Another Brush Stroke (The Carnal Exhibitions Book 1)

by Barefoot, LW

  I haven’t seen Evan in the last two days. He comes to bed after I’m already asleep and is gone by the time I wake up. The only way I know he’s there is I feel his skin on mine and my traitorous body snuggles against him. His arms cradle me close in safety, but I never fully wake up. His delicious scent of warm welcoming woods lingers on my skin and sheets, proving I hadn’t only dreamt of him.

  I spend most of my time in the studio. I’ve walked through the house, trying to acquaint myself with the spacious floor plan. Rufus is always with me, he gets excited when he sees Mae as she coos at him and tells him what a pretty boy his is. She knows something is going on between Evan and I, but she doesn’t ask. Neither does Brad, but he wants to. He tries to make small talk but it’s awkward. Like he knows too much and it makes him uneasy, neither one of us have been ourselves since we came here.

  It’s funny how Jamie rounds us out and his absence is missed by more than just me. Jamie and I talk and exchange texts like we always do. Brad’s insisted on joining in on our phone calls. Requesting some of Jamie’s signature dishes when we get back home. Jamie laughs that he’s going to have to start pitching in on groceries, even though Evan’s the one who has been footing the bill.

  The first day I had that damn necklace on, Brad’s eyes went round, shock and awe is the only way to describe his expression. I asked him about his reaction, but he refused to talk about it and played it off like nothing matters. Asking me instead if I was okay, but already knowing my answer. I thanked him for bringing the wine up after Evan and I’s misunderstanding. He had no idea what I was talking about.

  Preparations of whatever annual party have taken over the house. Martin and Mae oversee decorations and instruct the influx of staff around the grounds.

  The absence of Evan’s arms around me keeps me from falling asleep tonight. I hate the distance we put between us. Distance I put between us.

  I attempted to let out my frustration in my studio, but to no avail. My mood proved to be counterproductive. I wander in search of Evan. This place would be frightening if it wasn’t so well lit. It’s quiet as I stalk barefoot through the halls, Rufus snorts, accompanying me. His grunts are hilarious as he pounces down the massive staircase.

  I find myself in the dream worthy library, the huge fireplace blazing. It’s tempting to pull a book at random from the shelf and start reading. Scattered lamps are around the room, but I don’t want to flood the area with more light. The fire casts a comforting glow, it beckons for me to come closer.

  I’m entranced by the magnitude of books, wondering how many first editions are held here and how long it would take to amass so many titles.

  I notice Evan asleep on an oversized leather chaise sofa as I wander through the library. I admire his features as dancing flames highlight his perfection. I want to slip back in the shadows. I don’t want to wake him, he looks peaceful like this and I feel like I’m trespassing as it is.

  To my horror, Rufus jumps up on the couch. Snorting in his territorial inspection, wiggling excited that he found someone up there. I want to pull Ru’ down and run back upstairs.

  To my surprise, Evan wraps Ru’ in his arms and cuddles him. His eyes land on me in the shadows.

  “Come here, Harper,” it’s a request, but truly a command.

  I walk to him, his arm comes up, his fingertips stroke my leg.

  “I’ve missed you, beautiful girl.”

  I have been here all along. Sulking and being immature, not wanting to face the music.

  Evan’s grip on my thigh pulls me down on the couch with him, making Ru’ more excited. I reach over and pet him. The fire calls to the dog who is always looking forward to his next nap and he jumps down and snuggles up on the rug closest to the fireplace. He huffs as if the trip down the stairs and off the couch wore him out.

  Evan and I study each other. His tan skin looks like glowing copper in dark dancing shadows, his teeth bright white, but his eyes do the trick. I fall hard and fast into his promising forests that lock away mysteries I’ve been trying desperately to keep out of.

  “I’m sorry I ran from you,” the words escape me before I even think about them.

  “You have nothing to apologize for. I shouldn’t have lost control with you. I swear it won’t happen again. But you should have said stop. The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do was watch you run and not chase after you. Harper, running away from me is dangerous.”

  Evan is danger personified.

  “We’re dangerous,” I admit. “And complicated.”

  And wrong, so very wrong together.

  I go to stand up, but he sits up and pulls me on top of his lap.

  “No, we’re actually very simple. Our circumstances are complicated. This,” his hand moves from his chest to mine and motions between us, “keeps getting interrupted by those complications and that’s where the problem lies.” He trails his warm fingertips down my neck, head cocked to the side while he studies me, displaying through his touch my instant reaction. “This is so very simple.”

  My pulse kicks up against his wandering fingers and he smirks because he catches the change. His gaze follows his soft touch trailing down my neck and lower. His words are lies because the feel of his skin on mine spells out complicated intricacies. There’s nothing simple about whatever this invisible pull is.

  “We need to learn how to be together, because there’s no going back for us,” he leans forward, sitting up, his eyes burning with lust, his words hush across my skin. The back of his knuckles graze my straining nipple concealed by my shirt, but perking up on display for him. Every part of me he touches reaches out for him and he knows it.

  “And how do you suggest we get over those complications? Because to me the more we are together the bigger they become,” I admit.

  “You’re overthinking this. You didn’t tell me to stop the other night, Harper. You have to understand you hold all the power. I was reading your body opening up like a fucking feast on my dining room table and I indulged. Everything about your body said yes. Your dripping wet, completely soaked pussy was offered up to me and I devoured it. I can’t wait to bury my head between these sinful legs and spend hours showing you how simple this attraction is.”

  His grip on my thighs is hard and controlled. I squirm on top of his evident lust rubbing up against my center. I pause with so many questions flooding across my tongue.

  “But I can also control myself, Harper. Just like I did the other night, I let you go. I gave you your space,” he says leaning back with his hands behind his head and I immediately miss his grip, his warm touch against my skin, even if he left bruises. Especially if he left bruises. “Come lie down, I’ll hold you tight, we’ll fall asleep. We can dance around and deny this earthshaking need. You’re calling the shots, baby. You’re perched up there and staring down at me like you feel this simplicity as well. I’m afraid even if your sexy little tank top and tiny shorts weren’t completely see-through with your back to that fire, your eyes alone are exposing your desire,” he says, no hint of playfulness in his voice.

  Fuck me. Desire is definitely so much more than I gave it credit for and desire coming from Evan holds promises of even more things I know nothing about.

  I shouldn’t watch his mouth when I lick my suddenly dry lips. I go from straddling his lap to flat on my back and a completely turned on Evan wets my lips with the tip of his tongue.

  “Don’t tease me, Harper,” he threatens.

  I move up against him, needing the delicious friction his body offers.

  “Show me how simple this is,” I mutter as his lips come down on mine, silencing anything else I have to say, because I’m speechless.

  Evan is right, this thing between us is so very simple. He touches me and makes me come alive.

  Tearing cloth and ripping cotton sound and compete with roaring flames. We fall into delirious rhythm. Skin to skin. We create dancing interweaving shadows. Touch to touch. He answers my moans by delivering the exact caress. Simple.
So very fucking simple and the result is shattering complications of ecstasy.

  He stokes that fire and extinguishes it with force as he fucks me. My name rushes off his lips. It sounds like an answered prayer when he holds himself still, pulsing inside of me, and I’m the one who comes undone.

  Our rapid pulses thunder through our bodies, while Evan holds me tight. The fire crackles and hisses as the sound of our exhausted breathing settles down. Sleep steals me from his warm arms, loving caresses, and wild roaring flames.

  Harper

  I wake up back in Evan’s room alone, with the exception of Rufus. I have no recollection of how I ended up back here.

  I can’t wipe the ridiculous smile from my face when I spot an amethyst rose across his pillow and his cologne is stronger than the last couple of mornings.

  After I get ready for my morning run, I weave through the party preparations and staff. I find Brad on the front steps huffing from exhaustion as thundering lawnmowers and power washers start to come on.

  “Hey, you didn’t wait for me,” I tease.

  “I thought you were going to sleep all day. You know what they say about dogs resembling their owners,” he says after taking a swig off his water bottle.

  “It’s not that late and even when I’m dead I don’t think I’ll sleep as much as Ru’,” I laugh.

  His eyes flash anger with the mention of my death.

  “Meet me in the kitchen after you’re done. Hopefully we can talk Momma into making us a late breakfast if the rest of the guys haven’t already plowed through it all,” Brad says.

  “See you soon,” I say.

  I take off as cold water slaps across my shins and I turn around to see Brad snicker and wave his bottle at me.

  “Hurry up, I’m starving,” he shouts.

  He’s always starving. I laugh and get on with it. The glorious oak trees line out the path I take every morning. It’s exercise, but it’s also research. Cool wind whips through the tree’s massive branches and swaying Spanish moss.

  I finish in record time. I don’t believe for a minute Brad will wait on me to eat breakfast. I enter the kitchen through the outside door. Mae stands over the island humming an old hymn. Different people mill around the kitchen, much to Mae’s irritation, but she tries her hardest not to let it show. Her eyes cut to a person who starts going through a drawer or opening a cabinet door.

  “Good morning, Mae,” I announce, saving the person rummaging through a drawer.

  “Well look who decided to wake up,” she smiles.

  She gives up on controlling her irritation and slams the drawer closed. Thankfully the person moved their fingers before she smashed them.

  She shakes her head. “Well the circus has arrived and they’re already in here messing with my kitchen,” she states as she shoos a woman from grabbing one of her chef’s knives. “I don’t understand why I couldn’t handle the catering myself. Look at all these lost people. They don’t know ‘come’ from ‘sick em’. Wandering about, gettin’ in my way.”

  I laugh at her. I can only imagine strangers going through my things in my studio while I work.

  “Mom, Evan hired these people to help you. He was being thoughtful and considerate knowing how you feel about the type of parties that take place here,” Brad says from a seat at the table filled with several other men from Evan’s security team.

  I make my plate from the spread that’s laid out on the island before I join Brad at the table. Everyone other than Brad gets up when I sit down with my plate.

  “Do I stink that bad?” I ask.

  “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything,” he grins.

  “You’re also in your workout clothes and you’re still sweating,” I state.

  “You both stink,” Mae corrects us.

  We dig into the food, watching the preparations, amused with Mae’s irritation.

  “Evan mentioned he hasn’t had the chance to tell you about what’s happening tonight.”

  Heat floods up my neck, because last night we were too busy. Simplicity turned into all out dream-worthy intimacy.

  “When we first got here, he explained how it has to appear as if nothing has changed from year to year. He said something about his family watching him and how he has to convince them he’s the same,” I manage to articulate.

  “Who wasn’t here last year?”

  “I’m not stupid, Brad.”

  “You need to lay low. Spend the night painting and listening to music. Watch a movie, read a book, I’m sure Evan would approve of just about anything as long as the two of you aren’t seen together.”

  “See that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” I tease.

  “I mean it, Harper. You can’t be seen together. And that diamond necklace around your neck shouldn’t be seen either. You might think it’s just a gift, but trust me it’s so much more.”

  “I got it. I need to stay out of Evan’s way.”

  “Good, don’t fuck this up.”

  “Henry Bradley Malone, clean that language up,” Mae throws a biscuit at his head from across the room and lands closer to her target than I would have expected.

  “This coming from the woman who instigates every food fight in our family, especially with her grandkids.”

  I laugh as another biscuit lands on his chest. He plucks it up and waves it to Mae, before taking a huge bite out of it.

  “Thanks, Momma,” says the ever gracious former FBI agent, who just got reprimanded by his fiery mom.

  I leave them in the kitchen and walk around workers hanging up decorations and housekeepers running vacuums and dusting.

  I spend the rest of the day in the studio. Knocking out one large painting I’ve been able to pour into over the last couple of days. I feel more productive out here than I do in New Orleans. No corner coffee shops or walks through the Quarter to distract me.

  The sun starts to dip low on the horizon when I finally take a break. Breakfast was late and I skipped lunch. I felt like I was in the way of the preparations and the workers. I’ve avoided going back downstairs.

  After days of holding out from searching for any news of the Sculptor, I give in. I put off the temptation long enough something should have surfaced by now. I pull out my laptop and brace myself as it powers up. The latest murder is all over the place. Every major news outlet speculates and reports theories on the sudden return of the infamous serial killer. I study the photos of the beautiful victim.

  Nothing about the location or his sudden reappearance make sense. The photos don’t add up either. Boston is random. It’s so far away from where all the other murders took place. I’m scanning the Internet for more information when Brad knocks on the door and carries a huge tray in the room.

  “You missed lunch, it’s getting late.”

  He sets the tray on the coffee table and moves to sit next to me on the couch. He looks concerned when he takes in the images on the computer screen.

  “You shouldn’t be looking at all this,” he says.

  “I can’t help it. You would be doing the same thing if you were in my position.”

  “Harper, you can’t blame yourself.”

  I give him my toughest meanest stare, but it only makes him smile. He picks up lids and moves them off of various dishes.

  “Thanks for bringing this up here. Are you trying to feed a horse?”

  “Yes, this stallion has to fuel up for tonight, because it’s bound to be a shit show.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing, pretend I didn’t say anything. You just need to hang out and stay out of Evan’s sight.”

  “Easy enough, this place is huge. Now pass me that salad with the cherry tomatoes on it, I’m claiming it.”

  Brad passes it to me after lifting one of the red globes in his mouth and chomping down. We eat together and I shouldn’t be surprised he finishes every last bite of food, long after my stomach is full.

  “Look what I lifted from the caterers, these little things are sparkling
in huge ice troughs. I know you’re a champagne kind of girl,” he hands me a cute half-size chilled champagne bottle.

  “Thanks, dude.”

  “I’m going to take Rufus with me and let him out, if you promise to stop looking into this mess,” he motions to the laptop.

  “Deal.”

  I eventually move from the studio to the master suite. Mae’s voice echoes down the hall, barking orders and assuming the role of party planner.

  Evan’s cologne lingers in the bathroom and water droplets are scattered over the glass shower wall from recent use.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” Evan comes out of his closet, adjusting his cufflinks.

  “Hello to you, too.”

  “I’m sorry this place has been so crazy today.”

  “It doesn’t bother me.”

  “I’m ready to get this night over with and you underneath me when it’s all over,” he playfully smirks.

  “Then I hope the night flies by.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  He leans in and delivers a myriad of sensations as his lips brush against mine and our tongues tangle. Neither one of us want to break apart, his palm on the small of my back pulls me in closer and I melt. I don’t think as my nails work into his waves as I hold him to me.

  “You better back off, little one, or I’ll have to punish you for screwing tonight up before it even starts,” he says with laughter in his voice.

  His frustration is evident as its hardness brushes against my stomach.

  “You could punish me now,” I taunt him, but I’m dead serious.

  “Don’t tease me, Harper.”

  His grip underneath my ass, grinds me against him as he dives in for another session of our mouths mimicking what the rest of our bodies wish they had time for.

  “Fuck, I want to be buried in you, instead of greeting people I don’t give a shit about.”

  “Then punish me later, I’m looking forward to it,” I whisper against his greedy lips.

  He growls and makes himself take a step away from me, adjusting himself. He turns to check his hair in the mirror. An unexpected smile snakes across his face.