by Lilli Feisty
“Does it feel good, sweetheart?”
“Yes, it feels so good… Ah!”
“You like me watching you?” His cock was throbbing with a need to drive into her. She was so gorgeous…. It took every ounce of restraint he had in him to stay where he was. And he had to capture her like this; raising the lens to his eye, he began shooting her.
It seemed to turn her on even more. She moaned again and opened her legs so wide her knees touched either side of the counter. Head thrown back, she bucked against her hand, using her fingers to pull her clit.
“I’m going to come, Ash…”
“Yes, baby. Come now, for me.”
She went still, crying out one last time, and he clicked the shutter, catching her moment of ecstasy on film.
She slumped on the counter, looking exhausted. He put his camera in its case and then lifted her in his arms.
“You… ,” she murmured against his neck. “I still want to feel you. In me.”
“That’s convenient because if I don’t bury myself in you within minutes, I’m going to fucking explode.”
In the bedroom, he stood her on her feet and lifted her dress over her head. He tossed it aside and watched as she did the same with her bra.
Then she was bare before him.
His breath hitched. “You’re…” He saw vulnerability flash through her eyes, and he was there in an instant, cupping her face in his palm. She seemed so small next to his long limbs. “Stunning.”
She bit her lip in a tiny smile. “If you say so.”
“I know so.” He kissed her, only stopping when he felt her body go slack in his arms. He leaned her back onto the bed until she lay before him.
She watched as he undressed, kicking off his boots, jeans, and T-shirt. When he was naked, her eyes fell on his cock and she licked her lips as he rolled on a condom.
“Turn over,” he instructed.
Without hesitation, she flipped onto her stomach, raising her ass in invitation.
“Goddamn, Joy…” He climbed onto the bed behind her, spreading her ass cheeks to gaze at her pussy. It was all an invitation for pleasure: her pink lips, her entrance.
He took his cock in his hands and slid between her slick folds, using the tip of his erection to stroke her, gliding his throbbing flesh along hers, from her clit to her anus and back again, stroking until he felt her pussy swell around him, until he felt her slickness coating him.
“Fuck me, Ash!”
“Yes.” He thrust inside her, pausing for a moment to feel her clench around him. “Yes, Joy… My God, you feel good.”
He saw her hands clench at the sheets, saw her shoulders tremble. He pulled out and plunged in again and again, until they both went down flat and he was lying on top of her. She felt her hips moving beneath him, back and forth between his cock and the mattress.
“Ah… yes… ,” she cried. “Ash, I…”
Pulling her hair to the side, he leaned down to kiss the nape of her neck as he continued to ride her, driving her deeper and deeper into the bed.
“Bite…”
A fresh wave of lust washed over him at her words, and he bent to her shoulder and tasted her salty flesh. He brushed her skin with his teeth and then bit her softly on the shoulder.
“Oh, yes!”
He reached under her body to find her pussy, wet and damp as he cupped her. She responded by spreading her legs wider, sinking into his hand and moaning loudly.
He bit her shoulder again, and she cried out one final time, her inner muscles clenching and spasming around his cock. She’d thrust her ass back against him, and when he came, he was buried in her deep, so deep….
After he’d caught his breath and disposed of the condom, he immediately crawled back into bed and lay on his side. He pulled Joy against him and tucked her ass against his pelvis. He had to admit they fit so damn good like this—like two puzzle pieces.
He gave himself an inward shake. What was he thinking?
Joy wiggled her sweet ass against him, and his cock stirred. He should go. But she felt so damn good next to him. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the vanilla scent. And there it was again, that feeling of… nothing. He wasn’t antsy or thinking of where to go next. For once, his mind was still.
This wasn’t how he thought it would be. He didn’t need any more commitments, and even if he did, he wanted someone who was organized, responsible, and dependable. And neat.
Or so he’d thought.
But he could trust her. Tugging her closer, he kissed her neck, and she rewarded him with one of those soft sighs that made his pulse speed up a notch.
He’d never believed a man like him could ever be happy settling with one woman forever. Giving up fieldwork forever. But as Joy’s breathing turned into the steady, even pattern of sleep, he experienced a strange yearning to be with her. For once the ever-dreaded notion of settling down was appealing.
And it scared the shit out of him.
Chapter Seventeen
The door opened, and Joy looked up. Customers! Smiling, she allowed the couple to peruse the collection on their own—she didn’t want to seem pushy. Youngish and hip-looking, they actually looked like potential clients. Real ones!
After a few minutes, Joy stood and approached them. “Can I tell you about any piece in particular?” she asked, clasping her hands behind her back.
The woman, a blonde with a bag loudly declaring the designer’s expensive logo, turned to her. “Do you have any Kinkade?”
She had beautiful, original pieces on the walls, but no one seemed interested. She smiled tightly. “The Kinkade gallery is just up the street on the right.”
They thanked her and left.
Sinking back into her chair, Joy began scribbling on a scrap of paper. Damn, fuck, shit… She surrounded this tirade in bows before tearing it up and tossing the shreds into the garbage.
Now, with the gallery empty again, her thoughts turned once more to the upcoming opening. Two weeks until the gallery had its reception for Ash Hunter: Sex in Your City, and Joy still didn’t have the sculpture back. Chewing on her fifth antacid tablet that day, she stared around the empty room, pondering what to do.
Tell him!
He’ll kill me!
You deserve it!
She dropped her head into her palms, swallowing down the last of the sickly sweet tablet. It didn’t seem to matter how many of the things she popped, she couldn’t get rid of the nerves burning a hole in her stomach. She was sure she was getting an ulcer.
Every day she waited for the UPS delivery person to bring her the package so she could sneak back into the museum and replace the sculpture. Her plan was simple. She had friends who worked there; all she had to do was make up a reason to be allowed inside the secure doors, and she’d replace the sculpture where’d she found it. It was a good plan.
If only she had the sculpture to return. The deliveryman had just brought some packages, but there was nothing for her other than some brochures she’d ordered for the upcoming exhibit.
You are so fucked.
Her cell phone rang, and she flipped it open. “Erica, hey.”
“Don’t sound so happy to hear from me.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just having…” She chuckled and it sounded a bit frenzied. “One of those days.”
“I wanted to know if you’re up for Monday night cocktails or if you’re busy.”
Joy blinked. Erica’s tone actually suggested she wouldn’t kill her if Joy flaked.
“I’m definitely coming,” Joy said. This week’s Sunday brunch with Grandmother had been even more stressful than usual, because Joy had made the mistake of wearing one of her new outfits (apparently a girl with Joy’s skin tone should never wear cobalt blue), she was stressing more than ever over the sculpture, and Ash hadn’t called since Saturday.
“Count me in. I could definitely use some inebriation.”
“You can tell me all about it at Mario’s.”
“Can’t wait,�
�� Joy said, popping another Tums.
“I don’t know,” Joy muttered later that night at the bar. She swallowed deeply from her margarita glass. “I thought things were going okay, but I haven’t heard from him in two days.”
Scott raised a brow. “Have you called him?”
“No,” Joy muttered.
“Why not?” Kate asked incredulously. “You’ve been sleeping together. You have every right to call!”
“I know,” Joy said. “I just don’t want to bother him.” The truth was she could barely stand to look at him or hear his voice knowing she was deceiving him.
She wished she had just come out and told him right away; if she had, things probably wouldn’t be so bad now. But she’d waited so long, and the more she got to know Ash, the more she couldn’t bear to let him down.
Unless that sculpture was delivered while she still had time to replace it, she was going to have to tell him everything. But time was running out all too quickly.
Joy frowned. “Why do we always spend so much time talking about my love life, anyway?”
Scott laughed. “Honey, it’s because your love life is such a train wreck! It’s like… reality TV, right before our very eyes.” He waved his hand as if producing a magical television before them.
“It’s not a train wreck.” It was sooo a train wreck. “Very often,” she added weakly.
Erica, who’d been strangely silent during all this, looked into the depths of her drink. “Do you like this guy?”
Just the thought of Ash made her hot. All over. “Yeah. I really do.”
“He better not hurt you; that’s all I can say.” Or I’ll kill him. The words hung in the air, mainly because, after Cartwright, Erica had repeated that phrase about a million times.
Joy took a deep breath. “There’s something else I think I neglected to mention.” She sucked the straw of her margarita until there was a gurgling sound. “You know the show I have coming up featuring Ash?”
Three heads nodded.
“Well… you’re all going to find this really funny.” She plucked Scott’s vodka tonic out of his hand and drank that, too. “You know how it’s a show of erotic photographs and some sculpture?”
“What are you trying to say, Joy?” Scott asked, taking back his now-empty drink with a scowl.
“I’m kind of the model in some of the photographs.”
Dead silence.
Then Kate finally said, “Oh my God. Are you serious?”
She saw a muscle twitch under Erica’s eye. “Are you nude?”
Joy felt her entire face begin to burn. There was nothing more attractive than a redhead blushing—not!
She nodded. “Yes, in some.”
“But… but… ,” Kate stuttered.
Straightening, Joy clenched her fists. “What? You don’t think I’m pretty enough to be featured?”
“No!” Kate said. “That’s not it at all.”
“Then what is it?” Joy demanded, her voice high.
Scott placed a soft hand on her shoulder. “It’s just that you’ve never been comfortable even being in a bathing suit at the beach, and now you’re posing nude for an exhibit to be seen by hundreds—maybe thousands—of people? Your potential clients?”
Joy felt the blood drain from her face. She hadn’t really thought about it quite like that. “I’ve seen the photographs. They’re not crude.”
Scott squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sure they’re not, sweetie. We’re just surprised, right, gang?”
Kate nodded.
Erica looked like she was going to rip someone’s head off. “Let me get this straight. You’re going to be selling naked pictures of yourself?”
“I’m not naked in all of them,” Joy murmured, sinking down in the booth. In fact, Ash used light and shadow to hide most of her private parts. That was one of the things she found so beautiful about his work. When you looked close, the beauty of his pieces was really in the forms, the shades of gray in the images. “And furthermore, I’m not the only model.”
“How did he talk you into this?” Erica demanded.
“He… he…” She wasn’t even sure she knew. “He just did!”
“For heaven’s sake, Joy,” Erica said.
But Kate looked thoughtful. “I think it’s great.”
“What?” Joy said, snapping her attention to her friend. Tonight Kate was wearing tight leggings and a fuchsia top that dipped way beyond the curves of her breasts.
“Yeah,” Kate said, waving her hand. Joy couldn’t help but notice her nails were the exact same color of pink as her shirt. “Let’s face it, Joy. You’ve never realized how pretty you are. Since you’ve been with Ash, you seem more confident. You’re comfortable enough to let him take sexy photos of you.” She gave Joy a once-over. “And you even went shopping and bought some clothes that aren’t two sizes too big. Yup. I think it’s a good thing.”
Joy looked over to find Erica staring silently at her. Finally she asked, “So. You really like him?”
Slowly, Joy nodded.
“And he likes you.”
“I think he does.”
“Well,” Erica said after a sip of her drink. “He better be good to you, or like I said, he’ll have me to answer to.”
Everyone at the table made fake oooohh, scary, sounds. But Joy’s sound wasn’t quite as fake as the others.
“Here comes the rain again… ,” Andrew hummed absently as he surfed the Internet in the quiet gallery.
Through the large gallery windows, Joy watched people running along the sidewalk, hovering under umbrellas or crouching under wet newspapers if they’d gone out unprepared.
Apathetically, Joy glanced around the gallery, looking for a newspaper.
She heard the sound of her cell phone, its ringtone of the muffled chorus to “Hips Don’t Lie” coming from deep inside her purse. “Damn,” she muttered when she glanced at the caller ID, but she answered it anyway. “Hi, Grandma.”
“Hello, dear. Are you busy?”
Joy started doodling on her scrap paper. “Well, I’m at work, Grandmother, as I usually am on Tuesdays.”
“Right,” she said, as if Joy was just pretending to have a job. “Well, do you think you could come over and do me a favor?”
Nooooo, Joy doodled and surrounded the word with a rainbow. “Sure, what do you need?” she asked, wishing she’d let the call go to voice mail.
“Well, with all this rain, I’m afraid my patio roses and hanging planters are going to blow away. I need help bringing everything in.”
“I’d love to, but I need to have my tires rotated before I drive in this weather. I’m way overdue.” Sometimes being irresponsible came in hardy.
“Oh, it’s just a sprinkle outside. Besides, that was my car for ten years before I gave it to you, and I never had one problem.”
Oh, sure. Remind me that you gave me the car—lay on the guilt, why don’t you?
Still, Joy wasn’t lying about the tires; she’d already skidded coming down Geary earlier that day. “Can’t you call David?” You know, the brother who lives five instead of forty-five minutes away?
“He’s busy doing an important surgery.”
Of course he is, and her other brothers would have similar excuses. “Fine. I’ll leave work at four and drive straight there.”
“You can’t come any earlier?”
“I need to close the gallery, Grandmother.”
“Fine,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll see you later, then. Oh, and I’ll make you a lovely dinner for coming. Something low-calorie; I know you’re on a diet.”
“Gee, thanks, Grandmother.”
“You’re welcome, dear. See you tonight.”
That afternoon, UPS delivered a box from Little Rock, Arkansas, addressed to Joy Montgomery. Her heart thundered in her ears as she realized it was finally here. The sculpture had finally arrived.
Locking herself in the bathroom, her heart leaped as she sat on the toilet and placed the box on her lap. Sh
e carefully cut through the tape using a box cutter. At last! Tomorrow she could go to the museum and put it back in that dingy cabinet. Museum personnel were expecting her to come to take pictures of Ash’s work for the upcoming exhibit, and while she was there, she would simply return the stolen piece.
“Yes!” The clients had used newspaper to wrap the small sculpture, and now Joy dug through the pages of the Little Rock Review until she saw some white marble, the top of the female figure’s head. Gently, she lifted the piece out of the box.
And her heart stopped.
It was just as beautiful as she remembered. She ran her fingertips over the smooth form. It was erotic as ever, and a wonderful thrill went through her.
“You okay in there?” Andrew said through the door.
Deep breaths. She said in a high-pitched voice, “Yeah, just um, having some girl issues.”
“Say no more,” Andrew said quickly, and she heard his boots clicking as he walked away.
Okay. Now she had the sculpture. She could return it, and Ash would be none the wiser. A niggle of guilt reminded her that she was still being slightly dishonest, but it was better than causing unnecessary stress between them, right? Especially when no harm would come of it.
You’re so open, Joy. So truthful. He’d said those things and she hadn’t denied it. She’d let him believe it.
Shut up.
She looked back at the beautiful sculpture in her hand. Such beauty, so much sexuality. The first time she’d seen it, she hadn’t really known what it would be like to feel the energy of being bound. Now that she had experienced such a thing, the piece became even more meaningful, more arousing.
Still, it was stolen. She’d stolen from Ash.
Impulsive, reckless, thoughtless…
All those things her grandmother had been saying for all these years…
She’d been right.
The rain had started again, and Erica responded by making a big pot of soup. She remembered when she was just a girl and her mother would make this exact recipe: sauté the leeks in butter, then add potatoes and broth. The trick was the spot of cream at the end. Not too much, just a bit to add a hint of richness. Perfect on a night like this. After all the crazy feelings she’d been experiencing lately, nothing sounded better than her mom’s soup and some fresh, crunchy bread.