by TC Matson
The furrowed brow deepens. “How is this fair? I’m not an artist and you draw for a living.”
“This is completely different, painting and sketching.” Okay, maybe not completely different, but I’m going with it. “Besides, we’re both equally creative.” I grab a stool and place it to the side of our canvases. I pull out my phone and open the timer app. “Think you can make something good in two hours?”
She chews on the side of her lip. “Nothing derogatory?”
I can’t help but laugh at her worry. “I would never do such a thing.”
She rolls her eyes with a smile and sets her purse on the counter against the wall. “You better not dare call mine crappy when I’m done.”
“Time starts now.” I press the button and blue numbers begin to change quickly.
Kenlyn stares at the canvas deep in thought as I move to the shelves of paint. I’ve thought about this all morning, trying to figure out what I wanted to give her. And the answer is simple—a very small glimpse. If I want behind her walls, even for a moment, I need to show her the color she brings into my life. My only problem is I’ve got to bust ass to get it done in two hours.
I place all the different colors of paint on the table beside me when she says, “Oh. And nothing scary.” She drops her view to her feet, looking timid. “I don’t like scary stuff.”
“So the skull I planned…” I let the question hang in the air with a smirk.
She narrows her eyes, tilts her head, and purses her lips.
Adorable. And I laugh.
I start in, hyper focused on the picture in my mind. Colors explode behind my eyelids, lines appear as the image becomes clearer, sharper. I work furiously but cautiously, knowing a simple mistake can’t be erased. I want this to be perfect. My hands move, arms stretching. Color after color hits the canvas. Spray cans rattle as I toss them back on the table and grab for another.
Stealing a glance at her for reference, a sudden shot of emotion squeezes deep in my chest. She looks…adorable. Concentration creases her forehead. Her tongue peeks out and slowly sweeps across her bottom lip as she sprays. Her face lights up, a smile forms, and then a giggle.
I’m marveled by the sight. She’s perfect. Like a gift. And that’s terrifying. Who the hell is offering me this gift?
Two hours later and my phone chimes just as I’m putting the final touches on the canvas. Kenlyn squeaks. “No! I need more time. A lot of it!”
I’m laughing as I shut off the alarm. “Time’s up, love.”
“Crap.” She looks putout. I watch as she puts the can of white paint on the shelf, dumbfounded since our canvases are white. Beside hers sit only five different colors. My side looks like a rainbow had the shits. She clasps her hands in front of her again. “How do we decide who goes first or are we crossing at the same time?”
No way I’m missing her reaction. “Ladies first.”
She takes a deep breath and moves to my side. The air she just inhaled rushes out of her and she slaps her hand over her mouth. She’s staring at herself, well, her to the best of my abilities. The time restraint was tough. It’s only half her face from the shoulder up, her golden-blonde hair fanned out over her shoulder. I even nailed the small upturn at the end of her petite nose. I focused more on her best assets—her eyes. In this case though, it’s only one. Where she’s in full color, a man—representing me—all black and whites, lacking any color, is pulling back a colorless curtain.
“It’s…Wow.” She stutters, staring at the picture. “That looks— Wow. Is that me?”
“Yeah.” I take a step closer, putting my chest to her back. “You bring light into my dark world.”
She spins to face me, eyes shining with awe. It causes that flip-flop in my chest again. I should be terrified of losing her, of her being stolen away. I should keep her just outside of my reach where the universe can’t touch her so it doesn’t destroy me. But whatever this feeling is, I’m gluttonous. I want more.
“Shit,” she complains with a whine. “I assure you mine looks nothing like this. Actually, I’d rather you not even look. I can’t compare. Let me keep my pride.” Her shoulders slump. “This wasn’t fair and now it’s evident.”
“Come on. It can’t be that bad,” I try reassuring her while biting back my grin.
Her smile contorts to the side, full of humor and she swings her arm, gesturing for me to cross over. “Don’t you dare laugh.”
I figured not laughing would be easy, but staring at what she came up with, I’m finding not laughing is a hell of a feat. I have to give it to her—she draws one hell of a Danger Mouse in front of a gray brick wall with the DM graffiti’ed in middle school edition bubble font.
“It’s the only thing I know how to draw without looking at something for a reference. Dad taught me when I was little.”
“I think it’s pretty kick ass.” I really do. “This will look good in my living room.”
She gasps. “Don’t you dare. You will not put that on display.”
Threading my fingers through her hair, I cup her head and bring her mouth to mine. “It would look great over my bed.” I slant my mouth to hers. She moans a little, gripping my shirt, and pulls me closer. My dick strains against my zipper, threatening to rip out like the fucking Hulk. I delve my tongue in, sweeping across hers. Fuck I want her.
Pulling back, I tug her bottom lip as I go. Her eyes are slow to flutter open and when they do, I’m done for…
Chapter Fifteen
Night swallows us as Ash leads me between two brick buildings and bounds up a set of steps where he holds the door open.
Slipping inside, I feel we’re not supposed to be here. “Where are we?”
“SportVerse,” he says in a hushed tone.
With my fingers intertwined in his, Ash leads us down the long hallway toward the front where the room opens up to a lobby. Taupe textured wallpaper lines the wall behind the tall man at the front desk and when he spots us, he tips his chin in acknowledgment.
“You got me?” Ash asks quietly.
The man’s gaze darts around and then he slides a keycard across the black countertop. “You have three hours before my shift is over and Carlos comes in to do his rounds.”
“I’ll be long gone before then.”
“You get caught, you go down alone,” he warns with a grave pointed glare.
Suddenly, my heart is in my throat.
“No worries,” Ash replies and moves us past the front desk.
“Please tell me what we’re doing isn’t illegal?” I whisper from behind him as he leads us down another dim hallway.
He tosses a glance over his shoulder. “Could go either way. Most likely we’ll get a slap on the hand and sent out the door.”
Most likely… I don’t like the sound of those odds. I peek into a glass door as we rush past it, catching a small glimpse of a row of empty treadmills and a huge tire against the back wall under neon teal lights.
“What the hell are we doing?”
Approaching a door at the end of the hall, he scans the card, and when the green light glows, he slips us into the room, pushing the door closed right behind us. Immediately, the smell of chlorine assaults my senses. He moves us through the dark room, past a small section of lockers and benches, before the reason behind the smell becomes visible. Light from the emergency signs shimmers and glints off the water.
“We’re swimming,” he tells me like it’s no big deal.
I’m horrified. “But I don’t have a bathing suit.”
His gaze crawls over me. “Bra and panties are the same thing as a bikini.” He tugs my fingers. “Come on, shy girl. Let loose. Live a little.”
Ash grabs the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head. I’m not at all prepared for the sight. My lips part and my mouth instantly goes dry. His chest is muscular with tattoos spread across his broad shoulders, down both powerful arms to his wrists, and along the right side of his ribs. His stomach…it’s better than what I imagined after alr
eady feeling it under my palms. It’s smooth, etched with a six-pack and just below it…the V I’ve never seen in person on any man. Suddenly, I’m hot. Everywhere. With desire.
He pops the button on his pants. My heartbeat rises. “If you don’t join me, I’ll throw you in. Clothes and all.”
I blink up to his smirking face. “You wouldn’t?” It comes out somewhat breathy and a whole lot of squeaky.
He dares me with a cock of his brow. “Try me.”
I can’t breathe as he lowers his pants and steps out of them. He’s gorgeous, from head to toe. Black boxer briefs do nothing to downplay the bulge in the front. Lust tortures me. His muscles move—flex and contract—as he takes several long strides and dives in.
I take my first breath.
He pops back up to the surface and shakes his head. Wet, his hair is flat with long messy strands falling over his eyes.
“You’ve got thirty seconds before I come get you,” he threatens with a smile.
Oh my god. I can’t do this. Can’t strip down to barely nothing and risk getting caught.
He’s dead set on me as he begins to wade toward the side. “Fifteen seconds.”
Live a little by throwing my inhibitions to the wind, or—
“Ten.”
Screw it.
Taking a deep breath, I undo the button on my pants and lower my zipper. A sexy curve tips his lips. My heart is downright jackhammering in my chest as I kick off my jeans, thanking the stars above that I decided to wear boy shorts and a matching bra instead of a thong. I would’ve been swimming in my clothes.
My hands shake as I reach the hem of my shirt. Another deep breath and I pull it over my head and drop it on top of my pants. I take a few steps and dive in, hurrying to hide my exposed body. The water is cooler than I expected, momentarily shocking me and stealing the air from my lungs. Goosebumps spread over my skin and my nipples instantly pebble and harden.
Ash swims to me. His wet lashes are thick and dark, amplifying his silver-blue eyes. It’s just as much exotic as it is stabilizing. “Talk to me. What are you thinking?’
Do I tell him I’m petrified we’ll be caught? That the adrenaline coursing through me is foreign? Or how his eyes seem to ground me.
“Your eyes are gorgeous,” I brave up and go with the latter.
His panty-melting grin disarms me. He grabs my arm and hauls me against his wet body, guiding my legs to wrap around him. His hands settle on my hips, and my skin lights up at the contact.
“Yeah? Well, they’ve been set on you since the first time I saw you.” Holy swoon. So much passes over his expression—surprise, emotions, fears. He’s staring at me like he’s searching my soul for the answers to what he’s feeling. “I wish I knew what the hell you were doing to me.”
“Why?” My voice is barely a whisper.
“Because it’s out of my control.” He drags the side of his nose along mine.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“I don’t know yet. I’m hoping not.”
He leans in, kissing me. Lazily and lulling, his tongue tangles with mine. I’ve come to crave his kisses, the testing and gentle, the dominating and hard. A guttural rumble breaks from his chest, and like an electric arc, it shoots through us. His hand slides up my side, large fingers wrapping around my ribs and over my shoulders to cup my face. He tilts my head for a different angle and deepens the kiss. It’s demanding. Dominant. Suddenly desperate. A greedy fiery need zips through me, burns down my spine, and funnels into the center of my body.
My core begins to throb. Needing friction, I rock my hips and am met by his hard dick.
Holy shit.
I grip his shoulders, digging my nails into the skin as I writhe. He groans, twisting me and putting my back against the cold pool wall. Lips and teeth drag along my jawline to my neck. I moan as his hands skim up my ribs and cup my breasts, pinching a nipple through the fabric of my bra.
His teeth slide along the tendon on my neck as his touch ignites a blazing fire in my core, dipping lower and lower until I feel fingers move underneath my waist band. I gasp as they slide through my folds and he pushes in, dragging in and out.
I need friction. Him. More of him. I grind against his hand in search of more as my orgasm starts to take hold of my body. It sizzles and crackles just below the surface. He slams his mouth to mine, swallowing my moans. Harder he thrusts his hand, using his knee to push in deeper as he brings me higher…higher…higher. Lifting me until…
“Oh, god.” I fall. Waves of euphoria crash through me, bursting from the inside out. It’s a sensory explosion crackling against every nerve ending.
He’s panting with me when he licks my bottom lip and removes his fingers. “Fuck. That was hot.”
Oh my god. What did I just do?
Mortification feels like lava on my cheeks. I drop my forehead to his shoulder, still breathless, still pulsing, still…everything.
“Ash!” The shout startles me. “If you’re naked, get dressed. You’ve got about five minutes. The boss just pulled into the garage.”
“Shit,” he curses.
He hauls his body out of the water and then grabs my wrists, pulling me out. Quickly, we dry off and frantically get back into clothes. Just as I slide my feet into my flats, he clutches my hand and tows me out of the room, back down the hallway, and past the front desk, slipping his friend the card out of sight.
We don’t stop until we’re both sitting in his truck trying to catch our breaths. That’s the exact moment reality decides to remind of what we just did and burn me with embarrassment again. I hang my head.
Using his thumb and forefinger, Ash grips my chin and lifts my face. He presses a hard, chaste kiss to my mouth and then drops his forehead to mine. “That was the hottest fucking thing…”
It’s something I don’t do. Ever. I don’t reply. Instead, I close my eyes, hiding from the intensity in his and keeping my thoughts to myself.
Chapter Sixteen
“Tonight. You. Me. Wine. And the details of your date.” Lucia waggles her brows as she hits the call button for the elevator.
“You’re really not—”
“Lucia!” We glance behind us to see Soraya, the wife of the smoking hot founder of Morgan Financial Holdings, walking toward us. Her hair is down, her smile is wide. “Did you ever go see Tig?”
Tattoos make Lucia beam. She stretches out her arm to show off the added ink. “I did.”
“That looks like Ash’s work. Did he do it?”
Hearing his name, my heart does some weird somersault.
We climb onto the elevator and move to the back as other people also get on. “Yeah. When I called, Tig wasn’t there so I talked to Ash and he squeezed me in. I’ve got one more session for the final sugar skull here.” She twists her arm and taps just on the inside of her bicep. “Saved the worst pain for last.”
Soraya smiles as she nods her head in understanding. “He does amazing work. Not saying Tig doesn’t, but Ash brings something new and fresh to the shop. Helps he’s a hottie too.” She leans in closer and whispers, “Don’t tell Tig or my husband I said that. I’ll deny it to the grave.”
Lucia’s eyes slide to me, but she says nothing as the doors open to Soraya’s husband’s office floor. “I can’t wait to see the finished product.” She gives a small wave and then disappears around the corner.
My thoughts wrap around Ash and all the frightening things he makes me feel. Being around him, I feel alive. Invigorated. My heart has put in extra time with the flutters, the squeezes, and the heartbeats that take off like a runaway train. My mind is on overtime and stupid me can picture more with him. Which is why I need to rein it in.
He’s new—something fun and shiny—but that newness will wear off. For both of us. And once it does, once he takes off the fresh-colored rose glasses, he’ll leave. I’m not his type. He lives life outside of the lines and I’m content staying within the safety of them. He likes the edge and I stay as far away as possible. When
he realizes I’m the settling down type, he’ll hightail it out. It—I—won’t be good enough for him to stick around.
My mother started the domino effect. Everyone I’ve loved or tried to, except Dad, has followed the fall and leaves, hurt and deceit left in their wake.
I’m working on a mockup when my phone vibrates on my desk.
Ash: I’ve got your picture. Can I bring it by after work?
Is it strange I can hear his voice through text like he’s standing in front of me? Even with my worries, I can’t help but grin.
Me: Yes. I’ll be home around six.
Ash: See you then.
Lucia leans over closer to me. “If your smile gets any goofier, you’ll have people thinking you’re playing with yourself under the table.”
I half snort a laugh and roll my eyes. “No one would think that. I’m looking at my phone on my desk.”
She shrugs, lifting a brow. “Maybe. Maybe not. But it’s not too often you look like you’re in love.”
Love?
Love!
That wipes the smile right off my face. “I don’t even know him well enough to love him.”
“But you want to,” she sing-songs. With that, she straightens and goes back to work on her part of the project.
She’s delusional. Her coffee must’ve had an extra espresso shot because she’s way off base. Do I like him? Yes. Do I want to love him? No. I’m not stupid enough to think he’d want to be with only me and wouldn’t break my heart, leaving it in pieces. Then why does thinking of him with someone else hurt?
The moment we enter our apartment, Lucia drops her purse on the couch as she passes it heading for the kitchen. She grabs two wine glasses and fills them up.
“I’ve been very patient.” She eyes me as she hands it over. “I need details. All of them.”
Our date has been on repeat in my thoughts. The painting he made. The orgasm he gave. I take a huge gulp of wine. “He took me to a place and we did graffiti on sheets. I made Danger Mouse because it’s the only thing I know how to freehand. But his? Luc…his was beautiful. He painted me. It felt like I was looking in a mirror. It was incredible. He’s bringing it over tonight. I can’t wait for you to see it. Anyway, after that he took me swimming.”
