Loving Shade

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Loving Shade Page 11

by Shayne Ford


  The house, spacious and elegant, features open fireplaces, tall windows facing a frosted lake and the panoramic view of ragged mountain peaks in the background.

  The place has a large bedroom with a four-poster canopy bed, wooden floors and a porcelain tub with rolled rim that sits perched on a small platform in the adjoined bathroom.

  The view unfurls in front of my eyes in all its splendor.

  He shows me the rooms and helps me get settled.

  As we walk around, I keep glancing out the windows, soaking in the stunning winter view from every corner of the house.

  It’s morning here, and soft fog clumps over the snowy mountains and the water.

  “Hungry?” he asks as my eyes rove over the beautiful scenery.

  “Not yet.”

  “I’ll take a shower then,” he says before he vanishes into the bathroom.

  I set the machine for a pot of coffee, and then I go to the bedroom. The bathroom door is open. I peel my clothes off and slip inside.

  Hot steam fogs the glass booth, his tall silhouette a mere blur behind it. He slides the shower door open and curls his hand around my arm, tugging me in.

  “Come,” he says.

  I follow his lead until I meet his naked body.

  He turns the water off, wraps his arms around me, pulls me into his chest, and locks my lips. Pleasure soars through me while tingles trail my spine.

  “Mmmm....” I moan as I’m feasting on his lips.

  I sense something different in his kiss.

  It’s soft and deep, intense and wild.

  His hands slide down, owning my body, his mouth claiming me as I submit to him and let myself get swept away by feelings.

  It’s exhilarating being only the two of us, so far away from everyone else. It’s everything he had envisioned.

  My back hits the glass as his chest presses into mine.

  He acts as if I am a conquest for him. A woman he loves to torment and consume. A woman he overpowers and then, loves.

  Smoothly, he lifts me.

  I curl my legs curl around him while he lowers me onto his hard flesh.

  My hands latch onto him, my breath rolling fast into his mouth as he fills me to the brim.

  He drives himself deep into me, every fiber of my body experiencing the intense pleasure coming from his moves.

  Closing my eyes, I relish that feeling.

  I feel complete.

  He picks up the pace.

  I get wetter.

  He gets tenser.

  “Shade...” I murmur.

  He slams me harder, the sharp edge of his teeth bleeding my lips. I scale up fast, my thighs steeling around him.

  He thrusts fast and hard, and I’m already gone, floating, high on pleasure, staring at him hypnotized by the sheer power and the streak of wildness deeply buried in his gaze.

  The corners of his mouth lift slowly.

  He flexes his arms around me as he buries me into his chest.

  “I fucking love you, Tara,” he says.

  I look up at him, sensing the edge of desperation in his voice, something that I’ve never heard from him before.

  A tender smile crawls to his lips.

  “Yes, I do... baby girl,” he says, taking in my glistening eyes. “With all my heart. I always knew you were mine. From that first night on the terrace.”

  “Please don’t say that if you’re not sure this is what you think it is... ” I say, my voice drenched with fears I can’t push back.

  “But I do. I know what this is. I’ve never said it to anyone else before because it has never happened to me. Not until now. I know that you love me too... Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here with me.”

  He cups my face and kisses me, smiling against my lips as I close my arms around him.

  “Yes. I love you too, Shade... Never doubt that.”

  TARA

  “No. You cooked. I’ll clean,” he says, stopping me with a flick of the hand.

  I slide back into my chair.

  He collects the plates and loads the dishwasher. He moves swiftly, wiping off the table.

  “Have you ever worked as a waiter?” I ask jokingly.

  He chuckles.

  “No, I haven’t,” he says around the cigarette that dangles from the corner of his mouth. “I’m just very talented,” he says with a self-deprecating humor. “And...” he says, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth and holding his fingers up in the air, “I believe in having a set of broad skills.”

  He winks at me, and I instantly warm up. I’m familiar with his skills. Quite a bit. And he’s good, indeed. I couldn’t agree more.

  Clasping my fingers beneath my chin, I observe his moves, my mind drifting away.

  He leans to me, planting a kiss on my lips.

  “What’s on your mind, baby girl?”

  The reality comes back in focus.

  “You’re still a mystery to me,” I say. “Every time I think I know everything about you, something else surfaces... You’re different than I imagined.”

  “Good or bad?”

  He grins, and dimples form in the smoothness of his skin.

  “Good.”

  “Well... Maybe you just had low expectations,” he says, smiling amused.

  I let out a small laugh.

  “Yes, I did... In a sense. Not because of you in particular, but generally speaking, I didn’t expect much. But it’s not only that. You’ve shattered whatever idea, impression or belief I had about you.”

  “It’s perception, baby. That’s all there is. You’ve probably seen me through the filter of your life experience. You expected me to be a certain way, regardless of if I was good or bad.”

  “Maybe, but you still surprise me.”

  He erases the space between us and grabs my hand, nudging me up to my feet.

  “You’ll learn about me.”

  We walk out of the kitchen and head to the large living room.

  “You sit over there,” he says, motioning me to take a seat in the armchair by the window.

  I do as I’m told. He pulls a chair closer and a small table at his side. From a shelf, he picks up a drawing pad, pencils, charcoal compressed sticks and a kneaded eraser.

  A drawing catches my eye.

  “Who’s that?”

  He tears the crisp sheet of paper and hands it to me.

  “Oh, my God. Is that me?”

  He nods, amused.

  “Yeah...”

  “When did you draw it?” I ask, my eyes exploring the sketch. “I look, um...”

  I pause and search for words.

  “Passed out?” he offers.

  “Yes,” I say, chuckling.

  “On the plane. When you were sleeping. I didn’t draw the drool trickling down to your chest.”

  “Stop it,” I say, laughing. “It’s not funny.”

  He grins.

  “You were so beautiful when you were asleep, I couldn't help it, but now I want to capture your eyes, so if you don’t mind...” he says, wiggling his fingers at me.

  I follow his suggestion and lean back against my chair.

  His eyes go over me, and then start darting back and forth between me and the window that filters a soft light at my side.

  He explores angles before he lowers himself in front of me and expertly moves his gaze over the lines of my face. His fingers trail down my jawline, clasp the tip of my chin, slightly tilting it up as he nudges my head to the side.

  He sets my face to his liking while I do my own exploring, examining his features, stunningly revealed in the soft light of the winter.

  His eyebrows furrow from concentration, his eyes narrowing as he takes me in, their color turning cold.

  His lips curve into a lazy grin.

  My gaze coasts down his neck, sweeps his necklace, and lingers on his chest.

  “Are you with me?” he asks.

  My eyes swing right back up. He grins again, his eyes capturing his warm smile.

  “Yes,” I
say, my voice soft like a whisper.

  He slides his hand beneath my hair, lifts it, and drapes it over my shoulders, letting a few strands fall freely over my face.

  One by one, he tucks them away and places them following a secret algorithm until his lips purse with satisfaction.

  He brushes away the hair that covers my neck, making sure that the light fills that spot before it rolls smoothly onto my skin.

  He cups the side of my neck and slides his hand down slowly with the light touch of a sculptor who explores his art.

  Blood rushes to my cheeks.

  His gaze skims my face and my eyes, bringing another smile to my lips.

  Slinking his fingers inside my neckline, he undoes the first buttons of my long sleeved T-shirt and pulls the sides down until the fabric slides off my shoulders.

  He straightens, takes a couple of steps back, and studies me from a newly gained perspective.

  Head tipped to the side, he ponders.

  He strides back to me, his palms sliding onto my shoulders again, his fingers gliding down my arms, pushing my top to my elbows, revealing my bare breasts.

  My eyes shoot up at him.

  “Don’t move,” he barks.

  He kneels in front of me, one hand gripping my shoulder, the other cupping a breast while his thumb brushes my nipple.

  Heat and pleasure break through my blood.

  He angles his head and captures my lips in a deep, carnal kiss that spreads tingles over my body and starts a fire in my belly. He tears away, leaving me flushed, with a burning skin and my sex tingling.

  “Perfect,” he mutters as I watch him, my panties soaked between my legs.

  As if he hasn’t done enough, he slides his thumb across my lower lip, presses the swollen flesh and spreads the moisture, making it glisten.

  “You’re good,” he says casually.

  Grinning, he adjusts his bulging erection.

  “Good, by what standards?” I ask.

  He smiles and winks at me before he moves away from me, plops into his chair, rests his ankle over his knee and grabs the pad.

  “Don’t worry...” he says as his charcoal starts sliding onto the paper, his eyes darting back and forth between me and his drawing. “I’m gonna fuck you when we’re finished,” he rasps, and my blush turns up another notch, my lips curling into a grin.

  “You better hold that fucking smile for me, baby,” he says, smirking, as he draws lines, his fingers smudging the halftones.

  Keeping smiling is not my problem as long as my body keeps humming, all stirred up and turned on.

  Moments later, he refines the lines and adds the highlights, and then he speaks again.

  “You can relax now, but please don’t move.”

  I slacken in my chair.

  “Are you messing with all your models?”

  “You’re the first young woman I’ve ever drawn.”

  I laugh softly.

  “Oh... How convenient.”

  “You don’t believe me?” he asks, flashing a cheeky grin.

  “Why do you smile slyly, then?”

  “It’s the truth,” he says, trying to suppress his laughter.

  Incredulously, I throw him a questioning look while cocking my head to the side.

  “All right... I’ll show you. Just give me a minute,” he says.

  Minutes later, he pushes out of his chair and walks into the other room. He comes back with a stack of drawings and places them on my lap. I sift through them as he goes back to his chair.

  Most of his sketches portray still nature–– beautiful scenery, similar if not identical to the panoramic view visible through the windows of this house.

  Some were captured from this room.

  Then, there are a few dogs, a couple of cats, an older couple, and a boy that looks familiar. And then there is the same boy turned into a young man. My eyes widen with recognition.

  “Is this Chad?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  It finally dawns on me.

  “Whose house is this?”

  “His. It was his grandparents’ vacation home. They passed away a few years back. We spent time here when we were kids.”

  “So you’ve been drawing for some time.”

  “Yeah... I started when I was six. Here. It’s done,” he says scribbling his name and showing me the sketch. My lips part with surprise.

  Not only that he has masterfully blended dark and light to capture an intimate image of me, but he has grasped and immortalized the look that he wanted, including my sensual smile and the arousal left in the wake of his kiss.

  I blink a few times as I drink in that image.

  “This is really good,” I murmur, turning to him just as he vanishes into the kitchen.

  The sound of running water comes through the open door shortly after that. Moments later, he re-enters the room drying off his hands with a cloth.

  “You like it?”

  “I love it. And now I’m ready to show you how much I love it,” I say, hooking my fingers inside the hem of my T-shirt.

  17

  TARA

  I roll my top all the way up and over my shoulders while his eyes slip to my shorts.

  A slow smile tilts the corners of his mouth as I push out of my chair and move lasciviously toward him.

  He steps backward until his legs meet the couch and then, he grabs me and makes me crash with him onto the sofa.

  I land astride his lap.

  His hands grip my waist while my fingers slide into his hair as we draw each other into a deep kiss.

  He starts caressing my bare chest.

  “I can live with you like that for a very long time,” I murmur.

  “Naked in my arms?” he asks teasingly.

  “Loving you...” I say seriously.

  My answer comes after a pause, and his eyes search mine for a moment.

  “What about being far away from everything you know?” he says seriously as well.

  I study him for a moment.

  “What are you saying?”

  “Exactly what I just said.”

  I glance around and then back at him.

  “I think I’ll get used to it. What about you?”

  A bittersweet smile fills his eyes.

  “I was stranded for so long, it wouldn’t be a problem for me,” he says.

  Mournful silence stays with us for a few moments.

  “Why did she do that to you?” I ask, out of nowhere.

  His eyes darken, the tremor of his lips speaking of wounds still bleeding inside him.

  “You don’t have to answer…” I say.

  “Out of convenience, I suppose,” he says, after giving it a serious thought. “She denied my very existence for so many years, and then she expected me to fit into her life. The way she wanted it, of course.”

  “Sounds cold.”

  A sad chuckle falls from his lips.

  “It is, but the life of most people is that way.”

  “What about your father?”

  “He stayed out of it. He didn’t want to deal with her, I guess. At least that’s what I think.”

  “You’re not sure?”

  “No, but it’s a fair assumption. He didn’t want to start a war with my mother that would’ve worn him down. That’s the only explanation that I have. He doesn’t mind me, otherwise.”

  The sound of the doorbell drifts through the air.

  I whip my hands to my chest and bolt up to my feet.

  He rises as well.

  “Are you expecting someone?”

  “It’s the food delivery,” he says, heading to the door.

  “Wait for me in the bedroom,” he says, and then he sweetens his words with a smile.

  “You’re bossy,” I say jokingly.

  “I promised you something, didn’t I?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  Smiling, I pivot away.

  I enter the bathroom, linger by the window and peek at the clouds for a few moments. Before I
have the chance to turn around, his arms lock around me, coming from behind.

  He sweeps off my feet and carries me to bed.

  “I’m gonna fuck you sore, baby,” he rasps in my ear as he lays me on the mattress, on my stomach.

  He grabs my shorts, slides them off with a long, smooth motion and tosses them to the ground.

  “You know what you need to do, baby,” he mutters.

  I prop on my hands and knees, swivel my head and glance at him over my shoulder.

  “Don’t turn,” he says.

  His clothes hit the floor with a soft rustle. The metallic noise of his buckle rings out right after.

  “I want to see you,” I say, pleading with him.

  “Not now.”

  He clutches my hips and pulls me to the edge of the bed.

  “Open for me, baby.”

  I part my legs.

  “Please let me watch you,” I beg.

  His wet fingers draw a long path between my legs before his mouth follows the same itinerary. My fingers grip the sheets.

  “It’s not going to take me long...” I say.

  “It doesn’t have to, but I’ll make sure you last.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, yes,” he says that he slips his fingers into me.

  My center clenches. He pulls them out.

  He pushes his erection into me, dipping into my wet arousal before he teasingly pulls it away and slides it between my butt cheeks, rubbing it against me.

  Tingles swirl between my thighs as I slide a hand between my legs.

  “Don’t you dare,” he says, smiling.

  I pull my hand away.

  He lowers his mouth and sinks his teeth into my flesh.

  My hips jerks.

  “It stings.”

  He lowers his head again, his tongue swirling and stroking the same spot, his kiss giving me relief.

  “I love that,” I say.

  He keeps kissing my butt cheek following a trail to my center. His lips roll, his tongue pushing inside.

  “You’re so wet,” he purrs as he pulls away again.”Now, get on your stomach and keep your legs open.”

  I do exactly as I’m told.

  The mattress dips once he props himself on his hands and starts hovering over me. He lodges himself between my legs, his hand slipping under me, a couple of fingers sliding between my folds, and circling my clit.

  “Is this better?” he asks, in a low, tender voice.

  “Yes.”

 

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