by H. M. Ward
Chapter 7
Maybe the quarrel with Josh was a good thing. By the time I find the classroom, I’m stoked and ready for a fight. It’s going to take a lot of finesse to make it look like I kept my word and not be butt naked.
The little voice in the back of my head whispers, don’t do this! You’re being just as prideful as Josh.
I could back out. I could no-show and laugh it off, or pretend I didn’t know Jax was serious, but when class comes around again I’d have to go through the whole deal again. Evil Santa doesn’t think I’m mature enough to be in an upper level class. I have to prove him wrong.
I’ve drawn nudes before. The human figure is a masterpiece and I find the uniqueness of each individual body astounding. I’ve always wanted to draw a couple embraced, to capture the adoration and lust, the craving for human touch. If I’d gone to school in New York, models wouldn’t be a problem. There are tons of them, but down here, people don’t consider posing nude to be art. They consider it a one-way ticket to Hell.
The classroom is dark, but I push open the door and step inside. “Dr. Jax?” I call out hoping he’s in the back storeroom, but there’s no answer.
At the front of the classroom there’s a barstool on a small stage. I’m guessing that’s my spot. I get to sit on a stool for three hours. Fun. Not to mention it’s going to make my body look like a rectangle and obliterate every curve I have. Screw this. I’m not sitting on a stool. If I’m doing this, I’m doing it right. I toss my bag on a desk and head to the back. Flipping on the storeroom light I blink, adjusting to the shaft of yellow that cuts across the dark floor. I dig around in boxes looking for something that would pass as a Grecian robe, but no luck. All the scraps of fabric are scraps, and too skinny or too narrow to hide much.
“What am I going to do?” I put my arm on the shelf and lean into it, burying my face. I’d been telling myself to take things one day at a time, one problem at a time, and I could handle things. But now everything is threatening to bubble up. I didn’t cry over Matt and Mom, over Mom and Dad. Last night I stared at the ceiling for hours, unable to sleep. Now it’s late and I’m exhausted. Maybe this was a bad idea. I can’t tell anymore. I want them to take me seriously, but each new challenge, each old wound makes it increasingly harder for me to think.
With all the thoughts echoing in my head, I don’t hear him approach. “I was wondering the same thing.”
That voice makes me jump. I whirl around and come face-to-face with Nathan. I’m so startled, I screech and girly slap him on the arm. “Don’t sneak up on people! What’s wrong with you?”
He grins. “Sorry, I was looking for Jax, but to my surprise I found you.” All the amusement slips off his face. “What’s wrong?” He’s wearing ripped jeans, boots, and a tight, dark shirt. I’m wearing the girl version of his outfit, but I doubt I look that hot.
I don’t want to tell him what’s up, but he’s going to find out if he’s here for the class. I’d rather he knew now. “I’m the model. I’m just not sure I can pull this off.”
“Having second thoughts?” He’s serious and the normal teasing tone of his voice vanishes. I nod. He looks me over and then steps closer, lowering his voice. “You know you’re beautiful, right? Is that the problem?”
I can’t help it. I smile at him. My eyes dart away. “Thank you, but that’s not it.” I tuck my hair behind my ear and try to find the right words. “They put a stool up there for me. I thought it would be more of a little vignette, not naked girl perched on stool.”
Smiling he walks toward the stool and lifts it. “So, let’s change things up and make it something you’re more comfortable with.”
“We can do that?”
He nods and heads toward the little stage. “No one will mind. I mean, seriously, how many times can you happily draw an old naked guy on a stool? A set change would be great and Jax won’t care as long as there’s a model.” He offers a supportive grin and touches my arm lightly. “Come on, let’s make you look like an old masters’ model, set and all.”
I agree and follow him around, pulling out things we can use to make it more interesting. He explains that I’ll end up in this pose for a few weeks, so it should be good, and most of all, comfortable. “I think you should use this.” He’s all the way at the back of the closet, tugging on something taller than he is.
“What is it?”
“An old chaise lounge. Help me get it down. I don’t want to drop it and break off one of the legs.” I stare for a second. “Come on. It’s better than the stool.”
“Agreed.”
We manage to get the thing out of the back of the closet and to the front of the classroom. It barely fits on the stage. I sit on it wondering how I should pose. Looking up at Nathan, I ask, “Will he let me choose the pose or will he do it?”
Nathan continues to grab things, explaining, “It’s totally up to you. We can make the set anything we want, and you can choose the pose.”
I nod as my stomach slips into my sneakers. Nathan’s a student. He must be, why else would he know all this? “So, you’ve done this before?” My voice is too soft, too shy—it catches in my throat.
He stops and looks over at me. Amusement lights up his beautiful face. “You’re still nervous?” He says it like he’s surprised. I’m gripping my hands, squeezing hard. His eyes search my face. “You haven’t done this before, have you?”
“No.”
Nathan instantly becomes sweet. He glances around the room to make sure no one is here yet, then steps closer to me. “I can help you get everything set up. We can put you in a pose that’s technically a nude, but is less revealing so you’re more comfortable with it. It’s okay to be nervous. Really.”
I freeze, lost in his sapphire eyes. He takes my hand and smoothes my skin with his thumb. “Let me help you,” he says softly.
My stomach is doing backflips and I’m ready to puke. I don’t know if it’s because of the way he’s talking to me or his offer of helping me get naked and setting the pose. Either way, my gaze has dipped and I can’t stop looking at his mouth. Those beautiful lips and the way he tasted when we first kissed surges to the front of my mind. I want to get lost in him and forget everything that’s plaguing me, at least for a little while.
Nathan notices and dips his head, closing the distance between us. “It’d be rather unprofessional to kiss the model, don’t you think?”
My voice trembles slightly. “You’ve already done a bit more than that with this model.” The pull between us, the attraction, takes over and suddenly, we’re together. His lips lightly touch mine as his hand comes up to cup my cheek. It’s tender, soft and slow. His scent, taste, and everything Nathan hits me hard and I realize I still want him. Someone forgot to give my brain the no Nathan memo.
Jace’s words come back to me, screaming at me to pull away. I’m supposed to avoid this guy. He’s a dick. He’s horrible. But oh, God, he can kiss. I’m melting into my desires, my body sinking against him.
Nathan whispers in my ear, “I need a name. You have mine, but I don’t have yours.” I’m silent, lost in the kiss again as his lips move, tasting me and wanting more. “Please,” he says against my mouth.
“Kerry.” Suddenly shy, I can’t help but look down. When the silence is too much, I glance up to find him beaming.
“May I help you get ready, Kerry?” He asks in a sexy tone, kissing me again, letting his hands travel down my sides to my hips, before lifting them to my face. He pulls away, leaving me breathless.
I pause, because I should say no. This guy hurt me last time and the last thing I need is more emotional crap to wade through. Right now his affection feels real. I want it and saying no is the last thing I want. Nathan keeps his distance, waiting for me to decide. I want to feel his hands on me and I’m tired of thinking everything through. This thing with Nathan doesn’t have to be more than sex. Besides, he’s already seen me naked, and we’ve already done a lot more.
I make my decision, look u
p at him and nod, shucking my t-shirt and falling into his arms. Nathan smiles before he covers me in little kisses, one on my neck, one on my shoulder, as he unfastens my bra and tosses it aside. Lowering himself to his knees, he unbuttons my jeans and pulls them down, pressing his lips to each hip after he does so. Staring at my little black lace panties, he stops. Putting his hands on my ass, he slips each palm under the thin fabric and pulls me to him. He presses his face to the V at the top of my legs and inhales deeply. The action makes me shiver and my knees go weak.
Nathan pulls off my panties and places them on my pile of clothes. He looks at the chaise and back at me. “Go lay down. And I’m going to say this now, because I thought I’d never get another chance with you—we have to stop. The class will be here soon and the university won’t approve of...” He trails off.
I smile. “I understand—no sex with the models.”
He laughs. “Yeah, and up until now that wasn’t really an issue. After tonight, it will be.”
“Ah, but I met you before my modeling career.”
“Thank God for small miracles. I knew you were a model. The night I met you, the way you sat so perfectly still—the radiance of your smile—you’re the type of woman that has to be drawn.”
I’m so flattered by his words I can’t speak. I lay on the couch on my side facing the empty easels. When Nathan comes over, he asks if he can move my ankle, then my wrist. He turns me so my back is to the desks and I’m leaning against the arm of the chaise, looking toward my feet, head tipped down.
He stands back, folding his arms over his chest, excited about the pose and about me. “Wait one second.” He disappears into the storeroom and comes back with a long skinny cloth and drapes it across my hips, letting the rest of the fabric pool on the floor. “You look perfect. It’s a full nude, but it’s classic and tasteful. Can I take a picture to show you?”
That part worries me, but hell, there will be twenty drawings of this, so I agree. Besides I want to know what I look like and what they can see. Nathan walks over and shows me his phone.
Taking it from his hand, I gasp. “Oh, my God!” I look beautiful and he’s right—I’m exposed but I’m not. They can see a little side boob and the curve of my butt, but I’m not all out there, goodies revealed for the world to see. Plus, he made me look like an old painting of Venus. It doesn’t escape my notice. Nathan is sweet, charming, and subtle when he wants something. I’m trying not to smile, so I suck on my bottom lip and glance up at him.
“You already know, right, that you’re stunning?” He leans in and kisses the top of my head. “You have to know that you look like a goddess, but the women who truly are never notice. That’s you, isn’t it? You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?”
I say his name in a breathy voice. “Flattery will get you nowhere.” He raises his dark brows and winks. My stomach dips in response and I can’t help but laugh. “Okay, so I’m a bad liar.”
“Good, because I have a thing against liars.”
“Me too.” My mood sours as I think of my jackass ex-boyfriend. I must be frowning because Nathan takes my face in his hands.
Crouching in front of me, he adds, “Maybe we can pick up where we left off later, assuming you’re okay breaking a little rule?”
“Maybe.” I smile at him while looking up from under my lashes. “That might be nice.”
“It’ll be better than nice. And I owe you an explanation for the other night and a promise it won’t happen again.” Nathan runs his hand through his dark hair, his eyes suddenly darting away. He sucks in air like the room is a coffin and he’ll never get enough. I worry for a second, but his breathing calms back down and he glances up at me, smile back in place. I can’t tell if he’s playing me or not. Truth be told, I don’t mind being played with. With as long as it’s been since I’ve had sex, I’m pretty sure there are dust bunnies down there.
I’m into Nathan, and he sees it. We flirt a little longer before he lets go of my hands and steps backwards toward the easels. He jabs his thumb behind him. “I’ll be here the whole time, but you’re safe. The students can’t touch you and they aren’t allowed on the pedestal. I’ll be in the back.”
I nod. He must be more than a student—a Teacher’s Assistant—or something. “You know, I swore I’d never talk to you again.”
He grins broadly, showing off the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. “I’m glad you changed your mind.”
Chapter 8
Emily and Blue Hair Boy are the first to enter. Her clunky black boots stop like someone welded those suckers to the floor. She’s in the doorway, gaping at me. “Holy shit! The newbie went through with it.” Her voice is a whisper, more as if she were talking to herself. I haven’t spoken to her since she passed out the other night. I think she’s been avoiding me. Although Carter filled her in on what happened, I can’t figure out why she’d avoid me.
Blue Hair Boy shoves her and she stumbles forward. That’s when he stops. He’s frozen for a moment before he drops his books to the floor and starts whooping like a monkey. His arms are over his head, doing a happy dance, until his nose ring catches the mesh on his armbands. “Aw, shit.”
Emily catches him before he rips his nose off his face. The motion saves his skin and shuts him up. Then she looks up at me. “You realize that this isn’t a one-time thing, right? This is an upper level class—you’ll be here for weeks.” She turns and looks at the back of the room. “Hey Nate.” He nods at her, before she looks back at me like I’m crazy.
Suspicion confirmed – he’s a student. Ding! I’m so smart. A cocky smile spreads across my face as Emily bars the doorway so that no one else can come in. “You can turn back. I can call the geezer. He loves doing this shit. You don’t have to be up there like that.” I’m not sure why she’s trying to talk me out of it.
My stomach sinks as my smile fades. “Is it bad?”
Nathan and Blue Boy both say, “Psh, no,” in unison.
Emily glares at them and they both recoil. She glances down the hall and then back at me. “It’s not the same for a woman to model nude as it is for a guy. People will talk.” There’s something else there, but she’s not willing to say it now. I can see it in her eyes.
I know she means well, but she doesn’t get it. I’ve been dealing with this for years. I always have to prove how good I am, and this is part of it. Besides Jax had other students do it. “People already talk, besides Evil Santa said I don’t take art seriously. I do, so here I am.”
“I see that.” Dr. Jax’s voice comes from behind Emily and she steps aside to let him in. The rest of the students are in the hallway behind him. “I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation. Emily, you have no balls; Grow a pair. Miss. Hill, congratulations in acting like an adult. Let’s see if the rest of the class can do the same. To your seats.” He lifts a finger with a hairy white knuckle and holds his arm in place until they are all seated around the room.
Emily’s brow is pinched as she avoids Jax’s gaze. I can’t tell if she’s humiliated or has serious concerns about me doing this. Maybe she knows something I don’t know, although the rest of the class appears unconcerned.
That’s when Carter walks in. His jaw drops as he walks in front of me, his gaze swallowing me whole. “Kerry?” He sounds surprised.
“Hey.” I look up at him, silently pleading that he supports this decision that I’m starting to feel uncomfortable about again. I mouth please. He looks away and back at the class. “Guess she is serious about art.” When he glances back at me, I smile at him thankfully. I don’t know what’s up with Emily and I already feel beyond nervous.
Some people have nightmares about being nude in public. Public nudity requires a certain frame of mind and if I don’t keep this situation about art, I’ll bolt. If this was about being a nude seductress, I’d die. But it’s not. It’s about light and shadows, about the human form—it’s not about me.
“We’ve already discussed that topic Mr. Carter. Please tak
e a seat.” Jax grumbles and flips through his satchel searching for something.
After everyone sits a cloud of silence settles over the room. My gaze slices through it and meets with Nathan’s. Our eyes lock and I can’t look away. I’ve never felt such a magnetic pull toward another person before, ever. Not movie stars, classmates, or any other guy—even Matt. It’s unreal and feels like I’m trapped in a spell.
Dr. Jax prattles on, giving directions. When he’s finished, he nods at Nathan. “Nice to see you back.”
Nathan returns the gesture. “Thanks.”
Jax motions to some things he wants the class to note about the pose, the classic S-curve of my spine and the lighting. “There’s no need to pretend the collection of you would rather be drawing our regular male model, so I suggest we treat Miss. Hill as the serious artist she is—especially since not one of you have the nerve to sit where she sits now.” No one responds to that. How could they?
Chapter 9
Time passes slowly. Class goes on and on and on. Jax leaves the room with directions for Nathan to come by his office later. Thank God this pose doesn’t hurt although my foot is getting pins and needles. I wiggle my toes to make it go away.
Carter’s dark eyes flick up and meet mine over and over again, but he says nothing. Emily and everyone else look up from their desks, capturing each line carefully. Their eyes are all over my body. I knew this would be revealing, but I didn’t think about being stared at for so long. I zone out, thinking about the first time—strike that—the second time I met Nathan in the bar. My mind is at the point in the hotel room where his mouth is devouring me, when I hear a male voice laugh.
A few guys are whispering in the back row. Nathan kicks their chairs, one leg each, so they jerk forward. The pastels they’re holding jerk up and streak across their work. “Respect is required at all times, DeMarques. This is the only warning you’ll get. If I hear another word out of your mouth, you’ll be dropped from the class.”
All eyes are on DeMarques. His jaw is slack. He looks to his friend, who quickly looks away without offering any support, then back to Nathan. “I was kidding. Can’t you recognize a joke?”