Read Online Ten Thousand Words by Kelli Jean - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kelli Jean
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that head, Xanthe?” I asked, clicking away.
Refusing to look at the camera, she answered, “I’m not sure what you want from me.”
“I want to take pictures of my wonderful Xanthe.”
That shocked her. It shocked me, too.
She stared hard at me for a few seconds before she cracked a joyless, self-deprecating smile. “Is that how you make your models express emotion? Just say things that stun the shit out of them?”
“Sometimes,” I replied, defensive.
I hadn’t meant to say that to her at all. It had just popped out. There’d been no need to coax anything out of her. She was showing me everything, all on her own terms.
“Can we…” Her voice trailed off into the cool breeze.
“Can we, what?”
“Walk for a bit?”
I lowered the camera once more, and we stared at each other across the space between us.
“What are you afraid of?” I asked softly.
“A few things,” she replied.
That was no answer at all.
“What are you afraid of?” she asked me.
“Right now?”
“Sure.”
“Of being misunderstood.”
Xanthe flinched, looking stricken. “Am I misunderstanding you then?” she asked softly.
Slowly, I walked up to her, not taking my gaze from hers. I had to give her credit. Her spine straightened, and she stood her ground. Her courage was so sensual. I wanted to reach out and stroke it, take a little piece of it for myself.
“I hope to hell you understand me just fine,” I told her. “No one has ever engaged my attention as you have. So…just tell me you understand, so I can keep taking photos of you.”
She swallowed thickly, and my brain swamped with all sorts of wonderfully dirty thoughts of her. I stared at her mouth as her lips parted slightly. The tip of her tongue darted out to moisten them.
“I understand.”
“Good,” I stated.
For me, this was huge. Never had I felt such a strong reaction to another person before. My attraction was only growing with the more time I spent in Xanthe’s company, and when I wasn’t in it, I wished I were.
The fact was, I dated a lot. Back home, I had been keeping company with several women, both in the bedroom and out. They were all as Mandy had described—bombshell beauties. Not all of them put together could generate a fraction of the interest Xanthe inspired in me though.
“Are you seeing anyone back home?” I asked her, wanting to come clean on my end.
Surprised, she said, “No. You?”
I nodded. “Nothing serious though.”
Her gaze dropped to the ground. She looked to be mentally berating herself, and I felt like the ass once again.
“None of them are particularly special, Xanthe. Just friends. They date other people, too. It’s just easier that way.”
We started walking over a stone bridge when she stopped to lean on the railing, and she peered over the side at the stream beneath.
“What are you thinking?” I asked, hoping she understood that she was something special.
We might have just met, but I knew when something was worth investing in.
She shrugged, closing herself off.
“Tell me.”
“What do you mean by, it’s easier?”
“You know, no strings attached. Easy sex. Meaningless sex. A good time when we’re looking for it and no bullshit when we’re not.”
“I’ve never had a relationship like that.”
I never wanted her to experience one either. If all I had wanted was sex with a weirdo hipster, I’d have tried getting in her pants already. The fact that I wasn’t was pretty new to me, too.
Although I had never actively looked for meaning in my relationships, it wasn’t that I was opposed to it.
Why does this feel so different?
Because she was different. She was like looking through a brand-new lens where the world was fresh and bright, the colors more intense, clear. Xanthe made me think , which was a hell of a lot more than I could say about the women I had back in Amsterdam.
“What sort of relationships do you have then?” I asked her, standing close enough to brush her arm,
Refusing to look at the camera, she answered, “I’m not sure what you want from me.”
“I want to take pictures of my wonderful Xanthe.”
That shocked her. It shocked me, too.
She stared hard at me for a few seconds before she cracked a joyless, self-deprecating smile. “Is that how you make your models express emotion? Just say things that stun the shit out of them?”
“Sometimes,” I replied, defensive.
I hadn’t meant to say that to her at all. It had just popped out. There’d been no need to coax anything out of her. She was showing me everything, all on her own terms.
“Can we…” Her voice trailed off into the cool breeze.
“Can we, what?”
“Walk for a bit?”
I lowered the camera once more, and we stared at each other across the space between us.
“What are you afraid of?” I asked softly.
“A few things,” she replied.
That was no answer at all.
“What are you afraid of?” she asked me.
“Right now?”
“Sure.”
“Of being misunderstood.”
Xanthe flinched, looking stricken. “Am I misunderstanding you then?” she asked softly.
Slowly, I walked up to her, not taking my gaze from hers. I had to give her credit. Her spine straightened, and she stood her ground. Her courage was so sensual. I wanted to reach out and stroke it, take a little piece of it for myself.
“I hope to hell you understand me just fine,” I told her. “No one has ever engaged my attention as you have. So…just tell me you understand, so I can keep taking photos of you.”
She swallowed thickly, and my brain swamped with all sorts of wonderfully dirty thoughts of her. I stared at her mouth as her lips parted slightly. The tip of her tongue darted out to moisten them.
“I understand.”
“Good,” I stated.
For me, this was huge. Never had I felt such a strong reaction to another person before. My attraction was only growing with the more time I spent in Xanthe’s company, and when I wasn’t in it, I wished I were.
The fact was, I dated a lot. Back home, I had been keeping company with several women, both in the bedroom and out. They were all as Mandy had described—bombshell beauties. Not all of them put together could generate a fraction of the interest Xanthe inspired in me though.
“Are you seeing anyone back home?” I asked her, wanting to come clean on my end.
Surprised, she said, “No. You?”
I nodded. “Nothing serious though.”
Her gaze dropped to the ground. She looked to be mentally berating herself, and I felt like the ass once again.
“None of them are particularly special, Xanthe. Just friends. They date other people, too. It’s just easier that way.”
We started walking over a stone bridge when she stopped to lean on the railing, and she peered over the side at the stream beneath.
“What are you thinking?” I asked, hoping she understood that she was something special.
We might have just met, but I knew when something was worth investing in.
She shrugged, closing herself off.
“Tell me.”
“What do you mean by, it’s easier?”
“You know, no strings attached. Easy sex. Meaningless sex. A good time when we’re looking for it and no bullshit when we’re not.”
“I’ve never had a relationship like that.”
I never wanted her to experience one either. If all I had wanted was sex with a weirdo hipster, I’d have tried getting in her pants already. The fact that I wasn’t was pretty new to me, too.
Although I had never actively looked for meaning in my relationships, it wasn’t that I was opposed to it.
Why does this feel so different?
Because she was different. She was like looking through a brand-new lens where the world was fresh and bright, the colors more intense, clear. Xanthe made me think , which was a hell of a lot more than I could say about the women I had back in Amsterdam.
“What sort of relationships do you have then?” I asked her, standing close enough to brush her arm,
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