I nod my head because I know exactly what he means. “Do you want to get out of here?” I say. I let my arm fall and brush against his crotch. “I ...hink we have some unfinished business.” I try to calculate how many seconds it would take to unbuckle him, spread my legs, and push him into me. The thought makes me ache. He hesitates for a second and then I remember he has a fiancee upstairs. She’s probably waiting for him, scrolling through Instagram in her pyjamas, cold cream on her face. “I don’t. “My version of novocaine and you are welcome to self medicate, but…” I stared down at the rear display on my Canon Mark IV, “I’m certain I’ve got what I need.” I spun the camera and flashed him the image. The depth and character were fucking amazing and I hadn’t even edited it yet. He smiled.“That's just it, kid. You have a way about you.” He was putting on his Canali herringbone overcoat, which brought out the flecks of grey on his chin. “I looked over some of your work before I agreed to. More

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