Touch of the Camera Read Online Free Page B

was a new flavour and I thoroughly enjoyed it. As I chewed a piece of shrimp, I glanced up at Shang to see if he was looking my way. He was! I blushed and quickly averted my gaze back to my plate. This was…unique. Shang was easily in his mid-twenties and yet, we were sitting there like two high school kids.
    I liked Shang. Really liked him. My stomach fluttered constantly around him and I found myself trembling when he looked at me. He was sweet and passionate about photography. He worked his ass off to get the job done and create immaculate art—that was such a turn-on.
    When we’d finished eating, I grabbed my purse to leave but a small band came out and started playing a traditional French dance. Shang stood and offered his hand. I took it and allowed him to lead me to the dance floor. I knew how to move in front of the camera, but I hadn’t really had any formal dance instruction. Shang had been all over the world and I was sure he’d picked up a move or two—hopefully he wouldn’t bust anything too extravagant out on me.
    As we made it to the middle of the dance floor, the band saw us and played louder, smiling as Shang twirled me. My hair spun around my face, curls bouncing against my shoulders. Shang grabbed me by the waist and pulled me against him. My breath hitched at the intensity in his eyes. He was totally focused on his moves. We began swaying our hips and I draped my arms around his neck. I stared into his impossibly dark eyes, seeing the happiness dancing in them.
    Our bodies moved together, getting closer until our thighs touched. I swore I could feel his cock pressing into my lower stomach. I responded, goose bumps rolling over my skin. I shuddered and blushed. Please don’t let Shang see through me. Please, please, please!
    To break the intimacy and the growing desire inside me, I parted from Shang and threw my hands above my head. Placing my feet apart, one in front of the other, I did the only fancy dance I knew—the flamenco. It’s a wild dance from southern Spain, kind of like salsa dancing in Mexico. I began moving my feet and arms, spinning my body and giving as much attitude as I could. It would have been more effective if I’d had the gown with ruffles on the bottom like I had in Spain, but my feathered skirt would have to do. Shang stood back, arms over his chest, smiling as I moved.
    The band picked up their pace to match my dance. I spun, stomped and stretched, hoping I wouldn’t fall on my face. Vaguely, I could see a dozen or so eyes on me. Fabulous. Nothing like having an audience . The music sped up and people started clapping to the beat. To my surprise, it motivated me to give it my all. I moved even faster, and Shang laughed as I flashed him an inviting glance. I stomped one last time and struck a pose.
    As the room filled with claps and a few “woo-hoos!” I began to blush and immediately returned to my bashful self. Sure, I’d known I was being watched, but in the heat of the dance it hadn’t bothered me. Now it hit and I hid in Shang’s arms. He pulled me close, chuckling as my blushing took over.
    I felt warm, soft lips against my temple and my gaze flew to Shang. He looked down at me with dangerously sexy intensity. I almost exploded in need.
    “Let’s get out of here,” Shang whispered.
    I nodded then walked over to grab my purse. Shang threw money down on the table before we left, people complimenting me as we passed.
    In the car Shang took my hand. His calloused palm didn’t feel as rough as I remembered it He tightened his grasp on me and heat engulfed my being. My heart began beating hard in my chest. Shang squeezed my hand in more of a reassuring gesture. Then I realised we were not heading to my house. My eyes widened and a part of me started freaking out internally, screaming a prayer that we were going to Shang’s.
    We pulled up in front of a motel fifteen minutes later. Really? A motel? Could it get more cliché?
    “Sorry, I’ve lived here for a few