by Grey, Sadie
Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
Author Info
Naked Canvas
(An Alpha Billionaire Romance)
by
Sadie Grey
&
Emma Fisher
Copyright 2016 SADIE GREY
All Rights Reserved
All of the hot, sexy, and naughty characters in this story are entirely fictional, NOT related by blood, and are consenting adults over the age of nineteen.
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***
Chapter 1
The room was quiet and still, as if the world was holding its breath.
I certainly was.
I clasped the silk robe tightly closed with trembling hands. The smooth fabric felt heavenly against my naked skin. In different circumstances, I would have savored the luxurious feeling of it, but at that moment, all it did was remind me of what I was about to do.
Come on, Angie, I told myself. You’ve got this.
I took a deep breath and stepped through the circle of seated art students. Their chairs were pointed inward, facing a small raised platform in the center of the high-ceilinged room. Each student sat in front of an easel which held a big pad of paper. I wiped a thin sheen of sweat from my forehead and stepped onto the platform.
All eyes in the room turned to look at me.
Thick golden light filtered in through the windows lining the wall. Motes of dust floated in the amber beams. The room felt too bright. I already felt exposed and I hadn’t even taken off the robe.
I chewed my bottom lip and found myself eyeing the exits. I could be off the platform and out of the room in seconds. No one would stop me. No one would blame me. But they also wouldn’t pay me. That simply wasn’t an option.
The professor’s loud, authoritative voice cut through the silence. “Let’s begin,” he said.
I closed my eyes and slipped the white silk robe from my shoulders. It whispered to my feet, baring my nude body for everyone in the room to see.
I tried my best to ignore the jittery feelings in my stomach and struck a pose. My dark, shoulder-length hair had been swept into a pony tail, revealing the lines of my neck. I rested my hand on my hip and bent a knee. My chin jutted proudly, and I made my eyes look fierce as I fixed my gaze towards a paint smudge on the wall.
I would let them see me naked, but I refused to let them see me afraid.
A rustling of pages sounded around me and pencils scratched on pads of paper. The ring of students studied every inch of me. Some were men and some were women, but their gender didn’t matter. They all made me uncomfortable. Their eyes danced from my body to their sketchpads, drinking me in and then pouring me onto the page.
Their expressions were indifferent. Like they were looking at a bowl of fruit or a seaside landscape. But even though they acted professional, I shivered slightly and my stomach continued to churn.
This was my first time posing nude. Up until that point, only a handful of people had seen me naked. Now a room full of people were studying my curves with critical eyes.
I never would have considered doing something like this if I hadn’t just lost my job doing filing at a law firm. My boss was kind, but times were hard, and she had to let me go. Now I needed cash quickly if I was going to be able to pay for next year’s tuition. I had already gotten student loans, but the amount wasn’t nearly enough to cover my expenses. That was the only downside to attending a prestigious private university. The cost was as impressive as the education.
What the art class was paying me would only be a drop in the bucket, but it was a big enough amount that I couldn’t say no. I tried to focus on that goal as their eyes roved over my skin and into my secret places.
Most of them seemed focused on my body but I noticed one man studying my eyes and my face. The other students just looked at me. This man actually saw me.
I met his cool blue eyes and my heart beat faster in my chest.
Dark tousled hair framed his rugged face. Stubble shaded his strong jaw. His cheeks dimpled when he smiled at me. He was gorgeous.
Warmth bloomed within me and my skin flushed crimson. I forced myself to avert my gaze from his before I lost my composure entirely.
He was out of sight but not out of mind. Even though I no longer looked at him, I kept seeing his face. I imagined the rasp of that stubble against my skin. I could almost feel his intelligent hands as they traced my curves like the hands of a sculptor.
My nipples hardened into points and my legs began to tremble ever so slightly. I became acutely aware of all the people watching me. I wondered if they noticed my arousal. To my surprise, the thought turned me on even more.
I didn’t know how much longer I would be able to hold that pose if my thoughts continued down that path. The art students would get a real show then.
“Time!” the professor called out.
I knelt quickly and gathered the robe around me gratefully, feeling secure again now that I was covered up. I rolled my neck to loosen the knot that had formed there and got to my feet. The tension in the air disappeared and I could breathe normally again.
The next robed model approached the platform. He was a thick, brawny man. His robe barely closed over his barrel chest. I stepped down from the dais and walked past the circle of students. My eyes gazed steadfastly at the floor.
I ducked into the dressing room and leaned against the wall with my eyes closed. Shame and exhilaration pulsed within me. I had done it. Despite my fears about my less than perfect body. Despite all the voices in my head screaming no. I had done it.
Those fifteen minutes had been agonizing. And yet, a part of me had definitely enjoyed it. Enjoyed it to the point where I had gotten physically excited.
A flush crept over my cheeks. What had taken hold of me out there? No. Not what, but who? I knew exactly who had elicited those feelings from me. His blue eyes still burned in my soul as if they had captured a part of me and refused to let go.
I shook my head to clear it and hurried to put my regular clothes on. My simple cotton underwear went on first, followed by my jeans and a heavy sweatshirt. These clothes were a far cry from the sumptuous silk robe, but they were comfortable and familiar. I was back to my old self again. Whatever had happened out there, I was just glad it was over. I could get paid and get out and put the whole thing behind me.
But I didn’t leave.
I lingered on the edges of the group and watched the students work. I was all thumbs when it came to drawing so seeing them turn pencil lead into living, breathing figures on the page was magical.
I found myself drifting over to Mr. Blue Eyes. I wondered if his sketches were as good-looking as he was. There was no way. No one could be that attractive and talented. Life couldn’t be that unfair.
I stood behind him and leaned in to get a closer look at his drawing. The scent of him tickled my nost
rils. He smelled like cinnamon and something citrusy. I found myself leaning closer and breathing him in greedily, intoxicated by the essence of him.
His hands moved skillfully across the paper on his easel. The model he currently sketched was the squat, brutish man that looked like he could grace the cover of a bodybuilding magazine. But the drawing I looked at had redefined the man somehow. It brought out the fire in his eyes. It brought out the determination in his shoulders and in the set of his jaw. The artist had taken a lump of a man and made him graceful. Almost delicate.
“What do you think?” Mr. Blue Eyes asked without turning around.
He caught me off guard. I hadn’t realized he’d noticed me watching him draw. I thought I’d been sneaky. I spoke without thinking.
“You’re amazing.”
He did turn around then, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
The heat rose in my cheeks. I found myself flustered and stammering.
“I mean, the drawing. It’s, well, it’s gorgeous.”
He ran his thick fingers through his messy hair and turned back to look at his drawing. “You think so?”
“Yeah. I love it.”
He flashed a grin at me, and my heart thudded in my chest.
“Can I see the one you did of me?” I asked.
He tilted his head uncertainly and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “Are you sure you want to see it?”
My heart sank. “Why, did I look that bad?” I asked in a quiet voice.
“Not at all. I thought you were great. I’m just not sure you’ll like it.”
“Please. I want to see it.” I flashed him my best doe eyes and batted my eyelashes at him.
He rolled his eyes and laughed. “How could I say no to that face? Here.”
He flipped the page in the large sketch pad. The muscle man disappeared, and there I was, staring myself in the face.
My breath caught in my throat and my hand flew to my mouth.
He sighed. “You don’t like it?”
I shook my head. He laughed ruefully to himself.
“Yeah, I knew I shouldn’t have shown it to you.”
I shook my head more fervently. “No, it’s not that. It’s just, you made me beautiful.”
And he really had. The woman on the page was clearly me, but it was not the me I saw when I looked in the mirror. All my rough edges had been smoothed over. The parts of my body that I hated were on display, but instead of being unpleasant, they were elegant parts of a whole. They combined to form the image of a confident, sexy woman.
This version of me looked like how I felt on my best days. The days when I felt in sync with the rhythms of the world. When I was swimming with the current instead of against it. He had looked inside of me and found my favorite me and had somehow laid it out on the page.
Emotion welled in my breast and tears stung my eyes.
“Oh, hey,” he said, standing up. His eyebrows furrowed together. “Are you alright?”
I sniffed and nodded, feeling foolish for getting so emotional. “Yes. Sorry. I just love it.”
“Don’t cry.” He reached out and wiped a tear from my cheek with his thumb. His touch was electric. “I'll tell you what. It’s yours.”
“What?” I smiled and wiped at my eyes. “No. I couldn’t.”
“I won’t take no for an answer.”
I smiled. “Thank you. But let me pay for it, at least. Wait, scratch that. I don’t have any money.”
“I couldn’t take your money, even if you had it. The fact that you like it is payment enough.”
“I feel bad though. I should give you something.”
He tapped a finger to his full lips. Lips that any woman would be lucky to kiss.
“How about this? Pose for me again.”
I looked at my feet. “I don’t know. This was really a one-time thing.”
“You didn’t like modeling?” he asked, frowning.
“It’s definitely out of my comfort zone.”
“Nonsense. You looked totally natural up there. Trust me. You did better than most of the models that come through here.”
I shuffled my feet from side to side, feeling uncomfortable and flattered all at the same time. “Sorry.” I said. “It’s just not for me.”
“I would, of course, pay you for your time.”
I bit my lip and considered it. I could use the money. With a heavy sigh, I shook my head. “No. It’s tempting, but I think my modeling career is over.”
His shoulders slumped, and he nodded. “That’s a shame, but I understand.”
He carefully tore the page from the pad with my image on it. He flipped the page over, and, on the back, he wrote down a phone number.
“Here,” he said, handing it to me. “If you change your mind, give me a call.”
“I won’t. But thank you.”
He put his hand out. “I’m Dominic, by the way. Dominic Bell.”
“Angela,” I said, shaking his hand.
He smiled. “Fitting. Please promise me you’ll think about it.”
I laughed and shook my head. “Fine. I'll think about it. Thanks again for the drawing.”
“Thank you for being my inspiration.”
I turned and walked away, but I was sure I could feel him watching me go.
Chapter 2
Cool night air drifted in through the window of my cramped apartment, carrying with it the vibrant sounds of the city. The hum of rushing cars. The bubbling up of anonymous laughter. The strains of an old jazz recording sauntering through the night.
When I had first moved here two years before, it had all been noise to me. It kept me awake at night as I huddled beneath my covers. Now it was a lullaby that sung me to sleep. I couldn’t imagine ever going back to my little, dusty town in the sticks. Not when I knew a place like this existed.
But that’s exactly what would happen if I couldn’t find a way to earn some money for next year. I sighed as my eyes prowled over the help wanted ads in the newspaper. Everything seemed to require experience, and experience was something that I was sorely lacking. I flung the paper to the linoleum tiles in disgust.
I should have been studying instead of worrying about money problems. The spring semester had ended and my first final was just days away. All my money problems would mean nothing if I failed all my classes and got kicked out of school.
Still, I couldn’t focus. I was a worrier by nature, always fretting over tomorrow instead of enjoying today. It was a helpful quality that kept me motivated and always reaching for that brass ring, but at a time like this, it made it impossible to concentrate on my immediate problems instead of my future ones.
I found myself drawn back to Dominic’s sketch. It rested on the cluttered table in my living room. I had been forced to clear books and binders and old food wrappers to make space for it. I only had the one table. It was all I could fit into my tiny apartment and it doubled as a dinner table and work desk.
My pulse quickened every time I remembered myself standing on the dais a few days ago with my body on display. It was something I could have never done before I came to the city. The old me would have run screaming from the merest suggestion of getting nude for strangers. Hell, even now, I could hardly believe I’d gone through with it.
I had been floating all day afterward, feeling thrilled and proud and excited. I had never really thought of myself as brave, but I knew it took real bravery to bare my body like that.
Then the spell had worn off and grim reality had set back in. I still needed money. A lot of money. I was on my own with no one to turn to for help. I had to find work or the new life I had built for myself would come crashing down around me.
But instead of job hunting or studying, I couldn’t stop looking at the drawing of me. I couldn’t stop staring at the version of me that Dominic saw. It was by far the most beautiful thing in my apartment, including my actual self. It was a ray of light in the crowded darkness. I thought about framing it, but I didn’t have the money
for that.
Besides, I liked holding it in my hands. I liked feeling the rough texture of the paper. I traced my finger over the lines and felt a connection with the man who made it. Dominic. His signature graced the bottom corner of the page in bold, swirling loops.
Part of me wanted to show it off to the world, to my friends and family, and to anyone who would look at it. To point at it and say, “See? This is who I really am!”
But I didn’t want them to see my nakedness or for them to know that I had posed nude at all. Some people could be so prudish. Besides, there was something nice about having it all to myself.
