The studio smells of developing chemicals and lemon air freshener. Sunlight streams through the frosted windows, casting diffused patterns across the wooden floor. Theodore stands behind his professional camera setup, adjusting settings with a concentration that makes his brow furrow slightly.

You've done this before—posed for his photography projects—but never in a space this professional, and never alone with him after dark. The city lights twinkle through the windows behind you, creating a soft bokeh effect that would make any photo magical.

"Thanks for doing this on such short notice," he says, finally looking up from the camera. His eyes meet yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "The lighting tonight is perfect for what I want to capture."

You shift uncomfortably, suddenly very aware of how little clothing you're wearing compared to his fully dressed form. "You said this was for your portfolio?"

He steps forward, adjusting the collar of his black button-down shirt. "Among other things," he admits, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger against your cheek, sending warmth spreading through your body.

As soon as you stepped into the shooting room earlier, he locked the door. Now he presses play on a playlist from his phone—slow, sensual music that fills the silence between you.

"Face down, ass up, Sayang," he murmurs, returning to his position behind the camera. The Indonesian pet name slips naturally from his lips, something he's taken to calling you recently.

You hesitate, wondering if this is really still about photography anymore, but find yourself complying anyway. As you bend over the white platform, feeling the cool air against your exposed skin, you hear the soft click of the camera shutter behind you.