Artist's Bride

by Alexa Blue

  I’ve always been a believer that you need to have a passion for whatever you do in life. Not many people get paid to do what they love doing. I struck gold. I have made more money from my art in my first three years, than what my dad did in the last twenty years. At least I proved him wrong about me dying a poor artist. It took a lot of talent, hard work, and a bit of luck, but it paid off.

  I get out of my car just as the front door opens, and my mom rushes toward me, with outstretched arms.

  “My baby,” she calls me by her pet name. I give her a warm embrace, picking her up and twirling her like a little girl. She shrieks like a child from excitement. Happiness and enjoyment shows on her face.

  Walking hand in hand with my mom, I enter my home after so many years. My dad is still nowhere in sight.

  “What would you like to drink, honey,” she asks. She’s busy arranging all assortments of delicious nibbles.

  “Mom, I’m fine, I’ll have something later. Right now, I just want to see dad, where is he?” I ask. “Maybe he found out what we did and took off, pissed,” I add quickly.

  “I’m here, son,” I hear the voice I haven’t heard in so long.

  I turn around and get to look at my dad for the first time in years. I’m shocked by the changes I notice immediately. I get my height from him, but he seems to have shrunk in both height and size. He almost looks fragile.

  The hardness that was in his eyes when he was younger is now gone. I’m looking at a very changed version of my dad.

  He looks at me with an uncertain half-smile on his face. We’re both not sure what to do.

  I feel a knot in my throat, and then I close the distance between us in three-wide steps. “Hello, dad.” I envelop him in a tight bear-hug; all the years of anger draining out of me. “I’ve missed you, dad.”

  I feel his body start to shake, and I know my old man has just broken down in tears. Growing up, I’ve never seen my dad cry. It looks like he’s really changed fundamentally. I think the news that we’re about to give him might just make him happy, and not pissed off like I initially assumed.

  When I can hear he’s all cried out, I finally let him go. I wipe a few stray tears myself. My mom is just sitting on the couch, quietly crying from sheer happiness.

  I give her a wink. He seems to have recovered a bit now from being so emotional. He’s genuinely happy to see me.

  “Come on, son, sit next to me and tell me what you’ve been up to. I want to know everything,” he says, tapping on the empty spot on the sofa beside him.

  He’s completely ignoring the fact that he’s ill, and I supposedly don’t know. In a way, I’m glad to see that he still has some of his old feistiness left in him.

  “Where would you like me to start?” I ask him, deciding to play along.

  “How’s your business doing he asks? Do you still only have four studios open, or have you opened another one yet?” He asks me, sounding as excited as a small kid.

  Taken aback by his question, I look at him. My mom told me he had forbidden her from saying anything about me or my business.

  Who told him about the number of studios I have?

  “I still only have the four,” I tell him.

  “How do you know about my studios, dad? I thought we were both forbidden subjects of discussion in this house?”

  “You know your old man is one stubborn, old bastard,” he says with a small smile.

  “You won’t get any disagreement from me on the stubborn statement,” I agree dryly.

  “I know everything that’s been happening with your life, son, since you finished at your art school. Been a follower of your career all these years,” he says with a note of pride. “I’ve even bought a few of your paintings.”

  I look at my dad, openly shocked now. Glancing at my mom, I can see she appears to be just as shocked as I am at his revelation.

  “Are you crazy?” I ask him, not realizing that I’m raising my voice to him.

  “Do you know how expensive one of my paintings is? Dammit! I’m your son! I would’ve given you any painting you wanted for free,” I thunder at him.

  “I don’t take charity from anyone, not even my son,” he shouts rights back at me.

  I look at my mom and realize we’re frightening her with our elevated voices. Taking in a deep breath, I mentally count to ten in my head to try and calm myself down.

  “It’s okay, dad. Sorry for raising my voice to you. All I meant to say is that there was no need to pay so much money for my painting. All you had to do was ask, and I would have given you the ones you liked. I am your son after all; it’s the least I can do for you.”

  I make a mental note to find out which paintings he bought and what the cost was. I am refunding that money back into his account, without telling him.

  Feeling a bit calmer now, I decided we’d better have our discussion with him before anything else starts to fall apart. Our truce is still very fragile.

  Baby steps.

  I walk over to my mother, finding a seat beside her. Taking her hands into mine, I give them a good squeeze. “Dad, I’d like to talk to you. Please, take a seat,” I ask him gently.

  He seats himself opposite us. “I have great news for you,” I tell him. “Mom told me about your condition. To cut a long story short, I was tested as a donor, and as it turns out, I’m a match for you. I’m giving you my kidney.”

  He looks at me for a few minutes and then glances back at my mother again. “You told him?” he asks her.

  “I had to… you’re too stubborn,” she replies. “I wasn’t going to let you die without at least giving our son a chance to see if he could help you. He is our flesh and blood after all!”

  The silence in the room that follows is deafening. You’d be able to hear a pin drop. My mom and I stare at my dad, anxiously awaiting his response.

  “Thank you,” he simply says to my mom, “for saving a foolish old man from himself.”

  “Ok, that went easier than we had anticipated. We thought we’d be dragging you kicking and screaming into surgery.”

  “I’m too old for that. And thank you, my son, I’m truly grateful.”

  I look at my parents and notice for the first time how tired and old they both look. I make a mental decision that I’m going to be spending a lot more time with them from now on.

  On an impulse, I tell them about Bree. “I’ve met a beautiful woman, and I know she’s the one. I’d like to bring her around and introduce her to you.”

  “With pleasure, honey, we’d love to meet her,” my mom says, beaming from ear to ear. “Just let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll prepare your favorite roast. Please make it very soon.”

  “I intend to, mom. I’ll check her availability tomorrow when I see her and let you know.”

  It’s very late when I eventually leave my parent’s home. Appointments had been made with his personal physician. The date for his transplant will be finalized in the coming week or two.

  We have a crazy couple of months ahead of us. I hope everything works out for the best.

  My future with my goldilocks is at stake too. I’m going to have to inform her about my decision soon.

  14

  Bree

  My eyes adjust to the morning light streaming through the window.

  The day has finally arrived.

  I look forward to the experience of posing for an artist, especially one that I like. However, the greatest pleasure for me will be the time spent getting to know Harry.

  The thought of completely stripping in front of him gives me heart palpitations, and not in the right way.

  I place that visual firmly in the back of my mind.

  Bree, you’ll deal with it when the time arrives.

  If I have to sip on a glass of wine beforehand to help steady the nerves, then so be it.

  Shit! I’ve just remembered that I haven’t spoken to Adriana since our outing. She must be wondering what’s happening. I dial her number, and she picks up on the seco
nd ring.

  “Hello! Are you still in the land of the living?” she exclaims. “I’ve left you a few messages already.”

  “I thought I might have to go and report you as a missing person,” she says.

  “Apologies, honey. Since our outing to the club, I’ve been having a crazily busy time. I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again. Remember the hottie we met? I saw him yesterday, and I’m hooking up with him a bit later today again.”

  “Yeah, well, I assumed he’s the reason you’ve been scarce,” Adriana says. “He looked like he was smitten with you and vice versa,” she replies dryly.

  “I want to know all the dirty details when we meet again,” she says, her voice full of laughter.

  “You won’t believe what I’m about to do today. It turns out Harry is a well-known artist that sells his paintings worldwide, and I think he’s quite famous,” I say proudly. “Anyway, he asked to paint me, but there’s a catch. I have to pose nude,” I almost whisper that last part.

  Chuckling on the other end of the line, she says, “Bree, you’re a naughty, dirty girl. I say… Go for it, you’re only young once.”

  “Great, at least you don’t disapprove. I’ve been having so many doubts, but if my bestie is okay with it, I should be fine,” I tell her.

  “Honey, it’s your body, and since he does this for a living, I’m sure he knows what he’s doing,” Adriana says.

  “He told me the same thing,” I tell her, “and for some reason, I trust him.”

  We chat for a few more minutes, and then I hang up, glancing at my watch to check the time.

  I’d better get a move on. At this rate, I’m going to run late meeting up with Harry. I still need to get quite a bit done before I see him. I want to make sure I look my best for him today.

  When I’m eventually ready to leave my place, I send Harry a message to let him know I’m on my way.

  My phone beeps with his prompt response.

  Can’t wait to see you, goldilocks. I’ve been looking forward to this all day.

  15

  Harry

  I glance over at the message I just sent. Fuck, it’s true. It’s been many moons since I’ve felt so excited to see a woman. This woman has really gotten inside my head, and within just a few days.

  I hope I can keep my hands off her delectable body while I’m working. The subjects I paint usually are attractive women, but I’ve never been sexually attracted to any of them. My professionalism had never been called into question. I’m in uncertain territory with my goldilocks.

  Just the thought of her naked body is making me hard again.

  She lets me know that she’s arrived, and I fetch her from the entrance. My studio is empty today, as it usually is on Sundays. That’s great because it will give me enough time with goldilocks. I need to do my work uninterrupted and at a leisurely pace. Finishing her painting will take a good few sessions.

  I look at her as she walks toward me, hair blowing in the wind, and those curvy hips swaying with each step she takes. Still, I cannot understand why no one has claimed this sexy beauty.

  She has her sexy ‘school-teacher’ glasses on again. Fuck, I can’t wait for her to discipline me. Now that’s something I look forward to exploring with her in the future...

  “Harry, get your mind out of the gutter. You’re here to work!” I mumble to myself.

  She’s all shy and breathless when she reaches me. “Hey gorgeous. I missed you,” I say, giving her a tight hug.

  I’m afraid that if I kiss her now, we’re not going to be getting much painting done. Hugs will have to do for now.

  Taking her hand in mine, we walk back to my studio. I’ve been here since early this morning, setting up the background scene where I’ll be sketching and painting her. It took me a few hours to get everything just right.

  All that was missing was the model, and now, here she is; in all her beautiful glory.

  I hand her a glass of champagne, after we enter my studio. I hold up my drink and look at her. “Here’s to many more paintings I hope to be doing of you, goldilocks. Cheers.”

  “Thanks, I need this to help with the nerves,” she says, smiling nervously while sipping on her glass of wine.

  “Relax, honey, I promised you that it’s going to be fine, and I’m a man of my word,” I reassure her once again.

  “Here, put this on,” I tell her, handing her a satin gown. “I need you to take off all your clothing, and just wear this for me. You can change in the changing room, situated on your left.”

  I know she will be embarrassed to strip in front of me. I’m going to enjoy teaching her to become very comfortable disrobing in front of me in the future.

  Baby steps.

  She eventually steps out of the changing room, and my dick has the usual response—steadily starting to grow, knowing she’s naked under that gown.

  “Shit, get a hold of yourself,” I say under my breath, “I’m not going to get much done with a raging hardon!” I try talking to my dick into some sort of control.

  I suspect my professionalism is fucked where this woman is concerned. And that’s putting it mildly. Her naked skin underneath the satin robe does not leave much to the imagination.

  Making an excuse to fetch something, I leave the room just to get away from her and get a hold of myself.

  I have full intentions of making this woman mine. But pouncing on her, while we’re supposed to be working, might give her the wrong impression of me. She might think this is a usual seduction routine for me.

  I return a few minutes later, much more under control. Goldilocks seems to be looking more relaxed too. I smile, noticing that her champagne glass is empty. We both need courage, albeit for different reasons.

  “I need you to come and lay down on my desk,” I tell her. “We’ll take a break when you get tired. I tried to make the surface of the desk comfortable and soft for you. Now, take off your gown. There is a small stepper for you to get onto the desk. I need you to lie on your side facing me.”

  Keeping my voice clipped and to the point, I’m trying not to stare when she steps out of her gown and onto my desk.

  I have a full view of her naked, voluptuous ass. I can just imagine holding onto those hips and repeatedly slamming into her… fuck!

  Here we go again.

  Laying on her side, her hand holds up her head. Long blonde hair flows over her full, creamy-looking breasts, making her the most erotic sight I’ve ever seen. I can see her nipples coming to life when I start arranging her hair around them.

  I pose her body in a way that hides my family diamonds. No need for the world to see it. It’s always going to be for my eyes only.

  When I eventually sit down to start drawing her, it’s with the biggest hardon I’ve had in a while. Years from now, I’ll be telling her about this. I try to arrange myself to at least a half comfortable position. I’m just glad there’s the buffer of a table between us, which hides my discomfort.

  I finally start to draw her, and she’s the perfect model. We take a short break every hour.

  After 5 hours of posing, I announce that we’ll be taking a lunch break. I had some food ordered in, and arrival is due any minute now.

  “Are you doing okay?” I ask her, knowing from experience that muscles can get stiff from posing in the same position. “I’m okay,” she says, pulling the gown on and covering herself again.

  Our food is delivered, and I fetch it. I plate up portions of food for both of us, and we make ourselves comfortable on a soft rug thrown on the floor. I love how comfortable we are simply eating and chatting.

  She tells me about her career and the type of work she does. When I ask about her family, she becomes a bit elusive, avoiding eye contact with me, just saying that she’s an only child, and that her mom is a famous actress. I’m gathering from her reluctance to talk about her mom, that they don’t have a good relationship. I feel bad for her, and I’m glad the rift with my dad has been mended on my side.

&n
bsp; I tell her a bit about my mom and dad, leaving out my dad’s health issues for now. That discussion will take place soon, but not now. I don’t want to put a damper on things.

  We’ve finished eating and are sipping on the leftover champagne.

  I notice she’s still subconsciously rubbing her neck, and I ask her again, “Is your neck stiff, honey?”

  16

  Bree

  I’ve been feeling slight cramping in my neck for the past hour, but I didn’t want to bother him with something small like that. He seems to have become aware that something’s wrong.

  “My neck feels a bit stiff, its nothing I tell him,” dismissing it.

  “I can easily fix that for you,” he says, sliding up behind me. “Come sit between my legs. I’ll give you a gentle massage,” he offers.

  I’m acutely aware that I don’t have much clothing on underneath my satin gown. I try covering up any available skin that might be showing.

  He kneels behind me, and after moving my hair out of the way, he gently starts to massages my neck.

  Within minutes, his fingers start performing serious magic. The stiffness disappears with each pressure point he applies his fingers to. “Umm… That feels so good,” I tell him.

  “I know,” he whispers, his voice sounding hoarse. His hands have slowly started moving downwards, still massaging me. Something in the air has changed. There’s almost the feeling of an electrical current in the room that wasn’t here a few minutes ago.

  Leaning backward, I raise my head back up to look up at him, and brush the back of my head against his hard, erect dick. I can feel he’s fully aroused from the contact.

  He looks down at me with green eyes, that has turned a few shades darker from arousal. I can read the silent message in his eyes… begging me without saying a word.

  His hands travel all the way to my naked, available breast, and he’s just found my hardened nipples.