“I paint you. You paint me.” She motioned to the white material on the floor. “And we have sex on top of this canvas.”
Chapter Fourteen
It didn’t get more vivid than that.
Parker needed something to distract him so he didn’t rush over to Tamsen, rip all their clothes off, and sate this need that had been driving them both wild since the day they met.
He wanted her, needed her, but he didn’t want to rush this. Didn’t want to ruin the effort she’d put into place. He’d been hoping tonight’s little painting session would end in sex, but he never imagined it would start with it.
Passion painting. He’d never heard of such a thing, but damned if he wasn’t intrigued as hell. It sounded messy, raw, hot. With anyone else, he might have scoffed it off as silly, but with Tamsen? It was perfect.
His body kept screaming at him to run to her side, lay her down on the floor, and satisfy them both until they couldn’t move. But his brain reminded him that taking things slow was better. Savoring the moment he’d been anxiously waiting for would just extend the pleasure.
“So.” He cleared his throat when the word came out rough and gravelly. “How do we do this thing?”
Her lips quirked up in an impish smile. “And here I thought you knew your way around a woman’s body.”
He chuckled. “I know how to fuck, sweetheart, believe me. And every woman’s body is different. So you just tell me what you like, or don’t like, and I promise you’ll be melting all over that canvas.”
She bit her lip, a needy little moan escaping.
“I meant,” he continued, taking a small step forward, “how does the whole painting thing work?”
“Well, first we have to be naked.”
He grinned, giving her a wink. “Ladies first.”
“Brawn before beauty,” she countered.
So she wanted to play it like that, huh? Okay, he agreed anyhow. She was far more beautiful than he was. Than anyone he’d ever laid eyes on, truth be told. Something inside Tamsen glowed, lighting her up from the inside out. Great, now he was becoming a sappy poet, waxing on about the beauty of the woman in front of him. What was she doing to him?
Having her wicked way with him soon, he hoped.
Maintaining eye contact, Parker grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt and lifted it over his head. The sharp intake of breath he heard from Tamsen made his ego soar. He knew he was in good shape, had to be for his job, but appreciation from the woman he was about to sleep with never hurt a man’s pride.
“How’s this for a canvas for you?” He waved a hand over his chest and stomach.
Eyes focused directly on his abs, Tamsen shook her head.
“Better lose the pants, too.”
Letting out a low laugh, his right hand went to the button on his jeans, easing it open. He grasped the zipper and slowly pulled the tab down, prolonging the tension and being careful of his painfully hard erection. Nothing would kill the mood like getting his dick caught in his zipper.
He kicked off his shoes. Thank everything in the world he’d decided to wear his Chelsea boots today—those suckers were easy to shuck on and off. He did not have the time or patience to handle shoelace ties right now. He removed his jeans and boxers in one fluid move, hooking his thumbs in his socks and tossing the entire pile of clothing to the side.
A lot of people didn’t think men were self-conscious when it came to their bodies, but that just wasn’t true. Parker worked in a very physically demanding job that kept him in shape, but he had his insecurities like everyone else. Especially considering the crew he worked with. He knew he wasn’t as buff as O’Neil or as lean as Ward. So it sent a sigh of relief through him when Tamsen gasped, her eyes growing wide as she took him in. Her gaze traveling over every inch of his body.
“Like what you see?”
“Shhhh.” She raised a finger to her lips. “I’m capturing a mental image so I can sculpt you later and make a fortune selling art of the perfect man.”
His head tipped back as a loud boom of laughter spilled from his lips. “Thanks for the compliment, but I’m far from perfect.”
“Close enough.”
As much as he was enjoying her ogling him and saying pretty things that boosted his ego far more than it needed, they should get this show on the road before he embarrassed himself and disappointed her.
“Your turn,” he said with a low growl.
Tamsen blinked, her eyes coming back into focus as they found his face once again. With a coy smile her hands reached to the tie on the side of her dark green dress. She stepped out of some killer black heels, reducing her height by about three inches. He almost suggested she keep them on, but considering they were about to be rolling around on the floor, he didn’t think it would be all that comfortable for her. And he wanted her comfortable and sated by the end of the night.
He watched with rapt attention as her hands untied the knot at her hip, slowly. So damn slowly, he thought he might explode. Was the woman trying to torture him? One look at the mischievous smile on her face and he knew the answer was yes.
Damn, he really liked her.
Once the knot was undone, she eased the material apart, revealing the sexiest set of lacy black undergarments Parker had ever seen. There wasn’t anything special about the matching bra and panty set, except they were on Tamsen. Which automatically made them the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
She opened the dress, shrugging her shoulders and letting the material slip off her body and fall to the floor. Then she reached back to unclasp her bra in that magic way women did. A simple flick of the wrist and tada! Tatas. He wanted to laugh at his own joke, but he was too busy swallowing his own tongue at the sight of Tamsen’s small, perfect breasts, the tips of her peaked nipples hard and pointing directly at him, seeking attention. Oh, he’d be giving them all the attention they deserved and then some, very soon.
Next, she slipped her fingers into the waist of her panties, dragging them down her legs in a painfully erotic dance he loved and lamented at the same time. This was the hottest foreplay he’d ever experienced, and they hadn’t even touched yet.
They stood in front of each other, feet apart, completely bare to one another, silent and staring, the air thick and charged with sexual tension. His blood raced, heart pounding in his chest. Finally, she reached over to grab two brushes, holding one out toward him. Parker took the last few steps separating them. He reached for the brush, grasping it between his fingers, slowly pulling it from hers.
She sucked in a deep breath as if he’d touched her. Passion Painting was the proper phrase, all right.
She opened two of the paint jars, red and a deep teal color. Dipping her brush in the red, she brought it to his chest and swiped the brush over his nipple and down his stomach. The soft touch of the bristle felt like a charged wire, electrifying his skin. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to her brush stroke, so he reached over and dipped his brush in the teal, repeating her movement. He circled her nipple with the color, swirling the brush around her breast and down to her belly button.
Tamsen tipped her head back and let out a throaty moan. Unable to hold it off any longer, Parker grasped the back of her neck, crushing his lips to hers, tasting the sweetness of her mouth. It was even better than he remembered. Her lips were soft and warm. He drank in the sweetness of them, the absolute decadence, each brush of her mouth against his stoking the fire raging within.
He wanted more, and at the same time, he simply wanted this. Hours of kissing Tamsen. Feeling her melt into him as their mouths learned each other’s. She kissed him back, her tongue brushing against his with the same erotic stroke her paintbrush had done to his body.
After a moment, she pulled back, dipping her brush again and once more painting him with a sensual care he never imagined an art instrument could achieve. And so it went, stroke for stroke, color upon col
or, until their bodies were covered in swipes of vibrancy.
“Now what?” he asked as Tamsen set her brush back on the table with the box and paints.
She lifted the strip of condoms, ripping one off and opening the foil packet. “Now comes the fun part.”
His smile grew. “So far, it’s all been fun.”
“I agree.”
He laughed along with her, his laughter turning into a rough inhale when she gripped him in her hand, stroking his length in a way no paint brush could ever achieve. Grasping her hip, he pulled her close, his fingers sliding in between her legs. She let out a loud moan as he rubbed, touching her where he most wanted. When she slipped the condom on him, he thrust two fingers inside her, pulling a sharp cry from her lips.
“The…canvas…” she panted. “We need…to get on the…canvas.”
He removed his fingers, scooping her into his arms and placing her in the middle of the stark, white material. It was softer than he expected.
“And now comes the part where we let go and allow the art to work through us. Whatever we leave on this canvas is an expression of pure, raw passion. Just open yourself up to the process and…feel.”
She wrapped her legs around him, reaching down to position him at her entrance. One thrust and he was inside her. They moaned in unison at the connection. It took everything he had in him to hold still, not pound away like an animal in heat. Tamsen drove him wild, but he wouldn’t ruin this by going too fast. If this was the only moment they had, he was going to make it amazing for her. For them.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him down to her. Her hips arched, taking him in deeper as her lips sought out his. They found a rhythm, slow at first, but as their passion grew, it became wild. Tamsen rolled him on the canvas, taking the top position, riding him with seductive skill. He was vaguely aware of the marks they were leaving, the impression of the body on the canvas, the colors mixing, but all he could really focus on was Tamsen. How she felt, how she made him feel.
Her lips tore from his as she cried out, her body tightening around him. Grasping her hips, he thrust hard against her, prolonging her release and finding his own. A wave of pure elation crashed over him. Every sense he had heightened to its peak. He could have sworn he saw an aura of color surrounding them. It was probably all the paint, but Parker had never felt such a sense of…fullness after sex before. It should have satisfied him, sated him, but he found himself craving more. In that moment, he knew one night with Tamsen wouldn’t be enough to burn out this fire between them.
Not by a long shot.
She collapsed against him. Heavy pants filling the silent air. He sat with his realization, wondering how he could possibly bring up the subject of more when they’d agreed to a one-and-done deal. He waited until their breath had evened out before speaking.
“That was amazing.”
She sat up, grinning down at him. “I agree. But this canvas is still awfully blank.”
He moved his head side to side, but it was hard to see from his angle. Flat on his back, he could only see a few inches to the side of his face.
“You know what I think?” she asked with a smile.
His thumbs stroked her hips, enjoying the soft feel of her skin, the slickness of the paint as it spread along her skin. “No. What?”
“I don’t think this painting is done yet.”
He certainly knew he wasn’t done with her.
“Oh, really?”
She nodded. “Yup.”
He was game for playing along.
“Well, what do you think we should do about that?”
“I think we have more condoms and more paint.” Her lips tilted down in a mock pout. “And it would be a shame to be wasteful.”
“You’re absolutely right.” He nodded somberly. “We should do our best to use the resources we have.”
Tamsen leaned down, brushing her lips over his as she whispered, “Absolutely.”
Hours later, they’d used the last of the condoms and every single drop of paint. He and Tamsen took a quick shower in the loft kept for visiting artists in residence, where they found other creative ways to pleasure each other.
The early morning hours were approaching as they dressed. Tamsen had hung their painting on some weird fishing line–looking contraption in the far back. He had to admit, it looked amazing. He couldn’t see any real body parts, but there was a sense of…energy that radiated off the swipes and blends of color. There were also some very clear handprints here and there on the canvas.
Sex paintings…who knew?
“Thank you, Parker. That was fun.”
“Fun?” He snorted. That was much more than fun. Amazing, invigorating, once in a lifetime kind of experience. Way more than fun.
Her eyes widened. “You don’t think it was fun?”
Snagging an arm around her waist, he pulled her close and placed a soft kiss to her lips. “Sweetheart, that was much more than fun. That was fucking amazing.”
She blushed. “Oh. Okay, then, what do you say to continuing to have fucking amazing fun? You know, until this whole chemistry thing goes away?”
He pulled back with a start, surprised she seemed to feel the same as he did. “You don’t think it’s gone?”
She blinked. “No. Do you?”
He stared at her, relief filling him. He’d been worried about her reaction if he suggested changing their deal, but she went and beat him to it.
“No.”
Her face morphed into a bright smile. “Good. Then how about we keep this no promises, no problems liaison going? Until we’re bored.”
When she put it like that, it tasted sour on his tongue. Get bored? Of Tamsen? He didn’t know if that was possible. But since neither of them was looking for anything serious, this deal she was proposing sounded like something only a fool would pass up.
And Parker Kincaid was no fool.
“I’m in.”
“Great. You’ve got my number.”
“And you’ve got mine.”
She lifted up on her toes, placing a soft, sweet kiss to his lips. “See ya later, Parker.”
They walked out the back. After seeing her to her car and making sure she drove off okay, he headed to his own vehicle. Tonight had been nothing like he expected and better than his wildest dreams.
You can’t keep having sex with her while investigating her father.
He pushed the dark thought away. His involvement with Tamsen had nothing to do with him looking into her dad.
Besides, they were just having fun. Right?
Chapter Fifteen
Tamsen eased her key into the apartment lock, turning over the mechanical device with as much silence as she could. Cora was a notoriously light sleeper, and she didn’t want to disturb her roommate. Okay, she also didn’t want her nosy friend waking up and asking a million questions. She was still basking in the glow of tonight. Or this morning, she supposed, considering it was nearing four a.m.
She eased open the front door, breathing a sigh of relief when she heard nothing from the direction of Cora’s room. The night had been more of a success than she’d hoped. Dream Parker had nothing on Real Parker. The man had skills, but more importantly, he had instinct. He seemed to anticipate what she wanted, changing position and pace to bring her body to places of pleasure it had never been before. She hadn’t had that many orgasms in one night in…ever.
Slipping off her heels, she made her way into the kitchen only to stop short with a screech at a tall, shadowy figure leaning against the kitchen counter. The kitchen light flipped on, and Tamsen’s heart slipped out of her throat where it had jumped to and settled back in her chest.
“Cora! You nearly gave me a heart attack. What are you doing up so late?”
Her roommate’s eyebrows rose high on her forehead. “Technically, it’s early. Ver
y early. So early, in fact, one might question why you are just getting home?”
“I asked you first.” Mature? No, but she needed a moment to think of a response that wouldn’t have Cora pumping her for details she wasn’t sure she wanted to share yet.
Cora waved a hand over the Winnie the Pooh scrubs she had on. “I have a double shift today.”
Right. Hospital shifts were as hectic as restaurant shifts. More so because the hospital never closed. Tamsen admired her friend so much, working every day with such fragile lives. Whenever Cora lost a patient, it hit her so hard. Tamsen wondered if Parker felt the same sense of grief and guilt whenever he lost someone in a fire. She bet he did. Every frontline worker had such heavy responsibilities on their shoulders. She had no idea how they managed. All she did was serve food and make pretty things for people to look at.
That wasn’t true. Cora had told her time and time again that Tamsen’s work was important. The world needed the arts to reflect and escape into when life got hard. Plus, she started a Caring Crochet group that met once a month to make hats, socks, and blankets for the hospitals and homeless shelters in the metro area. It wasn’t saving lives, but it was something she could do to help.
“Did you make any coffee?” She should be going to bed, but Tamsen was too wired to sleep. With fresh memories of Parker’s amazing body in her mind, her sketchpad was calling her name. She wanted to get down as many of his sharp lines and toned muscles as possible. They made such an interesting contrast to his warm smile and the softness in his eyes.
“I did.” Cora raised her cup, taking a sip and moving to stand in front of the coffeemaker. “And you can have a cup as soon as you tell me what had you staying so late at the gallery.”
“I was working.”
“On what?”
“A piece for my project.”
Cora eyed her over the mug. “With who?”
“Don’t you mean whom?”
“Don’t grammar police me. Spill.”
“There’s nothing to spill.” She already did that. Spilled the paint all over Parker’s delicious naked flesh.
The Wedding Dilemma (Mile High Firefighters) Page 13