Canvas (The Program Book 1)

by N. M. Catalano

“It’s the…,” she begins.

  “Wait, let me guess. It’s the yellow VW Beatle, isn’t it?”

  “No,” she laughs. “It’s the green and black Challenger.”

  “No shit?” I ask, surprised as hell.

  Her head dips back as she laughs. “No shit.”

  Her, like this right now, is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her.

  “Well, well, you are full of surprises. Who knew our little Summer’s got a huge set of balls.”

  “Sshhh, don’t tell anyone, I’ve got a reputation to uphold.” She’s fucking beaming.

  She hits the unlock button on the key fob and the sleek mean machine beeps signaling the doors are open so I can get her settled in the passenger seat.

  “Sit tight, I’ll be right back.”

  I head back to her shop, grab the cheesecakes, and lock it up. When I return to the car and climb in the driver’s seat, I turn to her. The earlier nervousness has come back; she’s practically plastered against the door.

  “Where do you live?” Being in the close quarters of her car, her personal space, could become addicting.

  I like it.

  Too much.

  “417 Washington Street, the top floor apartment in an old Victorian house.”

  Turning the key in the ignition, I mumble, “Of course you do.”

  This town never has a lot of traffic, it can hardly be referred to as rush hour during business hours, and now is no exception. The roads are empty, which makes it hard to resist the temptation to let this baby show me what it can do.

  I’m sure Summer would shit if I did.

  On the other hand, maybe not.

  I glance over at her as she stares out her passenger window, pretending not to be aware of my every move.

  “Don’t we need to stop and get those things you mentioned, like the Ace bandage?” she turns to me and asks.

  “No need to.”

  “Why not? I don’t have anything like that.”

  “Because I do.” I don’t take my eyes off the road.

  “You’re going to stop at your place and get them?”

  “No, we’re stopping at your place to get your things before we stop and grab some other things, then I’m taking you to my house.”

  Here it comes…

  “Just a minute. I never agreed to go to your house…”

  I cut her off. “I didn’t ask you. It’s absurd to go to your place. You live on the third floor, Summer. God forbid something happened. You’d never be able to climb down those stairs. My house is a single story. If there was an emergency like a fire, and I couldn’t get to you, at least you can get yourself out.”

  I hear her take a deep breath. There’s a pause before she gives me one more attempt at an argument.

  I know she’s silently fuming.

  Only because I’m right.

  “Rock, it really isn’t necessary.”

  “It is, and you know I’m right.” I pull into her driveway. “We’re here.” I turn to face her. “I can go up and get your things, or I can carry you up. Either way is good with me.”

  “I hope you’ve got good lungs because there’s no way I’m letting you go through my underwear drawer alone.”

  I laugh. Hard.

  “You got me,” I say, “because you might be missing a few pair by the time I’m done.”

  She hits my arm. “You. Are. Impossible.”

  “On second thought, this might be better. I get to hold you while you play with your panties and bras.”

  The look on her face is priceless.

  Summer

  CHAPTER 9

  I was slingshotting from scared to death, to mad at myself for getting into this situation, to totally excited that I’m going to be alone with him.

  At his house.

  All.

  Night.

  I had to clamp my mouth shut to keep from squealing like a little girl.

  The images of the things he’d said he wanted to do to me have kept me occupied A LOT the past week.

  Us. Naked. Using our bodies as canvases.

  It was so incredibly hot; I couldn’t stand it.

  Who does that? Never have I heard or seen of anything like that before. Being a muse, an inspiration, is one thing. But to actually BE what he paints on had me all kinds of hot and bothered.

  Christ! Him alone is intense, all dark and brooding, but him gliding a paint brush over my naked skin, his hands on me, as I had to lay still while he created art on my flesh, HOLY SHIT, I don’t know if I can do that.

  But he couldn’t have been serious.

  Could he?

  He hasn’t mentioned it again, so I’m sure he was joking.

  He had to be.

  And what about Rock’s friends, the guys from his shop? Was it my imagination they weren’t only talking about tattoos and piercings they do all together? Do they all have sex with a woman at the same time? An orgy? Or is it a gang bang? They said certain ‘clients’ prefer it that way.

  I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have the hardest orgasm imagining that!

  It seems all I’ve been doing is fantasizing and getting myself off since Rock came into my life.

  Which is completely out of character for me.

  I’m not sheltered, not by far, it was hard where I came from, the people were…unique, they lived by their own rules and codes. I was never one of them, I knew I never could be. I’d always hoped it was only matter of time before I’d get out, even if leaving wasn’t allowed. It didn’t matter who my dad was, everyone was considered family if they were part of The Club. Even with the vile things that were considered normal.

  I would never accept that lifestyle.

  So I had to run.

  I finally wound up in Riverbend after wandering without any destination as I tried to cover my tracks. It was perfect, a small town, things could still be paid for with cash which meant I wouldn’t have a paper trail pointing in my direction.

  I’d be safe, they couldn’t find me.

  Finally, I was able to relax and start a life. Things were okay, I’d settled into a routine, I had always been a loner, so the solitude was welcome. Until Rock blasted into my shop and blew apart my world of peace and tranquility.

  Before he broke through the wall of fantasy and reality, I watched him discreetly, from around a corner, from my car, as he passed by. He intrigued me, and even before we’d spoken, he made my body hum. Now, it’s literally vibrating with a whole Molotov cocktail of emotions.

  We left the drugstore after purchasing what we needed to head to his house I assume, and that was a shopping experience that the whole town is going to know about. Rock came around to my side of the car and carried me out before I knew what was happening. We walked through the aisles of personal care products and first-aid items with me in his arms, me giggling, him carrying on, and all eyes on us. Mrs. Merriweather is going to have a field day with this night.

  The woman is incorrigible, she’ll probably insist on details, like how big his dick is and does he know how to use it.

  Not that I’m going to find out.

  Nope.

  Not going there.

  I will pat myself on the back for averting the crisis of the panty and bra retrieval. It could have ended up being a situation I might never want to be reminded of again. But all possibility of embarrassment was thwarted when I insisted Rock just plop me down on top of my dresser and leave the room until I was finished.

  Mission complete.

  My collection of intimate apparel was still a secret to his eyes.

  And the stairs? That man has got to be one of the healthiest men I know. He barely even got winded from carrying me up the three flights to my apartment. He’s got a lot of stamina.

  Good to know.

  Really good.

  Finally, as we drive along the outskirts of town a blanket of darkness envelopes us. We head down an empty country road and turn onto a long gravel driveway I would have missed if I’d been by myself
.

  My heart is pounding wildly. All sorts of horrific scenarios are playing out in my mind, and all of them end with my unexpected, but well planned by him, demise. If this was a normal circumstance under regular situations, I would have loved the location of Rock’s house. Out in the middle of nowhere, it’s like it has its own private sky that’s bursting with indigo and thousands of stars. But it’s not normal, and he’s not just any guy.

  And quite frankly, I’m not just any girl.

  Going back and forth from, God, look at how beautiful it is out here, to, What the hell am I doing? I MUST be out of my mind, I keep my eyes transfixed on my surroundings, just in case I have to make a run for it.

  Riiiiiight, with a bum knee you can’t even stand on. Good thinking, brainiac.

  “Hey,” Rock’s voice is soft as it bursts the smoke of my serial killer scenarios. “Relax, you’re here only so I can take care of you and so you won’t damage that knee anymore.” He clasps my hand that’s got a white knuckle grip on the edge of my seat and peers sideways at me, “Okay?”

  Despite all the news kidnapping stories I can recall replaying in my mind, which are exactly zero, I relax.

  Well, at least my fear dissipates. What’s left is all his sexiness and hotness, his dark charm and cocky attitude, melting every single one of my defenses.

  I’ll be lucky if I don’t translate his question, ‘Can I get you something to drink?’ to ‘Let’s fuck.’

  Coming around a turn, the headlights illuminate a log cabin at the end of the drive. The closer we get, the better it comes into view. And what a view it is.

  It’s immaculate, complete with a wrap-around porch across the front of the house with white rocking chairs. And a porch swing. Just like he said, it’s a single story one level, but what a house it is. It’s not a tiny little cottage, but huge. Big enough for a family of five.

  My gaze shifts to Rock as he slides the gearshift into park and turns off the ignition.

  “This is your house?” I ask, my surprise making my voice sound too high.

  “Yep. I like my privacy. And my space,” he turns his attention to me and grins.

  That panty melting smile is going to be the end of me, I swear.

  “It’s beautiful,” all of it is from what I can see. Through the darkness, I can make out trees and manicured hedges, edging, all signs of landscaping.

  He shakes his head like he’s brushing off the compliment. “Thanks. Let’s get you inside. I’ll go up and unlock the door, then bring you in.”

  “Alright. I really hate that I’m such a burden.”

  His eyes bore into mine. “You are not a burden, I’m glad you’re here. Now stop that, I’ll be right back.”

  He exits the car and I watch him, his ass and his legs, as he walks up the couple of steps to his front door.

  Is there not one part of his body I don’t want to bite? Just look at his ass. Now that I’m alone, I groan.

  I openly study him as he turns and jogs down the steps back to me.

  Rock’s not your typical tattooed rocker/biker guy. There’s a lot more to him under his tough surface. I’ve seen his protective side with the little-peckered twat, Steve. What else is hidden beneath that ink?

  I have a feeling I’m getting ready to find out.

  Butterflies and tremors shoot through me and make me tremble.

  I follow Rock with my eyes as he jogs to my door, my breathing coming faster and my heart pounding harder.

  When he opens it and lowers his head to peer at me through the opening, I know my eyes have got to be wide with anticipation.

  He gives me a sly grin, his eyes full of a secret.

  “Are you ready for me, princess?”

  ROCK

  CHAPTER 10

  She’s staring at me like I’m a big bad wolf and she’s a cornered little bunny and I’m about to swallow her whole.

  I hold out my hand to her and give her a minute to get her bearings.

  Yeah, I came on pretty strong at her shop that first day. Yeah, the innuendos with the guys the first time they went in were pretty heavy. We gave her a lot to think about, some pretty wild shit to take in.

  But she’s a tough girl inside all that innocence and femininity. I really doubt there isn’t too much she’d run from, not saying that she’d line up for all the things that we put on the table. I just don’t think it would scare her.

  She’s here, isn’t she?

  “Ready, princess?” I grin and give her a cheeky wink.

  Instantly her look of uncertainty vanishes as she hrrrrrmpphs and takes my hand.

  “Yes, I’m ready.”

  That’s my girl.

  I help her swing her legs out of the car, then scoop her up, go up the steps and into the house.

  I wonder what she’s going to think when she sees them?

  The house is dark except for the bright light streaming in through the windows from the spot lights on the porch. I could walk the entirety of the house without any light and not trip over anything, it’s burned into my senses. But I turn on the foyer light for Summer.

  Truthfully I’ve been apprehensive anticipating what Summer’s reaction would be once she came into my home. I couldn’t wait to see what she’d say, if anything, about my art.

  I hit the light switch with my elbow as I walk into the great room and the large space is instantly swathed in soft recessed lighting that focuses mostly on the walls, and what’s hanging on them. Walking around the light brown leather sofa, I lay Summer gently down on it then stand, my body shielding her view from the portraits on the walls behind me.

  “I’ll run and get everything out of the car. Are you comfortable for a minute?”

  “Rock, don’t worry about me, you’ve been so kind, thank you for everything, really.”

  I hope you’ll still be thinking that once I move.

  I bend so my face is level with hers and each of my hands rest on both sides of her head on the back of the couch behind her. I want to kiss her so damn bad. She’s attracted to me too, I can see it in her eyes, in the way her chest rises and falls with each heavy breath, and I feel her hunger when she looks at me.

  But that’s not why I brought her here.

  Yes, I’ll play with her, but I’m not fucking her.

  Unless that’s what she wants.

  “Welcome to my home, Summer. I hope you like it.” my voice is low but my eyes don’t flinch from hers.

  “Thank you, it’s very lovely,” she whispers.

  I smile. It’s devilish, it’s sly, but it’s real.

  “You haven’t seen everything.”

  Her eyes go wide. I stand, my eyes never leaving hers. Neither of us break the stare. She’s trying to figure out what the hell I’m talking about, deciding on if it was a bad idea coming here I don’t doubt. Me, I’m just stalling.

  Part of me wants to blurt out what I want. The other part wants to remain just being the guy from the tattoo shop next door.

  Fuck it. It’s way too late for that. I know what I’ve wanted from the first time I saw her.

  I step out from in front of her. As I walk around to the back of the couch, I hear Summer’s gasp. Fighting the urge to look at her expression, I keep heading toward the front door.

  The cat’s out of the bag.

  My feet move slowly down the steps back to the car. I pop the trunk and get her bag and the supplies we purchased from the drugstore.

  Fucking relax, it’s not like it’s porn or anything. It’s art. She’s just a girl, just like the rest of them.

  Then why the hell am I so worried about her reaction, I’ve never cared what anyone’s thought before?

  Because it’s Summer. And you fucking LIKE her, dipshit. You don’t just want to use her; you want to make something come alive with her.

  I grab the bags, slam the trunk, and stomp back up the two steps silently growling in frustration.

  Might as well get this shit over with.

  I take her bag to the guest be
droom, I’m probably still stalling, before I meet her back in the great room. I pause in the doorway. Summer’s attention’s focused on my artwork. I lean against the doorframe and watch her, giving her time to take it in.

  I’d love to know what she’s thinking.

  Finally, she turns around.

  The way she looks, the expression on her face, slams over me.

  Her face is flushed and there’s a look of amazement on her beautiful face.

  “Show them to me, Rock, I want to see them better.”

  Thank fuck.

  Silently, I push off the wall and go to her. Without saying a word, I bend and take her in my arms again as she holds me around my neck, looking at me completely differently. I approach the wall and stand in front of the first piece. Both Summer and I study it.

  It’s a nude of a woman, they all are, but they’re so much more.

  In this one I painted her body as a river, the water moving and flowing along her curves, and the backdrop is a landscape I superimposed behind her. The next one, I painted the woman’s body as part of the chipped grey building behind her. In another I made the model a stunning serpent, but that one is a little different. I painted the tropical rainforest background, it being surreal, the woman being the only true living thing.

  The women are all different. They’re not what matters, it’s the art.

  With Summer, it’s going to be different.

  “They’re all so beautiful,” there’s reverence in her voice and it humbles me. “They’re all alive,” I walk her slowly from one to the next not saying anything. Finally, at the last one, “I’m speechless, Rock. They’re incredible.”

  Walking her back to the couch, I lay her down and sit with her.

  “I’m glad you like them.” I pause and grin at her. “Because I want to do you.”

  Her eyes slowly widen as a blush creeps across her pale cheeks.

  “Me? Why? I’m nobody.”

  “But that’s where you’re wrong,” I pull her feet onto my lap, take her shoes off and toss them to the floor then start to massage her feet. I gaze at the artwork, “All of those, the piece was the art.” I look back at her, “In yours, you are going to be the object. It has to be all about you.”