by TC Matson
Suspicion weighs heavily on her expression. “But you didn’t wear a bathing suit…”
I sink my teeth into my lip and smile. “Bra and panties dub as a bikini, right?”
Her face lights up. Wide smile and eyes. “Girl! Did you…”
She lets the question dangle in the air like a carrot. I shake my head. “We didn’t, but we…” Ah! “We fooled around.”
“What kind of fooling around?”
The timing of the knock on the door couldn’t be any better. My cheeks are already hot. We share a lot, but I’m more timid than her brash nature. My details are limited where hers are descriptive, and she’ll want all the details…All.
“That’s him now,” I say, standing.
The white fabric is folded and draping across his arms. I feel nervous as I open the door. “Hi.”
One word and those damn butterflies flurry in my stomach. “Hey.”
He strides into my apartment like he owns the place and sits on the stool at the kitchen counter, setting the cloth down. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small container of push pins. “A deal’s a deal.” The mischievous glint in his eyes coupled with the confident smile has my panties bursting.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I cock my head to the side and narrow my view. “Did you really hang yours.”
“I did.”
“Where?”
His tongue peeks out and swipes across his bottom lip. “In my room. Just like I said I would.”
“You put Danger Mouse on your wall in your room?” I don’t believe him.
He chuckles.
Lucia points to the fabric. “Is that the graffiti painting I’ve heard so much about?”
“Hope it’s been all good.” I watch as Ash’s eyes immediately travel to her half-sleeve and a fit of jealousy and unease burns me. Are tattoos something he needs on a woman?
“Oh, it’s been all good.” Insert face-palm here. He has to know I spilled the details about the rest of the date by the way she croons. Great. “I want to see it.”
Ash’s silvery-blues hit me. “You going to keep your end of the bargain and hang it up?”
“Ummm…” Why is this awkward? “Yeah. Guess the same place you put yours.”
The grin that slices across his face says I’m in for a surprise. It’s playfully sinister. “I’ll follow you.”
Normally when a man follows me to my room, we’re focused on one thing. By then all self-consciousness is out the window—not that I’ve had a long line. But leading Ash down the hallway, my mind is scrambling.
My room is my safe place, my sanctuary when I need to take a breather from life. But as Ash scans the room, I feel downright nervous. He takes it all in—the black dresser, the white and gray chevron rug, the light gray walls, the teal focal wall behind my bed, and then my queen-sized bed. Something flares in his eyes, but as soon as it appears, he blinks it away and tips his chin to me.
“Lucia and I will hold it up. You hop up on your bed and push the pins.”
Confusion mars my expression. “Wait. What?”
He chuckles under his breath, handing Lucia a corner. “You said same place as mine. So over the bed.”
I don’t know how to feel about that. A sensation warms me—awed that he put my painting over his bed and horrified he’s telling me the truth. He doesn’t give me much time to decipher the feelings. He stretches up and although Lucia is tall, she’s not six feet tall, and she’s forced to put her knees on the edge of my night stand to reach his height.
After the final pin, I step off the bed as Lucia moves beside me to get a good look at it. She sucks in a breath, reverence and a swoon swirling in her expression. Reaching up, she touches her heart. “Holy shit, Lyn.”
It looked incredible when I first saw it, but here in my room, above my bed against the teal and lights, it’s…it’s…wow. Vivid yet heartbreaking. In the painting, my colors are bold and pop off the sheet. The lines are more precise, more thought about, more purposeful. Every strand of my hair seems to float off the canvas. He even managed to capture the swirl of amber and honey in my irises.
Where I’m color, “he” and the curtain he’s pulling back are colorless. You bring light into my dark world.
I can feel Ash’s gaze on me and when I peer at him, one side of his mouth is pulled into a lopsided smirk.
“Dude.” Lucia breathes. “You’re talented as hell. How’d you learn this? Did you grow up tagging walls?” Her eyes flash. “I didn’t mean…” She shakes her head. “Not that you were trouble, just…”
“Practice,” he replies.
Lucia stares at the art, rocking back on her heels with thoughts creasing her brows. “You know. There’s a gala a few months away. Promise Hope. They have a silent auction where the proceeds go toward a good cause. You could draw, paint, or whatever you prefer, but you should totally do something.”
“It raises money for kids in need. Most of them are in the system living in foster care or are struggling to get adapted to their adopting families,” I elaborate. “A lot of the families don’t have the resources, transportation, or help easily available. The funds raised help ease the burden and are spread among different areas like therapy to help keep it free, mentoring programs that rely on volunteers, housing needs, and even scholarships. Graffix is one of the largest sponsors and donates a huge portion.”
Ash’s left brow raises as compassion passes over his face. “I know about Promise Hope. They do a lot for the kids in the city. I’ve actually already donated a few things to go toward the auction.”
Be still my heart. A man who cares. Thank you, God.
I smile, but Lucia talks. “That’s great. With pieces like this,” she points to my new art, “you’ll bring in a lot more money.” She looks to me. “I’m heading out to meet up with a friend. Don’t wait up.”
Ash looks large in my small room—confident and dominating the area within my four walls. Where I bring light into his world, he brings an edginess to my poise. My body is conscious there’s a bed between us and when the front door shuts, it becomes hyperaware we’re alone now.
“Are you hungry?” I hate that I squeak and show off how my nerves are rattled.
He moves toward me and my heart begins to slam against my chest. I’m not afraid. I know he wouldn’t physically harm me. But the heat that’s beginning to lick through me, limb for limb worries me.
“Get out of your head, Kenlyn.” He cups my cheek, brushing his thumb over my skin. “Nothing happens if you don’t want it to.”
I swallow my sigh and flip my gaze up to his. “I love my painting.”
“I’m glad,” he whispers, brushing his lips against mine.
The kiss starts off gentle—teasing and slow. His tongue slips past my lips and sweeps across mine. The electricity begins to crackle and a small moan escapes me as I snake my hands around his neck. Gripping my hips, he pulls me closer. The heat from his body, the lust and desire he provokes, cause my body to ignite. I lose myself in him. The way he tastes, the scent of his cologne, him.
A pained groan rips from the back of his throat and echoes in the quiet room before he pulls back. “Yes.” The word is strained and thick.
“Yes?”
“Food. I’m hungry.”
And all the desire disintegrates. “Oh. Yeah. Okay.” I stammer, jerking my hands away from him and taking a step back. “I, um…” I look at everything but him, too mortified to see what’s in his eyes.
He lifts my chin, forcing me to see him. “When we cross that line, there’ll be no hesitation in you and you won’t be caught up in whatever’s going on in your mind.” When, not if. He holds my gaze. “That is the only reason I’m stopping.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Yes, it does.” I laugh at Ash’s horrified expression.
He shakes his head, looking at the half-eaten bland pepperoni pizza on his plate. “You were beautiful until you said pineapple belongs on pizza. Now you have nothing but your
nose going for you.”
“How can you make a decision based on judgment alone? You’ve never even tried it.” I push my plate with a piece of pepperoni and pineapple pizza toward where he sits on the floor with his back against the sofa. This has been an ongoing argument since I ordered. “You’re only saying it because you love meat and hate produce.” I crack up as he pretends I’m not there and stares at the TV. I move the plate up and down. “Eat meeee.”
I’m still not here.
“You’ve got me watching The Karate Kid for the hundredth time in my life. The least you can do is try a piece of the best pizza you’ll ever taste,” I tease.
“I can’t help you’re the only people in America who don’t have Netflix and we have to settle for what’s on TV,” he retorts with humor but still doesn’t look my way.
“Scaredy cat,” I snort.
This gets his attention. He whips his head toward me. “I know you didn’t just say that.”
“Yep.” I bite my cheek.
“I’ll ha—”
I snatch a piece of pineapple from my pizza and shove it in his mouth. Like the cocky ass he is, he begins to chew without taking his gaze off mine.
“Not so bad, is it?” I ask, moving my plate to the table.
“You’ve ruined pizza for me.” He puts his plate next to mine and wipes his mouth.
The seriousness overlapping the playfulness on his face causes me to cackle. He’s trying so hard not to laugh, not to crack a smile…
“Not even your nose does it for me anymore. It’s down to the freckle on the side of your neck now,” he teases, and I laugh harder.
Snatching my wrist, he yanks me down so I’m lying on his lap. “You’re gorgeous when you laugh.” His tone sobers up as he stares down at me. “You need to do that more often. Helps you when your pineapple obsession tarnishes your beauty.”
I titter, but it gets sucked away when he bends, simultaneously lifting me halfway, and kisses me. Gone are my worries. Gone is my laughter. My pulse hums in my ears. His tongue licks across mine. His fingers flex between my shoulder blades. Gone is me.
I drag my hand over the stubble on his cheek and up his head, sinking my fingers into his hair. There’s a hint of hunger in the kiss, but it’s tentative like he’s expecting me to stop it. That’s not happening this time. I want more. Scratch that. I need more.
Shifting, I move to straddle him while I keep our mouths fused together and my fingers still in his hair. Our breaths fall in sync and my hips rock involuntarily seeking out friction.
I might have taken the control, but he makes it clear he’s in charge by digging his fingers into my hip and guiding me against the bulge in his jeans. The kiss turns more intense, greedier. With a tug of my hair, he moves my head for a better angle, tracing his teeth over my skin and biting the crook of my neck. My gasp turns into a sigh when he eases the sting with a heavy lick.
I ache to feel him. All of him. I slip my hands under his shirt, smoothing them over his skin. He leans forward, reaches behind him, and tugs his shirt off. I take a second to admire the tattoos that decorate his smooth tanned skin across his chest. He’s hot and sexy, edgy and bad boy.
His eyes latch on to mine as he runs his hands up my sides under my blouse. His eyes darken with greed as he tosses my shirt beside us. My nipples are hard, pressing against the black lace and aching to be touched. He doesn’t make me wait long before he cups my breasts, giving them a squeeze, and tugs down the fabric. My thighs clench as he sucks a nipple into his mouth and swirls his tongue. Warmth ignites into a searing blaze. My clit pulses with each flick of his tongue. My head falls back and I sigh toward the ceiling, bearing down to grind hard against him.
Suddenly, he wraps an arm around my waist and stands with ease, moving us down the hallway and into my bedroom. Lowering my feet to the floor, my body drags down his front and sensations jolt through me at the friction. His eyes pierce mine. My chest heaves as lust and anticipation immerse me. The energy between us sizzles as I burn with need.
Reaching behind me, he unsnaps my bra and releases it, allowing it to fall off my shoulders and to the floor. He licks his lips and I feel it in the ache between my thighs. Splaying his hands over my hips, he tucks his thumbs under my waistband and drags my pants and underwear down my legs, squatting as he lowers them to my feet.
His silvery-blues blaze darkly. “Fuck…” he murmurs and then, with a heavy tongue, licks between my folds.
I gasp toward the ceiling, threading my fingers through his hair. The sounds I make are needy and desperate. He applies perfect pressure as he sucks on my clit, swirling and flicking. It’s been so long since I’ve experienced foreplay. Jason was the type of man who felt like it was a chore. But Ash? He’s devouring me like I’m his last meal. And it’s amazing.
He drags his tongue from my clit, up my stomach, between my breasts, across my chin, and finally collides with my lips. I fumble at his pants, blindly trying to get his belt off, unfasten the button, and rip the zipper down. He lowers me to the bed with a kiss, and scoots me up to the center, somehow losing his pants in the process. Not that I’m complaining, not now that I can feel the weight of his dick so close to where I need it. Pushing up to his knees, he opens his wallet and pulls out a pair of condoms. He grasps the base of his dick—his very thick dick—and gives it a few strokes as he tears open the foil with his teeth. After he rolls one of the condoms on, he leans down onto his forearm and positions his dick at my entrance.
“You good?” he asks, pausing.
I love the fact he’s taking the time to make sure I haven’t had a change of heart. I swallow my nerves and flip my gaze to his. “Yes.”
A small tic in his lips is the last thing I see as he pushes forward and my eyes roll closed. As he eases in, inch by inch, my body expands to make room for him.
“Oh my god…” I breathe as tendrils of heat track their way through my body.
He hisses when he buries himself to the hilt and then rolls his hips. I grip the sheets to anchor myself with one hand, the other raking my nails down his back.
Ho-ly-shit…
He’s slow at first, easing out and pushing in. It’s a delicate rhythm and I know it’s for me to accommodate him, but I’m certain I’ll feel him for days. He’s definitely bigger than I’m used to, even my vibrating boyfriends.
Opening my eyes, I’m swallowed by what I see. He’s trained on my face, jaw tight, and his lips parted as a low groan leaves him. It feels intensely intimate, but I can’t look away. The pace picks up. His thrusts are no longer slow and easy. They come harder, faster. Greedier. And it feels incredible. So good. Soooo freaking good. Pressure begins to build as he grinds in and drives in with long strokes hitting the spot.
A spiral of euphoria descends from the top of my scalp down to my toes, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Snaking his fingers around my hip, he adjusts me—lifting me slightly—and the angle unravels me. Time slows. My eyes squeeze shut. My head pushes back into the mattress, and I dissolve under him.
He reaches under my knee and lifts it, delivering viciously delicious thrusts as my orgasm splinters me. Grinding. Rocking. He elicits the most powerful orgasm. I can feel him swelling inside of me. The sexiest groan tears from deep within his chest. My leg slides up to his bicep as he grips my shoulder to haul me down, forcing him deeper.
“Shit,” he hisses. “Fuck.”
His body goes rigid, his rhythm falters until he pushes in one last time and groans between clenched teeth. Everything’s hazy. He feathers kisses along my jaw, across my cheek. Our breaths are ragged. We’re covered in a sheen a sweat. And I feel sated in such a way I think I could hibernate for three days.
“That was incredible.”
Eyes closed and unable to move a limb, I somehow manage a lazy smile and a hum. He chuckles, kissing me one last time before he slips out of me, leaving an emptiness I don’t like and disappearing off the bed.
Now that I’m not high from the magnificent sex, I
’m suddenly aware I’m lying naked in my bed with a man whose body belongs in a museum. Worst of all, thoughts of a future start filtering through. See? My heart is attached to my vagina.
I’m about to put my shirt on when he exits my bathroom. “Oh no you don’t.” He crosses the room in a rush and yanks it out of my hands. In one movement, he wraps an arm around me, twists, and falls to the bed with me landing on top of him. “We’re not done. Not by a long shot.”
My brows raise. I can still feel him between my legs and he’s saying we’re not done. Is that even possible?
With a small chuckle, he brushes the curtain of hair that’s fallen around my face to the back of my head. I’m on my back in a flash with him settled between my legs again. “I was impatient to feel you. Now I need to take my time and worship you.”
And worship he does… With two more orgasms by mouth and fingers, the last one is so mind-bending and earth-shattering I’ll forever be ruined for anyone else. Hell if I’ll ever find a man to live up to him.
Chapter Eighteen
“What’s your story this week?” As usual, Ollie calls out over the class.
“Finished a six-part biomechanical on this guy. Basically, a robotic back tearing out with flesh pulling apart. Shading and colors. Always fun.”
“Sic!” Ollie practically bounces in his seat.
“You have any hotties come in?” Jody asks. “I like hearing about them.”
I bet.
“You shouldn’t be thinking about females at fifteen.” I’m a hypocrite. Once I figured out tits and ass and lips got my dick hard, they were all I could think about. “They’re nothing but trouble.”
“Yeah?” he challenges, leaning back in his chair. “If they’re trouble then I want to stay in it.”
“Yo,” Shawn interrupts. “But I heard you got a girl now. Heard she was hot as fuck.” He tips his chin with a smug smirk on his lips.
