by Ali Parker
"I like that. I think if I had to decide right now, I would choose to move up here and give Erica a try. I like the city as well. I hate the idea of being away from you guys though."
"That's what planes are for. You know I'm about to start traveling next year, so don't let me hold you up. Just remember that even though you've been thinking about this chick for a while that the relationship is basically new. It's in its infancy. Take things slow."
"So no blistering hot sex tonight?"
"Oh that would be fucking awesome. Score that if you get a chance. I would."
I rolled my eyes. "You could have any man in Dallas. Silly woman."
"I'm saving myself for a prince, remember?"
"I knew it!" I glanced up as the door to the retirement home slung open. Erica walked out with tears rolling down her cheeks. "I gotta go."
I dropped the call and put my phone into my pocket as I moved toward her.
"What happened? You okay?" I gripped her shoulders softly before pulling her toward me into a tight hug. She let out a soft sob and buried her face against my chest. It was the only time I'd ever seen the great Erica Hall show pain.
"I hate her. She makes me feel like I'm not even there. Like I don't matter." She pulled back from me and wiped at her eyes. "I'm sorry. I just feel so stupid for bringing you here. This is the last thing I would want anyone to see. Especially you."
"I'm sorry she is how she is. Let's get out of here and get something to eat. I want to talk to you about something anyway. We could spend a little time on a different subject that might make you feel better, and then we'll grab a nap before the concert. We are still going to rock it out with Blink-182 tonight, right?"
She nodded and forced a smile. "Yeah. Let's get out of here."
I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head as we walked toward the car. She handed me the keys and as silly as it was, the simple act of letting me drive was proof that she didn't want to lead in a relationship the whole time. Maybe she was just waiting on the right man to take the reins.
Was that me? It sure as hell felt like it.
Chapter 12
Erica
"I love this place." I picked up my menu and tried to push down the feeling of unworthiness I always left my mother's house feeling. It didn't matter if I was five or twenty-nine. I still had the uncanny sense that she looked at me like I was one of the greatest mistakes of her life. My father had always gone out of his way to remind me that I was loved and a princess in his eyes, but my mom stripped that warmth away any and every chance she got. I was never enough.
"The menu looks great. What are you thinking about getting?"
Matt's deep blue eyes moved from the menu to my face and the depth in them caught me off-guard. He'd been so good to me over the last day or so, but seeing a different side of him didn't help my desire to push him to stay in Seattle with me. There had to be something bigger or better than me that would convince him that he needed to move. If I wasn't enough for my own mother, then I certainly wouldn't be enough for a complete stranger.
"I like the hummus and their pizzas are killer."
"Good. Let's get the hummus for an appetizer and share a pizza or two."
"Two?" I laughed and laid my menu on the table. "I'm good with whatever you want. What did you want to talk with me about?"
"Let's do the pepperoni and mushroom and then the curry pizza. That sounds weird as hell. We'll probably love it." He leaned back in his chair and picked up the beer the waitress dropped off a few moments before, but didn't take a drink. "I know this might sound trite, but I really want to have one more piece ready for the showing that Jonathan is working on for De Luge."
"Why would that sound trite? It seems like a great idea to add something that you specifically did just for the showing." I picked up my glass of white wine and took a quick sip. "What were you thinking of doing?"
"I want a piece that shows beauty, strength and sensuality."
"Mmm... I like that a lot. It reminds me of my red painting in the hall." I smiled, having a newfound excitement over the possibility of getting back to my own art. If I got nothing more than an awakening inside me from Matt's visit, it might just be enough.
"Exactly." He lifted the beer bottle to his lips and took a long drink. "You should paint out your pain from your visits to see your mom. That's the only way you're going to survive that shit."
I nodded and let my eyes move down to my hands as I began to pick at my nails. "It's always been this way. It's nothing new."
He reached across the table and gripped the top of my hands. "That doesn't make it right."
"I know, but she's getting older. I'm not going to turn my back on her now when she needs me most. My brother, who she worships, never visits her anymore. We both know that he isn't out of town, and yet she keeps on pushing me away." I shrugged. "I really don't want to talk about this."
"I know you don't. We can move to another subject, but I want you to consider going by the nearest art supply store and loading up on paints and canvases. Open your mind back up to the possibility of bleeding out your heart in the best way you know how. Tears aren't you."
I took a shaky breath and glanced up. "You're right. I'll give it some consideration. Tell me what you're thinking about painting for your additional piece."
"You."
"I'm sorry?" I pulled my hands from his and leaned back in my seat, confused.
"I want to paint you." He shrugged. "You can pick something you enjoy wearing, or even better, let me see what you have in your closet and I'll pick it for you. I want the world to see what I see."
A flurry of emotions beat through the center of my chest.
"And tell me... what do you see?" I crossed my arms across my midsection, not completely sure I was ready to hear his response. I wanted him to want me too much as it were. Suffering another blow after having my mom bend me over wasn't a possibility.
"I see so many things." He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table. "I see strength and determination. You run your working world with an iron fist and keep people at arm’s length, don't you?"
"Yes," I whispered and reached for my wine, needing liquid courage to get through the rest of our lunch together.
"I see beauty beyond anything I've experienced anywhere else. The way your lips swell right here." He leaned across the table and ran his fingertips across my bottom lip before sitting back down. "Your eyes are the color of the sky on a clear day at times and the cloudiness of a storm in the belly of the sea at others. Your skin is flawless and leaves me wanting to reach out and touch you like you belong to me."
"Thank you." I lifted my glass.
He reached across the table again and pushed the glass back down a little. "I see passion trapped behind your facade. You're an artist and yet you don't paint, you aren't drawing and I would even stretch to say that you haven't made love in a long time."
"Is it that obvious?" I pulled my glass toward me and downed the contents. "I'll think about letting you paint my picture. You flatter me, but I've heard enough. Really."
He smiled and dropped his hands back into his lap. "Tell me any of it's wrong and I'll apologize for being a presumptuous prick."
"No, it's all spot on. I just hate you a little more for bringing it all up. It's a horrible reminder."
"No, you didn't hear me, Erica. People are going to stop by the painting of you and stand there, longing with this incredible desire to know you. To heal you. To love you." He picked up his beer and lifted it in the air. "To the best still-life painting I will ever create."
"I haven't said yes." I laughed as he shifted his beer bottle toward my glass. I couldn't deny him, though I hated myself for hitting my wine glass against his beer bottle. In effect, he won.
"But you will. You want to see what I see." He gave me a cocky smirk as the waitress walked up.
"Such a Bryant right now." I rolled my eyes and picked up my menu to order for us. The sad part w
as that he was right - about all of it.
***
"You still thinking about my offer?" Matt walked next to me from the parking lot up to the condo. Sleep tugged at me, and a nap sounded better than winning the lottery or falling in love. Funny how it was the simple things in life that pulled me in deep.
"No, I'm not thinking about it. I'll do it if you think it would help you with your showing."
He chuckled and followed me into the chilly house. "This isn't about me, Erica. It's about you."
"What about me?" I tossed my purse onto the table and turned to face him. "I don't want to see how you see me. What if it's ugly?"
"The painting or my vision of you?"
"Both?" I smiled and took a step closer to him. "You know I have feelings for you. It would hurt too much to see that you found me as commonplace as the next girl."
"Right. Because that's the woman I described at lunch, right?" He reached out and caressed the side of my face. "You wanna take a nap?"
"Yeah. I can take the couch though." I cupped my hand over his and turned my face a little, pressing my lips against his palm.
"Let's just lay down in the bedroom together. We don't have to push things between us until we're ready. I can keep my hands to myself."
"It's not you I'm worried about." I kissed his hand one more time before pulling it from my face. "I'm good with us sharing the bed."
"Let me see your closet first."
"No. If you're going to paint me, then do the pose in the nude. Show me the full picture." I turned and walked to the bedroom. I was bold if anything, and having Matthew Bryant etch my pain and pleasure on a large canvas wasn't going to change that. I was softening in front of him, which was scaring me, but I couldn't seem to help myself. My protective walls were coming down when they should have been solidifying and bringing in reinforcements.
"You don't mean that." He stopped by the bed and kicked off his shoes as I sat down on the edge of the mattress and pulled off my sandals.
"Sure I do. I want to see what you see, but you've yet to see all of me."
"I'm not sure I would survive it."
I laughed and turned to crawl up the bed. He grabbed me and turned me over before pressing himself to the top of me and brushing my hair from my face.
"And if I can't make it through the project without taking you to bed?" He brushed his nose by mine and nipped at my lips.
"Then take from me whatever you want. Just promise me that you'll paint me as you see me and not as I am." I reached up and pulled carefully at the back of his head, forcing him to press his lips to mine.
We groaned in tandem as I tilted my head and opened my mouth, coaxing his tongue to follow mine in an age old dance. He moved his hips just so, and I opened my legs, making room for him.
"I wish you would have worn the shorter skirt." He smiled and kissed me a few more times before moving back and pulling my skirt up to the middle of my thighs. His fingers pulling at the back of my legs left me whimpering softly against the side of his neck.
"You seem to have taken care of the problem." I slid my feet up the outsides of his legs and wrapped my legs tightly around his center.
"You have no clue how beautiful you are, woman." He brushed his lips up the side of my neck and kissed my ear a few times. "I want so badly to feel you move against me, to hear you moan my name, to feel your body contract as you come for me."
"Fuck," I groaned loudly and undulated my hips, not quite sure I would make it through another playful make-out session with the handsome bastard.
"Tonight. After the concert. Promise me we can have one night together." He moved back to hover above me and kissed my lips softly. "I need to let myself go and I trust you. I want to do that with you. Yeah?"
"Yeah. Please." I pulled him back down and took my time exploring his mouth. The thick press of his arousal against my center left me aching and wet, but I didn't push it any farther. The promise of having the whole night to explore each other was more than enough to hold me back for a little while longer.
"You smell so fucking good." He rolled off of me and growled loudly before reaching for me. "Come lay on me."
I didn't say a word, but crawled on top of him. He helped to position me with my back against his chest, which was odd, but being pressed to him anyway I could be was bliss.
He gripped the sides of my skirt and pulled it up over my stomach, leaving my lower half bared.
"I wanna touch you." He kissed the side of my neck and brushed his fingers over my sex as I arched roughly and cried out. "It's been too long, Erica."
"Way too long." I reached down and gripped his hand as a tremor ran through me. "Wait."
"No." He reached up with his free hand and forced me to turn my face toward him as he made love to my mouth. My moans were captured against his lips as he slipped his thick fingers under the thin scrap of my panties and sunk himself into me. "Work your body against mine."
I cried out again as pleasure swelled deep inside of me. Being with him was almost too much.
"So beautiful." He pumped his fingers in and out of my wetness as I let my knees drop to the side and rolled my hips in rhythm to him fucking me.
It took no more than a few minutes and I groaned his name, lifting off of him and letting the world explode around me in brilliant colors.
Colors I'd almost forgotten existed.
Chapter 13
Matt
"You ready to go?" I turned from the kitchen sink with a glass of water in my hand, the desire to lick my fingers clean raging through me. I knew she wouldn't appreciate it, or maybe I was being a prick about wanting her to think of me as more of a gentleman than I was. Sex was the ultimate expression of passion and I'd denied myself too long.
The sound of her moans accompanied with her writhing on top of me as her body clenched around my fingers had me coming alongside her the second time I brought her over the edge. I wasn't sure she realized the power she had over me, or maybe she was simply being careful not to use it. Either way, I wanted more. So much more.
I took a long drink and watched her with the remnant of desire that still danced around my stomach. I wasn't sure it was going to dissipate with her anywhere near me. It was a waste of energy to try and force myself into a calm. My fantasies were within reach. So close.
"Absolutely." She licked at her lips subtly and walked to the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of water and holding it out to me. "You want one of these tonight?"
"Nope. I'm drinking a few more beers while we're there." I extended my hand. "Give me the keys and I'll drive us up there. If I'm too shit-faced to get us home, you make sure we get here. Deal?"
"Deal." She walked to the front door and tossed the keys over her shoulder.
My eyes moved down to study the sexy curve of her ass in her jeans. The tight white shirt she wore hit just above her waistband and left a little tease of her creamy flesh on display. I couldn't help but run my fingers by it as I moved past her.
"I'm so fucking excited. How did you score these tickets?" I got into my side of her car and buckled up.
"One of my staff had extra tickets. Lewis Marshall. He's a great guy actually. He's a graphic designer and just moved over from the Caribbean. He has a killer accent and sees everything as a new adventure."
"Sounds like my kinda guy." I started the car and reached over to rest my hand on her thigh as I pulled out. "How much did you have to pay for the tickets? I'll pay you back."
"No way. I got them for free. Lewis wouldn't let me pay for them either, but I should probably slip him something. They're on the front row from what I could tell."
"What? No fucking way. Give them here and let me see." I took them from her and glanced down. "Wow. They totally are."
"Why are you so excited? Your dad makes more money than God. You've never sat in the front row of a rock concert?" Her smile was genuine.
"No, I don't take money from my dad other than what he pays in my rent and grocery bill. I've tried h
ard to sell a few of my paintings over the years and just live frugal. He and Damon make shit tons of money, but I just barely get by. They'd both pump money into my account left and right, but I'm not about that. I hate that my father still pays my rent. This year things are changing though. Or really next year." I shrugged. "I want to spend Christmas at home this year, and then if I'm going to make the move up here, it will be in January."
"I like that." She nodded and turned back to face the front of the car. "I won't push you anymore. I know it's a hard decision and it's not just about one thing, but many."
"I appreciate that. Tell me a little bit more about the opening that you have in your department."
"We're always looking for designers. You could work in several different areas, but I think being part of the idea tank would be good for you. We meet twice a week for a couple of hours and work through the upcoming projects for the company. Once we determine where we want to go with our marketing and advertising in those areas, one of the designers in the room takes the idea and sketches it. I think you'd like that. It's pure art at that point."
"And after that point?" I turned the radio down so I could focus solely on her.
"Another team will take it and put it into a graphic design program where we can manipulate it. That's the hardest part, I think. Taking your art and handing it over to someone else to beat it up and change it. You really don't get a say in the final project, but I don't either. Your father has final approval, but he's got quite an eye for artistic design. Everything we've worked on thus far has been relatively painless."
"He's a great guy. I like the idea of taking a concept and turning it into a design. How many days a week are we talking?"
"As many as you want. I'm sure we could work out something specifically for you and your desires with Kent. It's all up to you really."
"All right. That helps." I turned onto the freeway and rolled down the windows. "No more serious shit tonight. Just me and you having fun. You down?"
