His Muse

by Twyla Turner

  The one person who could give her expert advice on the subject, she’d pushed away like garbage. Now, she was uncertain how to go about getting that relationship back or if her mom even wanted her in her life.

  All Kari knows is that the more she opens up to hear her mother’s story, the more she wants to open up the lines of communication with her estranged mother.

  Chapter 11

  The soothing warmth of the morning sun on my naked back pulls me from a deep and blissful sleep. My eyelids flutter open to find the space next to me empty. The rumpled sheets and imprint of his head on the pillow are still there. More importantly, the memory of his touch, his kiss, and the feel of him deep inside me is still there too. Like a phantom limb. I know he’s not inside of me, but I can still feel him.

  I close my eyes again and stretch languidly like a cat just waking up. I lift my head up and look back to try and see or hear where he’s gone off to. I flinch slightly in surprise.

  “Bonjour, mon amour.” Good morning, my love.

  Etienne is positioned behind his easel at the foot of the bed, his wooden palette, and brush in hand. He’s in nothing but unbuttoned, low-riding jeans and a smile. His hair is piled up in a messy knot on top of his head. He’s sexy as hell.

  “Do not move.”

  I smile and drop back down onto the pillow. I’m not exactly ready to get up anyway. I am completely worn out. Muscles that I didn’t even know I had ache pleasantly.

  “So, you woke up and decided you wanted to paint me?”

  “Essentially.” I hear the shrug in his shoulders through his tone. “I woke up and watched you sleep for a little while. I could not help myself. You looked beautiful. So peaceful as you drooled on my pillow.”

  “Hey, I don’t drool!” I rise up to look at him indignantly.

  “Do not move. And oui, you do.”

  “Harrumph!” I grumble with a frown as I lay back down.

  “Anyway, you looked so exquisite that I wanted…no needed to paint you. I could not let this moment pass. I think I will call this piece ‘The Morning After.’”

  “Hmm…okay,” I say sleepily.

  I drift in and out of sleep as he paints me. Erotic dreams starring my new lover flicker like a disjointed movie reel, keeping me in a constant state of arousal. Something cool and wet sliding down my spine sometime later wakes me. I turn and find it’s Etienne stroking a paintbrush coated with white paint over my skin.

  “What are you doing?” I ask in a gravelly voice.

  “Waking you.”

  “That’s an interesting way to do it.”

  “Your gorgeous cinnamon skin looked so striking against my white sheets, I wondered how it would look against white paint.” His breath passes over my skin between soft kisses.

  “And?”

  “And it is as I thought. Stunning.”

  He slowly pulls the sheets down my hips, exposing my backside. His teeth nip at the round globes, and I flip around with a gasp. The fresh paint smearing against the sheets. My eyes follow him as he dips the brush into the white paint on his palette. He brings the brush back to my skin. He begins at my neck and draws a line down my sternum, between my breasts, down my stomach, and stops at the top of my mound. An appreciative hum rumbles in his chest.

  He bends forward and sucks my nipple into his warm mouth. My eyes close and I press my chest closer to him.

  “You make me crazy with want. I wanted to make love to you a hundred times as I painted you.”

  “Why didn’t you?” I ask between gasps.

  “I needed to finish the painting before I lost the morning light.” He moves to my other nipple and swirls his tongue around it. His stubbled chin smearing the perfect line of paint. I squirm beneath him. “But now I am free to fuck you until you beg me to stop.”

  My core clenches at his words.

  “No one has ever talked dirty to me before.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “I didn’t think I would, but I do.”

  “Good.”

  He moves up to kiss my lips. I squeeze them together tightly. His tongue strokes the seam, coaxing me to open up for him. I turn my face away.

  “Maybe I should brush my teeth first. And shower.”

  “I do not care.”

  “But I do.”

  “Fine.”

  Etienne scoops me up into his arms, and I squeak as he bounds off the bed. He walks me into his bathroom and sets me down in front of the sink. I cringe when a thought hits me.

  “I don’t have a toothbrush.”

  “Use mine. I will buy you one to keep here later.”

  “I can’t use your toothbrush!”

  He presses against my back and bends his head down so that his mouth is against my ear. Our eyes meet in our reflection in the mirror.

  “I ate your pussy. Your tongue tasted my cock. Our tongues entwined, sharing saliva. I do not believe sharing the same toothbrush is going to kill us.”

  “You’ve got a point.”

  “Oui. Now, brush. Before I show you what it is like to be fucked while brushing your teeth.”

  His threat makes my legs tremble. His confident and dominant nature makes him seem much older than his twenty-nine years. Honestly, it makes me feel younger than he is. It certainly evens the playing field.

  I quickly brush my teeth as he stands back watching me. I’ve never been so nerve-wracked while brushing my teeth in my life. I can barely rinse my mouth before he’s on me again.

  One hand is in my hair pulling my head back and to the side so that he can devour my mouth from behind me. The other hand is cupping my already drenched sex, his middle finger dipping into my warmth and then swirling around my clit with the slickness of my arousal.

  “I think I will dirty you a little more before we shower,” Etienne says as he shoves his jeans down his hips enough to release his erection.

  He strokes the tip of his cock over my soaked slit before slamming into me in one powerful thrust. I rise onto my tippy-toes with a scream. He holds onto my hips tightly in his big, strong hands, pulling me back as he pumps forward. The slap of our flesh vibrates against the walls of the tiled bathroom.

  My eyes open and I’m given a new experience. I get to watch myself being fucked hard against a bathroom sink. I’m mesmerized. I can’t take my eyes away from our reflection. Etienne bites at my ear, neck, and shoulder. The intensity of his face filled with passion makes my stomach flutter. But it’s me who shocks me the most.

  I am wanton. Uninhibited. My eyelids are heavy with sensuality. My lips are swollen and red from his savage kisses. And my body that I always worry has gotten too full, too heavy is perfect at this moment. It is a vehicle for pleasure. The meat on my waist makes it easier for him to hold onto me. The width of my hips anchors his hands. The breadth of my thighs is added cushion to squeeze his cock as he plunges deep within me.

  I am made for this.

  I reach my arm back to wrap around his neck. My hand buries in his hair and pulls his mouth down to mine. Our moans mingle together with our tongues. I squeeze my muscles around him tightly, and he releases my mouth on a gasp.

  “Ah, Ryn, mon amour. Tu es ma nouvelle religion. Je vais culte à votre autel, tous les jours,” he groans in my ear. Ryn, my love. You’re my new religion. I will worship at your altar, daily.

  He bands an arm around my waist, using it to pull me into him as he pumps forward. His free hand reaches down to stroke my clit. The force of his thrusts lifts me off my feet and undoes his hair. He looks feral, untamed as his hair comes loose from the knot and cascades down around his shoulders and face.

  With the visuals of us in the mirror, the sounds of our flesh connecting, and the feel of him inside me and on my clit, it’s not long before I’m soaring. My body seizes as I crest, and an explosion bursts through me. My legs tremble, and my pussy flexes.

  Etienne collapses on my back. His legs are also trembling, and his hips jerk erratically as he comes inside me. His warm breath
flutters over my back with every harsh pant.

  “Come,” he says as he stands slowly. “Let us shower.”

  The sweat from his brow must have dampened the paint on my back because he has white paint smeared on his forehead to match the paint on his chin. He’s the most beautiful and sexy man I’ve ever seen, let alone made love to. I can’t believe this is my life.

  “You look like you have war paint on your face.” I grin at him.

  He kicks off his jeans and proudly struts to the tub naked to turn on the water.

  “Hmm… What war am I fighting? A battle for your heart, perhaps?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “It is certainly a battle worth fighting.”

  A bashful smile touches my mouth before he pulls me under the spray.

  ~~~

  Etienne drops me off at my place, but not before thoroughly kissing me first with a promise to see me tomorrow. I float into my flat on a cloud of bliss dressed in his t-shirt and sweatpants. I collapse on my couch and stare at the crown molding on the ceiling. Not really seeing it or anything but memories of the night before and this morning. Etienne’s hair loose, a curtain of golden waves sheltering our faces as he hovers over me. His beautiful body. That gorgeous and glorious cock between his legs.

  My hands beat the couch cushions while my feet tap the floor as I do a little dance of pent-up excitement. Nothing like multiple orgasms to boost a lady’s endorphins. I feel elated, loved, sated, and wide open.

  I slump down again after my outburst of joy, fatigue taking over. I roll my head to the side and look into the kitchen, trying to decide what is more important. Sleep or food? My eyes land on the single rose that Etienne had given me last night. It has completely changed. Where it’s petals were tightly closed last night, it’s now spread open and full.

  The night before, Etienne had said that it reminded him of me. Wound up tighter than a bank vault, closed off to new things. I wonder what he’d say if he saw it today. If he’d think the flower and I are the same now. I certainly feel like a new person.

  My phone starts ringing, and I use what energy I have left to get up and answer it.

  “Bonjour.”

  “Bonjour, Ryn!”

  I smile hearing Raquel’s voice on the other end of the line.

  “Hey, Raquel!”

  “What are you doing? I’m back in town. We should have lunch.”

  “Uh…how about tomorrow? I’m a little tired.”

  “How can you be tired at this hour? Didn’t you sleep?”

  “Not much.”

  “Ooh, did you have a late night?”

  “You could say that.” I can’t help the smile tinging my voice.

  “Oh, come on! I must know, and you are going to make me wait until tomorrow?”

  “Yep.”

  “Tell me… Was it Etienne?”

  “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “No fair! You are a cruel woman, ma chérie. Fine. Tomorrow it is.”

  “Thanks, Raquel.”

  We say our goodbyes, and I hang up the phone. I lie on the couch, pull the soft afghan draped over the back of the couch over my prone body, and fall asleep with the scent of Etienne from his clothes around me.

  Chapter 12

  “Mon Dieu!” Raquel says. My God!

  She looks me up and down as I approach her in the restaurant. She stands to greet me with an air kiss to both cheeks.

  “You fucked him, didn’t you?!”

  I flush with heat and glance around the restaurant to make sure no one heard her. She’s not exactly quiet.

  “Shh! Keep your voice down.” I hiss under my breath. “I don’t need the world knowing my business.”

  “You did! It was Etienne, right?” She says a bit quieter as we both sit.

  “Yes.” I busy myself with grabbing the menu. “How could you tell?”

  Raquel pulls my menu down to the table, forcing me to look at her.

  “You are lit up like the Eiffel Tower at night. Your eyes are bright, your skin is glowing, you seem more relaxed, and you look ten years younger.”

  “Jeez! What did I look like before? An old hag?”

  “Oh, please!” She waves away my comment. “With that skin of yours, you already looked ten years younger than you are. Now you look twenty-four. But before, you seemed a bit sad, tightly wound, and unsure of yourself. That’s the difference a good fuck can give you.”

  “You’re something else, you know that?” I shake my head.

  “I know you are a relatively private person, so you probably won’t give me details. But tell me this… Is he as good a lover as the rumors say?” She leans forward in anticipation.

  I look at her for a few moments. A small smile touching my lips.

  “Oui.”

  Raquel claps her hands together happily.

  “Oh, you are so lucky, ma chére.”

  “Though I must say, I’m still not sure how I feel about everyone knowing that he’s this great lover. Like, how many women around town are his former lovers?”

  “That is not your concern. His past is his. Just like your past is yours. It’s no one else’s business as long as it does not currently affect you. Besides, if it were not for all those past lovers he learned from, he would not have been as good in bed, no?”

  “You’re right. You’re right.” I nod and hold up my hands, conceding her point.

  “I am truly happy for you, in any case.” She cocks her head to the side and smiles warmly at me. “You deserve this, Ryn. Every woman deserves to find a man who can satisfy her sexually. Who makes her feel alive.”

  “God, yes!” I sigh and fall back into my chair. “Now that I’ve found it, I’m not so sure I can go back.” I frown. “What will I do if it doesn’t work out?”

  “Do not even start your pretty head down that path,” she scolds me. “Enjoy the moment. Let go and love as if it will last forever. It is truly the only way to love.”

  “Who said anything about love?”

  Raquel fixes me with a knowing stare.

  “Only people in love walk as if they are floating on a cloud with eyes that are not truly present so much as they are with their lover in a secret place.”

  “Do all French people have the souls of poets? That is such a profound description of someone in love. Though I doubt I look like that.”

  “We do have our way with words. But it is exactly how you look, ma chére. You have that faraway look in your eyes. You are more with him than you are with me right now.”

  “Am I that obvious?”

  “You could not be more obvious if you put a sign around your neck that says, ‘I am in love.’”

  “I’m gonna be hundred percent straight with you.” I lean forward and fix her with a serious stare. “I’m terrified.”

  “Terrified of what? Love?”

  “Of completely letting go. Of falling. It’s been so long and the last time ended in disaster. I gave all of myself. So much so that I forgot about me. Which ironically is what turned him off and into someone else’s arms. How do you fall in love without losing yourself?”

  “Continue to work on your business. Do things that you love with or without him. Spend time with friends, like me, away from him.” She winks at me. “And then when you’re together, shower him with love.”

  “You’re amazing, you know that?”

  “I do try.”

  “The logical part of my brain gets lost in all my overthinking. You always seem to help me sort out all the noise.”

  “That is what friends are there for. Just enjoy yourself, but remember to take time for yourself too. It is as simple as that. Although, a phenomenal lover is an easy distraction from other parts of your life.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  ~~~

  “Yes, Yvonne. The shuttle will arrive at your house at one o’clock to pick you all up on Wednesday. You’ll have a layover in London, and then your flight to Nice will land around eleven in the morning. I’ll be there
to pick you up at the airport.” I say to my new client over the phone.

  They’re a group of five, forty-something friends who have reached that point in their lives where they make good money, but rarely get a chance to enjoy it. With the help of some ads and my relationship with my former travel agency, they found out about Travel Noir and will be here next Thursday.

  This is a huge opportunity for me. These ladies are professionals with a lot of connections. If I show them a good time, they’ll spread the word high and low. So, of course, I’m a nervous wreck and excited beyond words.

  “Thank you, Taryn. The girls and I are so dang excited. We all got our passports a couple of years ago and have yet to use them. We’re ready to get some stamps.”

  I can hear the excitement in her voice from thousands of miles away. I also hear a soft knock on my door.

  “I’m glad I’ll be the one to introduce you ladies to international travel. Trust me, you’re going to have a great time.” I say as I walk over to my door.

  I turn the lock and crack the door open to see who’s on the other side. Etienne stands there looking edible in paint-stained, jeans with large holes in the knees. A black t-shirt and black boots with his hair loose around his shoulders.

  He was supposed to come over in another couple of hours. So, he’s certainly early and unexpected. But I step back opening the door wider for him to step through. I mouth the word ‘hello’ as he kicks off his boots.

  “Oh, before I forget. Do you have any tips on packing? I know me and my girls, we will absolutely overpack.”

  I try to focus on what she’s saying as Etienne pulls his shirt up and over his head. It’s not easy since my brain is short-circuiting.

  “Uh…If I were you, I’d try to pack one carry-on piece of luggage and a large tote bag.”

  My eyes widen as he begins to stalk towards me. I give him a slight shake of my head. He just smirks.

  “Oh, Lord! I doubt we’ll be able to swing that. We’re a bunch of divas.”