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earlier had been rattling in my head on a loop and kept me in a constant state of anxious arousal.
    “Something else on your mind?” He pulled me from my thoughts when his fingertips flirted with the hem of the dress brushing in the breeze across my thighs.
    “Maybe.”
    “Jesus,” he pulled me into his arms then, the warmth a comfort against the cool breeze. His forehead dipped and his lips took mine in a pressing kiss. Soft, but with edge, just like everything he did. With his fingertips still roaming at my inner thigh and his other hand pressed against my waist, his tongue shoved past my lips and darted, fucking me in a way I’d been dreaming of since I’d first set eyes on his sculpted, sensual mouth.
    My heart thundered as one of Hunter’s hands dove in my hair and his tongue delved deeper, his lips bruising with passion before he finally pulled away, his breaths quick and shallow. His eyes fluttered closed just as I opened mine. “I wanted to shoot you against that tree today. The entire fucking time I wrapped the leather around her I thought of your body. Your dark hair. I wondered if your perfect pink lips matched your nipples. Fuck, Erin. I shouldn’t touch you for so many reasons, but you look up at me with those big dark eyes, and my dick pounds.”
    “Hunter, I—”
    “I’m serious, me touching you is wrong in every way, but I don’t think you want me to stop anymore than I want to.” Words clogged in my throat as I tightened my fists on his biceps. “But I’ll give you all the time I can.” He wove his fingers in mine. “Now, let’s get closer.” He pulled me down the path to the entrance of the building as my stomach rolled with cartwheels.
    That kiss. Jesus Christ that kiss was incredible. But why was he so persistent that he wasn’t good for me? Wasn’t that my decision to make? He was different from anyone I’d ever met. The sweet reverence that emanated from his beautiful irises warmed the chilled chambers of my heart. Looking into Hunter’s eyes felt like seeing into my own soul.
    His hand fell away from mine then, and I turned to hear that familiar click and found Hunter, head behind his camera, taking pictures of a half crumbling stone archway with small heads engraved at the corners.
    “Sorry, the moon hit that corner in just the right angle; I had to capture it before it was gone.” His face appeared apologetically.
    I smiled. “I love seeing you work.” I was pulled into his gaze, his swirling depths lit in the shadowed light.
    “Some people are bothered by the click.”
    “Not me. It’s comforting.” I slid my hands out to his wrists, unwinding the strap he’d twisted to keep the camera safe, and brought it to my face. I aimed, focused the lens, then clicked. “I want a copy of that one.” I grinned after inspecting the finished image, handing it back to him.
    His eyebrows lifted with amusement until he saw the picture. While the moment when I’d snapped it had been lighthearted as most everything with him was, the picture was not. In the photo, his face was caught in a look of conflicted contemplation. I shuddered at the memories that must be imprinted in his mind.
    “I’m deleting it,” he huffed, and I heard beeps on the camera as he pushed buttons.
    “No!” I reached a hand to stop him. He pulled away and a sardonic smile lit his face.
    “I don’t take photos of myself. Let’s leave it at that.” The tone of his voice told me it wasn’t up for discussion.
    “A photographer that doesn’t take photos of himself?”
    “Leave it, Erin,” he whispered.
    “Why?”
    “Let me take one of you then.”
    “Nuh—uh.” I tucked a strand behind my ear and looked to the ceiling again.
    “I’ve been dying to take a picture of you since we met. Let me,” he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion, though I couldn’t understand why.
    I sighed and stood in place, crossing my arms awkwardly. “Okay.”
    He circled me slowly, his eyes scanning my form,