Free Syria's Seduction: A New Adult Introduction to the Boudoir Sessions Series by Starla Cole Page A

breezy to put this reflector on a stand. Would you mind holding it for a minute?”
    Syria hesitated. She’d never had a professional picture taken other than at school. The man had a ton of equipment spread out. Lenses, a tripod, two big cases, and a flash on a stand weighted down with sand bags. She set her keys and blanket in the grass. “Okay.”
    The man held out his hand to shake hers, his arm tan and lean in the rolled-up sleeve of his button-down shirt, pale blue, a near-perfect match for his eyes. “I’m Anthony.” His grip was firm. “I do boudoir photography.”
    Syria glanced back at the woman, who was adjusting the strap of a black stiletto heel, nonplussed that she was showing so much skin. “You often shoot out here?”
    “I insisted,” the woman said. “I was tired of all the chaise lounge shots and cheesy backdrops.”
    Anthony shrugged. “I do what my clients ask.” He handed Syria the disc.
    “What do I do?”
    “See where the sun is?” He pointed into the sky. “Your job is to reflect that light onto her face, so we get a little extra sparkle.” He moved the disc around. “Can you see the light as I move it?”
    Syria couldn’t see anything. “I don’t think so.”
    “Look at her belly.”
    Syria blushed as she stared at the women’s pale flat midsection. She hoped she looked half as good when she got to that age.
    “Do you see the bright spot?” Anthony asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Now watch it move.” He tilted the disc and the light moved up the woman’s body to her face.
    “I get it now.”
    He handed her the reflector, and she angled it like he had, starting on the belly, and moving up to her face.
    “Perfect,” he said. “Much better light. You learn fast.”
    Syria warmed over with the compliment. It was the first nice thing anyone had said to her that day, thanks to Nurse Calhoun.
    Anthony picked up his camera. “Sharon, draw that knee forward. Perfect. Now shoulder back.” The woman adjusted, and Syria could instantly see the improvement. Her thigh was leaner, not that it needed to be, and her boob popped out more prominently, creating a shadow of cleavage.
    “The trick,” Anthony said, taking a few steps toward Sharon’s head. “Is to make sure we emphasize the best parts.” He snapped a few shots. “And de-emphasize anything we don’t want to draw attention to.” He glanced down at the woman. “Not that anything on you isn’t perfect.”
    The woman laughed. “Photoshop those stretch marks or I’ll torch your studio.”
    Anthony smiled. “Threats will get you everywhere.” He took a few more images. “Chin up, eyes closed.”
    He knew what he was doing. The rapport kept the woman relaxed, and the new position switched the focus from her body to her face. He circled her, taking shots from several angles. Without moving the woman, Anthony was getting a number of completely different looks. Syria wished she could see his display to know how he was cropping her.
    “So when do I get naked?” she asked.
    Syria’s almost dropped the reflector. Couldn’t they get arrested for that? She looked around frantically to see if anyone was watching.
    “Whenever you like,” Anthony said.
    “Here in the grass?” Sharon looked thoughtful. “That sounds delicious.”
    “Let me get a few more of these,” Anthony said. “Lay flat now.”
    The woman moved to her back. He reached down and fluffed out her short blond hair, perfectly processed with even, balanced highlights. Syria did very little to her own hair, unable to afford much more than a SuperCut to trim the ends every few months.
    Anthony moved down the woman’s body, suggesting changes to her position, but was careful never to actually touch her other than her hair or her shoe. Interesting. Despite her crazy show of skin and extremely sexy look, he was completely professional, complimenting her regularly, but not in a skeezy way. Just simple little phrases, like, “That looks perfect.” Or “Let’s