–“What are you sighing about?”–
I heard a guy’s voice, and nearly jumped out of my skin. My eyes flew wide open, and there was John standing in front of me, leaning effortlessly on the wall with one of those nice arms of his.

–“John? I thought I’d finished taking photos?”– I told him

It was a miracle I managed to speak, considering the amount of thoughts about him rushing through my head right then.

He raised an eyebrow at me, doing one of those little sideways grins of his. Fuck me.

–“Apparently not. They want some more pictures, just of me,”– he said.

–“Of course,”– I replied.

Not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed that he hadn’t come back just to see me, I got to my feet. I really was hopeless.

In one smooth movement, he plonked himself down on the sofa and stretched out the full length of it, watching me the entire time. Why was that so hot? I had no clue, but I resigned myself to that fact this photoshoot was going to last a painfully long time. As I set up my camera again, John tried to talk to me.

–“So, where are you from?”– He asked. I noticed him eyeing me up and down, but tried really hard not to react to it.

–“New York, but outside of the city,”– I replied, –“it’s a nice enough place, I guess.”–

John just laughed.

–“Gotta be better than Birmingham, love.”– he responded

I shivered, but hopefully not noticeably. Why did he call me love?? And how did it have such an effect on me?

–“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never been there.”– I laughed nervously. I took another photo.

John flashed me his best smile, and I felt my knees go a bit weak. This man had too much power over me, it wasn’t fair. He shifted on the sofa so he was leaning half off it and undid another button on his shirt so that it was almost open, exposing his chest. This was criminal.

I just took another photo.

Finally, he seemed contended with the amount of pictures I’d taken, and sat up properly on the seat, quickly attending to his hair. I was still feeling the effects of his earlier smile.

As I turned to go, he stopped me.

–“Can I see them?”– he asked.

I paused, steadying myself to go and join him. How on Earth was this really happening? Only an hour ago, I barely knew anything about the man, and now I was completely under his influence.

–“Well, I guess you can take a look at the film.”– I told him.

Nervously, I slid onto the sofa next to him, and started to dismantle my camera for him. He seemed genuinely interested, but there was definitely an ulterior motive here. As he took the film from my hand, his skin brushed mine and I shuddered and bit my lip. Instantly I wanted to die - there was no way he’d missed that, not in a million years - a man like him couldn’t miss it.

I saw him begin to grin knowingly.

–“You alright there?”– He feigned concern.

I tried to compose myself, but to no avail, so I just nodded. All I could think about was how much I wanted him to kiss me right now. How I wished he would.

He’d finished looking at the film now, so he handed it back to me, and I noticed how he took extra care to touch my hand again, just to see what I’d do. Bastard. And whatever effect he’d desired, he clearly got it, because I couldn’t contain myself, and drew a sharp intake of breath. Something lit up in his eyes as I looked at him.

Before I knew anything about it, my camera was on the floor and I was pinned beneath him on the sofa, and he was kissing me hard. I was paralysed with the shock of it for a second, but I quickly kissed back. He made a quiet sort of groaning sound.

Damn, that’s hot, I thought.

Things were starting to heat up a bit, too. He put one hand on my waist, and I opened the last buttons and began sliding off his shirt. How I had any idea what to do, I don’t know, but at that moment I think I was too turned on to think straight. His hands began to toy with the zip on with the back of my skirt, and I was going to let him take it off-

And then the door flew open.

Robert Palmer stood there, slightly concerned but not at all surprised. This was clearly a common occurrence, John was the whore to end all whores. I knew that.

He shot up instantly, grabbing frantically for his shirt to cover himself. Without a word, I snatched up my camera and left the room, a complete mess. Behind me, I heard John speak.

–“What the fuck, Robert?”– He snarled.

My hair must’ve looked awful, and my face was flaming. Barely remembering to check I had everything, I stormed out of the glass entrance doors and onto the street, ignoring the receptionist’s words to me. I hadn’t even heard them, though.

I was grateful for the cool air on my hot face - I was breathless and jumpy.

I was never doing that again.