by Lila Fox
Nora seemed different. She was completely genuine. Listening to my story with intent, commenting when she felt like it and offering her opinion on certain aspects, fully enraptured with the still ongoing story of Dex and I.
She said nothing as I ended the tale, finishing off with the details about the night before.
“Wow…”
I nodded my head.
“That is some love story, Rosaline Reed.”
I chuckled a bit, not replying but inwardly agreeing with her assessment.
“I think so. I’ve never really been in love before.” I admitted.
She laughed, her pretty face lighting up in the early afternoon sun. “Lucky you. You didn’t have to go through a bunch of awful assholes before you found your Mr. Right.”
“Enough about me, what’s going on in your world? Is that gross guy still bothering you at work?”
Nora groaned, her hand running through her dark brown shoulder length hair. “No, thank God! He grabbed my ass the other night and Terry banned him from the bar.” She took a sip of her mimosa. “The fucking prick.”
She kept going, prattling on about her classes at college and the rebellious stage her younger sister was going through. And I let her. I loved hearing about her life. So full of love and color. Nora always seemed to be working on four projects on top of her schooling and work. I didn’t know how she did it. She was completely tireless, relentlessly ambitious, and totally amazing.
She was probably the most effortlessly cool person I had ever met in my entire life. Besides, Dex, of course. I silently prayed a little bit of her rubbed off on me during our time together.
After Brunch, Nora dropped me off at Dex’s studio, making me promise to check in with her every once in awhile so she could make sure “that fucking Casanova boyfriend of yours hasn’t killed you with the power of good dick.”
“Dex.” My voice held a sing-songy tone as I announced my presence in the warehouse.
“I’m back here, baby.” His voice came from a secluded corner of the studio, one he normally used to house unfinished paintings and other projects.
He was stationed in front of a large canvas, looking over the painting towards me. “Come here.” He beckoned me closer. “I want you to see this.”
The painting was beautiful, just as every piece of work created by his hands was, but it was the subject of the art that made me choke up. It was me. Kind of. The slate grey background of the painting held my face in the center. Both abstract and not, half of the portrait of me was covered in colorful brushstrokes; choppy, messy, and endlessly beautiful.
Dex had somehow gotten every detail of my face down perfectly while also transforming my likeness into something more extraordinary than I could have ever hoped to be.
I wondered if this was how he always saw me. If this was how he saw everyone.
The flood of emotions that filled me was unbelievable. I never saw myself depicted so wonderfully before. I never had anyone devote the time and effort into knowing me the way Dex had.
In that moment, filled with love and overflowing with wonderment at the man beside me, I could do nothing but tear up.
13
Dex
Watching Rosie try to hide her little sniffles had me cursing myself. Maybe the painting had been too much too soon. I put my heart, soul, and the entire extent of my feelings for her inside of the piece. I hadn’t expected her to see it so soon, definitely not while it was still unfinished, but I didn’t think viewing it for the first time would reduce her to tears either.
“Fuck!” I took her into my arms, bringing her head into the crook of my neck. “Don’t cry, baby.”
Rosie sobbed harder, her body shivering in my arms and her tears sliding against my warm skin. I tightened my arms around her and said nothing, waiting for her to calm down.
A couple minutes of vehement crying quietly turned into soft sniffles as she calmed herself down, prompting me to apologize.
“Shit, Rosie. I didn’t mean to make you upset. You weren’t even supposed to see the damn thing.”
It felt weird, apologizing for my art. It wasn’t something I ever did before and sure as hell didn’t plan on doing it again, but as it stood, I probably would have done anything to ensure the happiness of my Rosie.
She shook her head, her dirty blonde curls falling around her face. “No, no. I’m not crying because I’m sad, Dex.”
I was confused. What the hell else would she be crying for?
“I’m just…” she trailed off, looking up into my eyes, her pretty mouth curled into a small smile. “I’m really honored. No one has ever done anything like this for me before.”
I didn’t know what to say; it seemed almost impossible. Rosie was the most awe-inspiring person I had ever met, so full of mystery and goodness. It was hard to believe she had never been used as inspiration fodder by some poor asshole who had been knocked off of his feet by her presence.
I captured her again, wrapping myself around her, thankful that I hadn’t actually upset her. “What can I say, sweetheart. You inspire the hell out of me.”
“Do you want to go to an exhibit with me tomorrow night?” I asked Rosie immediately as she finished a phone call with a local art supplier.
“Huh?” She didn’t even look up at me, distracted by the notes she was jotting down.
I chuckled. “You know. An art exhibit. At a gallery.”
Rosie looked up from her paper, her face adorably unimpressed. “I know what an exhibit is, smartass.” She reached over to open the calendar on the desktop computer in front of her, clicking on the calendar app. “I just don’t see one on your schedule.”
“I know.” I leaned against the doorframe, watching her seamlessly complete multiple tasks at once. Our budding relationship aside, she really was the best assistant I ever had. Endlessly efficient and hardworking. “It was scheduled before you started. I forgot to mention it.”
She nodded her head but ignored my previous question. I scoffed.
“Say you’ll go with me.”
“I don’t have anything nice enough to wear to an art exhibit.”
I looked down at her outfit, a pair of ass-hugging skinny jeans and a loose fitting cotton tank top. “You can go in what you have on now for all I care.”
The frown on her face deepened. “I think you keep forgetting that I don’t know anything about art. I wouldn’t be very good company.”
I laughed. “Rosie, no one at these things ever knows a goddamn thing about art.”
“So why do you want to go?”
“I don’t. But as it stands, one of my pieces is going to be shown so I kind of have to show my face.”
“And why do you want me to go?”
I narrowed my eyes. “I thought that was pretty damn obvious.”
Rosie relinquished, grinning up at my expectant face. “Fine.”
I dragged her out of the office chair by her face, claiming my victory with my mouth.
I was completely speechless when I picked Rosie up from her apartment the next evening. There was nothing I could have said, no words or expressions that could accurately convey how fucking stunning she looked.
Her plump, curvy body was covered in a low-cut pale yellow dress that flared out into large pleats at the waist and showed off the gorgeous expanse of her neck, her lightly freckled shoulders and the tops of her full breasts. Her hair was swept up into a curly up-do, giving me full view of her lightly made up face, and her dainty little feet were encased in a pair of white, strappy heels.
“You like?” She spoke first before closing her door and stepping out into the hallway, giving me a coy little twirl.
“You look good enough to eat, baby.”
Rosie grinned, her glossy lips curling upwards to reveal her pearly teeth. Her beauty was almost too much for me to handle. “Is it appropriate for the occasion? I’ve never been to one of these before so I wasn’t sure.”
“It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” A thought pop
ped into my head. “I thought you said you didn’t have anything to wear?”
She shrugged. “It was on sale.”
Our drive to the gallery was spent in relative silence, we enjoyed the soft sounds of a local radio personality announcing the chart-topping hits as we made our way further downtown. As we pulled up and parked out front, I heard Rosie take a deep, shaky breath next to me.
I looked over at her, my expression concerned. “Hey, you alright?”
Rosie stared at the group lingering on the sidewalk outside, all impeccably dressed and laughing amongst one another. “Yeah, I’m just a little nervous.”
Taking her hand I prompted her to turn around and face me. “Everything is going to be okay, Rosie. You have nothing to be nervous about.”
She did nothing but nod, visibly steadying herself before unbuckling her seatbelt. I quickly exited the car and made my way around the other side, offering her a soft peck on the forehead as she stepped out.
While I definitely wasn’t nervous about the event, I still didn’t really want to be there. I actually had entertained the idea of skipping the exhibit altogether. A couple hours after arriving I almost wished I had. I was entirely unimpressed with the process of having to mingle with a bunch of rich dicks and keeping up with pretentious conversations about what they thought the art around them was supposed to mean instead of enjoying it for what it was.
No matter their medium, artists were always a conundrum to people. Brooding talents full of anguish and love and a thousand other things all at once. These assholes could chat for hours about the texture of my brushstrokes and my use of colors and never understand what went through my mind as I created.
It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate the opportunity, I would have been an idiot not to. Grayson Contemporary was one of the most well respected art galleries in the city. They’d housed and sold the work of some of the greatest contemporary artists in the country and I knew my piece was going to sell for a pretty penny tonight. Both the cash out and the exposure would do nothing but good things for me. Still, every time I had to stuff myself into some uncomfortable suit and chat with some walking checkbook about the merits of Basquiat’s early work, I felt like a sellout.
Rosie, of course, handled the entire affair beautifully. She mingled, keeping her small talk to generalized topics, charming everyone with her beauty and charisma. She was a fucking force to be reckoned with, just like I knew she would be.
“So that’s her, huh?” I grinned as I heard my best friend’s voice behind me. “She’s hot.”
Turning around to give him hug and a flick on the head. “Watch yourself you fucking prick!”
Cam laughed before stuffing his hands into his pants pockets as we both watched Rosie chat with a curly-haired woman across the room. I couldn’t help but laugh at how uncomfortable he looked in his suit. Cam, like myself, had always been more of a jeans and t-shit kind of guy. He hated it when I made him don a “monkey suit for one of my events.
“C’mon, I’ll introduce you.”
Practically dragging Rosie away from her conversation, I gestured towards Cam. “Rosie, this is Cameron, my idiot, piece of shit, best friend. Cam, this is Rosie, my angel of a girlfriend.”
Rosie looked over at me shocked, her eyes almost comically wide before Cam knocked her out of her stupor by enveloping her into a hug, lifting her slightly off of the ground, causing her to laugh.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Cameron.”
“I’ve got to say, Rosie. You’re definitely the prettiest out of all Dex’s girlfriends.”
She looked over at me, one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised and her arms crossing across her chest. “Oh, really?”
Her face, while seemingly angry, was still playful, those big brown eyes were full of mirth. I played along.
“Absolutely.” I nodded my head enthusiastically. “You’re the prettiest one in my roster, by far.”
Rosie let out a bark of laughter, drawing the attention of some of the patrons standing near us before throwing her hand over her mouth and reaching out to punch me in the shoulder.
“Ow!”
“Oh, shut it.”
Our antics were interrupted by the gallery owner, Carrie, approaching us. The large smile on her face clued me into exactly what she was about to tell me.
“You’re not going to believe how much it sold for, Dex!” She could barely contain her excitement enough to acknowledge the two people standing next to me.
I let Carrie drag me off to chat with the buyer and finalize some paperwork, leaving Cam and Rosie to talk amongst themselves. I could only imagine the type of shit he would be telling her about me.
The buyer was a nice, middle-aged woman with fiery red hair, a fat wallet, and a penchant for spoiling herself with fine art. She was perfectly pleasant, content to compliment me on my work and get straight to business.
After paying the gallery their commission I ended up pocketing about 15 grand. As much as I hated to admit it, it always felt good to be acknowledged for my work. Especially when that acknowledgment came in the form of a big check.
I played the role of the starving artist for years, working shitty job after shitty job, barely being able to afford enough paint to fill a canvas; I more than deserved this.
In that moment, the only thing I wanted more than to cash my check, was to take my girl out to dinner.
Rosie and Cam were laughing and stealing leftovers from the snack table when I made my way back to them.
I grabbed her up, taking her mouth in a victory kiss. That gorgeous mouth tasted heavily of the red wine she had been sipping on all night.
“Come on, baby. Say goodbye to Cam. We’re going out to celebrate.”
She didn’t protest as I practically dragged her back towards the Porsche, the grin never straying from my face.
14
Rosie
“I think Nora and Cam would be cute together.” I gently broached the topic as Dex drove us home after our late dinner.
“Nora…” He paused for a moment, his brow furrowing hard as he tried to remember who I was talking about. “Your friend, Nora? Why do you say that?”
I immediately remembered that Dex and Nora had never formally met. Their short encounter in our apartment building had left a good impression on both of them, but they’d yet to sit down and have an actual conversation. If they had, Dex would have seen that she and Cam were practically perfect for each other.
My short time spent with Cameron was filled with laughs and jokes. His big smile was incredibly infectious and his humor, while definitely reminiscent of a dirty high schooler, was much appreciated. I was surprised when he showed up. Dex talked about him, of course, about the trouble they got into as kids and how Cam had always been there for him. The two men complimented each other perfectly: their comfortable camaraderie was amazing to watch. I was intensely happy that Dex cared for me enough to introduce me to someone so close to him so soon in our relationship.
During our short conversation, Cam alluded to being “painfully single.” And while he hadn’t dropped any hints that he was actively looking to be set up, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he and Nora would be great together.
I hoped I wasn’t overstepping; it was true that I hadn’t known Nora long, but I felt a strong connection with her and I hoped that entertaining the thought of setting her up with Cam wasn’t disrespectful in some way.
“They’re both funny and when I was talking to Cam tonight I realized they had a lot in common.” I thought back on my previous conversation with Dex’s handsome best friend. “Plus, they’re both gorgeous. I think they’d make a good fit.”
“You think Cam is gorgeous?”
I moved my hand over to Dex’s strong thigh, feeling it clench under my fingers as soon as I touched him. “Sure.” I stroked my hand along his clothed flesh.
Dex groaned softly.
“But not as gorgeous as me right?”
I rolled my eyes. “No, Dex. Not n
early as gorgeous as you.”
I turned my head back to the window, watching the Miami lights fade as we drove farther away from the city, my left hand still stationed on Dex’s thigh, the tips of my fingers rubbing mindlessly along the inseam of Dex’s pants.
“I’m gonna need you to cut that shit out.” His deep voice chimed out a couple minutes later, slightly strangled and gruff.
Looking over at him curiously, I questioned, “Cut what out?”
Dex said nothing but his eyes drifted down into his lap, I followed his gaze, laying eyes on the prominent bulge tenting the front of his trousers.
I couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. “Seriously?”
He shrugged. “How am I supposed to concentrate when you’re that close to my junk?”
I held in a laugh, seriously amused at his predicament but also turned on by the fact that I had such an effect on him with so little effort.
My thoughts buzzed with thoughts of something I had only read about, I wanted to pleasure Dex the same way he had pleasured me the day before. Pushing down my slight feelings of insecurity I reached down to unbuckle my seatbelt, turning towards him in my seat and trailing my hand up to the belt stationed firmly around his hips.
“What are you doing?” Dex’s voice sounded even deeper this time, but I didn’t respond.
Making quick work of his belt and zipper I slide my hand into his pants, working his black boxer briefs down a bit to get more access to his cock before fully pulling him out. Even only half hard, his dick seemed huge in my grasp. It’s girth completely unable to be contained in my fingers and the length of him perfectly proportioned with the rest. It was the first time I got a real look at his cock and the sight of the perfectly cut, dripping head had my mouth watering.
I stroked him a few times, coaxing him into full hardness before lowering my head and taking a tentative lick from root to tip.
