The Colour of Mermaids

by Catherine Curzon

  “Say it again,” he whispered, just a hint of playfulness in his words. “I like hearing it.”

  Eva deliberately pouted her lips, her eyelashes fluttering like a coquette’s. “I love you, darling. With all my heart.”

  “And I promise you won’t lose your arrogant bad boy.” Daniel pressed his lips to her and growled, “Because I still want to fuck you.”

  Eva laughed a throaty chortle. This was one reason why she loved him, that he could be so tender and yet still so utterly filthy. “Good, because I want you to! Let’s get this thing off…” She brought their joined hands to the knot on her T-shirt. With one rough tug at the fabric the knot gave way, and together they lifted the top over her head and cast it aside. Daniel slipped his arm around her and pulled her body towards him, his chest firm against the softness of her breasts.

  The straps of Eva’s bra slipped down her shoulders, and as they kissed he slid her bra off completely. Eva stroked Daniel’s torso, down to his waistband, and slipped her hand inside to encircle his erection. He clearly wanted her as much as she did him.

  “Do you ever wear underpants?” She giggled.

  “What’re underpants?”

  “You’re about to encounter some under these shorts!”

  “I always thought ladies wore lingerie,” Daniel teased in a flamboyant, rolling purr. He untied her impromptu belt and unthreaded it from around her. “Don’t spoil it for me now.”

  “Ladies wear lingerie if they know in advance that a chap intends to—” Eva gasped in anticipation of his touch, and helped him to bring down the zip. “Except I’m not a lady.”

  “You are,” he told her. “And I love you.”

  “Touch me,” Eva breathed as the unfastened shorts dropped from her hips. He slipped his hand lower, letting it rest on her bottom as they kissed again. It was almost reverential, the heat in his skin mirrored in her blood. Eva wriggled free of her knickers and returned to stroking Daniel’s erection inside his loose trousers. It didn’t matter that they were surrounded by the debris from their pizza, or that they were on the paper-strewn floor, or that they were streaked in paint. Nothing mattered besides them being together.

  “I thought I’d lost you.” His voice was a desperate whisper. “And I wanted you to see— I wanted to be a man worth loving.”

  “And you are.”

  Eva brought his trousers down lower, revealing his erection. “Lie back, darling, there’s something I need to do.”

  Daniel did as she instructed, pillowing the discarded T-shirt behind his head as he settled back onto the paint-spattered sheet. She saw the rise and fall of his chest quicken in anticipation. Eva straddled his legs and kissed him on the lips, then traced her way over his chest, down across his stomach, aware of every twitch of his body as she trailed her mouth lower and lower, finally reaching his erection. She kissed him from its base to its tip, then—for the first time—gently took it into her mouth, running her tongue around its ridge, before sinking down onto him.

  His whole body seemed to answer, from the sigh of pleasure on his lips to the arch of his back and the feeling of his elegant fingers tangling in her hair. Eva heard her name as a whisper that became a soft moan, as her lover gave himself up to her touch.

  Eva rose and fell on him, all the time stroking with her tongue, loving him. She had never been fond of the act, but now it made sense and seemed the most natural way in the world to show him how much she loved him. There was nothing forceful in the way his hand rested in her hair, stroking, and all the time she could hear his gentle groans of pleasure, the sighs of joy that her touch was drawing out. Eva held him, caressing his skin in small circles as she went on pleasuring him, until she thought there was a telltale movement in his hips.

  She raised her head and gazed into his dark eyes. “Darling, do you want to come?”

  He nodded and whispered, “I’d love to.”

  “Then you shall.” Eva smiled at him, then licked the entire length of his erection before taking him once more into her mouth. She moved a little faster against him, and as she still made love to him with her lips, she reached up to stroke his hardened nipples. Daniel’s back arched up and he gave a cry of pleasure. His fingers were against her hair again, and she felt the surge of power in his body before he orgasmed, surrendering to Eva’s touch.

  Eva gave his softening cock a final kiss, then lay beside him, her head on his shoulder and her arm over his chest. “I hope that wasn’t too bad!”

  “It was amazing,” he assured her in a soft voice. “And I’m covered in paint, but it’s worth it.”

  Eva pressed a brief but loving peck on Daniel’s lips as he drifted in his calm glow. “I’ll have to make you homemade pizza one day. It’s amazing, I promise. I mean, I know that sounds terribly domesticated, doesn’t it, and you have glitzy parties to go to here and there, but won’t it be nice to come home to an Eva Catesby special?”

  “I’ve never used the oven in this house, I live on takeout,” Daniel admitted, patting one hand against his toned stomach. “When I remember to eat at all. Are you determined to look after me?”

  “It’s about time someone did.” Eva hugged him. “If you’ll look after me?”

  “I promise to try.” He slipped his arm around her waist, strong and protective. “But I might get it wrong sometimes. I’m still learning.”

  Eva propped her head up on her elbow. “We all start somewhere, don’t we?”

  “How would you feel, Miss Catesby, about letting a paint-covered enfant terrible make love to you?”

  “Oh, Daniel…” Eva kissed him again. “You’d make me the happiest woman alive.”

  “I need to find my wallet,” he admitted. “Lots of paint in here, not so many condoms. Give me two minutes?”

  Eva kissed his shoulder as she sat up. “Two minutes. Starting now.” She grinned.

  “Back in one,” Daniel laughed, leaping to his feet. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  He crossed the studio to the door and opened it. Only then did he pause and call, “Love you!”

  Eva got up from the floor and wandered over the vast windows. She stood, looking out across the patio and the swimming pool, but the trappings of Daniel’s wealth didn’t interest her. The view of the sea caught her attention, the clouds that had begun to swell on the horizon as the evening came on, the colours that shimmered and changed before her eyes. It was a fantastic view for an artist. For anyone who wanted to be reminded that the world, despite its horrors, was still capable of astonishing beauty.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking.” Daniel’s voice was a whisper at Eva’s ear as he slipped his arm around her. Then he pressed his lips to the nape of her neck. “You look really peaceful.”

  “I was just thinking how beautiful this view is. Always changing.” Eva pointed. “See? That cloud over there was golden a minute ago, and now it’s pink. Then it’ll be purple…then…” She turned in his arms. The light had given everything in the studio, even Daniel, a delicate golden sheen.

  “I know it’s early days for us.” He raised one hand to brush Eva’s hair back behind her ear. “But one day, when you’re ready, we could make this our view?”

  “Maybe…” Eva hadn’t thought that far ahead, but the fact that he seemed to see something permanent, or at least lasting, in what they had, made her happy. “I’d like that.”

  “Our studio.” He smiled tenderly, his dark eyes reflecting the golden summer light. “I missed you every day.”

  “I missed you too. I kept wondering what you were doing, and I worried that… I didn’t know if I should ring you, so I asked Lynds to speak to your people. You don’t mind, do you?” Eva wondered now if that had been a good idea, but she had been lost as to how to help him. “Nothing specific. She told them you hadn’t been well, and would they check on you.”

  “I can’t promise you a miracle recovery, Eva.” Daniel kissed her cheek. “My life’s not been one I’d wish on anyone. I promise you, though, whatever it takes, I
’m going to get better. I’m going to see a doctor tomorrow, someone who works with this therapist I’m seeing. I want to be here when you need me.”

  “Anything you need me to do, just say, won’t you?” Eva nuzzled his neck. “Whether you need hugs or space or a naked woman posing on your chaise longue, just tell me.”

  “Right now, I just need you.” His kiss was deeper this time, his tongue softly stroking hers as they sank together.

  Eva gasped, her blood heating with passion and tenderness. She caught one leg around his and his rejuvenated erection pressed against her. “Here?” she whispered. “Against the window?”

  “Right here,” Daniel murmured, putting the wrapped condom into her palm. Then he lifted her other leg around his waist, holding her as though she were weightless. Eva tore the wrapper with her teeth, then slipped the condom onto him. She looped her arms around his neck as she gazed at him, feeling safe and loved in his arms. And very aroused.

  He was still her bad boy, Eva knew, even if the darkness, the veil that swallowed Daniel Scott, had lifted enough for him to reach out to her. This wasn’t the bad boy who snorted coke and stared out through bloodshot eyes, unseeing and uncomprehending, but the man who loved her, the man whose badness was about to be very good indeed.

  “Let’s go back to our hotel,” he purred as his erection pressed against her, teasing. “Would you like that?”

  “Oh, yes, to that room, or perhaps we could explore another?” Eva said. “I want you inside me, your wonderful hard cock.”

  “Every room,” he decided, a hard thrust bringing their bodies together. “And we’ll fuck like this in every one of them.”

  “We will, hard and deep and—” Eva’s voice was lost in a moan of pleasure at feeling him inside her once more, his powerful thrusts and the hard shape of him. She tightened her legs around him as he pressed her back against the cool glass of the window. Without the sunglasses between them she could see flecks of amber deep in his eyes, glowing and bright in the light that reflected off the ocean beyond the glass. What those eyes had seen Eva couldn’t guess, but now they were seeing only her, his body devoted to bringing them both to pleasure. The man who didn’t know what it was like to be in love was finally finding out.

  “That’s it, that’s it…” Eva sank her hands into his hair. She felt so connected to him, so close, so utterly in love. His lips were as soft as his body was hard and they moved as one, perfectly in sync in each other’s arms. The thought of them being apart now, of them being anything that wasn’t this, seemed ridiculous. They were two halves of one, and she would be there with him for the road ahead.

  What was urgent and fierce in their thrusts was loving all the same. All that hectic energy in her lover and in herself came together now as their shared heat and passion, and their breathless pleasure. They needed to make this new memory here, to banish the fire and fury of the night they’d parted. Now the studio was a place not of misery but of joy, of love and connection. Now she would think of it not with dread, but with love.

  Ripples of joy ran through Eva, increasing moment by moment with each thrust, each sigh, and every thought of how much she loved Daniel. She wasn’t going to hold back—she couldn’t have done so if she’d tried—and let desire build in her, ready to sweep her away.

  “I love how you feel,” he whispered hoarsely, his breath hot against her lips. “Everything about you, it’s—it’s pure instinct.”

  “Me?” Eva gasped. No one had ever said that to her before, but if anyone should know about instinct it was Daniel. “You’re so passionate—in everything you do. I’m addicted to it.”

  “I think that’s love,” he whispered, kissing her again as his muscles tensed, his climax racing towards him with the same breathtaking speed as her own.

  Eva held him even tighter as the ripples in her body turned into a surge and her peak took her with an intensity that stole her breath, leaving her only able to murmur her lover’s name. And all the time he was beside her, joined with her, in body and soul. For a few seconds they clung to each other, then Daniel carried Eva to the covered chaise longue and they settled there together. He quickly scooped the sunglasses onto the ground, saving them from an uncertain fate.

  Her orgasm has been so intense that she still shuddered from it, and, drunk with pleasure, she embraced him. “That really was something! I love you, darling.”

  “I love you.” He kissed her forehead, the touch soothing and peaceful. “Miss Catesby.”

  Worn out, Eva lay back on the chaise longue, relaxing into the soft cushions with Daniel’s body against hers. She closed her eyes, feeling his heartbeat and the warmth and the closeness of him as she drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Eleven

  When Eva awoke, the room was bathed in a warm amber glow. She turned over to embrace Daniel only to find herself alone. In an instant her mind filled with a hundred different scenarios, each worse than the last, and she sat up, looking around the studio for the white powder, the booze, the—

  “I didn’t want to wake you.” Daniel smiled over his shoulder then stepped back from the wall towards the chaise longue and asked, “What do you think?”

  “It’s me,” Eva murmured. “You’ve drawn me onto the wall!”

  She first kissed him, then, his hand in hers, Eva went over to the wall to touch it. “You drew me while I was asleep.”

  “No pointy bits, no sharp angles.” He smiled. “Just curves and softness. The woman I love. Do you like it?”

  Eva traced the gentle lines. “You’ve made me look beautiful—but would you mind me adding something? I’m asking your permission, I won’t dive in.”

  “Do whatever you need to do.” Daniel handed Eva the pencil, but she caught the slight deflation in him, the hint of a sigh. Then he straightened his back and told her with more confidence, “I’ll keep trying until it’s right.”

  “Oh no, I don’t mean that. I mean—will you sit on that stool over there for me? And angle your head… Like this?” Eva tipped her head slightly to the right, knowing how the light would fall across his face.

  As naked as her, he crossed to the stool and sat down, following Eva’s instructions. When he’d angled his head, he asked, “Like this?”

  “Yes, that’s perfect.” Eva rested the tip of the pencil against the white wall. Keeping her eyes mainly on him, rather than on her pencil, she drew him. Her lover, the structure of his face set off perfectly by the angle of the setting sun’s light. He was wonderful to draw, and she laughed as she sketched in his disordered shock of hair in sweeping pencil arcs. “That’s it. You’re very good at modelling, very still!”

  “There’s a very good reason for that. It’s not very noble, though,” he teased. “It’s because I’ve got your gorgeous bottom to admire while I do.”

  Eva skipped over to him and tapped him on the forehead with the pencil. “Naughty!” Then she kissed him and went back to her drawing. The minutes passed, and finally Eva tucked the pencil behind her ear and stepped back from her work. “There we are! What do you think of that?”

  Daniel rose to his feet and approached the wall, their joint mural uniting them in each other’s arms. He caught his arm around Eva’s waist and lifted one hand, pressing his palm to the drawing.

  “You know what was missing from my work before? What the drawing needed?” He pressed a kiss to her hair. “It needed us.”

  Eva laid her hand over his against the wall. “It did. And you know, I’m perfectly happy to pose for you again. Just name the date.”

  “My next exhibition, I can see it now.” He laughed. “Eva by Daniel Scott!”

  Eva picked up another pencil and signed her name. Eva Salome Catesby.

  Imagine, the famous Daniel Scott, with another artist’s signature on his wall.

  “Salome?” He added his signature to hers. “Is that— Really?”

  “There’s the one who went to the tomb on Easter morning with the Marys.” Eva put her hand on her hip in a seductive po
se. “And there’s the Bring me the head of John the Baptist! Salome. Just think, I’m named after two tempting ladies!”

  “I think I prefer to think of you just as Eva,” he decided. “And at risk of endangering my ‘difficult artiste’ credentials still further, how would you like to go on a date with the bad boy of British art one day?”

  “A date?” Eva laughed and wrapped her arms around him. “I really never thought of you as the dating type! But yes. Why not?”

  “You’re covered in paint.” Daniel combed his hands through Eva’s hair. “Like you’ve just stepped out of a canvas.”

  “Maybe I have!” Eva wrapped a length of her hair around her finger. There were clots of paint between the strands. “And maybe so have you.”

  “You’ve found me out. How about a swim to wash the paint off?”

  “Well…that pool of yours is very tempting!” Eva held his hand. “Shall we?”

  He stooped down and retrieved his sunglasses from beneath the chaise longue. “You’ll need these, if you want to achieve peak difficult artiste status.”

  “Oh, I’m extremely difficult!” Eva put his sunglasses on and pouted. “I don’t give interviews, I just paint.”

  “And as we know,” Daniel turned the key in the French windows and pushed them open into the warm evening, “I missed you at the Tate Modern. Next time, Ms Catesby, perhaps?”

  “I’m very in demand… I couldn’t say when I’ll next be at the Tate. New York beckons. Paris. Tokyo.” The patio’s slabs were warm underfoot and there was no hint of an evening chill in the air. Eva held on to the pool’s metal steps and dipped her paint-encrusted toe in the water. The colours began to dissolve. “I hope your pool filters are robust!”

  Daniel stood on the side and watched her, his body still stained with the bright paint, his hair in wonderful disarray. He looked so peaceful, so utterly at ease that Eva could hardly believe this was the man who had curled up on the chaise longue and sobbed just a few evenings earlier. She had less trouble seeing her Mr Carswell in him, though, confident and handsome, that same aura of sheer sex that she had been unable to resist on the museum’s terrace evident all over again.