by Grey, Sadie
I looked at him confused. He held a finger up to me, motioning for me to hold on. He smeared a big blob of green paint on the end of his paint brush and swabbed it on my arm. The paint was cold on my skin and I shivered. He painted big winding loops down the length of my arm towards my shoulder.
The motion tickled me. He was doing it on purpose. To my surprise, my entire body responded. The mood shifted in the room, and I was suddenly very aware of how naked I was.
The brush dipped into the green paint again and he trailed it down my shoulder and around the edge of my breast. He swept the brush in a coil around my breast and then onto it. He teased my flesh in a tightening spiral until the slick brush was circling my nipple. My breath caught in my throat and my back arched. The swirling brush felt glorious against my skin. I didn’t want him to ever stop. When he did, disappointment surged through me.
I looked at him, silently begging him to continue. He got a stern look on his face and grabbed a black candle from the table and circled around the bed. My muscles clenched as I prepared myself for what he was about to do.
The candle tipped and a line of blazing pain ignited on my skin from my wrist to my elbow. My eyes slammed shut. I hissed between my teeth and the sound turned to a moan as the wax cooled and the pain disappeared. My wrists strained against their bonds and my breathing turned ragged.
My eyes opened and he studied my face. There was a silent question in his eyes. I nodded. He poured a zigzagging wave of wax along the sensitive skin between my elbow and shoulder. The fire was more intense on this part of my body. The pain was greater, but so was the relief upon its departure.
My body squirmed against the bed, and I felt myself getting wet. His eyes were on mine again. They shimmered in the candlelight. I nodded again.
A flare of bright pain erupted on my breast. I cried out with a mixture of agony and ecstasy. My body felt electric. All of my senses heightened. The dazzling torment reminded me that I was alive.
I looked up at him, unsure what was going to happen next. He stared down at me with satisfaction.
“I guess I know which one you like better.”
I said nothing and let the mixture of emotions roll through me like the tides. I wanted more. I felt the sting of frustration at being denied further pleasure.
“What’s next?” I asked between heaving breaths.
“We’re almost done. Lie still.”
He lifted a thick roll of canvas from beside the bed and laid it over my ankles. “Hold very still.”
He unrolled the canvas so that it was flush against my body. It rolled up and up until it covered my shoulders and arms.
“I need to make sure everything transfers to the canvas. Do not move.”
He pressed the canvas to my skin with his hands. He started at my ankles and worked his way up. With nothing but the canvas between us, his touch was electric. I realized I had been craving that touch. I wanted to feel his skin against mine. To feel his lips and his strong arms.
His hands roved over my body. Up my hips and over my sex. As light as his touch was, a thrill shot through my throbbing core when his hands passed over it. I forced myself to remain still. I didn’t want to ruin the painting.
He pressed against my breasts. The canvas scratched maddeningly against my nipples. My body filled with yearning. Every part of me clenched with desire.
He continued up to my arms before making one final pass over my entire body. He stroked me in several big sweeping motions, lighting a fire over my entire being.
He gently pulled the canvas away, and I watched him with barely restrained desperation. He seemed not to notice. He held up the canvas so that I could look at it. The paint had transferred nicely. So had the dye in the wax. I could see the outline of my body clearly at the edge of the paint, like I was an invisible background. Both part of it and all of it. The effect was quite striking.
He moved away from me and hung the canvas over a rack to dry.
I tried to still the urgency screaming inside me as he loosened my wrist restraints. I sat up when I was free and massaged my forearms. Then he unbound my ankles before turning back to the paints beside the bed.
“That went well,” he said. “You make a great canvas and a great subject.” He ran his hand through his dark, messy hair. “You should go clean up. The paint is acrylic so it will wash off with soap and water. We’re finished for now.”
I jumped out of bed and wrapped my arms around him from behind. “We’re not finished yet,” I said, my voice thick with desire.
His body tensed up at my touch. “Angela, what are you doing?”
I pushed my breasts firmly against his back. My hands stroked his powerful chest. “I have some art of my own to make. Tell me, how does this make you feel? Be honest.”
My hand trailed down his chest to the bulge in his pants, and I caressed him. I felt him harden as blood rushed to his member.
His breath hitched in his throat. “We can’t do this.”
“Yes, we can,” I said, running my hand over his length.
“But I promised,” he said. “No sex today.”
“This isn’t sex,” I whispered. “This is art. So whatever you’re feeling is the right feeling.”
He turned in my arms so that we were face to face. I leaned my body into his so that his erection pressed against my aching sex. A small moan escaped my lips at the feeling of it. I raised myself up to kiss him.
He put a finger to my lips, stopping my momentum. “No,” he said firmly.
I took a step back from him, frustration welling up inside me. My hands ran over my curves, blurring the remnants of the images he had painted on me. “Dominic, I want you. Promises be damned.”
His eyes roved over my body. I could see the strain on his face.
“I can’t,” he said and turned toward the door.
“Don’t you want me anymore?” I screamed at him.
He paused with his hand on the doorknob, without looking back. “Go take a shower. We have more work to do.”
The door swung open, bathing the room in harsh daylight. Then he was gone.
Chapter 15
I lost myself in the shower’s warm embrace. Steaming water kissed my flesh, and I slowly turned my body beneath the soothing flow, letting it caress every inch of me. Knots of tension drained from my tired limbs, but it did nothing to wash away my tangled thoughts.
I was the one who had insisted there would be no sex today. Then I stupidly tried to seduce Dominic. The fact that I had broken my own rule was bad enough, but the fact that he rejected my advances made me feel even worse. I felt like a fool, and I wasn’t sure if I could face him again, even though I had almost fifteen more hours to go.
Even aside from my failed attempt at seduction, he had me all twisted up inside. Every time I thought I knew what was happening, the world shifted around me.
I tumbled through a midnight world of wild abandon. A world beyond my limits and through the looking glass. A place where I had no more secrets. Dominic ripped away the mask I wore for the world and for myself. It was liberating and terrifying.
I felt like a different person now. I could feel the change just as surely as I felt the water cascading down my back. I just wasn’t sure if I was changing for the better.
I grabbed a bar of soap from the edge of the tub and started scrubbing away the images painted on my skin. It was clear that today was not about creating any traditional forms of art. Today, I was the canvas. I was the sculpture. I was his newest creation. And as the red numbers of the twenty-four hour countdown clock spun inevitably closer to zero, I had to wonder.
What will I look like at the end of the day?
I pushed those thoughts away and lathered the soap on my skin. All my uncertainties and anxieties could wait. I just wanted to enjoy this moment of peace before I went back out there and faced whatever was coming. For now, I was alone in the eye of the storm.
And then I wasn’t.
I couldn’t explain what
happened, exactly, but I sensed a change in the air. Some shift in the energy. A tingling on my skin.
“Hello?” I called out, immediately feeling foolish.
There was no response other than the tinkling splash of water and the swirling of steam. I shook my head and chided myself for being paranoid.
Then the shower curtain was yanked sideways. Cool air assaulted my skin. I flinched and my arms flew to cover my breasts and my sex. Dominic stood outside the shower, cloaked in mist.
“What the hell?” I cried out.
He looked at me with his blue eyes. They traced the slick curves of my body. He made no secret of it.
“Uh, excuse me,” I said. “I’m trying to shower, thank you very much.”
“We need to talk,” he said.
“So you decided that now would be a good time?”
“Do you want me to leave?” he asked.
I thought about it. I did and I didn’t. I was pissed off at him for rejecting me, but I was also glad that he had shown restraint, even when I hadn’t. I wasn’t exactly comfortable having him watch me while I was in the shower, but after that bitter sting of rejection, I felt a certain amount of satisfaction knowing that he still wanted to see me naked. I’ve always been self-conscious about how I look, and there was a simple pleasure in having a man this gorgeous openly admiring me.
“You can stay,” I said finally. “But try not to stare.”
“Why?” he asked.
I turned my back to him. “It makes me uncomfortable.”
“You have no reason to be embarrassed.”
“I don’t care. It’s just not proper.”
“Just pretend I’m not here.”
“Right. Like that’s possible.”
I lathered up my hands again. If it was possible to shower angrily, I did it. I rubbed my body with the soap in quick, brisk movements, and I kept my back to him. Still, I could feel his eyes roving across my skin with an almost physical touch.
“About before,” he said quietly. “I had to say no. I hope you understand that.”
I continued showering and said nothing.
“I made you a promise,” he said. “And I intend to keep it. I hope you’re not upset.”
I was upset, but I didn’t want to say it. My continued silence was answer enough.
“The irony of the situation is that I’ve been encouraging you to take risks, and when you finally did, I had to say no. It’s unfortunate, but it had to be done. You may have been the one to ask for the no sex rule, but when I envisioned how this day would go, sex was always off the table. Sex complicates things too much. What you and I are working on is more important than sex.”
I didn’t know if I believed him or not, but I knew if I argued with him, he would just find a way to show me I was wrong. I felt like he’d been doing that all day. The man had a way with words that I couldn’t compete with. I’d never win a verbal argument, but perhaps I could try a different tactic to test out his devotion to the no sex rule.
I twisted my body sideways a bit, just enough so that he could see more than just my back. I rubbed the soap along my arms in smooth, lingering motions, stroking up and down my wet skin. I didn’t know much about being sexy so I imagined that my hands were his. Where would I want him to touch me?
My fingers trailed over my breasts, charting winding circles between them and teasing my nipples until they hardened. Suds dripped down my body. I arched my back and thrust my chest out while I continued to caress myself.
I risked a glance at him. His eyes were glued to me with a hungry expression. Despite the warmth of the water, I felt a shiver run through me. I said nothing, but I silently cheered. I could tell I was having an effect on him. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. My hands explored my body while he watched. I was feeling the effects, too, to be honest. My pulse quickened and a quiet moan escaped my lips, barely audible over the sound of the water pouring down on me.
I opened my eyes and looked at him. The intent expression on his face elicited a coy smile from me. My body turned to face him fully. My hands danced down my breasts to my stomach to my hips. I placed one foot on the edge of the tub exposing the soapy spot between my legs. His eyes drank in the sight of me.
I leaned forward and placed my hands on my ankle. My breasts hung full and heavy in front of me. My hands massaged my ankle slowly, then my calf, then trailed up to my knee and to my thigh and in between my legs. I let them linger there, stroking myself.
My fingers toyed with my slit. I looked at Dominic through half-lidded eyes. I could see the evidence of his arousal. My hips began to roll in time with my stroking. His eyes followed them as if hypnotized. I slid a finger inside me and he groaned with frustrated desire.
“Do you like what you see?” I asked seductively.
He nodded.
“Do you want to touch me?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to join me?”
I could see the conflict warring within him. His brow was furrowed and his neck muscles were tense. His body seemed to tremble with barely suppressed eagerness.
I moaned and bit my lip. “Do you want to join me?” I asked again.
“Absolutely,” he said and took a step towards me.
“Too bad,” I said and slammed the shower curtain shut between us.
He made an angry sound and then I heard the bathroom door slam behind him. I did a little victory dance. I knew I had made him angry, and I knew what I’d done was mean, but in that moment, it felt so good to be in control again.
I finished my shower in peaceful silence, trying to ignore the feeling of dread that sat in my stomach.
Chapter 16
I emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped snugly around my torso. Dominic was standing across the studio, staring out the window. The cool light of the afternoon lit the angles of his face. I approached him and he refused to look at me.
“Are you mad?” I asked, knowing the answer but also knowing that I had to say something.
In response, he turned his back to me.
“You see?” I asked. “Rejection hurts, no matter what the reason behind it.”
“Your rejection was cruel,” he said softly. “Mine was not.”
I sighed. It was easy to forget that even strong men like him could get their feelings hurt and pout like everyone else. I wanted to be annoyed by his moodiness, but I found it kind of adorable. It made him more human.
“I didn’t mean to be cruel,” I said.
He kept his back to me and said nothing. I traversed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around his waist. His muscles tensed at my touch. I laid my head on his back and whispered to him.
“I’m sorry, okay? I was just playing around.”
I could feel him relax. He put his hands on mine and gave them a brief squeeze.
“No,” he said with a sigh. “I hurt your feelings, and you retreated into your old defense mechanisms. You needed to be in control of the situation again. You needed to be the one to reject me.”
“I didn’t really think about what I was doing,” I said. “I just did it.”
“I know. It’s automatic for you. When things don’t go as expected, you get angry. You lash out. You need to learn to take the unexpected in stride. You need to be flexible and go with the flow.”
I pulled away from him and he turned around.
“I thought that’s what I was doing when I tried to kiss you, but you pushed me away.”
“You did,” he said. “You let your passion guide you. It was the right thing to do, but I did the right thing, too, by saying no.”
“I don’t understand you sometimes. I feel like there’s no winning with you.”
“This isn’t about winning and losing,” he said. “This isn’t a game.”
“I don’t know what this is,” I said, the heat rising in my voice.
“It’s an opportunity.”
“An opportunity for what?”
“That depends
on you. Maybe you leave here with nothing but the money. Or maybe you leave here with something more.”
“Like?”
“Like the secrets to love, life, and happiness. Or maybe just a different perspective on the world.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that I don’t need your help? I like who I am.”
“Do you?”
“I don’t know. But what gives you the right to judge me? You barely even know me.”
“I’m trying to get to know you. And I’m trying to help.”
