by Dixon,Jules
Edwyn met me on the way up the long walkway to the freestanding building. “So, Prez, think the beefcake will be our model again?”
“Probably, and nobody says ‘beefcake’ anymore, Ed.” My shoulders vibrated with a reserved giggle.
He chuckled. “Kind of got the feeling he was happy to see you last week. Something going on there?”
“Not really. Just a little drama that no one wants to hear about.”
Edwyn’s soft hand on my arm stopped me and his eyes softened with compassion. “Oh, honey, my Philippe says that drama is my middle name. You ever want to share yours, you let me know. It’s not misery that loves company, gorgeous. It’s real life that loves company.”
Jude stood outside of the classroom in his robe and looking absolutely edible, his hair all pulled back into a low ponytail and his muscular legs showing. Edwyn whistled under his breath until I gave him a shove toward the art room.
“Hey.” Edwyn performed a blatant inspection while passing Jude.
“Hey.” Jude adjusted his robe, trying to cover more skin but failing miserably.
Jude’s discomfort was noticeable and amusing, but totally unreasonable. Ed was in love with Philippe, like forever-love. He rolled his eyes and fanned himself behind Jude’s back. After a quick giggle at his antics, I brought my attention to Jude.
“Hi, Presley.” Jude glanced over his shoulder, and Ed hightailed himself into the classroom.
“Hi, Jude.”
“Ready for class?”
“I think so. Had a pretty long day, but class always seems to change my mood, so we’ll see.”
Jude stepped close. Only a sliver of light flowed between us, the knot in his robe belt grazed against my blouse, and a wave of butterflies rode through my stomach.
“Can you stick around for a few minutes after class so we can talk?” His eyes searched mine for an answer.
“All right.”
“Thanks.”
I stepped around him, getting the scent of his body stuck in my nose. I swore silently as goose bumps rose on my skin. He still affected me so easily. The reaction screamed otherworldly, maybe a curse of Aphrodite and Pothos.
Or is it a blessing?
Inside the room, Edwyn prepped his area and patted the stool next to his. He sent a fellow student off to another easel with a bitchy/friendly glare. The line between the two emotions painted elegantly on his face.
Simi relayed general directions for the focus of the session. The new pose would be challenging and our model would be holding for forty-five minutes followed by a fifteen-minute break and an additional thirty minutes after.
Getting my supplies organized, the same gasp exited Edwyn, and I rolled my eyes. Before glancing around the easel, my heart pounded in my chest, readying my weak mind for the image. And I was still not ready. Jude was still gorgeous, not that I expected anything to change in one week. The definition of his muscles sent a wildfire running through every vein in my body, ravaging me with a blast of heat. It took all my will not to combust into a pile of ash.
“I knew it!” Ed whispered.
“What?”
“You are into him, in a big way.”
“It’s just a crush.”
“Prez, it’s never just a crush.” He returned to his sketch.
I took my time with the drawing, starting at his face. Jude braced on a stool facing my direction. Simi had arranged his legs so one was propped on the lowest rung of the stool. The other leg was straight and his upper body was turned toward us, showing off the muscles in his obliques and his toned arm and shoulder. The pose was innocent, but nothing about Jude was innocent. He radiated passionate human and skillful lover from every pore on his godlike body and face.
Our eyes met occasionally. Over the thirty minutes of sketching, I noticed his face gradually tensed. He shifted uncomfortably, until he called Simi over and her eyes widened when she got close. They discussed something, and she handed him his robe. He slid it on and left the room.
Ed lifted his eyebrows. “That was interesting.”
“And weird. Hope he’s feeling okay.”
“I’d say he’s feeling something … big.”
“Okay, enough with the juvenile innuendos.”
“Presley, he popped a boner,” Ed said matter-of-factly.
“What?” I exclaimed loudly. “Sorry,” I offered to the room and blushed until the heat of my cheeks spread to my ears.
“Yes, probably from looking at you like you’re naked, too. You really need to get it over with and ride the pink pony.”
“Ed!” I slapped him lightly, and he laughed it off.
Interesting that he said pony …
I was so focused on sketching what was above the waist that I didn’t even look at what was happening down below.
Damn, bet it was a beautiful sight.
I continued to sketch and attempted to concentrate on anything but Jude’s big issue.
Jude
Simi arranged my limbs in a pose she found aesthetically pleasing. She instructed the students on some principles of drawing, then left them to their creativity.
The way I pointed on the stool gave me a full view of Presley. She’d obviously come directly from work. In grey slacks with a grey and white striped shirt, the arms rolled up and open at the neck showing off her white skin and delicate collarbone, my thoughts wandered through what kissing that delicate neck might do to her.
Halfway through the forty-five minutes, Presley stepped out of her black heels and her hot-pink painted toenails were all I could look at, like I told her—innocent but damn sexy. The graceful tap of her foot while she worked was adorable and the scrunch of her long toes when in deep focus fascinated. Our eyes connected briefly a couple of times but the last time, she held the gaze, as if she was studying my eyes for an answer to one of life’s great mysteries.
When she dropped her gaze lower on my body, I became very aware of my sans clothing situation. Before this moment, being a model was only doing Simi a favor, but now I shared a part of myself that should only be for Presley.
And then my biggest fear became a reality. My lifeless weightlifter decided to show off, in a big way. I did my best to change the progressing physical reaction with deep breathing, repulsive mental imagery, and silently cursing the weightlifter’s existence, but it was no use. The front row of five twenty-five to thirty-year-old artists began to snicker, and a one of them seemed genuinely offended.
“Um … Simi?” I called, covering my lap with my hands the best I could.
Her eyes opened wide as she walked closer. The tiny woman giggled. “Having an … issue?”
“Yes, sorry. Can I take a break, please?”
“Yeah, here.” She handed me my robe, then turned to the students. “Class, we’ll be taking our fifteen minutes a little early.”
After I slipped into the black robe as discreetly as I could, I walked awkwardly and directly to the bathroom. Pacing along the front of the stalls, I came up with two possible actions and only one of them was probably an intelligent choice. First, I could leave. Grab my bag, extend my apologies to Simi, and text Presley that I’d talk to her tomorrow. Or second, I could man up, jerk off, and go back in with a flaccid member to finish the job I started.
I’m wrong. They’re both horrible choices.
I rubbed my face, hoping to erase the memory of my penis faux-pas. I chose the second ridiculous option, because even though I was mortified, my erection was still as hard as stone. Plus, every lucid thought trailed back to the green-eyed, black-haired siren in the art room ten feet away and how badly I wished she were in this men’s room with me to help me with my raging problem.
I chose the bigger of the two stalls and locked the door. Standing over the toilet, I wrapped my hand around my cock and started long, slow strokes. Each motion sent a zing of pleasure to my gut. I closed my eyes and let Presley’s vision appear in my mind. The way her long hair shimmered and reflected light like a halo, how her bright g
reen eyes softened to a deep green when her gaze met mine, her lips and how they turned pouty and fucking kissable when she was concentrating on her artwork. I thought about how amazing those lips would feel along every inch of my body. Soft and wet.
I increased my speed and the tightening in my groin signaled the precursor to the pinnacle of my efforts. I imagined her tongue sliding over my balls and up my swollen and stiff cock, and my legs weakened. I leaned over the toilet, bracing myself with my unoccupied hand against the back wall. Her innocent eyes looking up at me while she sucked me off would send me over the edge into an intense release. The mental vision did its job. I muttered a string of cuss words as the weightlifter pumped his load into the toilet. The last of the words to be uttered from my mouth was her name, in reverence and with complete respect.
When my body stopped pulsing, I sensed a presence in the next stall.
The anonymous man cleared his throat. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. But you need to get your shit together. If you deserve her, then show her. Otherwise, leave her alone. Presley doesn’t deserve a dickhead, even one that has … a very nice dick.”
Keeping my mouth shut, I cleaned up, washed, and made my way back to the room.
“All better?” Simi asked.
“I think so. Sorry.”
“Not the first time that’s happened, won’t be the last. You think you can do another thirty of the same pose?”
“Yeah.” I stripped and took a seat, adjusting to the same position I was in before.
Presley smiled lightly at me. I smirked back with a small raise of my shoulders. The humble move made her smile bigger and more like the Presley of before my idiot ways. Totally worth everything that happened.
“Class, we’re ready to start again. Please finish your sketches in the next twenty-five minutes.”
I made a concentrated effort to remain perfectly still.
After giving direction to a couple of the girls in the front row, Simi rounded the room. Twenty minutes passed and I heard her usually soft voice change. I brought my eyes up to see what was going on.
“Presley, I love what you’re doing. Your lines are textbook, but you’ve captured an animal quality in the model’s eyes.” Simi tipped her head. “Intense and sensual, like a lover’s eyes. There’s a hunger and yearning. Excellent interpretation.” Simi moved on to another student.
I cleared my throat, and Presley glanced to me. Her chest rose and fell quickly, her tongue darted out to wet her lips. Every flick of her tongue happened in slow motion.
And I had liftoff again.
This can’t be happening. I stood and slid my robe on in one movement, grabbed my bag, and exited the room while motioning with my head for Simi to meet me in the hallway. I was a blur of action, even to myself.
“Jude, what’s wrong?”
“It was happening again.”
The same giggle was actually comforting. “Really?” She rubbed my arm in a reassuring way. “Most of the students were almost completed. It’s not a big deal. Well, I mean what happened isn’t a big deal, not that that isn’t a big deal.” She pointed with her eyes, and I shook my head at her. At least she was trying to ease my tension and embarrassment with humor, not that it was working. “Thank you for your time, Jude. I might ask Zane to step in next time, not that you weren’t a good subject, but I have a feeling he would be a little more at ease. No matter what happened.”
I sighed, releasing tension from my shoulders. “I think that’s a good idea. I also know a couple of guys at the gym who might be interested. Give me a call.”
“Will do. Have a good night, Jude.”
I walked into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face and my crotch. “Down boy! You already had your moment in the spotlight.”
I dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, socks, and canvas shoes and waited in the hall for Presley to exit the art room.
When she did, she walked directly to me, stopping with a few inches between us. With a glance down at my crotch, she asked, “Are you up for this?”
“Funny. Yeah, you ready?”
Presley smiled. “I’m ready.”
“Want to sit in my truck and we can talk in private?”
Stepping back, she pointed to the door. “Lead the way.”
She asked for it. I grasped her extended hand and led her. This was how I would be with her all the time, might as well start at that moment. She inhaled at the touch but surprisingly she wound her fingers in mine. I squeezed gently in support of the move. I grabbed her bag from her other hand and threw it over my shoulder, tucking her sketchpad under my arm.
“Did you finish your sketch?” I held the door open for her.
“Not quite. I’ll work on it this weekend.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m sure Simi told you that happens, albeit infrequently, and never twice in one session.” Presley eyes danced up through her lashes. “But it has happened before.”
“You know why that happened, right?”
“Blood flow and expanding tissue,” she answered flatly.
Throwing my head back, I laughed at her blunt but not entirely incorrect response. “Right. I kind of meant what was causing the response to happen, not the physiological definition, more the emotional and psychological reasons.”
She didn’t answer me. Her eyes bounced around the parking lot.
I helped her into the truck cab, placing her bag and sketchpad on the passenger side floorboard. Rounding to my side, I took in a deep breath before opening the door and climbing in. When I settled in the cab I noticed how far away she was sitting, almost plastered against the passenger side door.
I turned toward her. “Presley, from the moment I stood behind you at the desk before our first training session, I knew there was something special about you. You handled Emerson’s bitchiness with grace and more class than most women ever could. I regret inviting Emerson to Brix and listening to those vile words the monster spewed at you. I hope you can forgive me. Blake fired Emerson today. She won’t be a problem at Triple R anymore.”
“Did I have anything—?”
“No, Emerson caused her termination all by herself. The details aren’t necessary, but there is good news that Mitch will hopefully be coming back, if you want to use him as a trainer again.”
Presley twisted her hands in her lap. “I don’t want to go back to Mitch. I’d like to stay with you, Jude.”
“Well, that’s a problem.”
“Did you get fired, too?” Presley’s eyes remained pointed toward the windshield.
“No, but Blake made the decision to move you to Kai.”
“I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t do something to cause that.”
“No, you didn’t. I did. Presley, it’s good that I’m not training you anymore.” I moved a little closer to her.
Her head flipped to me, her eyes brimming with tears. “What?” She shook her head. “Did you invite me into your truck just to tell me you don’t want to be my trainer anymore?”
The green pools glistened like grass covered in morning dew, until rolling tears fell over the edge.
I lost all train of thought staring into her beautiful eyes.
She sucked in a jittery breath. “Fine! I get it. We’re done, professionally and otherwise. Have a good life, Jude.” She grabbed the door handle, yanked her bag from the floor, and swung her legs to exit the truck.
When I recovered my faculties, I reacted quickly. “Shit! Presley! Please wait.”
She kept moving. I jumped from my side of the truck to get to her. Her heels were just hitting the concrete when I rounded the truck to the open passenger door.
“Presley, stop, please!” I slid one hand to her waist and one behind her neck. She stiffened as our bodies pressed lightly against each other. When I had her complete attention, I brought my hand from her waist and wiped away her tears. “Presley, it’s a good thing. Because now I can kiss you like I’ve wanted to from the very first day I met you.
And this way, I won’t get fired.”
I tipped her head and met her pouty lips with a soft, gentle kiss. Her eyes opened wide with surprise, then closed in surrender. She dropped her bag to the ground and slid her hands up my chest to the back of my neck where her long fingers tangled into my ponytail. She toyed with the trapped strands and my head spun at how sensual the touch was, and by her soft appreciative moan I could tell she really liked my hair the way it was.
I led the kiss, but everything she did in response was 100 percent better than anything any female had ever done to me. I deepened the kiss. Our tongues rolled in a slippery fusion that seared my memory and taste buds with her sweet essence. Each of us gave a little of ourselves to the other person, and at that moment I’d give her anything she ever wanted. Our bodies heated along with our mouths. My hands searched her back, pulling her closer to me until we were crushed in a passionate vice-like hold.
I broke the kiss, dropping my forehead to hers. “Presley, can we get back in the truck?”
She nodded. Her eyes remained closed and her body shivered lightly.
“Are you okay?”
Not answering, she turned around and jumped back onto the seat.
When I was seated back inside, she slid closer.
Now that’s better.
But her eyes still pointed down and her body tremored visibly. “Don’t hurt me again, please.”
With those broken and fear-filled words, I wrapped my arms around her. “I’m going to do everything I can to never do that again, and that’s a promise.”
Her soft eyes fluttered closed and my heart beat fast.
“Jude, I want to trust you, but like always my mind and instincts are telling me to run the other way.” Her eyes met mine. “But I think my heart is saying something else. I think it wants to stay and see what could happen.”
I guided her body closer. She’d opened her heart to me and I wanted her to know that I was doing the same.
“I like what your heart is saying, Presley.”
“I like these muscles.” She trailed her fingers along my upper arms, under the t-shirt sleeves to trace my muscles.
“Thanks. I like that you’re smart, strong and successful, and you make my head spin with your sexy innocence.”