An ugly jolt slammed into my gut, and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t conceal my emotions.
“What are you two talking about?” Lucian asked, appearing behind Stacy.
She maneuvered around, her smile returning full force. “Art, of course.”
Lucian clapped his hands and rubbed them together, beaming from ear-to-ear.
“So, Shadow,” Stacy improvised, “does this mean one day we’ll see Lucian hanging in an art gallery.”
“Possibly.” I smiled. “Though, it’s quite possible I might fall in love with it and never let it go.”
Stacy’s brows furrowed, catching the double connotation to my statement. Her intentions might be noble, a sister wishing to protect her brother, but she didn’t know me anymore than I knew her. She gave me a single nod of understanding, which made the pit in my stomach dissolve. She understood me as much as I did her.
Good.
The auditorium slowly began to empty and before long Lucian asked me and Stacy to join him for a late lunch. More like an early dinner. We talked and laughed, and by the end of the night, I found myself back at Lucian and Stacy’s apartment where I spent the evening listening to Lucian play. Stacy hadn’t lied. His piece was beautiful, unlike anything I’d ever heard before. I could see colors dance before my eyes with each note, almost as if I were painting his melody.
His song was art at its purest, and I was now even more determined to capture him on canvas.
“So, is Shadow your real name?” Lucian questioned, standing over my shoulder as I scrawled my mark at the bottom of a commissioned piece.
Interesting. A subject we hadn’t broached yet.
I smiled and glanced up at him, meeting those blue eyes. “No. It’s a nickname I acquired in art school from one of my professors. She said I had an amazing gift for shadowing. After that, she started calling me Shadow. It sorta stuck.”
It had been weeks since we first met, and it seemed like my every waking hour was spent with Lucian. My favorite days were when I would go to his place and listen to him play. His eyes changed color with the mood of his songs. I was enamored by the way his body moved and how the melody seemed to flow from his soul.
His first night in my studio, he peeked under the tarp I had over the painting of his eyes. My initial reaction was fear. I attempted to divert him from the piece. I was worried he’d think I was insane for having painted his eyes, but instead, he wanted to buy it. I wouldn’t let him. At least not with money. I asked him to write me a song, instead. To which he replied that all his music had been for me. He had never felt so inspired before me. Talk about melting a woman’s heart. I signed that piece and handed it over without a second thought. Now it hangs on the wall over his piano. Stacy claimed the first night she walked into the living room and saw it staring at her, she screamed. I wished I could’ve been there to see that.
Over the span of time since we met, I’ve begun to understand him, see him for everything he was, is, and wanted to be. I also found that watching him with Stacy helped me better understand him. They may have been stepsiblings, but they’ve proven that blood doesn’t always dictate family. He was as protective of her as she was of him. When her girlfriend arrived one night during dinner, I could feel Lucian’s demeanor shift. He didn’t like the woman. Later he told me he thought Stacy was far too good for her, but kept his mouth shut because he desired to see his sister happy.
“So what is your real name, then?” he questioned.
I placed my palette on the table and stretched my arms over my head. The sun had long since disappeared and fatigue was beginning to set in. “Rochelle. Rochelle Eleanor Kingsley.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “I like it. It suits you.”
There was nothing romantic in his words, but they left me feeling tingly all over. Never did he try to overstep his bounds. He was cordial and sweet, always the perfect gentleman. We talked for hours on end, never tiring. Through it all, something strange was beginning to happen to me.
Normally, I’d put up a wall between me and my muse. They talked, I listened. The process worked for me. It allowed me to see the real them, but with Lucian, it was as if he could see me. All of me.
I dropped my arms and caught sight of Lucian over my shoulder. The lighting on his face was almost angelic. He had a calm, serene expression, and it struck me. It was time to paint him.
Suddenly, I felt nervous, and I wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because I was about to see him naked, or maybe it was because I knew once I completed the painting our time together would end. Whatever the case might’ve been, my body hummed with anxiousness that made my mouth fill with metallic fluid.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It’s time,” I whispered.
Lucian’s eyes widened, sparkling in the dull light. His fingers curled at his scalp as he combed them through his hair; a nervous habit of his I’d grown used to. At least I wasn’t alone in my anxiety, which for some unknown reason calmed me a bit.
“Are you sure?” Lucian was well aware of my process. I’d explained it to him in detail. He seemed fascinated by the concept.
I drifted to my paint table to set up. “I’m positive. I feel it. Don’t you?”
Lucian dropped his chin and released a heavy sigh. “I do, but I fear it.”
“Why? Because I’m about to see you naked?”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Nah. That doesn’t bother me.”
I placed a fresh canvas on my easel. “Then what is it?”
There went his fingers through his hair again. “I’ve enjoyed all the time we’ve spent together.” He pointed between us. “I don’t want it to end.”
My heart sank in my chest. He’d verbalized my exact feelings. I dropped the tube of paint I held in my hand and rushed over to him, pulling him in my arms. “We’re friends, right?”
“Friends,” he muttered against my hair, swaying our bodies in place.
“Then when I’m done, we remain that way. Agreed?” I arched my back to meet his eyes, refusing to let him leave my embrace. “Agreed?” I repeated.
A small, sad smile donned his lips. “Okay.”
“Good.” I tapped the tip of his nose with my fingertip. “Let’s get to work.”
With some reluctance, I released him and returned to my table where I began blending colors together, trying to get the right shade of blue for his eyes. We talked as I mixed, both relaxing a little, falling into our normal routine, until I was ready. I turned to Lucian, my mouth dry and throat burning. “Um, you might want to, ah …” I motioned up and down his body.
“Get undressed,” he finished for me.
Sweat beaded at the back of my neck as the nervous butterflies returned in full force. “Um, yeah. Please.”
He gave me a sweet smile and pulled his t-shirt over his head. My heart rate increased at the sight of his bare chest. I quickly diverted my gaze, struggling to breathe. I had to get a grip, but it was difficult when taking in his sculpted abs and luscious golden skin.
Determined to regain my composure, I moved around the room, placing brushes out on my table, and pulling paints I didn’t need from the cabinet. Basically I did anything and everything I could to keep from staring at Lucian.
In the background, I could hear Lucian rustling around. Zippers unzipping, shoes being put aside, and his breathing growing more and more rapid by the second. Soon, his deep voice rasped, “I’m ready.”
This was it. The moment of truth. I slowly turned to Lucian. Every nerve in my body was on fire. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. The back of my throat burned red hot. My palms were sweaty, and I had to force my eyes to move steadily over his body. To analyze him with a painter’s eye rather than a woman caught up in lust.
A task that turned out to be more difficult than I imagined.
Lucian was beautiful. His body was hard and chiseled, the direct result of a man who took care of his physique. I perused the length of his naked form, admiring
the beautiful work of art before me. Slowly my gaze moved down to his pelvis. A small gasp escaped me as I took in his length. Much to my amazement, he was thick, long, and aroused. A sight I wasn’t expecting.
Upon noticing me staring at him, a beautiful scarlet inundated his cheeks and neck. “Where do you want me?” He crossed his arms over his chest, then dropped them at his sides. Never had I seen him quite so unsure of himself, which was perfect. This was the man I needed to capture on canvas.
I stepped around my easel and ambled toward him. My body hummed with energy the closer we got to one another. I’d seen many beautiful bodies in my line of work, but none of them ever pulled me in like his. I wanted to touch him. To feel his skin under my fingertips. To run my tongue down his stomach. Oh the things I could do to him.
“First let me …” I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair. He had been pulling at it so much that I needed to adjust it so it wasn’t sticking up all over his head. His hair was silky soft. Lucian closed his eyes, relaxing beneath my touch.
A small whimper escaped his lips as my fingers weaved through his gorgeous coif, sliding down along his sideburns to the surface of his face. His skin was smooth to the touch, but I could feel the early stages of evening growth trying to cut through the surface. I inhaled deep at the realization that I was still touching him and needed to stop. Like now! But I didn’t want too.
Finally I forced my hand away. “Much better.” I stepped back, my breathing labored and ragged. “Now, lie down on the couch,” I whispered.
His eyes fluttered open, a small smile pulling at his lips. “Okay,” he muttered.
I attempted to swallow the lump that had developed in my throat. As he lowered himself onto the sofa, I was mesmerized by the manner in which his muscles flexed. He was graceful and alluring. “How do you want me?” From the years of playing piano, his posture was perfect; his hands pressed against his lap.
I gulped, willing my legs to move. “First off, I need you to relax. I want you to be as comfortable as possible.”
Lucian laughed, yet didn’t move.
“Um, you do understand what I mean, right?” I placed my hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him back. He allowed me to move him, but when his hands slipped from his lap, my eyes fell to his hips. A small gasp escaped me. The urge to touch him, to run my hand and tongue over him was almost too much for me to bear.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sure this has to make you uncomfortable.”
I shook my head, not only to comfort him but the sweep away the thoughts flooding through my mind. “Not at all. It happens more often than you’d think.”
“Really?”
I nodded. “If you relax, everything will return to normal.”
“All right.” Lucian shifted into the cushions, propping his leg up on the seat and draping his arm over the back. He was making an effort to appear comfortable, but it was plain to see he was anything but. His pose was terrible, and there was no way he could take sitting like that for hours, so I pushed back my desire to rectify the situation.
I knelt before Lucian. “Here, let me help,” I muttered as I positioned his leg a little more comfortably. A jolt of electricity fired through me when I touched his bare skin. Startled by the feeling, I moved back a little too quickly, lost my footing, and fell right into Lucian. Naturally, I stretched out my arms to break my fall, which caused my hand to graze along his rock hard length.
I jerked back, my breathing so ragged that I was near the point of hyperventilation. This was not how a professional painter handled herself. I’d done this so many times before. Why was he any different? “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to …” My words trailed away.
“No, please don’t be,” he whispered as he maneuvered off the couch, his blue eyes burning a hole into my soul. My gaze fell to the floor, embarrassed by my behavior. Lucian placed his fingers beneath my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Tell me it isn’t just me.”
I furrowed my brow in confusion. I was the idiot. Not him. “What do you mean?”
His hands cupped my face. “Tell me I’m not the only one feeling this way right now.” His thumbs brushed along my cheekbones as his tongue darted out over his lips.
“I feel it, too,” I admitted.
Stars collided and the earth stood still as he brought his lips to mine.
I wrapped my arms around his naked form and pulled him closer to me. He snaked his tongue across my bottom lip, silently begging entrance, which I gladly and willingly granted him. His tongue stroked mine with confidence, taking command of what he wanted. A directive I was happy to oblige.
A low moan erupted in his chest. In his arms, I felt feral and wanton. I didn’t just want him. I needed him.
He broke the kiss, moving his mouth to my neck, sucking and nipping at my skin. I angled my neck, giving him complete access as his tongue traced the dip in my throat. To close the gap between us, I reached down and gripped his ass in my hands. A small sigh expelled from my lips at the feel of his hard erection pressed into my stomach.
His fingers trailed down between my breasts. Even through the cotton of my t-shirt I could feel the path of fire blazing across my skin where his hands had been. He reached the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head in one swift motion. For only a moment, he pulled away, his eyes wild with want. As his stare passed over my bra-clad breasts, he grinned. “Gorgeous.” He stepped back toward me, his hands moving around my back to unclasp my bra. It dropped down my arms and he lowered his head sucking my nipple deep into his mouth.
I jerked at the sensation of his lips on my chest, all coherent thought escaped my mind as he massaged my other breast in his hand. He bit down on my nipple, gently grinding his teeth and flicking his tongue over the tender flesh as he began to massage my other nipple between his long fingers. He worked my body like he was playing the piano, expertly touching each chord to bring out the reaction he desired.
I scaled the length of his spine with my fingertips, memorizing each facet of muscle as he slowly made his way down my chest. He dipped his tongue into my navel and I nearly came undone with the sensation.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he whispered, blowing hot air over my wet skin.
I nodded. My body was on fire with want and need. It wasn’t about to let me speak.
“I’ve wanted you since I first laid eyes on you in the gallery. The desire only intensified when I wiped coffee off your chest,” he admitted.
As his hands unfastened the button of my jeans, he lifted to his full height, towering over me. He pushed the denim down just enough for him to slip his hand inside my panties. A loud moan rumbled from me at the feel of his large hand cupping my sex. The warmth of his palm only intensified the wet heat of my body. I arched my back, shamelessly rubbing against his hand. Soon a long finger slipped inside me. He thrust and rubbed until I was squirming. And when I thought I might lose all control, he slipped another finger inside me. My knees buckled, and I grabbed his shoulders to keep from falling.
He lowered his mouth to my ear, his fingers working me with perfect precision. “We really should get you out of these clothes.”
My eyes fluttered open. I hadn’t even realized I’d closed them. He slipped his hand from between my legs, and I had to fight back the moan that bubbled in my throat. In a single movement, he hooked his fingers into my panties and pushed them down along with my jeans.
Lucian stepped back from me, taking a seat on the sofa. His legs spread open so I’d have full view of his long erection. So many delicious thoughts filled my head. I could take him in my mouth or I could ride him hard and fast.
He smirked, stroking himself, almost as if he could see my inner turmoil. My body made the decision for me. I dropped to my knees and crawled over to him. Centering myself between his legs, he moved his hand away, as I wrapped mine around his dick. My eyes lifted to his and I licked my lips, slowly stroking him. A smile formed on my lips as I snaked out my tongue, licking the underside
of his shaft from top to bottom. He hissed and twirled his fingers through my hair, gentle with his movements. My hands wrapped around his shaft, stroking once more as I opened my mouth wide and sucked his entire length between my lips.
His legs jerked and his hands tightened in my hair at the sensation of his cock hitting the back of my throat. I loved the expression on his face that grew with more intensity at each pass of my mouth, wishing I could swallow him down like I’d seen in porn. Yeah. Not this girl. Damn gag reflex. He didn’t seem to notice or mind. His whole body began to shake and a small piece inside me wished I could paint this moment. It was raw, real, and fucking sensual.
Suddenly he pushed me away. Cold rejection skittered through me. I looked up at him, trying to conceal my hurt. “Did I do something wrong?”
Lucian leaned forward, capturing my chin between his fingers. “The total opposite. You were too good but I don’t want to lose control just yet. I need …” he released a long sigh. “I need to make you feel everything I feel and more.”
My disappointment melted away and left in its place was this raw passion that both of us had been thriving on. He lifted me from the floor and pull me into his lap, our mouths meeting in a sensual kiss. I reached for his thick length and began to massage him in my hand. I slowly swirled the tip of his cock with my thumb, as our tongues twisted around in each other’s mouths, tasting all we had to offer.
I adjusted my body, hovering over the tip of his length. “Condom,” he growled.
My lips pursed and I grinned. “I’m on the pill, and I’m clean.”
“Me, too.” That much I already knew from Stacy. According to her, Lucian wasn’t the one night stand kind of guy. It made me feel comfortable enough to give him a slight nod of approval.
Lucian dug his fingers into my hips and rammed me down his length. Never had I felt so filled. So empowered. A moan rippled from my chest. I arched my body away from his and rested my hands on his knees, moving quickly over him. Faster and faster I bounced, the need for friction all consuming. Lucian pressed his thumb against my sensitive button, rubbing frantically.
Love Happens Page 20