrap again before asking, “Shall we go?”
“Absolutely.” He opened the door with a frown, his gaze still focused on where he’d killed the scorpion. “It could have stung you.”
“It was just a random thing, Kevin,” she murmured, her hand soft and trembly on his arm. “Right?”
“Yeah, sure.” But he couldn’t get the image of Serena—poisoned and dying—out of his head.
She seemed to sense his preoccupation and pulled him around until they were standing stomach to stomach, her arms resting lightly around his waist. “Don’t let it ruin the night.”
He pulled his gaze back to hers with effort. “I wasn’t planning to.”
“Good.” She licked her lips and winked before gliding through the door. “ ’Cuz I’ve got big plans.”
His eyes narrowed. He didn’t know what game she was playing, but two could play it, even if he didn’t know all the rules. “I can’t wait.” He followed her, closing the door behind them and double checking to make sure the latch had caught. He couldn’t help grinning as he watched her h*ps sway as she strolled down the hall.
“Have I mentioned how much I love those shoes on you?”
She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes wide and wicked and more than a little bit aroused. “What’s not to love?”
He inclined his head with a grin. That was a sentiment he could definitely get behind.
One of the hotel’s limos stood waiting at the curb when they got downstairs and he helped Serena into it, before settling next to her. “Balboa Park—Museum of Art,” he told the driver.
“Actually, the Museum of Photographic Arts,” Serena corrected him. “I have a friend who’s on exhibit right now. That’s why I wanted to leave early—to see Glenn’s work.”
Jealousy clawed at him, but Kevin beat it down mercilessly. What the hell was wrong with him that the mere mention of another guy’s name had his stomach tying itself in knots? “You didn’t tell me.”
She shook her head. “No. I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“What kind of surprise?”
“You’ll see.” Her smile was mysterious, enchanting. And when she slid her small hand into his much larger one, his gut relaxed. It didn’t matter how many people Serena had in her past. She was with him now.
“Are you nervous?” she asked.
“About your surprise?” His eyebrows rose inquiringly.
“No.” Her mouth twisted impatiently. “About the opening tonight! I’d be a nervous wreck. My own permanent place in a major, world-famous art museum. I can’t imagine.”
He laughed, though the words were eerily reminiscent of ones Deb had spoken to him years before. “It’s not such a big deal.”
“It’s a very big deal. Maybe not to you, Mr. Big Shot Sculptor, but to the rest of us mere mortals it’s really exciting.”
He shrugged, shifting uneasily in his seat. “I guess. It’s just always been about the work, you know?”
“Your vision.” She smiled into his eyes.
“I know it sounds corny.”
“No. You’re right. It is all about what you see. But, Kevin, what you see and how you see it is so extraordinary.”
“Serena—”
“No. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I need to say it. I was impressed, hugely impressed, with your work long before I met you. It’s a big part of the reason I took this assignment. But now, having seen you work, I’m awed. Your talent, what you can create, awes me.” She squeezed his hand as her eyes gazed steadily into his. “Really.”
He swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat, nodded because he didn’t know what to say. “Thanks.”
She nodded back. “Not that you aren’t an incredible pain in the ass when you’re working.”
He grinned. “That goes without saying.”
“Oh no. No, it doesn’t. It is however, a sentiment that bears repeating.”
He gave a fake smile. “Ha-ha, aren’t you funny?”
“It’s a gift.” She winked at him before leaning over and resting her cheek on his chest.
Wrapping his arms around her, he pressed her as close as possible. He loved this new, relaxed Serena, with her easy smiles and loving gestures. She still had moments of darkness, times when she was so far away he despaired of ever reaching her again. Not that he blamed her—if he’d had her life, he doubted that he would have half her courage or grace.
He snorted silently. Who was he kidding? Even with his relatively normal life, he was no match for her kindness and composure. A curious tightness started in his chest as he held her against him, a tightness that told him more than he wanted to know about his feelings for her.
He was oddly disappointed when the limo glided to a stop a few minutes later, as close as the driver could get them to the Museum of Photographic Arts.
The driver came around to help them out and Serena listened as Kevin and he debated where and when to meet. As she waited, she studied the Spanish architecture that was so much a part of Balboa Park. Most of the museums were two- or three-story stucco buildings with tile roofs. Flowers and trees abounded, as did sunshine, and Serena drew a deep breath of the cool, clean air into her lungs. The bayou might be Kevin’s all-time favorite place, but she loved San Diego, had always promised herself that when her photos really caught on she would buy a place here and spend half the year. Not that she didn’t like Louisiana, but the peace and tranquillity that permeated most of San Diego really appealed to her. Maybe because she’d had so little peace in her own life.
She continued contemplating the building as she took a few deep breaths. Excitement thrummed through her as she thought of what the next hour would bring. Not just a look at her good friend’s truly wonderful photos, which was exciting enough on its own. But also something more … stimulating. She looked at Kevin through her lashes as he escorted her past the little coffee stand doing a brisk business and into the building.
The contrast between the bright, warm outdoors and the cool darkness of the photography museum took a few moments to get used to. As Serena paused to get her bearings, Kevin reached for his wallet to pay the admission price, but Serena stopped him.
“My surprise, my treat,” she said, pulling out a twenty-dollar bill.
Kevin eyed her in surprise. “I don’t mind—”
“I do.” She squeezed his hand before turning to the elderly woman behind the desk. “Two please.”
“I only charged you half price, since we’re closing in about forty-five minutes,” she was told as the woman gave her more change than she expected. “That’s why we’re just about empty.”
Perfect. Anticipation thrummed through Serena as she tugged Kevin into the main collection room. “Thanks. That’s great,” she called over her shoulder. “We just want to look around a little.”
They strolled through the main gallery looking at the photos by numerous photographers. Kevin stopped before two photos with artificially bright colors that ran together. “I like these,” he murmured, studying the pictures of a street fair. In the first, all the people and booths blurred together in a surreal riot of color with only the perfect sandcastles in the distance in focus. The second had the same blurred colorscape, but it focused on the once perfect sandcastles being destroyed as children in brightly colored suits ran through them.
He glanced down to see the photographer’s name, felt a jolt when he realized they were Serena’s. His eyes flew to hers and she shrugged. “My one and only museum pieces.”
“They’re fabulous. I didn’t realize—”
“Didn’t realize what?” she teased, dragging him away. “That I actually know what I’m doing?”
“No!” he protested. “Just that—”
She leaned forward and kissed him, effectively shutting down his argument. “Come on. I want to see Glenn’s work.” She pulled him into one of the smaller rooms off the main one.
It took him a moment to adjust to the near total blackness in the room, the darkness illuminated only by the small spotlights focused individually on each of the photos on the wall. As his eyes gradually adjusted, he took in the images closest to him. His body stiffened a little more with each frame that he looked at.
He reached out, snagged Serena’s hand as she moved away from him. “Exactly what kind of exhibit is this?” he asked.
She grinned slyly, tugging her hand from his. “Glenn specializes in erotic photography.”
Kevin sucked air through his teeth as he hardened instantly. He stared at a particularly provocative black-and-white photo of a man on his knees in front of a woman. They were both dressed, but her skirt was hiked up to her waist. And though the camera was angled in such a way that it was impossible to see the details, the look on the woman’s face spoke volumes about what was going on.
His overactive libido substituted Serena’s gorgeous face and body for the woman’s in the photograph and he felt himself growing harder still. He shifted, trying to make his erection a little less noticeable.
Until he saw the next picture in the series. The same woman was lying on a bed, her dress gone and her thighs spread open as she rested on her elbows. Though her underwear covered as much as a bathing suit, once again it was the look in her eyes and the energy pouring through her that told the story. Last night, Serena had been in just that position. Her beautiful back arched, her gorgeous br**sts lifted for his mouth, her silken thighs laid open for him.
Suddenly a powerful surge of lust hit him, so powerful, in fact, that he was afraid to move in case he totally lost it. What the hell was wrong with him? He was an artist, had studied erotic art and photography in school and had never reacted to it like this. So why now, when he wanted to be cool and suave, was he reacting like a sex-crazed teenager?
Serena’s spicy perfume tempted him almost beyond bearing as she came back to him, reaching out a hand to grasp his. “Do you like?” Her voice was low and teasing.
He cleared his throat, tried not to embarrass himself. “What’s not to like?”
“That’s what I say,” she said with a grin. “Come here, I want to show you my favorites.”
She dragged him over to a corner display of three black-and-white photos. The second he was close enough to see, his entire body tightened to the point of agony. The first photo showed a man and a woman in evening clothes. They were running in the rain, and though they had an umbrella, the woman’s white dress was plastered to her body, revealing shadows of both her ni**les and her pubic hair. In the second photo, the man had her backed up against a brick wall. His body pressed intimately against hers while his hands tangled in her wet hair and his mouth brushed kisses on her neck.
The final photo showed him cupping her ass while she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her skirt was bunched between them and her head rested against the wall as he sucked her nipple into his mouth. As he stared, wordlessly, at the picture, flashes of Serena in just such a position whirled through his mind. Her beautiful br**sts spilling over the top of her dress. Her long, elegant legs wrapped around his waist. Her head thrown back in ecstasy as he pumped into her again and again.
The image was so real he nearly came right there in the middle of the museum. Clearing his throat, Kevin blinked and shook his head, trying desperately to chase the image of Serena in the middle of an orgasm from his mind.
“So, what do you think?” she asked.
“About what?” He didn’t turn and look at her, knowing that he’d grab her if he did. Not that looking at the photographs was doing much to calm him down, but he’d take what he could get in a crisis.
“Absolutely.” He opened the door with a frown, his gaze still focused on where he’d killed the scorpion. “It could have stung you.”
“It was just a random thing, Kevin,” she murmured, her hand soft and trembly on his arm. “Right?”
“Yeah, sure.” But he couldn’t get the image of Serena—poisoned and dying—out of his head.
She seemed to sense his preoccupation and pulled him around until they were standing stomach to stomach, her arms resting lightly around his waist. “Don’t let it ruin the night.”
He pulled his gaze back to hers with effort. “I wasn’t planning to.”
“Good.” She licked her lips and winked before gliding through the door. “ ’Cuz I’ve got big plans.”
His eyes narrowed. He didn’t know what game she was playing, but two could play it, even if he didn’t know all the rules. “I can’t wait.” He followed her, closing the door behind them and double checking to make sure the latch had caught. He couldn’t help grinning as he watched her h*ps sway as she strolled down the hall.
“Have I mentioned how much I love those shoes on you?”
She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes wide and wicked and more than a little bit aroused. “What’s not to love?”
He inclined his head with a grin. That was a sentiment he could definitely get behind.
One of the hotel’s limos stood waiting at the curb when they got downstairs and he helped Serena into it, before settling next to her. “Balboa Park—Museum of Art,” he told the driver.
“Actually, the Museum of Photographic Arts,” Serena corrected him. “I have a friend who’s on exhibit right now. That’s why I wanted to leave early—to see Glenn’s work.”
Jealousy clawed at him, but Kevin beat it down mercilessly. What the hell was wrong with him that the mere mention of another guy’s name had his stomach tying itself in knots? “You didn’t tell me.”
She shook her head. “No. I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“What kind of surprise?”
“You’ll see.” Her smile was mysterious, enchanting. And when she slid her small hand into his much larger one, his gut relaxed. It didn’t matter how many people Serena had in her past. She was with him now.
“Are you nervous?” she asked.
“About your surprise?” His eyebrows rose inquiringly.
“No.” Her mouth twisted impatiently. “About the opening tonight! I’d be a nervous wreck. My own permanent place in a major, world-famous art museum. I can’t imagine.”
He laughed, though the words were eerily reminiscent of ones Deb had spoken to him years before. “It’s not such a big deal.”
“It’s a very big deal. Maybe not to you, Mr. Big Shot Sculptor, but to the rest of us mere mortals it’s really exciting.”
He shrugged, shifting uneasily in his seat. “I guess. It’s just always been about the work, you know?”
“Your vision.” She smiled into his eyes.
“I know it sounds corny.”
“No. You’re right. It is all about what you see. But, Kevin, what you see and how you see it is so extraordinary.”
“Serena—”
“No. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I need to say it. I was impressed, hugely impressed, with your work long before I met you. It’s a big part of the reason I took this assignment. But now, having seen you work, I’m awed. Your talent, what you can create, awes me.” She squeezed his hand as her eyes gazed steadily into his. “Really.”
He swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat, nodded because he didn’t know what to say. “Thanks.”
She nodded back. “Not that you aren’t an incredible pain in the ass when you’re working.”
He grinned. “That goes without saying.”
“Oh no. No, it doesn’t. It is however, a sentiment that bears repeating.”
He gave a fake smile. “Ha-ha, aren’t you funny?”
“It’s a gift.” She winked at him before leaning over and resting her cheek on his chest.
Wrapping his arms around her, he pressed her as close as possible. He loved this new, relaxed Serena, with her easy smiles and loving gestures. She still had moments of darkness, times when she was so far away he despaired of ever reaching her again. Not that he blamed her—if he’d had her life, he doubted that he would have half her courage or grace.
He snorted silently. Who was he kidding? Even with his relatively normal life, he was no match for her kindness and composure. A curious tightness started in his chest as he held her against him, a tightness that told him more than he wanted to know about his feelings for her.
He was oddly disappointed when the limo glided to a stop a few minutes later, as close as the driver could get them to the Museum of Photographic Arts.
The driver came around to help them out and Serena listened as Kevin and he debated where and when to meet. As she waited, she studied the Spanish architecture that was so much a part of Balboa Park. Most of the museums were two- or three-story stucco buildings with tile roofs. Flowers and trees abounded, as did sunshine, and Serena drew a deep breath of the cool, clean air into her lungs. The bayou might be Kevin’s all-time favorite place, but she loved San Diego, had always promised herself that when her photos really caught on she would buy a place here and spend half the year. Not that she didn’t like Louisiana, but the peace and tranquillity that permeated most of San Diego really appealed to her. Maybe because she’d had so little peace in her own life.
She continued contemplating the building as she took a few deep breaths. Excitement thrummed through her as she thought of what the next hour would bring. Not just a look at her good friend’s truly wonderful photos, which was exciting enough on its own. But also something more … stimulating. She looked at Kevin through her lashes as he escorted her past the little coffee stand doing a brisk business and into the building.
The contrast between the bright, warm outdoors and the cool darkness of the photography museum took a few moments to get used to. As Serena paused to get her bearings, Kevin reached for his wallet to pay the admission price, but Serena stopped him.
“My surprise, my treat,” she said, pulling out a twenty-dollar bill.
Kevin eyed her in surprise. “I don’t mind—”
“I do.” She squeezed his hand before turning to the elderly woman behind the desk. “Two please.”
“I only charged you half price, since we’re closing in about forty-five minutes,” she was told as the woman gave her more change than she expected. “That’s why we’re just about empty.”
Perfect. Anticipation thrummed through Serena as she tugged Kevin into the main collection room. “Thanks. That’s great,” she called over her shoulder. “We just want to look around a little.”
They strolled through the main gallery looking at the photos by numerous photographers. Kevin stopped before two photos with artificially bright colors that ran together. “I like these,” he murmured, studying the pictures of a street fair. In the first, all the people and booths blurred together in a surreal riot of color with only the perfect sandcastles in the distance in focus. The second had the same blurred colorscape, but it focused on the once perfect sandcastles being destroyed as children in brightly colored suits ran through them.
He glanced down to see the photographer’s name, felt a jolt when he realized they were Serena’s. His eyes flew to hers and she shrugged. “My one and only museum pieces.”
“They’re fabulous. I didn’t realize—”
“Didn’t realize what?” she teased, dragging him away. “That I actually know what I’m doing?”
“No!” he protested. “Just that—”
She leaned forward and kissed him, effectively shutting down his argument. “Come on. I want to see Glenn’s work.” She pulled him into one of the smaller rooms off the main one.
It took him a moment to adjust to the near total blackness in the room, the darkness illuminated only by the small spotlights focused individually on each of the photos on the wall. As his eyes gradually adjusted, he took in the images closest to him. His body stiffened a little more with each frame that he looked at.
He reached out, snagged Serena’s hand as she moved away from him. “Exactly what kind of exhibit is this?” he asked.
She grinned slyly, tugging her hand from his. “Glenn specializes in erotic photography.”
Kevin sucked air through his teeth as he hardened instantly. He stared at a particularly provocative black-and-white photo of a man on his knees in front of a woman. They were both dressed, but her skirt was hiked up to her waist. And though the camera was angled in such a way that it was impossible to see the details, the look on the woman’s face spoke volumes about what was going on.
His overactive libido substituted Serena’s gorgeous face and body for the woman’s in the photograph and he felt himself growing harder still. He shifted, trying to make his erection a little less noticeable.
Until he saw the next picture in the series. The same woman was lying on a bed, her dress gone and her thighs spread open as she rested on her elbows. Though her underwear covered as much as a bathing suit, once again it was the look in her eyes and the energy pouring through her that told the story. Last night, Serena had been in just that position. Her beautiful back arched, her gorgeous br**sts lifted for his mouth, her silken thighs laid open for him.
Suddenly a powerful surge of lust hit him, so powerful, in fact, that he was afraid to move in case he totally lost it. What the hell was wrong with him? He was an artist, had studied erotic art and photography in school and had never reacted to it like this. So why now, when he wanted to be cool and suave, was he reacting like a sex-crazed teenager?
Serena’s spicy perfume tempted him almost beyond bearing as she came back to him, reaching out a hand to grasp his. “Do you like?” Her voice was low and teasing.
He cleared his throat, tried not to embarrass himself. “What’s not to like?”
“That’s what I say,” she said with a grin. “Come here, I want to show you my favorites.”
She dragged him over to a corner display of three black-and-white photos. The second he was close enough to see, his entire body tightened to the point of agony. The first photo showed a man and a woman in evening clothes. They were running in the rain, and though they had an umbrella, the woman’s white dress was plastered to her body, revealing shadows of both her ni**les and her pubic hair. In the second photo, the man had her backed up against a brick wall. His body pressed intimately against hers while his hands tangled in her wet hair and his mouth brushed kisses on her neck.
The final photo showed him cupping her ass while she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her skirt was bunched between them and her head rested against the wall as he sucked her nipple into his mouth. As he stared, wordlessly, at the picture, flashes of Serena in just such a position whirled through his mind. Her beautiful br**sts spilling over the top of her dress. Her long, elegant legs wrapped around his waist. Her head thrown back in ecstasy as he pumped into her again and again.
The image was so real he nearly came right there in the middle of the museum. Clearing his throat, Kevin blinked and shook his head, trying desperately to chase the image of Serena in the middle of an orgasm from his mind.
“So, what do you think?” she asked.
“About what?” He didn’t turn and look at her, knowing that he’d grab her if he did. Not that looking at the photographs was doing much to calm him down, but he’d take what he could get in a crisis.
