Page 39 of Beauty and the Bosshole

The photographer chuckles and snaps a few photos. "Perfect. That's exactly the energy I want to capture. Now, why don't we start with a drink or two, get nice and relaxed, then we can capture some shots on the chaise? Ava, I’d like to see you lying back all nice and comfy, and Reese, you join your beautiful wife however feels natural."

We head over to where the photographer has set up some champagne, and I pour us both a glass. “It feels unnatural to be around you looking as stunning as you are without tearing your clothes off,” I tell Ava as I hand her a glass.

She blushes slightly. “Behave, husband.”

"I can't promise that," I reply with a wink, clinking my glass against hers before taking a sip of the effervescent liquid.

While we finish our drinks and have a closer look around the studio, the photographer busies herself by adjusting the lighting, moving a few pillows on the chaise, and setting up her cameraon the tripod to take a few test shots. The atmosphere in the studio is relaxed and inviting, with soft music playing in the background that sounds like a blend of blues and jazz.

Ava moves to the chaise lounge, her hips swaying slightly to the rhythm of the music. She stretches languidly on the plush velvet upholstery, the deep burgundy of her dress contrasting beautifully with her creamy skin. I sit beside her, one hand resting on her thigh as I gaze down at her adoringly.

"That's perfect," the photographer encourages, moving around us with her camera. "Just focus on each other, like you're the only two people in the world."

As the shoot progresses, Ava and I fall into an easy rhythm, our poses becoming increasingly more playful and affectionate. At one point, she surprises me by jumping onto my back, her laughter ringing out as I stumble forward before regaining my balance.

"You're going to pay for that, wife," I growl teasingly, spinning around until she's breathless and dizzy.

"Promises, promises," she retorts, sliding off my back but leaving her fingers on my shoulders as she sashays around until she’s standing in front of me.

“You think I’m not serious?”

She bounces a shoulder, and I respond by scooping her up in my arms and making a beeline for the nostalgic clawfoot tub in the corner of the room. Ava squeals in delight, clinging onto me until I set her on her feet beside it. Then her laughter turns into a gasp when my fingers find the zipper in her dress and I start to drag it down her spine.

"What are you doing?" she whispers, her voice a little husky as the fabric loosens around her body.

“Why, I’m getting you ready for your bath, dear.”

Her eyes widen as I pull the dress from her shoulders and let it pool at her feet, revealing her lacey blush-colored lingerie. Itake a step back to admire her before reaching for the hem of my shirt. She watches me with wide eyes as I pull the fabric over my head, exposing my broad chest and abs.

"What was it I said earlier about behaving?" she says, her fingers brushing against my bare chest before tracing down the ridges of my abs, her breathing heavy.

"I don’t recall agreeing to any of that, sweetheart," I reply, leaning in to press a hot, desperate kiss on her lips. This is who we are—teasing, tugging, and laughing. Feeding off each other's energy. Life feels perfect whenever I’m around her, and I can’t get enough.

The photographer doesn’t miss a beat, her camera clicking away as she moves around us, capturing our intimate dance from all angles. "You're both doing great."

For some reason, it doesn't feel awkward or intrusive to have someone documenting such a private moment between Ava and me. Instead, it feels natural, as if the photographer is merely a silent observer in our love story, framing our raw emotions through her lens.

Without breaking our kiss, I guide Ava to step into the tub, our bare feet making a soft thumping sound against the porcelain. She gasps into my mouth as she stumbles slightly, and I chuckle low in my throat, steadying her with my arms around her waist. As she regains her footing, my hands trail down her arms, coming to rest on her hips as I gently guide her down into the empty tub. She lets out a soft sigh, her body melting against mine as we settle into a comfortable entwinement.

"Beautiful," murmurs the photographer. "Keep that energy flowing." She continues to circle us, the shutter on her camera clicking away.

Ava giggles and I take advantage of her upturned mouth to plant a kiss there. My hands move up her body, lightly tracing the lace of her bra before gliding back down to cup her asscheeks. The softness of her skin beneath my fingertips sends a rush of desire through me, and I lean in to claim her lips once more. This time, Ava is the one to deepen the kiss, her fingers tangling in my hair as she shifts onto her knees, straddling me as she pulls me closer. I lean up to worship her.

“These pictures are truly amazing,” the photographer crows. “You two are absolute naturals.”

As the photoshoot draws to a close, the photographer has us pose on the bed, Ava's head resting on my chest as I wrap my arms around her. The intimacy of the moment hits me, and I find myself getting lost in the amazing woman I’m holding in my arms.

“My offer to donate a million dollars to the cat rescue still stands,” I murmur, brushing my lips against the top of her hair.

She jerks her head up quickly and smiles. “Seriously?”

I nod. “Consider it my wedding gift to you.”

“I thought this shoot was a wedding gift.”

“Oh, this ismywedding gift.”

She giggles and shifts up a little to plant a soft kiss on my lips. “You’re a pretty amazing husband, Reese.”