Then Kiss Me

by Jade C. Jamison

  An embarrassed lopsided grin sprang up on my face. “Thanks.” He turned back around, moving a few feet to look at the big painting over the couch. I said, “There’s no money in it, though, and I’m one of thousands of starving artists.”

  He shook his head but his eyes stayed on the canvas. “Don’t dismiss it, Casey. This is good shit.”

  I’d had enough admiration for the time being and grabbed his hand. “Come on.” I took him into the studio. Once there, he looked around at all the sketches and paintings, finished and unfinished, around the room. I smiled, because I could tell he hadn’t just been saying that in the living room. He really did like my art. So I showed him the oil painting that I’d been working on earlier, resting on the easel. “This is what I was working on today.”

  He studied it, shaking his head. “Wow.”

  Okay…I’d had enough. “You’re drunk. You’re just saying that.” He examined me, knitting his brows and frowning, but he didn’t say anything. “Sit over here,” I said, pulling a chair from the wall and placing it in the middle of the room. He sat down, but he continued to look at the walls where I’d taped and tacked dozens of sketches here and there.

  I pulled up my stool a couple of feet away with my sketch pad. I’d decided to just use pencil. I’d considered charcoal and then decided I wanted precision for this drawing. “Just so you know…people aren’t my forte.”

  He grinned. “So what is your forte?”

  I started doing a light outline of him on the page, deciding to draw him from the waist up. I was okay with faces but not close-up portraits. And, like Michelangelo, I tended to enjoy the male form. I smiled, making eye contact. “Weird shit.”

  He nodded. He kept looking at different drawings around the room, and I was sure that took some of the pressure off him from my scrutinizing gaze. I would look at him, then move my eyes to the page to draw a stroke or two, then look back at him. Right now, I was viewing him as an object and trying to get him just right. But when I looked up at him again, he was smiling at me, and I couldn’t help but smile back. I stood, set the sketchpad on the desk behind me, and marched over to him. I grabbed his gray t-shirt at the shoulders by my fingertips and said, “Sorry, but you’ve gotta lose this.” He smirked and the eye contact that time was electric. No...I was going to finish the drawing. After all, I’d promised.

  He took off the shirt, setting it on his lap, and I said, “Much better.”

  Smartass Scott was back. He said, “Why? What’d this shirt ever do to you?”

  I couldn’t stop the smile from forming on my face. “I’d rather draw your chest without your shirt on.” I needed an excuse. “You can’t tell talent by drawing a shirt.” So that was total bullshit. Some of the best drawings I’d ever seen had captured the folds and creases and texture of fabrics in a way I’d never be able to imitate.

  I started to turn back to my stool, but he took my arm gently in his hand. He stood up. “Look, Casey, I’m still not sure what happened last night. All I know is…we’re friends, right, and…there was something…crazy between us the other night at the party. About last night…I told Jim he was way out of line. He ever does anything like that to you again, I’ll beat the shit out of him, and I told him that.”

  Then I felt really guilty. So, before he could finish, I said, “Scott, listen. I’m sorry about what I said last night. I was upset and I lashed out at you. I was out of line too.”

  He looked down at my arm where the red marks had been last night and saw the bruises that had taken their place. “Were you?” He ran his fingers over the marks, acting like he wanted to erase them with a brush of his thumb. “Seeing this, I don’t think you were. Jim can be a fucking asshole sometimes.” I didn’t say anything, but I agreed completely. “And I’m not going to stand here and try to convince you either way about what he said. I know why he said it, but I’m not prepared to explain. Same with Wendy.” He looked up from my arm. “I just want you to know that I don’t intend to share you with Jim.” He shook his head. “That makes it sound like I own you and have any control over that. I didn’t mean it that way.” He frowned. “Fuck…I don’t know why I’m saying any of this.” He looked up from the bruises and into my eyes. “You probably don’t want anything to do with my anymore anyway.” He shook his head.

  The doorbell rang again. What the hell? It was starting to feel like Denver all over again. Unable to resist him, I stroked Scott’s cheek. He had slight stubble and it scratched against my fingers. I said, “I believe you.” His eyes showed relief. “I need to answer the door. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  The doorbell rang again. Someone was impatient. When I got to the door, I pulled it open to David. The rowdy car was again parked on the street in front of my place.

  “Hey, Casey,” David said, acting sheepish. “I came by to see if we needed to pick up Scott now.” He swallowed and grinned. “Sorry…we’ve all been drinking a lot. Has Scott already left, or should I come back later, or—”

  I cut him off. “He’s still here. I’ll give him a ride home.” I just didn’t know when.

  “I was hoping you’d say that. Here’s his jacket.” I opened the screen door, taking Scott’s jean jacket in my hand, and David saw my bare legs. He nodded and smiled. “Have fun, girlfriend.”

  I smiled, feeling playful. “Get the fuck out of here.” David laughed as I shut and locked the door. I placed Scott’s jacket on the couch. Before heading back to the studio, I stopped in the restroom and grabbed a bottle of baby oil. I was ready to heat things up a little bit.

  When I walked back in the studio, Scott asked, “What’s up?”

  I walked over to where he was sitting and said, “David brought your jacket by for you.” I squatted down beside the chair.

  Scott’s eyes were closed and he nodded. “For the long walk home.”

  I let out a breath. “I can drive, you know.”

  He just looked at me and I wondered what he was thinking. But I wasn’t going to ask. I opened the lid on the baby oil and squirted some on my hand.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  I fought to keep my face as straight—and my tone as professional—as possible. “I’m going to put this on your torso. It will help your definition stand out so I don’t have to strain my eyes.” I paused. Was he falling for my line of bullshit? Sure, it would help…a little. But it would be nice rubbing his chest. I wanted to touch him without having to follow through if necessary. But mmmm… “Is that okay?”

  Yeah, he liked the idea too. I could tell by how his eyes softened. “Sure.”

  So I started massaging it into his abs, enjoying feeling that firm musculature again. Goddamn, that boy had a rockin’ hard six-pack, and I hadn’t fully appreciated it the other night. “You work out a lot?”

  “A little.”

  I smiled and started blushing. I concentrated on his skin when I said, “You look good.” What a lame follow up, but I couldn’t think of what to say. I’d embarrassed myself. So I continued rubbing the oil slowly over every inch of abdominal flesh, working up to his chest. I could feel Scott’s eyes burning into me, but I still couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact again. “What we were talking about before… What you’ve done in the past is none of my business. Hell, what you do now is none of my business.” I forced myself to look in his eyes as my hand slowed its movement. “But I do like spending time with you too.” I felt my cheeks grow warm again. “The other night was absolutely incredible.”

  A slow, sly grin spread over his face. “Are you blushing?”

  “I don’t blush.” Okay, so I lied and he knew it. I looked back down at his chest while I rubbed in more oil. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m too forward. Does that bother you?”

  “No. If you weren’t, I might not be sitting here right now.”

  I inhaled sharply. “But maybe—oh, never mind.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” Sweet Jesus…I was falling in love with him. But I couldn’t
let myself do that. Still…my body ached for him all over. Even though I wanted to stop myself falling in love, I wanted him. The physical attraction was way too strong to deny…and I know how I was. Physical intimacy made my emotional attachments stronger. “I mean…I think we’ve got great chemistry, if you know what I’m saying.” I cleared my throat. I could barely believe I was saying all this…and I was completely sober. Yeah, I guess I was pretty forward.

  He leaned forward, gazing in my eyes. He was quiet when he said, “Yeah, I do.”

  My lips collided with his. And what a fucking kiss. He took my hands in his and said, “Why don’t we finish this later?” I swallowed and nodded my head. “Do you care if I wash this off?”

  “No, that’s cool.” I stood up. “Come with me.” I led him to the restroom by the hand and grabbed a towel off the shelf just inside. “Would you rather just take a shower?”

  He nodded and sat on the toilet seat, taking his shoes off while I warmed up the water. “Only if you join me.” I’d been hunched over the tub and looked at him. From where he sat, he was able to take my face in his, and we locked lips. Hardly any time had passed since the first time we’d been together and yet it had felt like forever. His kiss, warm, passionate, and deep, was even better than I’d remembered.

  His hands moved to my neck and I wound my fingers through his hair. His fingertips were hot against my skin as they moved to the buttons on my night shirt. We both stood up. He was undoing my buttons and started kissing my neck. I sucked in a deep breath as my nipples tightened. God…I wanted to fuck him right now. Rubbing that oil on his chest had been nothing but foreplay.

  His shirt was already off…all he had left were his jeans, and since he was taking care of my night shirt, I moved my hands to his zipper. I could already feel how stiff he’d grown, his cock straining against the denim, waiting to be set free. But I could barely concentrate on him as his hand moved to cup a breast under the night shirt. The other hand continued moving down the shirt, undoing the buttons. He couldn’t have been that drunk, not to be able to pay that much attention to detail. And while I could taste traces of alcohol, they weren’t strong.

  I slid my hand underneath his boxers to feel him while he switched back to using two hands to unbutton my shirt. And then he slid his hands underneath the fabric to cup my ass and pulled me up against him. “Fuckin’ A…you’re not wearing a goddamn thing under this. You’re lucky I didn’t know that earlier, or you wouldn’t have had a chance to start that drawing.”

  His slick chest rubbed up against my nipples, but I giggled and kissed him again, then pulled away to check the water. He took the opportunity to peel his jeans off while I turned the showerhead on and pulled the curtain over so water wouldn’t spray all over the floor. I felt him tugging on my night shirt from behind and I let him pull it off my shoulders and then my arms, and I felt his lips on my shoulder. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation. My breathing was already growing deep and it grew jagged as his hands splayed against my belly and then began traveling up to my breasts. Ah…but not yet.

  I broke away and hopped in the shower. I smiled and then waved him in with my index finger. He got a smirk on his face and tore off his boxers. In just a matter of seconds, he was standing next to me. He pressed up close, the water sprinkling down our sides. I felt it hitting my head, running down my face, getting in my mouth while we kissed. It was a delicious sensation. His cock was pressing into my abdomen, just above my pubic bone, and it made me want to climb up him. The sensation made my head swim and I was crazy with desire. We should slow down, but I didn’t want to.

  His lips were on my neck again and my eyes stayed closed, relishing the sensation. I felt for the soap dish with my hand and found the bar. I swirled it in my hand and then slid it between us, rubbing it up against his chest. He moved his lips to my ear and said, “Just have to get down to business, don’t you?”

  I couldn’t even giggle because his breath in my ear took my desire up another level, and I felt the toes on my left foot curl. I wanted him now and I was trying so hard to be patient. My voice was deep when I said, “You saying you don’t like my hands all over your chest?”

  He kissed my neck just underneath my ear. “No…that’s pretty nice.”

  I pulled back a little and smiled. Must be patient. I worked up a lather on his chest. He didn’t have a lot of hairs there, but there were enough to make him seem ultra-masculine, and I was swirling them around with the soap. Scott tilted his head toward the spray and got the other side of his hair wet while I concentrated on his body. Jesus, it was near perfection. Michelangelo would have used him as a model if Scott had been alive during the Renaissance. Luckily for me, though, he was all mine.

  He took the soap from me and turned it on its side to trace a pattern between my breasts and on my stomach. I stood on my tiptoes and started kissing him again, thrusting my tongue in his mouth. I was ready to be ravished by him…no more teasing. But he ended the kiss and, with a wicked grin on his face, he moved and turned me to face the water spray. It was falling on my right shoulder and face, and I turned my head to the side so the water would fall on my hair instead of in my eyes. Meanwhile, Scott started rubbing the soap up against my back and my ass. He wasn’t touching anything on me that was on fire, but he was heating up everything with his touch so that all my flesh was hypersensitive. He put the soap away but continued rubbing my back. Then he slid his hands around to the front and pulled me close. His hard on was digging into my back, but my concentration was focused on his hands. Those hands were moving up my belly and then cupping my breasts. I leaned my head back onto his chest and then his lips were assaulting my neck too. He began teasing my nipples with his fingers and I gasped, ready, so ready. The soap had already rinsed off, but the friction of wet skin on skin was pleasant. My arms were up over my head, my fingers wound through his wet hair, giving him access to anything he wanted. “Mmmm.”

  I heard him say in my ear, “God, you are so fucking hot.”

  Only because Scott had gotten me there. Even my sexual self was a smartass, but that thought quickly drifted off as his right hand slid back down my belly toward my pussy. And within seconds, I felt his fingers on my clitoris, already swollen, already primed to deliver a rockin’ orgasm. He swirled his fingers around and my breath grew jagged. I wanted to turn around and demand that he fuck me properly, but his fingers felt too right. I didn’t want him to stop. “Oh…” My vocal chords gave me away as my body built up to a climax and my fingers clenched against his head as I hit the top. I moaned and breathed his name as wave after wave washed over me, making me feel whole.

  But I wanted more, so much more. As I regained my senses, I placed my hands on the tiles in front of me, just below the showerhead. I turned my head around, trying to make eye contact with him. “Fuck me, Scott.”

  And then I saw his eyes. They were dark, primal, and he wanted me. But he was hesitant. “Not here…I don’t have a condom.”

  He didn’t have to worry about that, but I wasn’t going to go into any explanations here and now, not when I just wanted him to take me. I thrust my ass out backwards, bending over farther, placing my hand on my hip, my fingertips sliding down my ass cheek. “Please, Scott…it’s okay. Just…just pull out when you come, okay?”

  He was torn. Yes, I know it was stupid. I wasn’t worried about getting pregnant, and I’d explain it to him later, but I know we hadn’t had any discussions on the state of our sexual health. Still, I’d seen his penis enough to know everything looked okay…and I knew I was fine. Yes, stupid. I know. But I was like an animal at that moment. I wanted to feel him inside me again now, and I knew he wanted it too. And I saw how his eyes changed when he made up his mind that he did want to have me right then and there, consequences be damned.

  So his slid his hands from my waist and grabbed me around the hips as he pulled me close and maneuvered himself inside. I cried out as he filled me up. Yes…this is what I wanted and he was delivering it. My orgasm too
k up where it had left off and I moaned again, my fingers curling against the wet tile as he pummeled into me, a delicious sensation. “Mmm, God…” I finally felt myself coming down off my high and just in time. Scott pulled out and pulled me back up against his body. I could feel his cock on my back, and it throbbed once, twice, three times, releasing his seed against my lower back. One hand was holding my arm, but his other arm was wrapped around my waist, and in that moment, I felt as though I belonged to him fully. I was his and he was mine, and something in me told me he felt the same way.

  Chapter Twelve

  SCOTT WASN’T GOING to be a little shit like I’d been a couple of nights ago and leave once I’d fallen asleep. For starters, he was already drifting off as my head rested against his chest in my bed. And even if he’d wanted to leave, he’d have to walk a mile or so to get home…or call for someone to come pick him up. But he seemed content to stay.

  And, since I’d allowed myself to fall in love with him completely, he might as well.

  I’d already known in the part of my head I try to hide from that I was in love, but now I was allowing myself to admit it. It was the sex that had cemented it. It had happened to me before…where I’d liked a guy hardcore. That’s a dangerous time to have sex if you’re trying to avoid commitment. Well, there was nothing I could do to stop it now. I drifted off in his arms, feeling content. But I woke up a short while later, unable to sleep, just thinking about all that had happened since I’d come to Winchester.

  I got up and walked to the studio. I grabbed the sketchpad that had the drawing I’d started of Scott. I decided to finish the drawing from memory. His face was emblazoned in my head, so I knew I could do it. First, though, I picked up his shirt off the chair and held it to my face. I could smell him and it made me feel warm, so I slid it over my head, and I could almost imagine him holding me.

  I worked for some time to get the details just right…the twinkle in his eye you could see from yards away, the curvature of his sexy jaw, his pecs and abs that I could now draw from sense memory after feeling them for so long earlier.