The Violin Pt. 01

He looked at her scornfully. "Since when do we do homework?"

She had to laugh. "Not until five minutes before it's due, anyway," she admitted.

Keith pulled off his shirt unceremoniously, baring a lean, muscled chest and broad shoulders, and Kendra had to catch her breath. Her heartbeat went into overdrive. She was grateful to have the camera to hide behind. The lens seemed to love Keith, capturing his thick, curly lashes and stormy eyes that right now, were laser blue. His lips were plumper than they had any right to be. She scolded herself, remembering the purpose of the photos, and concentrated on close-ups of his scars.

Kendra took about a dozen pictures before stopping to fiddle with a task light, to get the brightest angle possible on his bare pecks. Keith took a break and slouched back on her window seat, his long, blue-jeaned legs splayed impolitely as he surveyed her lair. For some reason, he'd imagined her inner sanctum would be all pinks and whites—not that she was lame, but, well, she was so obviously a virgin. Instead it was surprisingly sensual. Richly colored pillows drowned her bed, and a wall of black and white photography included the curve of some buttocks and a single beautiful breast. He stopped before that framed photo.

"Is this yours?"

Kendra's mouth felt unnaturally dry. She puttered around on her desk, gathering her composure.

"You mean the shot or the subject?"

"Either."

"Yes. Both."

Keith walked up behind her, looking over the other test shots on her desk.

"It's beautiful."

She flushed at the compliment, feeling foolish. But damn, was his body tight!

"Okay, under the light," she ordered, coming in close to detail the bruising where his dad had twisted his arm. She snapped a few shots. An ugly pattern of fists, fading from green to yellow, bloomed up his back. Kendra traced them in wonder.

"When was this?"

"Last week," Keith said nonchalantly.

"Turn. Raise your arms."

She was different, he noticed, when she was taking pictures. More confident and businesslike.

"You like taking these pictures, don't you?" he asked in an odd, off-hand way.

"No! That would be sick."

He stepped closer to her and took the camera out of her hands. "I don't mean the scars. I mean, you like photographing me. You like looking at my body."

"It's aiight, I guess, from an artistic standpoint." Kendra felt prickles of sweat start at her temples, belying her breezy tone. Butterflies were having a party in her stomach. She tried to sidestep him, to get some space, but he blocked her at every turn.

"Move! What's your deal?"

"Relax." He bent near her ear, until she could feel his breath on her neck. He was so close, his lips brushed her earlobe, and she couldn't control a tiny shiver. His voice was dangerously soft. She'd heard about this; the Everett charm. The men of Keith's family had a reputation for more than volatile tempers. They could talk the panties off a nun, and the rumor around the girls' locker room was that Keith had heavy equipment and knew how to use it.

"I appreciate you taking the pictures, I really do. I just don't see why you get to have all the fun. Pose for me. Let me take a picture of you," he wheedled.

He turned her around to face the mirror on her dresser as he spoke, and their eyes met in the reflection. It was strangely erotic to see him towering over her from behind. His left hand casually lifted the hem of her tee, exposing her belly button, and he snapped the shot.

"What are you doing? Stop!" Then, "What if someone sees it?"

"No one's gonna see." He turned the camera so she could see the picture. Framed between the mirror and his shirtlessness, her raw emotions were exposed. The contrast of his hand on her stomach was terribly sexy. She looked apprehensive yet curious, and something more: aroused. He'd captured a look she hadn't known she possessed. It was erotic, exciting, and she wanted more.

"It can't get out," she murmured.

"Never. We'll delete them soon as we're done."

She bit her lip, deliberating. "How should I pose?"

"Any way you like."

She looked down shyly and he gently tugged her shirt off one shoulder. This time, the camera caught his own look of desire. Kendra felt a thrill of power looking at the picture, really seeing for the first time how she affected a man. As the shoot went on, she gradually grew bolder, until she felt tipsy with confidence. She stepped away from the mirror and, turning her back to him, removed her top and bra simultaneously, the way she'd seen a girl do in a movie. She turned to face him, cupping her naked breasts. Their full curves spilled around the confines of her hands.

"Only from behind," she stipulated. But when Kendra looked into Keith's eyes, she wondered if she had gone too far.

He was staring at her, his arm shaking at his side. He had to will himself under control. Be happy she's gone this far, he scolded himself. He wanted her so badly. If it were any other girl, he knew, he would've been very busy for the next half hour. But Kendra wasn't any other girl; she wasn't Tricia, or Lacy, or one of the cheerleaders. She was gentle and she was his friend. Though he was hard enough to break glass, he forced his voice to some semblance of normalcy.

"Okay, stand by the window."

She obeyed, facing away from him, and he snapped. The photos showed sunlight spilling down her smooth, graceful back, over the swell of her ass in a perfect figure eight. He couldn't resist; he laid a single kiss at the nape of her neck, then held the camera over her shoulder to show her. The interplay of shadow and light made the pictures almost abstract. His hands surged around to cover hers over her breasts.

"See? Beautiful," he murmured, eyes closed. "You're like a perfect violin."

She turned and hugged him, and he could feel her breasts crush against him. His hands traced the racetrack curves of her back and hips, then seemingly of their own accord floated up to massage the sides of her titties. He was feverish for her, and ducked down to kiss her, but she turned her head.

"You better get going. My parents will be home soon."

"God, can I at least see them?" he begged. He felt like his dick would burst out of his jeans.

"No, because that won't be enough." She grabbed her shirt and pulled it over her head, giving him the briefest glimpse of her nipples, bare and glorious. "For me or you. Now, go!"