The Colour of Mermaids

by Catherine Curzon

  “I haven’t seen you naked yet,” he purred. “How long can you stay?”

  “Tonight? I haven’t anywhere dash to, and no one to go home to.” Eva lifted her head to kiss the end of his nose. An affectionate gesture which she might have bestowed to annoy him three days ago. “I’m all yours, for as long as you like.”

  Daniel blinked, something in his expression entirely taken aback for just a split second. Whether that was in response to the kiss or her answer, Eva didn’t know, and he blinked again, clearing the look from his face. Then he kissed her, the gentle touch of his lips growing more heated by the second.

  Eva removed her hand from his chest and caught him about the wrist as he teased her nipple. She guided it to the hem of her blouse and began to lift it off over her head. “I want to feel you against me,” she whispered.

  He drew the blouse higher and threw it aside then shrugged out of his jacket and let it fall. Eva caught his gaze, no longer hidden by the Wayfarers, and saw a spark of fresh desire there. Then he sank down against her body, the heat of his naked skin pressed to her breasts. His hand thrust harder and his thumb massaged her, driving her on. Eva drew one arm around him, holding him tight to her as she arched again with pleasure. She still stroked his erection with her other hand, and how they were lying now, it was against her thigh. With little trouble from either of them, he would be inside her.

  “Now? I’ve brought condoms, by the way.” Eva wasn’t sure what he’d think of the plural, but it showed willing, at least.

  “So did I.” He jerked his head over his shoulder. “Back pocket, help yourself.”

  Because Daniel was busy, after all, one hand thrusting against her body, the other arm wrapped around her shoulders to embrace her.

  Feeling blissfully wanton, Eva stroked over his firm buttocks and slid her hand into the back pocket of his trousers. By touch alone, Eva estimated there were three or four condoms in there. She produced one, and with efficiency that surprised her, slid it onto Daniel’s erection.

  Daniel withdrew his hand and reached up for his sunglasses. She knew that he was about to drop them onto his nose again, but he paused, then left them in his hair. Without removing what was left of his own rumpled suit or even Eva’s skirt, Daniel shifted over her and the tip of his erection brushed her body. His breath was warm on her throat as he kissed her.

  Eva caressed his buttocks again, then grasped them and, with a moan, she lifted her hips up from the bed, meeting his erection and taking it inside her. “Fuck me, darling,” she urged. He reached down and caught his arm beneath her knee, lifting her leg high around his waist as he made a fierce thrust of his body, a moan of exertion escaping his pouting lips. Then he dropped his mouth to Eva’s, tracing the fingers that had been inside her over their lips.

  Eva raised her other leg and looped it around his middle, and with that he filled her completely. She could taste herself, and she could taste him, and she felt the heat of his body all over her, his bare torso pressed against her. She moved against him, more hungry for him now than she had been during that first encounter.

  And she could see him, as she had wanted to. Could look into that glittering black gaze, could see the fire there, the passion, and she knew then that there had been no coke tonight. This was Daniel Scott, Mr Carswell, and it was intoxicating.

  She stroked through his hair, then caught his face in her hands, steadying him and gazing into him. What had he been so afraid of her seeing? She could see nothing to fear, only excitement.

  His chest rose and fell with exertion, the faintest sheen of perspiration on his skin. He flicked the tip of his tongue over his lips and whispered, “Didn’t I tell you there’s nobody there?”

  Eva kissed him. “I can see a wonderful man in there. Exciting…funny…very sexy… He’s just the kind of man I like and I’m so glad I’ve met him.”

  “I’m just sorry I missed you at the Tate Modern.” Daniel quirked one cheeky eyebrow then thrust his hips again and dipped his head to scatter kisses over Eva’s jaw and throat. His mouth moved lower until he could caress his lips over the swell of her breasts, his breath warm on her skin.

  “You’ll just have to—” A shiver of pleasure ran through Eva and she moaned before continuing, “catch my retrospective at the South Bank!”

  “I’ll expect a comp and a glass of red at the very least.” With that, Daniel drew Eva’s nipple into his mouth. His tongue circled the stiffened bud, tasting her, the intensity of his movements increasing. With his head lowered to her body, she could see her reflection in the sunglasses, wanton and abandoned.

  Eva tipped her hips back to take him inside her as deeply as she could. The heat of their bodies had amplified the spicy scents of their perfumes. “If you’re very lucky, there might be fellatio at the private viewing.”

  “I haven’t forgotten my promise.” He drew the tip of his tongue over her nipple. “I still want to taste you tonight.”

  His energy was electrifying. Most men would be ready to fall into a heap by now, yet the indefatigable Daniel Scott was already planning his later moves. “Good. I want to feel your tongue on me.”

  “That perfume you wear has been following me around,” he told her breathlessly. “You’re haunting me.”

  “I wondered why the bottle was nearly empty!” Eva laughed. She bent her face to his neck and inhaled. “Mmm…whatever your cologne is, it’s divine. It just screams Naughty artist, exceptional at fucking.”

  “Exceptional at everything,” he clarified, touching the tip of his nose to hers. It was a curiously intimate gesture, even given everything they had so far shared. “Though I think you had a few notes for me before?”

  “Still do.” She grinned. Moments later a warmth spread through her, the delicious prelude to only one thing. Eva moaned, “You’re making me come…”

  His reply was to increase his pace just a little, just enough to push her closer to the edge. Eva felt the change in his muscles too, a tension beneath the skin like a string pulling taut. His eyes had closed with the last thrust, but now they opened again and settled on her, filled with fire.

  It seemed that he wanted to see the moment, and Eva was so aroused that he must’ve seen quite the show. The warmth that filled her flowed like waves, building in intensity until it was almost too much to bear. But at just that moment, it shivered and grew until Eva’s sigh turned into a moan, louder and louder as bliss took her over.

  Surely it wasn’t possible for him to be any deeper inside her than he was now, and Daniel threw his head back. She was vaguely aware of the sunglasses tumbling against her feet and down onto the bed. Then he gave a groan of ecstasy and exertion, each muscle tight and defined as pleasure swept through them and they left the world behind.

  Eva clung to him, feeling every last shudder of his orgasm as it faded away. She kissed his face and rumpled his hair, unable to tear her gaze from his. “The desk was fun, but you can’t beat energetic hanky-panky on a bed, can you?”

  “Hanky-panky?” He gave a soft laugh and shifted onto the bed beside Eva. In the moment before he settled back onto the pillows, Daniel reached out and pulled her skirt down just a little, the gesture as uncharacteristically sweet as it was pointless. There was no preserving Eva Catseby’s modesty now, not that she minded. Besides, Daniel was anything but modest beside her, his shirt and trousers opened and in complete disarray, sweat glistening on his skin.

  “Smoke?” he asked. “Don’t worry about the alarm, it won’t go off.”

  “I might have a puff or two, if there’s one going.” Eva rolled onto her side to look at him. He really was adorable, once he’d allowed her past that egotistical outer crust. Not that she’d tell him that. For a few seconds he frowned, as though trying to figure out exactly what that smile might mean. Then, very slowly, as though his face wasn’t used to trying it, Daniel returned the smile.

  “Do you—” And she saw again the gesture he had made unconsciously at the party as Daniel brushed his thumb over the
tip of his nose. “Or just a cigarette?”

  “To be honest, mainly Earl Grey tea.” Eva ruffled his hair. “Answer me something. After that incredible sex, what can coke do to top it? Don’t you feel amazing already?”

  “Are you outreaching?” His tone was friendly, teasing again. “Just say no?”

  She grabbed one of the pillows and playfully poked him with it. “I’m just curious, really. I’ve never, ever done coke. It’s an alien concept to me. I smoked a bit of a weed at art college. Doesn’t everyone? But coke never really crossed my path.”

  “It’s been”—he drew in a thoughtful breath, then decided—“helpful.”

  “Ahhh, I see… Helpful in a…” Eva paused. Should she bring it up? But he’d obviously been through something horrible in his time, because where else would all those hellscapes have come from? “I’m not prying, by the way. I just want to understand. Do you mean, in a self-medicating way?”

  “I don’t give interviews,” he informed her carefully, and sat up to retrieve his fallen sunglasses. Into his hair they went, safe again. “So, Earl Grey for the critic. Are you hungry?”

  “Champagne and a fag wouldn’t go amiss.” Eva wished she hadn’t said anything. They barely knew each other. Sex was one thing—opening up old wounds was something else entirely. “I haven’t had any dinner, actually. Do they do food here, then?”

  “Doesn’t everywhere if you’re paying for it?” Daniel climbed off the bed and dipped into his pocket to drop the handful of remaining condoms onto the table beside the bed. Then he picked up his jacket from the floor. It took a moment of rooting before he retrieved a packet of cigarettes and tossed them across to Eva. She caught it, watching Daniel cross to the bathroom door. “Help yourself. I’ll be two minutes.”

  Eva opened the packet and tapped out a cigarette and a lighter. She sparked up, then got off the bed. The carpet was thick and soft under her bare feet. She pulled a throw from a chair and draped it around her.

  How exceptionally decadent this all is.

  She wandered over to the huge windows and looked down at the seafront, and wondered if anyone had heard their cries of ecstasy. The bathroom door creaked open and she turned to see Daniel, completely naked now, his feet still spattered with paint. Eva made no attempt to hide the fact that she was taking in the sight of his unashamed nudity.

  As she exhaled a cloud of smoke, she said, “Turn around, I want to see your arse.”

  And of course he did, turning his back to her and resting his hands on his hips.

  “What’s the feedback from the critics this time?”

  Sounding decidedly fruity as she took in his firm, shapely bottom, Eva remarked, “The private view does not disappoint. Classic use of shape and line, boldly reinterpreted for a twenty-first century audience. Audacious. And perky.”

  And, she knew when he turned to face her again, entirely without the influence of narcotics. So the trip to the bathroom had been just that, a chance to freshen up, not a stolen opportunity to do a line or two. He roamed his gaze over Eva, taking in the skirt, the draped throw, her tousled hair and the slight flush she knew would be on her skin. Then he asked, “Any thoughts on room service?”

  As he waited for her response, Daniel retrieved their forgotten champagne glasses and held Eva’s out to her again. He was utterly confident in his nudity, in displaying that toned, slightly tanned body with paint-spattered feet. And he still wasn’t wearing his sunglasses.

  Eva took the glass and passed him the half-smoked cigarette with its smudge of lipstick on the filter.

  “Something elegant, or something hearty?” She softly pressed her lips to his cheek. “Have you worked up quite an appetite?”

  Daniel took a long drag on the cigarette and exhaled a smoke ring, the expression on his face thoughtful. Finally he decided, “You should choose. We’ll get another bottle too.”

  Eva picked up the telephone, which stood on the table by the bed. No bland production-line plastic phone here—it looked like a brass antique. She flipped through a folder beside it. “Is there a menu, or do we order the most exciting thing we can imagine?”

  “You’re an artist.” His voice was a murmur, his gaze travelling over her again. Then he plucked his sunglasses from his hair and reached across to put them on the table. “Use your imagination.”

  Conscious of his gaze, Eva reclined on the bed again. She rang down to reception and her call was answered in one ring. “This is room number seven,” Eva informed the polished receptionist in a giggle. “We need food.”

  “And massage oil,” Daniel instructed, as though that was the easiest thing for room service to supply. Then he rested one knee on the edge of the bed and reached beneath the throw to untie the bow that held her skirt in place. With a simple gesture from his elegant fingers, the wrapped fabric fell away and he drew it from beneath her.

  “Of course,” the receptionist replied. “What can we get for you?”

  Eva almost dropped the handset. She had never been stripped while talking on the phone before. And—massage oil?

  “Hang on,” she told the receptionist, and cupped her hand over the phone while stroking Daniel’s side with her toes. “You’re a saucy one. Won’t she ask me what scent?”

  “If she does, answer her.” Daniel took Eva’s free hand and raised her arm to rest on the pillow, carefully sliding her fingers into her hair. Then he gently brought her elbow down a little, relaxing her muscles. He whispered, “Play with your hair while you’re talking, the fingers need to be right.”

  “What are you—?” Eva could hear the receptionist cough politely at the end of the phone. She went back to the phone call, twisting a length of her hair around her finger. Her eyes didn’t leave Daniel’s. “Hello, sorry about that, I got distracted. Well, could we have something with a cream sauce? A rich one, with wine in it. And poured over pasta, but a delicate sort, like angel hair. And in the sauce…seafood. And as a side order, a fresh baguette with lots of unsalted butter. Another bottle of champagne, too, and…” Eva was blushing, she could feel the heat in her face. “And a bottle of massage oil.”

  “Any particular scent?” the receptionist asked, just as Eva had hoped she wouldn’t.

  “That’s it,” Daniel mouthed, holding up his hand as he reached to discard the cigarette into the ice bucket. He whispered, “Keep your hand just there.”

  Eva did as he said. “Nothing relaxing,” she told the receptionist. “Something spicy and exciting.”

  Like Daniel Scott.

  “Of course!” The receptionist’s voice was full of enthusiasm and, not for the first time, Eva wondered at this establishment. As she asked, “Anything else, madam?”, Daniel took the throw and draped it over her like a blanket, careless, frowning as he began to arrange it, using it to conceal and reveal her skin in turn.

  Faced with what might be an infinite choice, Eva was very tempted to be saucy herself and ask for a blindfold. But she didn’t want to lose sight of Daniel, or to cover up his eyes now that she could see them. “No, that’s everything. For now. Thanks.”

  She clicked the phone into its cradle. “Are you posing me, The Celebrated Daniel Scott?”

  “When I look at you, what I see is so right that I can’t—” He raked his hand through his hair and stood back from the bed, his eyes narrowed in concentration. “I can’t capture it. As soon as I move your hand, so much as your finger, you lose you.”

  Daniel returned to kneel beside her. With a flamboyant flourish he pulled back the throw, leaving her naked again. “Show me Eva Catesby, as she sees herself, at her most beautiful.”

  “I’m not sure. Does that sound silly?” Eva sat up and looped her arms around Daniel’s neck. “I was a life model on and off while I was a student. I got so used to being instructed how to sit or stand or lie that I really wouldn’t know how to pose without you telling me what you want. Unless I happen to be doing something else, not thinking about it. Although…”

  She lay back down again a
nd drew her arm above her head just as she had done earlier. “There. I did that on purpose earlier because I wanted to tempt you with a fine bosom!”

  He smiled, and Eva saw the shadow that had settled over his gaze lift. It was as though someone had turned a light on, his whole face losing that look of frustrated concentration.

  “That’s exactly what I’m trying to capture,” he told her, his tone rich with enthusiasm. “Now get as comfortable as you can. You’re with your lover, you’re sensual and completely free. There’s no world out there, there’s just here. If you want to cover yourself, do. I want you to be you, not a construct by Daniel Scott.”

  Eva was more than happy to go along with what he wanted. Not that she had to do much. She tilted her hips slightly and drew the throw just over her thigh, making herself no less naked than she had been without it. As she relaxed, she saw the excitement in him, and she wondered if he would challenge his own art by painting from life. But a smiling lover didn’t seem to fit into the Daniel Scott method.

  Oh, but it’s fun to try.

  “All right, I’m ready. How’s this?”

  “Perfect,” he breathed. “Don’t move.”

  “Have you brought an easel and paints?” Eva giggled.

  “No.” He scooped up the folder from beside the telephone and tore a handful of pages from it. “But I have paper and a biro, that’s all I need for now.”

  “I never went to bed with any of the artists I posed for,” Eva told him, as she lay as still as she could. “This is new for me too.”

  “Does it feel different?” He took a pen from the desk, where it had rested beside a small notepad, and positioned the torn pages atop the folder. Then he turned one of the armchairs to face the bed. “Do you think it’ll change how I draw you?”

  “Yes, it does feel different.” She caught herself about to nod and stopped. “And maybe it will change how you draw me. Because you’ve touched me. I’m not an abstraction of shape and colour, but living flesh. You know how my skin feels.”