Canvas (The Program Book 1)

by N. M. Catalano

  He’s holding me perfectly so every thrust, every grind, every movement hits me exactly where I need it.

  I’m running fast toward that cliff, and I’m going to dive head first and soar.

  “That sweet virgin ass of yours loves to be filled doesn’t it, princess?” he whispers gruffly.

  “Yes,” I whimper drunkenly.

  I can’t think, I can’t speak, I can’t see. I can only feel. And right now I’m feeling every single thing Rock’s doing to me.

  “Ah, princess, you never knew it could be like this, did you, feel so good filled up like this.”

  “No,” I moan.

  His grip tightens on my shoulder and he begins to thrust quick and short.

  “There’s so much I want to do to you, this is only the beginning,” he growls.

  The wave starts to crash down on me and I shatter. I scream his name as the orgasm tears through me.

  Rock pulls his fingers from me, takes hold of my hips with both hands and moves me onto him, thrusting into me, coming right after me.

  He rolls us to our sides and holds me close as we come down from the high.

  “So good,” his voice is husky and deep.

  I sigh. It’s all I can manage. He’s fucked everything out of me.

  “I made breakfast, princess,” Rock murmurs through the messy veil of my hair.

  I hadn’t noticed I’m hungry until he mentioned food, then my stomach screams at me to feed it.

  “Thank you,” I mumble.

  I don’t know what to say. This wasn’t a night of intimacy after a date. Even if it were, I wouldn’t know how to act; I’ve never had one. This was a frenzied sexually induced situation that we fell into. And I’ve never had one of those either.

  He leaves a trail of kisses over my shoulder and up my neck.

  This guy is seriously something else, and if I’m not careful, I could fall very hard for him very quickly. I’m not used to this, to intimacy and caressing and touching. I’m not used to anyone acting like I matter.

  “You can have a shower if you’d like while I heat it back up,” he says.

  I’m grateful for the opportunity to get my shit together. But as sick as it sounds, I’m not in that much of hurry to wash his ‘dirtying me up’ from my body.

  “Thanks, I think I will.”

  “Okay, princess,” he disentangles himself from me. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen when you’re ready.” He stands, pulls on his pants, and heads toward the door. “I hope coffee’s okay with you.”

  “Yes, it’s great,” I’m acting weird, I know it, but I can’t help it.

  He knows it too.

  “Great.” He closes the door behind him when he leaves.

  Now what?

  First, I need to get my myself together from the mind blowing fuck session we’ve had for the past twelve hours.

  Holy mother of God!

  I need to get a grip, I need to be cool, calm and collected, I need to not act like a girl with a huge crush, her first crush. Because that’s exactly what I feel like.

  Except it’s completely XXX rated.

  It was so, good, so, so, SO good. I find I’m wanting things I never thought I’d ever consider before. And I’m grateful for all of it, because if I never experience this again, at least I’ll always have this.

  But first, I need to get cleaned up so I don’t over-stay my welcome and Rock thinks he needs to find a way to kick me out.

  I tentatively stand when I get out of bed to try out my knee. It seems to be fine, he was right to keep me off of it last night. I grin as a flash of heat seeps through my body.

  He was right about so many things.

  Good Lord, the man’s a flippin’ sex god! I am so screwed. And so lucky.

  I notice my bag on the loveseat in front of the fireplace. I grab it and head into the master bath.

  This house is gorgeous.

  I admire the spacious bathroom, it has a huge double shower and a Jacuzzi, a two basin sink, and is decorated in dark woodsy colors with copper fixtures.

  As I shower, I can’t help analyzing everything that has transpired between Rock and I since he blew into my life. He’s more of a mystery now than when I first met him. How does a tattoo artist have a place like this? What kind of guy does portraits like that? Why does he like to be out here alone? And what did he mean he stayed away because he thought I’d be scared of him…of them?

  I don’t have time for this.

  Get dressed. Go home.

  Right.

  I don’t bother with make-up after I pull my clothes on. I’m starved by the time I meet Rock in the kitchen, everything smells so good. The house is immaculate and I wonder if he cleans it or if he hires someone. Then I think of the cheesecake mess.

  Ugh.

  “So, um, thank you,” I mumble from the kitchen doorway.

  Rock’s standing at the counter with a cup in his hand held up to his mouth looking out the window into the yard.

  He’s too damn beautiful. That is just not right. And he can fuck like a magic man. So not fair!

  He slowly turns, there’s a glimmer in his eye and his mouth is curved with a grin. He’s still shirtless and I can smell our sex on him even from this distance and over the food. My whole body comes alive again.

  “You don’t have to rush off, princess. I’m not going to attack you. Besides, it was your idea. You asked me to use you.” He cocks an eyebrow. “Both times.”

  I can feel the flash of heat explode on my face.

  God, I did, didn’t I? I lower my face. I practically begged him.

  He walks over to me. “Hey, stop. What we shared, everything that happened between us, it was not just fucking, Summer. It was more than that, you know it, I know it.” He slides his arm around my back and leads me to the large wooden table. “So sit your pretty little ass down and have some breakfast. If you need to go after that, I understand. But I brought you here to take care of you and I’m not letting you leave without feeding you.”

  Is this the way it’s supposed to be? How two people care about each other?

  “Okay.”

  He goes to the stove and serves two plates. When he comes back, he places one in front of me, the other he keeps for himself. They’re overflowing with French toast, bacon, and eggs. Then he slides a mug of coffee in front of me with sugar and creamer.

  I glance at him, astonished. “Sorry, no fancy milk. I’m just a regular coffee guy,” Rock says with a boyish grin.

  “Who are you and what did you do with that smart-ass I met first?” I laugh.

  He tips his head back and laughs. “He’s still here, just one of my many multiple personalities. They all get along great though, so don’t worry.”

  I smile as I stir in sugar and milk in my coffee. “That’s good to know.”

  He narrows his eyes at me as he smirks and scoops up a forkful of food. “There is one that is dying to meet you, though.”

  My body heat rises at the unsaid innuendos. I lift the mug and stare at him over the rim. “Oh?” I ask.

  “Yes,” he takes another bite of food. “As a matter of fact,” he points his empty fork at me, “he says this would be a perfect place to make his introduction,” he gestures to the table. “Right here.”

  My heart rate quickens. “Really? How’s that?”

  “It’s a great place for you to lie back so he can smack your sweet little clit, your legs spread, maybe tied to the table legs, until you came all over it.”

  I choke on the sip of coffee I just took.

  Rock laughs as he pats my back.

  “Are you okay?” he chuckles.

  I wave him away, “I’m fine,” I sputter.

  He walks to the fridge and gets me a bottle of water. I drink a quarter of it before I can calm down.

  I. Am. In. So. Much. TROUBLE.

  Summer

  CHAPTER 14

  “My dear Summer, ‘ow was your evening?”

  Every inch of my skin with ink on it com
es to life and tingles.

  Mrs. Merriweather’s looking at me with a gleam in her eye and a smirk on her aged pretty face.

  Crap, she knows something. I bet the news was getting around before we even got to Rock’s house.

  “It was fine,” I reply with my most innocent voice and sweetest smile.

  Her chin dips so she can peer at me over her glasses, a smirk on her, face and a gray-haired eyebrow arched. Gwen’s looking everywhere but at me, squirming in her seat next to her grandmother.

  “Just fine? Seems to me if our boy Rock ‘ad carried me out of ‘ere last evening, I’d ‘ave made sure it would ‘ave been a night to remember, I would ‘ave. Now I’ve been (it sounds like oi’ve. Her accent seems to be getting more pronounced the more excited she gets. Lord, I bet I won’t understand a word she says if she really gets going) waiting all day to find out exactly what ‘appened last night. I won’t wait a moment more, sit yourself down, Summer, and tell me everything.” Mrs. Merriweather pats the seat next her, Gwendolyn glances up at me quickly with excited anticipation.

  Oh brother, here we go.

  As the blush explodes on my face, I lie. “Nothing happened.”

  “Nonsense, my girl,” Mrs. Merriweather grins. “And if nothing ‘appened, I would be very disappointed in you.” Whoa, is she telling me I need to get laid? “That boy ‘as been sweet on you since the first time ‘e came in ‘ere, ‘e ‘as.” She pats the empty chair again.

  What?! Wait. Sweet on me? Maybe he wanted to do all sorts of dirty things to me, and I’m SO GLAD he did, but that’s about it. It was just sex. Incredible sex.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t sit, I’m working.”

  “A’right then,” she leans closer and zeroes her gaze on me. The interrogation begins. “Let’s start with why ‘e carried you out of ‘ere.”

  That’s an easy one, I can answer that.

  “I hurt my leg and I couldn’t walk.” It’s the truth.

  She looks me up and down, “Seems to be a’right now. ‘Ow’d you manage that, love?”

  I roll my eyes as I remember the embarrassing incident. “Rock walked in on me standing on a chair, I was kind of dancing and reaching for something and I fell.”

  “For ‘eavens sake, love. You could’ve broken your neck.”

  “Hmmph, that’s what he said.”

  “Well, ‘e was right. It’s a good thing ‘e came along, it was.” I fell because of him. “Did ‘e take you ‘ome?”

  This one’s not quite so easy. My answer could open a giant Pandora’s Box; one I have no interest in letting what’s inside out.

  The table of soccer mom Stepford Wifezilla’s start mumbling amongst themselves. I steal a glance at them two tables down over my shoulder and notice the head witch still hasn’t joined them.

  That’s odd. They’re never without their queen. I wonder who she’s bossing around today.

  I begin to answer Mrs. Merriweather while trying to catch a hint of what they’re saying, “Yes and no.”

  Why are they staring at me? And what could they be whispering about?

  The group of Botox, lipo, wives club women are all whispering, smiling, and looking at me.

  Something’s going on.

  “I also ‘eard you and our boy Rock caused quite a stir at the drugstore as well. I ‘eard ‘e carried you around like ‘e was afraid you’d run off,” she chuckles and claps her hands together. Good God, don’t these people have anything better to do than report what everyone’s doing? “I’d say (there goes that oi’d again) you and ‘e’s the most exciting thing that’s ‘appened to this town since ‘e and ‘is boys came rolling in on their motorbikes, and the day you appeared out of thin air.” She claps again and her eyes go wide. “Well, blimey! I’d say it was fate you both coming ‘ere, it was.”

  I snort. Really loud.

  “Fate had nothing to do with it, Mrs. Merriweather. Logic and calculation were my reasons for staying here,” that and lots and lots of miles between here and where I came from. And my father.

  “Pfffft, nonsense. We might think we’re in control, love, but ‘im up there,” she points upward, “is in charge of everything. Never you mind, ‘twas fate, it was,” she nods emphatically.

  “Mrs. Merriweather, really…,” my words are cut off by the chiming of the door. I turn around.

  No fucking way!

  Rock and Queen Wifezilla come walking in. She looks like the curvy cat in heat that ate the canary. He, at least, has the decency to appear annoyed next to her.

  I’m shocked. I’m so shocked I’m riveted to my spot, not a single part of my body wants to function, not even my brain. I haven’t even begun to fathom the possibilities of WHY he is with HER.

  “Summer,” Rock says my name low and tense.

  The sound of it in his voice triggers an avalanche of emotions and images of all the pornographic things they were doing together. Things like we did. Last night. Everything crashes down on me, her naked with Rock’s cock between her big tits, fucking them, as she begs him to fuck her hard, his Prince Albert piercing flapping up and down like a door knocker. The impact is powerful and physically pushes me back.

  “What would you like?” the question comes out automatically, albeit curt and short. I’ve been saying it probably a hundred times a day to every single person that comes in here, it’s second nature. I glance at the perfectly manicured and silicone implanted bitch at his side and clamp my mouth shut. It looks like you’ve already gotten what you like.

  “Summer,” he repeats my name, this time more demanding. “Don’t. She was at the shop for the guys.”

  What the hell?! And don’t what? Be insulted you come waltzing into my shop with her after we spent the night together having a sexathon? That what? Or do you prefer the sexathons with your boys and this bimbo? Of course I don’t say any of these things, I just glare at him and shout the words with the daggers shooting at him from my eyes.

  My gaze slices to her.

  “Yes,” she coos as she wraps her hand familiarly around Rock’s arm. “They were soooooo good to me.” She chuckles that fake sweet way. “Even Rock. He promised to take really good care of me, didn’t you?”

  She really did screw all of them! Together! And apparently he’s going to fuck her too.

  I know my jaw’s just hit the floor. My eyes bounce back and forth from Rock to her not believing what I’m seeing and hearing.

  “Sasha,” that’s her name. “Get a grip.” He peels her hand from his forearm.

  Another sickening chuckle. Then she leans her body into his, presses her breasts against his arm and whispers, “Oh, I’ve gripped it alright. Gripped so many over and over, I don’t think I can sit for a week.”

  What. The. Fuck?!

  Holding her at arm’s length, he grits out, “Well, if you don’t fucking chill, I’m sure your husband will make sure of it when he finds out. Why don’t you go and sit with your little friends?”

  “You don’t have to be such a killjoy, Rock,” she runs a long fingernail down his front as she pouts. “Summer,” she throws at me as she walks away, “a double shot skinny mochaccino. I need the extra caffeine, I’m so tired.” Another fucking chuckle.

  Rock turns his full attention to me. His jaw is tense and his lips are tight. “It’s not what you think.”

  I cock an eyebrow at him.

  The fuck it’s not! She fucked all your friends and she wants to fuck you too! And it looks like you’re probably going to. I launch another tirade at him from my eyes.

  “It is, but it isn’t, Summer. I’m not going to fucking lie to you,” he scrubs his face with his hand in frustration, “but this is not the place nor the time to discuss it.”

  “You’re right, I’ve got work to do. If you’d like to order something, go ahead. If not, then have a nice day.” I turn and walk behind the counter, giving him my back, my spine stiff and ramrod straight.

  I’m so mad right now, there’s probably smoke coming out of my ears, I’m fuming.<
br />
  As I make Sasha’s coffee, I hear Rock’s footsteps as he moves away, then as he comes back only to stand right next to me behind the counter, so close I can feel his breath on my hair.

  “You’re going to listen to me, princess, even if I have to tie you down to do it. She was at the shop, I left, she followed. That’s it.” He’s shouting at me in a gravelly whisper.

  I’m about to ask him who the hell he thinks he is when I catch Mrs. Merriweather saying something to Sasha out of the corner of my eye.

  “Where ‘ave you been slithering around to?” Mrs. Merriweather’s words cut in.

  On her way to sit with her little entourage, Queen Wifezilla Sasha turns to the older woman and glares at her. “Excuse me?”

  “Hmmph, you ‘eard me, what ‘ave you gotten your talons in now?”

  I watch Sasha’s face as a slow grin spreads across her pink lipglossed lips. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “It wasn’t out of the kindness out of your ‘eart, that’s for sure,” Mrs. Merriweather responds coolly.

  Sasha’s grin gets broader. “You’re right, it had absolutely nothing to do with my heart.”

  “I bet. Just don’t be causing trouble where you ‘ave no business,” Mrs. Merriweather warns Sasha.

  Queen Wifezilla peers at me and Rock over her shoulder and studies us. She makes no qualms about staring, and the seconds extend to a ridiculously long pause. Finally, she replies, “Trouble can’t happen unless it’s invited, old woman.”

  “The devil comes in many disguises,” Mrs. Merriweather comments quietly.

  Sasha laughs.

  Bitch!

  “Will you come and talk to me at the shop, Summer? Or is there somewhere we can talk in private here?” Rock hasn’t moved from the spot he planted himself next to me behind the counter.

  “There’s nothing to say. Now, is there something you’d like?” I don’t look at him. I can’t. He’d see the pain, the anger, and the humiliation in my eyes.

  I will never let that happen.

  It was just sex, Summer.

  Mind blowing, earth rocking, toe curling sex, topped with tenderness and what I thought was sincerity sex.

  “Goddammit,” he growls.