Playing With Spencer by Izaia Winter
SNEAK PEEK
Waiting For Derek
A Pet Play Romance
Chapter One
Derek
Istared at the man sitting across from me, certain I must have heard him wrong.
His presence in my studio wasn’t surprising. People came in all the time without an appointment. I saw aspiring models and actors wanting headshots. Moms and dads dragging their kids along for family portraits. Professionals needing photos for their websites. And that was just the stuff I could do in my studio. I also did engagement photos and weddings, proms, corporate events, school photos, and just about every kind of event that needed a photographer. The only thing I didn’t do was stoop to photographing celebrities as they made their short trip from their hotels to their cars, yelling at them to look at me so I could get the shot that the tabloids would pay the big bucks for.
When Mr. Hayes had entered my studio, my heart had nearly wept with the need to photograph him. Portraits were my first love, and his face looked like it had been made to be loved by a camera. His face was boyish and young, but it was his eyes that captivated me. They were a startling shade of blue-green, and the look in them was at complete odds with the wide smile that graced his face. His smile said ‘don’t worry, I won’t hurt you’ while his eyes said ‘I will eat you alive if you so much as touch me.’ My fingers had itched, wanting to reach for my camera and capture that look forever. I’d practically salivated with the need to take his portrait.
But this?
“I’m sorry, Mr. Hayes,” I said as I folded my hands together and placed them on my desk. “Can you repeat that?”
“Call me Foster.” His grin widened as if he found my embarrassment funny. “And I’ll start from the beginning. I own a BDSM club. You do know what BDSM is, right?”
I felt my cheeks flush despite my desire to keep my emotions in check. “In a sense,” I answered.
A very vague sense. All of what I knew about BDSM had come from television, and most of it hadn’t been portrayed in a very positive light. I knew about handcuffs and whips and tying people up, but that was really it. I’d always found it to be off-putting and heavy-handed. Very ‘lick my boots’ and ‘crawl on the floor.’ Not exactly my cup of tea.
People wouldn’t know it by looking at me, but I preferred my relationships to be more… affectionate in nature. In public, I was always calm and collected. A consummate professional. But in private, I was the kind of person that craved touch. And lots of it. Whether it was full-blown cuddling on the couch or just having my foot resting against my partner’s leg, I needed to feel connected to them in some way. I’d been accused of being clingy and high-maintenance. All of which just didn’t vibe with my idea of BDSM.
“I’m looking to hire a photographer to come to the club to take photos,” Foster said as he crossed his legs and stared me down. “I want to revamp our website,” he explained. “I feel like it’s getting a bit dated.”
“And what would you want me to take photos of?” I asked.
“I don’t know. The lobby. The bar. The main room. The private rooms. Some with people in them. Some with no people in them. You’re the photographer. I’d leave that all up to you. Our website has two layers,” he went on to explain. “One is visible to the public, and the other is password protected for members only. I can share both with you so you can get an idea of what we already have and see the differences between what we show to the public versus what we keep private.”
“Right.” I grabbed a pen and twirled it around my fingers. “And the other thing?”
“Okay, hear me out,” Foster said with a manic smile as he lifted his hands to paint a picture of it for me. “So, I had this idea, right. I was in my apartment, and I have this fantastic rug. Are you still with me?”
“I think so?”
“Good. Anyway, my submissive, Elias, was kneeling on the rug. Our scene had ended. There was sunlight pouring in through the windows, his skin was glistening, and his expression?” Foster closed his eyes and gave a small moan. “Beautiful. I wanted to take his picture, but all I had was my phone. And Elias deserves better quality than my shitty, whatever megapixel phone. So, I started thinking. What if the club had its own photographer?”
“Which means what exactly?” I asked.
Foster grinned. “I have a few ideas.”
I bet he did. Foster didn’t seem like the type to propose an idea unless he’d worked out every kink. Ha, kink.
ALSO BY IZAIA WINTER
Different Hearts Series
1. Caring For Little Ollie
2. Fixing Little Red
3. Serving Mr. Chamberlain
4. Healing Carson's Little
5. Teaching Foster's Cowboy
6. Playing With Spencer
7. Waiting For Derek - COMING SOON