Warm, supple, and sweet. His lips brushed mine before he sucked in my bottom lip and ran his tongue along the sensitive tissue. That was as far as it got before I gripped his neck and pulled him further into me. My fingers tunneled into his hair. When I encountered a hair tie, that just wouldn’t do. I pulled on that tie until it snapped and lemon-scented, thick hair tumbled in waves against my cheeks, shrouding our kiss in the haven of his luscious locks. Alec cupped my chin and turned my head to the side, sliding his tongue in and out, learning what made me tick, moan, and bite. And I did. Bite that is. I nipped at his lips like a starving animal would a steak. He didn’t seem to mind. At one point, I was pretty certain he growled—yes, growled—into the kiss taking it impossibly deeper.
Excitement roared through my body, and I tensed, wanting to bring Alec closer, needing him to be. As I was trying to lean back on the couch so he could get on top of me, he pulled back. His forehead rested against mine. “Très jolie fille,” he whispered in the language that was quickly becoming a major turn-on. Not that it wasn’t before, but after having his lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth, his words caressed along my senses as easily as I imagined his touch would. With purpose, with desire, with lust.
“Calm chérie.” His tone was a murmur and a balm over the heat burning inside. “There would be plenty of time for us to know each other physically. I want to enjoy you, anticipate your sweet taste on my tongue, your smooth skin along the pads of my fingers, your body on my canvas.”
I pulled back and our gazes held. “Wow.” I bit my lip and swallowed. He grinned.
“I do believe ‘wow’ is an understatement. Let’s eat. Get to know one another on all levels. Only then will the physical manifestation of our joining be as sweet.
Alec Dubois was bizarre. Who the hell even talks like that? ‘A physical manifestation of our joining?’ He may have spent too much time reading Ask Jeeves online.
“You’re a weird guy,” I said before grabbing my plate, setting it on my lap and shoveling in a giant bite of noodles. Pure heaven! Almost as good as the kiss we’d shared moments ago.
Alec tipped his head back and burst into laughter. See, totally weird dude.
He grabbed his plate, loaded it up and leaned back, set his feet next to mine on the ottoman, turned his head to the side and looked at me. “Oh my sweet, you have no idea, but soon you will. Let’s eat.”
Chapter 2
That evening, after being filled to the brim with the best Chinese food I’d ever had, Alex carried me up to the loft and settled me on his bed. He didn’t have another room in the converted warehouse as far as I could tell. Regardless, he didn’t assume we’d be sleeping together, even after our kiss. All of which I was grateful for. I needed the evening to find myself in this new world.
It was difficult for me no longer being in Wes’s Malibu home hidden away in the hillside and snug as a bug in a rug in my bed of clouds. No, I was deposited onto a firm, but comfortable, king size bed and surrounded by cool tones and textures. Soft blue, Heather grey, and a few midnight tones interspersed. The bed sat on a small platform with a solid wood headboard no footboard but plenty of pillows to allow the user maximum relaxation. There were very few pieces of furniture in the space. A sleek, boxy five-drawer dresser, two minimalistic nightstands, one with a lamp, the other with a stack of books. I scanned the titles and noted several of them were in French. A few even had library seals with numbers that denoted an indexing system. I guess Frenchie liked to read and had a library card. Something about that made me smile on the inside as much as the outside.
So far, Alec had been mostly a gentleman. He’d not sent me packing when I twisted my ankle and had been very doting since dinner last night. Even though he had a distracted air about him, when he focused on me, really looked at me, he gave me everything. A girl could get used to being looked at as if the world around her had stopped moving. Then of course, there was that kiss. Shivers of excitement tingled down my spine remembering those warm lips. His tongue, knowing exactly how to tickle and taste, was a nice surprise. The fact that he kissed me at all was a surprise but not by much. I mean, the guy spent a lot of time in my space. He’d touched me more in one day than pretty much anyone ever did in a day, including Wes, and I know Wes really liked touching me.
Wes.
Nope, not gonna let myself go down that path. We agreed to be friends and move on from here. He knows I need to do what I need to do to save my dad, and I won’t be doing it while abstaining. That’s just not me. Once I’d gotten a taste of that heat, the passion like Wes gave to me—I craved it. Needed it. Felt bereft without it. My guess is it’s like ripping off a Band-Aid, howl in pain for a few seconds and it’s done. Ready to hop on a new cowboy and ride, so to speak. And that’s exactly what I planned to do. There’s chemistry between Alec and me, that’s for certain. Based on that kiss alone, he’d be good in bed, and the way he spoke, it was a given in his mind as well. Time to have fun. Enjoy myself.
At some point in the night, Alec placed my crutches on the wall near the bed. I looked around then hopped to the clothes in the small closet. All men’s clothes hung on the hangers. Nothing frilly, girly or pink in sight. Huh. Part of my contract was to provide me with the appropriate clothing needed for the month’s stay. Wonder where he put all my stuff? I opened each dresser drawer methodically, scanning the contents. Men’s boxer briefs, socks, pajama pants, t-shirts and jeans. Nothing for me.
My suitcase was also delivered sometime in the evening, so I pulled out a pair of clean jeans and a Radiohead concert tee. Thinking back, Ginelle and I had rocked out so hard and screamed so loud at that concert we couldn’t speak the next day. We didn’t care, Tom York was crazy talented and when a band like Radiohead comes to Vegas, I did whatever it took to get tickets.
Once I got dressed, I put on one sneaker and left the other foot wrapped and socked for the day. At the top of the stairs, I sat on my ass, let my crutches slide down the stairs and used the strength in my arms and my bum to get down the stairs without hurting my foot. I felt damned good about the process.
“Hey! I would have helped you down ma jolie.” Alec came around the kitchen bar and over to me. My mouth dropped wide open. Alec was wearing loose plaid pajama bottoms and nothing else. His chest was golden, ripped, and on full display. A veritable feast for the eyes. His hair was long, wavy and came down to his shoulders. The colors were mesmerizing hues of brown, russet and gold. He walked over to me as if in slow motion. The muscles of his abdomen bunched as he leaned down to help get me settled with my crutches. I placed a hand around his waist and felt nothing but sinewy muscle.
Sweet Mother of God I was in so much trouble.
He helped me get settled with my crutches and led me to a barstool in the kitchen. Once I was seated, he turned around, and I couldn’t contain the burst of air that left my lungs. Alec turned to the side and his eyes caught what I was staring at, positively drooling over. On the left side of his back from his shoulder blade and curling around his ribcage was a giant black tattoo. It was a swirl of words written in French.
“Your tattoo...it’s...” I stared in awe at a loss for words. “It’s…beautiful,” I finally finished. Alec went to the stove, and in a cool trick move, cracked two eggs with one hand into a frying pan. For a moment, I wondered if I could get him to teach me how to do it before our month was up.
“Merci,” he answered cracking another couple eggs into the pan. Next to the eggs he plopped several strips of bacon into another frying pan. Instantly the bacon started popping and sizzling.
“What does it say?”
He pushed a stray lock of hair behind his ear and moved about his kitchen half naked very much at ease. I watched his body move as he reached for a ceramic, multicolored mug hanging from a hook then filled it with coffee. “It’s a poem from Jacques Prévert a French writer. He wrote it in 1966.” Alec pointed to the coffee in front of him. “Cream or sugar?”
“Both please,” I responded. He finished
up my cup, set it in front of me, then went back, flipped the eggs and turned the bacon.
“Do you mind me asking what the poem says?” I sipped my coffee trying to hide behind the large mug.
He licked his lips, leaned against the side of the counter and crossed his bare feet at the ankles. Jesus the man was fine. Wes was good looking but this man is no slouch. The two were polar opposites. Where Wes was light, Alec is dark and vice versa. They seemed to have the exact opposites in every aspect, right down to Alec’s dark hair, mustache and beard to Wes’s clean shaven yet sometimes scruffy chin.
“It’s most of a poem about people viewing Witold’s paintings. Roughly it translates to:
The mystery of everyday people
Painted with love in the furtive silence
And the obsessive noise of the street.
You follow their progress,
But you have only the back view of them, and like them,
You will give a back view to other visitors
Who will take your place in front of the paintings.
“It reminds me that many will look at my art, the images I capture or paint, and sometimes, part of the experience will be when another person captures that person viewing my art. It changes what they see. So now, the art is viewed in a way that the person standing in front of it, becomes part of it.”
I thought on what he said for a moment. “That’s deep.”
Alec shook his head and smiled, then slid the eggs and bacon onto plates. He set one in front of me. “Eat up, ma jolie. We have a full day in the loft ahead of us.”
“Speaking of full days, where are my clothes?” I asked around a mouth full of eggs.
He leaned over the opposite side of the island and bit into a slice of bacon. His eyebrows furrowed. “What clothes?”
“The clothes.” I flailed a hand into the air. “You know, whatever you want me to wear while I’m here. That’s supposed to be provided…” I let the rest just fall off. It made me uncomfortable talking about our contract.
Alec grinned a full cat-that-ate-the-canary grin, then set his hands wide on to the counter leaning closer to me. “Ma jolie, there aren’t clothes for you to wear because I don’t plan on having you wear anything while you’re here. You are my muse, and I want to see your body, curves and angles as much as humanly possible.”
I blinked, opened my mouth, closed it, then blinked again. He couldn’t be serious. “You want me to walk around naked? All the time?”
“Oui,” he stated plainly as if the question didn’t hold the entire weight of the world on it like it did for me.
“‘Oui?’ That’s all you got for me?” I set down my fork and it clanged loudly against the plate. “You think I’m going to walk around here,” again the arms went flying, “without so much as a stitch of clothing on?”
Alec’s eyebrows narrowed once more. “Are you uncomfortable with your body, ma jolie?”
“Fuck. I cannot believe this!” I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. “No, I’m not uncomfortable with my body, well, not really. I could do to lose a few pounds, but I don’t know one person who’s comfortable walking around in their birthday suit all day long.”
“Hmm, this poses a slight problem then. I am certain we’ll work through this. Finish up your breakfast, we need to get to the loft. I need to do some stills of you before the light changes and then start with the paint.” He shoved the last bite of his breakfast into his mouth while walking over to the sink. He rinsed his plate and set the dish in the dishwasher. “I shall get ready. We’ll discuss more later, oui?”
“Oui,” I said with a purpose-based sarcastic tone. He shook his head and rushed up the stairs. In a flash, he’d grabbed whatever clothing he intended to wear and headed to the bathroom. Seconds later, I could hear the shower going and the old pipes of the warehouse working overtime.
He wanted me naked all the time. Just like I thought, bizarre dude. I rolled my eyes and clenched my teeth. He didn’t really answer me, just said we had a problem, effectively changed the subject, then bailed. Day two was not looking any better than day one. Well, I did get to see his beautiful body half-naked. That was pleasant and definitely edged day two over day one’s falling and embarrassing episode. Even though last night’s kiss could go to war against today’s annoying I-want-you-naked-at-all-times load of crap, I did not plan to walk around naked. That was in no way part of my contract or anything else I’d agreed to. I’d read through that contract on the plane and nowhere in there did it say, ‘Mia willfully agrees to run around stark naked for a month.’ Lunatic!
***
After breakfast, Alec led me back down to the lower level workspace. “So you own both floors then?” I asked while following him through the workspace. Surprisingly enough, there were only a couple people milling about and it was eight in the morning. Maybe they didn’t work a standard eight to five job.
“Yes, this is my work space; the other, as you know, is my home. I like to be close to my home. Sometimes I work well into the night and morning. When I want to end my day, I don’t want to have to drive across town to do it. This way I’m just a short elevator ride up.”
I nodded. “Makes sense. Where is everyone?” I slumped into the chair he pushed out in front of me. Before us, about ten feet away, was a brightly lit area and two blank canvases hanging on the wall. One was about six feet wide by four feet tall. The other was a good six feet tall and four feet wide. So basically the same size only one was horizontal the other vertical.
“Creative day. I don’t need much assistance today. Only you, my camera and paint, all of which I have in front of me.”
“Cool,” I looked around. “So, what do you want me to do?”
“We’ll start with test shots. I’ll need you to stand in front of the horizontal painting.” He helped me to stand then scooped me up and walked me over to another chair that had been placed in front of the wall. On the floor under my twisted ankle was a pillow. He stood me next to the chair so I was using the back of it to bear weight on that side of my body. “The pillow is in case you need to place your foot down. I don’t want you placing it on hard concrete and further injuring it. This should help, oui?”
I smiled wide. “Yes, thank you, Alec. Just do whatever you need to do. I’m fine, perfectly comfortable,” I assured him.
He moved around the space and over to a tripod then adjusted the lights. “Okay, now remove your t-shirt. Leave the undergarment on, for now, I only need to see the angles and shapes of your shoulders, arms, neck, sides, of your upper body.”
Taking a deep breath I bit down on my lip then lifted my shirt and flung it aside. “Okay, Frenchie, but it’s gonna cost you,” I warned.
“I’m well aware of the expense,” he said behind his camera. The second I removed my shirt the camera started clicking.
I stood stock still in my black lace bra. It covered me completely, no more skin showing than a bikini top would, but still, I was nervous. Over the years I’d done a bit of acting and hoped to do more but never really spent any time modeling. Never thought I had the body for it.
“Impressionnant,” Alec mumbled in French. That one sounded like a compliment, so I kept quiet and let him do his thing. “You’re doing fine,” he said.
A breath of air left me in a huff. “How is that possible? I’m not doing anything but standing here.”
“With your beauty, it’s enough. Besides, these are test shots for positioning, lighting, and such.” After a few more clicks he came over to me. “Are you tired of standing?”
“A little,” I said, because I was. It was harder than it looked to balance on one foot even if I had a chair to use.
We took a break, and he brought me some water and a blanket. I used the blanket to shield my nakedness. Then he had me back up, only this time, he had me throw my head over and ruffle my hair then bring it back up. I did this a couple times until he felt it was just so. I thought it was just messy and ratty, but he seemed to want the r
atty, wild hair.
“Your colors are perfection, ma jolie.” He walked over to a table, and brought over a paint brush and a small can of paint. The paint was cherry red. “This is going to feel strange but I’m going to apply this paint to your lips. It is not toxic.”
“Sure, whatever you gotta do. It’s your dime.”
He shook his head and chuckled. I smiled but then made a poufy-lipped face while he delicately painted my lips. It glistened brightly and seemed to have a plastic-like quality to it. When he was done, he fluffed my hair a few more times and walked back to his camera.”
“Now, Mia, think of something sad. Something that hurts your heart…very bad. Maybe even think of something you are missing, oui?”
I didn’t want to mess up my lips so I just looked off into the distance and thought of Wes. What was he doing right now? Who was he with? Did he miss me? What if he was standing half naked in front of someone else? Those thoughts were too tortured, and I tried to change gears. Only God knows why, but I thought of my dad. I hadn’t seen him in a month. He was still in a coma without his daughter sitting by his side. That thought hit me straight in the heart.
“Mia!” Alec said sharply and I turned my head so fast I blinked. A lone tear slipped down my cheek. The camera clicked. “Got it,” he said softly. I whisked away the remaining tears that were on the cusp of falling.
“We done?” My voice cracked when he handed me a wet cloth.
“For this part of the project, yes, we are done. You may wash off the paint and have a rest. I’ll get your shirt.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, feeling a little flustered and a lot emotional.
Once we finished and I was dressed, we sat side by side and looked out one of the rickety windows down to the Seattle street below. A light rain was pelting against the asphalt, and people rushed around to avoid getting soaked.
“What is this picture we’re working on now?”
February (Calendar Girl #2) Page 2
