by Anna Joung
“Gee thanks. I’d be hurt if you didn’t so accurately describe me.”
Our low chuckles mingle in the empty room. Bane lowers his voice even more. “Rebel, you have to talk about things at some point. You’ll destroy yourself if you don’t, and you need to keep your shit together for your son.”
I swallow hard and stare straight ahead. He plays dirty, the bastard. He knows that the mention of the most important person in my life will make me listen. “Bane, what does talking about my ex-wife fucking me over and taking my son have to do with my arrangement with Summer?”
“You’re pursuing Summer as a distraction. You’ll end up hurting her and well...I’m putting my foot down because she’s a nice woman. She isn’t like the other groupies you run through.”
“The fuck. Bane, are you hot for Summer?” They’d interacted some at the bar but I hadn’t seen any sparks flying between them. The thought of that possibility had a strange feeling settling in my gut...jealousy?
I stare at Bane, shocked by my own feelings. It’s something I haven’t felt in a long time, especially over a woman. I picture Bane with Summer and I want to deck him in the jaw. Bane, my best friend since high school. The man who has been there for me more than any other human. The man who requested a transfer to a whole new fire station to stay by my side because I was transferred from the last one for fucking up too much. I want to hit him because of a woman I barely know. Bane was laughing I’m horrified. Maybe he’s right, I should stay away from Summer.
“Dude, I just got settled in a new relationship. I’m not hot for Summer or anyone else. I’m just trying to be the voice of reason here because clearly, you lack all logical sense.”
“Fuck you, Bane.”
He smirks. “All I’m trying to say is you should focus on getting your kid back and not on trying to get between another woman’s legs.”
I blow out a deep breath. There’s nothing I hate more than someone telling me what to do but Bane is right. Deep down I know that hopping from woman to woman is a waste of my time when I have more important concerns. I just can’t help myself. How else am I supposed to distract myself from the gut-wrenching pain and depression that wants to suck me in whenever I’m alone?
As much as Bane knows me―more than anyone else―I don’t share those dark feelings with him. Why bring him down too? He’s a pretty intuitive guy, though, so he probably sees through me.
Rubbing my eyes tiredly, I shrug, “I hear you, Bane. I honestly do and you’re right about everything but, I already promised Summer I’d do her the favor.”
“Call her and tell her you changed your mind.”
“No can do. She’s a spitfire that one. She’ll probably hunt me and castrate me if I do that.”
“It would be well deserved.”
Shooting him an annoyed look, I shrug, “I’m not going to let her down. See, I’m trying to be a better human. Aren’t you proud?”
Bane rolls his eyes. “Yeah right, you still want to get in her pants.”
I can’t stop the devious smile from lifting my lips. What can I say, I love a good challenge. Summer equals a good challenge.
Rebel
“Fuck,” I hiss as soon as my eyes open. I did it again. Fell asleep and spent the entire night with some random chick. Her breasts are pressed against my back, the distinct feeling of her erect nipples poking my skin. If I wasn’t so annoyed with myself, I’d be aroused. It’s a damn good thing my dick decides that it doesn’t want to go another round because I just remember there’s somewhere I should be.
Summer.
She’s going to kill me. After I convinced her that she could rely on me to take her job seriously, I’m late on the first fucking day. It occurred to me on the first night I met her that she’s different from the women I have my fun with. I should have left her alone that night and gone on to forget about the flippant redhead, but she got under my skin. She actually turned me down for sex. That has never happened before and it stirred something inside of me that I’d long buried. I guess when I met her, I realized that women come to me too easily and it’s getting boring. Now, I’m all for chasing the fascinating Summer until I get what I want.
Easing out of my latest partner’s bed, I turn to study her sleeping form. That’s when it hits me that she has a striking resemblance to certain ginger I’ve been having wet dreams about. Her red hair is from a box, though. I can see her dark roots showing. She’s curvier than my usual type too. Sighing, I massage the bridge of my nose. I clearly hooked up with her because she reminds me of Summer. She turned me down, so why not fuck anything that remotely looks like her?
“I’m a sick bastard,” I murmur, tiptoeing around her bedroom to gather my clothes.
I make it out without waking...whatever her name is. Another day, another random woman. I might need therapy as Bane likes to tell me, but I think...why the hell would I want to fix something that’s working just fine for me? I happen to enjoy sex without all the annoying attachments.
Jogging to my car, I check my phone.
“God damn.”
There are three missed calls from Summer. I don’t bother to call her back because I can imagine the ear full she’ll give me. I’ll just take the lecture in person, it’s much more entertaining.
After rushing home to shower and change, I barge into the studio and stop in my tracks. I must have the wrong place because the room is empty except for a stool in front of an easel and a brown chesterfield sofa. This can’t be Summer’s place. Aren’t art studios supposed to be more...artsy with more stuff in it? My eyes roam until they collide with a pair of brown ones, swirling with anger. Summer stands, arms folded and expression stormy.
“Summer, I like what you’ve done with the place. It’s so...clutter-free.” My lame attempt at humor does nothing to quell her anger. Her eyes narrow to slits.
“I just rented it yesterday so one sofa is the best I can do for now. Nice of you to finally show up, you dick.”
My mouth falls open― more from shock than offense. I acknowledge all the time that I have dickish tendencies so I’m not in the least bit fazed. “Such language from such a pretty mouth isn’t fitting.”
“You’re an hour late.”
“I know and I’m sorry. I lost track of time.”
She lets out a breath and her shoulders relax. “Were you at work or something? You said you’re a firefighter right? Oh, my God please don’t tell me you were saving the world only to come here and have me bitch at you. I’m sorry, I’m just anxious about this whole thing.”
Gaping at her, I feel like the biggest asshole ever. Rubbing the back of my neck, I murmur, “Uh...I actually have the weekend off.” Hoping to get some sympathy instead of anger, I added, “I had a rough week at work so I was pretty tired. I woke up late and...I got caught up…” between a woman’s legs.
Summer’s brows crease as she stares at me. I feel like she can see right through my lie. “Whatever. Let’s just get started.”
Guilt isn’t something I feel often. In fact, when the feeling pricked me just now, I didn’t even realize what it was. Snagging her wrist to stop her from walking away, I say, “Hey, I really am sorry.” I’m not the most stand up guy in the world but when I say I’m going to do something for someone, I keep my word. “I told you I’m serious about this. It won’t happen again.”
I feel her relax in my hold and I drop her hand. It isn’t a good idea to touch her, considering that all I want to do is bone her...and she isn’t up for it.
“Fine. The bathroom is through there,” she nods to an ajar door. “You can...undress.” Her cheeks take on a pretty shade of pink and her gaze falls away from mine. I hate it that I like to see her blush. I hate feeling anything involving my emotions when it comes to women actually. Naturally, I have to resort to sexual innuendos and humor to deflect.
“Finally, the good stuff. Say, since I’m getting naked, I think it’s only fair for you to do the same.”
She throws her hands up. “
You haven’t been here five minutes and already with the sex jokes.” Index finger pointing at my chest, she declares. “Rule number one, no hitting on me.”
“But you can hit on me though, right? I won’t mind.”
Summer drops her head into her hand. “Just go take your clothes off.”
“Bossy, I like it.”
“You know what I mean,” she snaps. “So we can get to work.”
Barely holding on to my laughter, I walk to the bathroom. Despite not getting any pussy out of this yet, I think I might enjoy my time with Summer. She’s so much fun to tease.
Summer
I’ve never been this nervous about starting a project in my life. It has nothing to do with this being my first time painting a nude since art school, and everything to do with the man in the bathroom. He’s just too much and I have this love-hate thing going for him. Plus, I’m super pissed at him for showing up an hour late. He said he wasn’t at work so I can just bet he was with some woman. There’s a pang of jealousy seeping in to override my annoyance but I quickly swallow it. I’ll choose to live in denial about being attracted to that scoundrel.
As I prepare to get started, anxiously waiting for Rebel to come out, I allow myself to get into my own head, which is never a good thing. I have a habit of overthinking things, which only pushes me over the edge into serious anxiety.
Taking a deep breath, I give myself a pep talk. “Relax. You’re going to do great. This rich guy is going to love your work and before you know it, you’ll be rolling in more projects and some serious dough.”
“Yeah, relax, you’ll do great.”
I gasp and wheel around to find Rebel standing there in all his naked glory, seemingly totally at ease. Sweet baby Jesus. If perfection was a human, he’d be the man standing in front of me. Every part of his body is a sculpted muscle, ripped, and perfectly proportioned. There isn’t an ounce of fat anywhere. Looking at him is making me feel insecure about my extra curves. There are tattoos covering his chest and arms and a narrow trail of hair leading down to his…
Wow. “Why are you naked?”
“I’m posing for a nude painting, aren't I?”
He seems genuinely confused. Blinking rapidly, trying to find my tongue and trying not to stare at his dangling third leg―yup, it’s that impressive to be categorized as his third leg. It isn’t even erect! Hot faced and flustered beyond belief, I explain, “I mean you’re not supposed to be completely naked. That’s what the towel is for. I won’t be painting your...uh…”
“You can say the word dick, Summer.”
There goes the teasing glint in his eyes that I’m starting to live for, but that I can’t stand at the same time. Something is seriously wrong with me. “Whatever. This is going to be a very tasteful nude, so just go and put the towel on. Please.”
He sighs, covers his crotch with his hands, and says. “I wish you’d told me that before. I wouldn’t have come out with everything on display. I’m so embarrassed.”
“No, you’re not.”
His deep chuckle echoes in the almost empty room as he turns and saunters back to the bathroom. I can’t help noticing that the back view is just as impressive as the front. What a specimen. This is my first time feeling like a total perv. Shoving my fingers through my hair, I look skyward. Working with Rebel is going to be harder than I thought.
Before I can recover from the sight of Rebel’s dick, I hear a hesitant, “Summer?”
Oh no. The last thing I want is a member of my family here. Stifling a groan, I glance at the door to see a smiling face that resembles mine. “Zoey, what are you doing here?”
My sister barrels toward me, singing, “I came to see how you’re doing silly. Can’t I check on my baby sister?” She pulls me in for a kiss on each cheek.
I gaze at her with squinted eyes. “You came to see the model, didn’t you?”
Her smile drops and she sighs. “You got me.”
“Perv.” I snicker.
Playfully slapping my arm, she laughs. “I’m not. I was just curious.”
I shared the news about my new job with her, and she’d gotten pretty excited when I mentioned a male model.
“You didn’t share too many details with Mom and Dad, did you?” As far as they know I’m painting flowers and fruit.
“And give Mom and heart attack? No way.”
“Thanks for not ratting me out… for once in your life.”
Zoey gasps. “I’m not like that.”
“Please, you’ve made it your job to rat me out since we were kids.”
She rolls her eyes. “Well, when I do, it’s because I care. I mean, you do make decisions that aren’t…”
I can guess what or who put a stop to her lecture. I hope he’s wearing the towel. Turning around, I let out a breath, relieved to see that Rebel’s penis is covered this time.
“My word,” Zoey breaths. “What’s that?”
“That’s called a man, Zoey.”
She sends me a withering glare. “I know what he is. I mean…”
“Is he real? Yup, he is.” And he’s a real pain in the ass too.
I get another of Zoey’s annoyed looks, but her attention is quickly returned to the half-naked man.
“Hey, how’s Charles? Your husband. Remember him?” That gets me an elbow in the side and I grunt, “Ouch.”
Rebel’s charming grin is in place as he approaches us. “We have company. Who’s this, Summer?”
“This is my older sister, Zoey.”
Rebel takes Zoey’s hand in his. “Older? No way, you two look like twins.”
I lift a brow. He isn’t wrong. Zoey and I are sisters, and we almost have the same face, except she has green eyes. I’m also a head taller than she is, and my hair is a lighter red than hers. We’re younger versions of Mom.
A pink-faced Zoey giggles like a school-girl and clutches her chest with one hand. “Oh, you’re too kind. I’m a whole five years older.”
He gives her a once over. “I don’t see it. Good looks obviously run in your family.”
I roll my eyes as Zoey bats her lashes and lets out another high-pitched giggle. I swear, I’ve never heard her giggle before. She’s gazing at the towel wrapped around Rebel’s hips, probably praying for it to slip.
“Oookay.” I step in and take my sister by the shoulders. “Time for you to go, sis. I’m about to get started.”
“Can I watch just for a bit?”
“Nope. You know how us artists are about anyone seeing our work before it’s finished.”
Zoey sighs and finally pulls her hands from Rebel’s. “Fine. It was nice to meet you…”
“Rebel.”
Her cheeks turn an even brighter pink. “What a unique name.”
“For the love of God,” I mutter as I practically drag her out of my studio.
I close the door and turn the lock, making sure no one else can barge in.
“You’re sister’s a doll,” Rebel says.
“She’s married with three kids.”
He wiggles his brows. “That’s never stopped me before.”
“You’re despicable.”
He laughs. “I’m kidding. I’d never bone your sister. Not that I haven’t slept with sisters before, I’d just never do that to you.”
“That makes me feel so special,” I scoff, brushing past him. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
Summer
Nibbling my lower lip as I stare at the blank canvas. It isn’t that I don't know how to start, I’ve just managed to psych myself out. There’s Rebel, the perfect model, ready for me to capture his male beauty. The doubt from earlier has crept in and taken over my mind so much that I can’t even lift my hand to draw the first line.
“I’m no expert here but shouldn’t you be doing more? Or is staring at the canvas for eternity a part of the creative process?”
Rebel’s teasing remarks seep into my distressed mind and I glower at him. He’s wearing a little smile and I want to throw the canvas an
d the easel at him. I hate how he says things to make me want to smile. I’m supposed to dislike him. That’s what I tell myself anyway to keep myself from falling for his charms. He’s too charismatic for his own good.
“I’m just having a hard time starting.”
“I’ve heard of writer’s block. Is there a painter’s block too?”
This time I let out my laugh. “That’s not exactly what I’m experiencing. You can relax. There’s no point in you posing if I’m not doing anything.” With a sigh. I reach for my bottle of water. “Would you like some water? I have a few bottles.”
“I’m good thanks. I’d prefer something stronger.”
I lift a brow. “Does someone have a problem?”
His broad shoulders lifted. “The first step to recovery is admitting that there’s a problem, right?”
I gawk at him, not sure what to say. I’d hate to say the wrong thing if he has a real drinking problem.
“I’m kidding, Summer. I’m not an alcoholic...yet.”
Scoffing, I throw my paintbrush at him, which he catches. “Hey! What’s that for?”
“For making me waste my sympathy. I really thought you had a condition, you jerk.”
He turns to me, eyes wide. “Really?” He snaps his fingers. “Damn, I should have kept it going. Maybe I would have gotten a kiss out of you...maybe more.”
The devilish twinkle in his eyes is too much. I look skyward and heave a sigh. Deep down, I’m getting worried that his teasing and flirting is going to wear me down. “What did I say about hitting on me?”
He holds up both palms. “Okay, okay, I’m done.” He pats the cushion beside him. “Why don’t you have a seat and tell me what’s wrong?”
“As if. Like I don’t know what you’re doing.”
“What are you talking about? I’m just trying to help you get out of whatever funk you’re in.”
I glare at him so hard, trying to figure out if he’s playing with me or not, my eyes start to hurry. He blinks at me innocently.
“I’m serious, Summer.”