“There you are.” He smiled, staring at me. “I wondered if you’d changed your mind.”
“No.”
“You look petrified.”
I eyed the velvet loveseat, knowing I would be reclining on it…naked. A light was positioned in front of it.
“Please. Make yourself comfortable.”
That means, get naked, Jess. Ugh.
“Couldn’t I pose in my underwear?”
He sighed. “That defeats the purpose of a nude still life.” He opened a cabinet. “Here. Let me show you what I’m talking about.”
A canvas emerged of an oil painting of a nude woman with huge looking breasts. It was Roberta. There was a slight smile on her face, and her body was positioned in such a way that her pubic area was hidden. There was nothing gratuitous or sexual about the pose, although my mother would beg to differ. It was simply a portrait of a beautiful naked woman who looked lifelike and glowing.
“You’re good.”
“I’m glad you think so.” Amusement glimmered in his eyes.
“Is this what you do for a living?”
“No. It’s a hobby. I paint in the summer.”
I remembered him being some sort of businessman. “What do you do the rest of the year?”
“Work in finance, which is a tedious bore.”
“Oh.”
“So, let’s get started, shall we?” He waved his hand towards the sofa. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get you a cover-up.” He opened a drawer and handed me a white sheet. “Go change in the other room and come back. You can disrobe slowly, if you like.”
That appealed to me. Perhaps I could keep it on indefinitely. Feeling slightly less fearful, I took the sheet and left the room, stripping down to nothing and wrapping it around me. When I returned, the light was on, and he was fluffing up a pillow. I sat on the sofa, while anxious bundles of energy had me trembling slightly.
“Okay.” He eyed me almost clinically. “I need you to sit back and put one arm on the seat.” I did as he asked. The hand that rested on the sofa shook ever so slightly. He tugged on the sheet. “This has to go.”
I swallowed, gazing at the covering that was draped over my breasts. Without it he would see the hardness of my nipples and everything else. “I…fine.” I pulled it away, exposing the lightly tanned quality of my skin. If the sight of my naked breasts had affected him, he did not show it. He simply tossed the sheet away and took my hand, placing it on the sofa.
“You need to get comfortable, Jessica. You’ll be in this position a while.”
“I-okay.”
He moved my hair, placing it over my breast. Standing back, he stared at me, his eyes darting back and forth. “No. Let’s do this instead.” His fingers were in my hair again, only this time he moved the silky strands behind my back, exposing me again. “That’s better.” Then he fiddled with the light, adjusting it to point over my head, instead of in my face, which was a relief. “Okay. I think we got it.” The cool air of morning made me shiver slightly. “I have a space heater, if you need one.”
“I’m a little cold.”
“I’ll get it.”
Once the heater was on, he sat on his stool, and began to paint. The sound of classical music filled the air. If I had been worried about his intentions, I shouldn’t have. He was methodical, clinical, and detached in his approach. I stared at him while he painted, almost memorizing the way his hair fell onto his forehead. He looked younger this morning, his features were relaxed, his jaw wasn’t as tight, and his attention was interested and…inspired?
Carmen suddenly appeared in the doorway. “Ha! I knew it! You weren’t going to tell me, were you?”
“Hi.”
“I knew he’d get you. Those boobs are way too awesome not to paint.” She wandered over and stared at Joseph’s work. “It’s taking shape. He painted me too, ya know. Last year.” She scratched her chin. “It didn’t take long to corrupt her, eh? She’s only been here two days and look at her.”
Joseph gave his daughter a look. “You’re one to talk.”
“You’re such a dork for taking pictures of us. That’s like totally disturbing.”
His attention was on the canvas. “No. It’s beautiful. I’m going to paint them one of these days.”
Carmen glanced at me. “You look nice, Jess.”
I felt heat on my cheeks. “Th-thanks.”
“I’m gonna take a shower, and I’ll be back. Do you need anything?”
“Can you get Jessica a bottle of water out of the fridge?”
“Sure.”
She left the room and returned a moment later, handing me the bottle. “Here ya go.”
“Thanks.”
There was something puzzling in her look, but then it disappeared. “See ya later.”
After she left, Joseph continued to paint, taking a break at the one-hour mark. The pungent smell of solvents lingered in the air. I wrapped the sheet around me and glanced at the progress. The image of a woman reclining on a sofa with soft, feminine curves, lush breasts, and a slender waist were visible. The face was blank.
“I’ll fill it in last,” he said.
“Oh.”
“What do you think?”
“It’s nice.”
He sat with his hands on his thighs. Little blotches of paint were on his skin. I never realized how warm his eyes were; the brownish pupils had little flecks in them. His lashes were thick and long, and his mouth was fuller than I expected. A rush of longing went through me, heady and bewildering. He seemed to feel it too because he tilted his head slightly, staring at me with a look of startled recognition.
He cleared his throat. “I’m gonna grab a coffee. You want anything?”
“No.”
He strolled into the kitchenette. “You’re an easy model.”
“Thanks.” I stared out the window at flowering bushes, which moved in the breeze. “I think we can shut the heater off.”
“Yeah. Go for it. Just pull the plug outta the wall.”
When he returned and the break was over, he painted me for another hour and then called it quits. I dressed in the other room and wandered in to look at the painting. Joseph had turned the music off and left. I stared at the naked woman in the picture. He had filled in my face.
“He likes you.” Carmen was back.
“Huh?”
“He likes you.” She stared at the painting.
“I…how do you mean?”
She shook her head. “The way he paints you. It’s different.”
“It’s like his other work.”
“No.” She opened a cabinet and retrieved her painting. “Look at my face. It’s not like yours at all.”
I laughed, “That’s because you’re a different person. Duh.”
“No, that’s not it. There’s something missing in mine. I look…kinda plain. My eyes are like dead or something. He’s got you way better. There’s a lot going on in your face. You look so soft and fuzzy and gorgeous. Mine is dull.”
I stared at each painting in turn and agreed with her, albeit silently. “The subject matter is different, that’s why.”
“It shouldn’t be.” She stared at my portrait. “He likes you.”
“You keep saying that.”
“I think he wants to fuck you.”
I gasped, “Carmen!”
“He painted you like somebody would paint their lover.”
Her observations produced little tingles in my tummy. She was confirming what I had secretly been hoping. “It’s just a painting.”
“No.”
“I gotta shower and have lunch.”
She shrugged. “I should be jealous.”
I pushed her gently. “Stop it. You’re being so weird.”
“I can feel it. When I came in here earlier, there was a total sex vibe going on between you.”
“That’s not true.”
She nodded. “I know you pretty well, Jess; maybe even better than you know yourself. I know my
dad too. He’s totally interested.”
This conversation was disturbing. I had to deflect the situation. “Let’s go back to the house.”
Her eyes watered unexpectedly. “I hate that I’m gonna have to share you. It sucks.”
“That’s ridiculous. It’s just nude modeling, and he’s married.”
“They haven’t been intimate in years.”
This bit of information was stunning. “How do you know that?”
“Like, hello. I live with them. I know.”
“Well, I gotta eat something. I’m starving.”
Our conversation had my mind spinning, and, as we headed for the house, a strange anticipatory energy raced through me. I had felt an immense attraction towards Joseph today. He had always affected me strangely, even as a child. I couldn’t help feeling that I was on the edge of something immense and possibly dangerous. My emotions churned and roiled, like a boat on a stormy sea. My insides were in turmoil, and the weather mimicked me, the clouds gathering throughout the afternoon, the moisture hanging in the air. Before the guests arrived, the skies opened and a torrential downpour accompanied by thunder, shook the house; the flashes of light outside were almost blinding.
I posed before a mirror, eyeing my outfit. “I love this dress.”
“It looks amazing on you,” murmured Carmen. She’d worn a light blue gown with see-through sleeves ending at the wrists. The bodice was low-cut, exposing her modest cleavage. A white mask hid her eyes. “You’re gorgeous, Jess. I’m totally jealous.”
I’d found a black velvet dress in the back of a closet. The formfitting outfit skimmed over every curve. “Thanks.” I felt almost naked in the soft, utterly comfortable material. My breasts were pressed upwards; the swell of my cleavage was substantial. I planned to hide behind the mask all night. It was the only way I was going to have the courage to go out in public looking like this.
“Pictures. We gotta take pictures.” She held a cellphone. “Smile.”
I posed for her. “Gimme that. It’s my turn. Take your mask off. I can’t see you.”
“Too bad.”
“Dork.”
“Come on. Let’s party!”
A sea of colorful costumes greeted us downstairs. Most women wore cocktail dresses, while a few had adorned themselves in ball gowns. Everyone hid behind a mask, and it was fun guessing who was who. Abby and Madison had on frilly, pretty dresses with silly masks. Roberta looked like she had stepped out of a scene from Gone With the Wind. A band played music, while couples danced. I drank champagne, as did Carmen, and we hung out with Sonya and Christian, who wore a Phantom of the Opera costume. He looked handsome in his white and black mask.
“I thought I recognized you,” said Constance. She wasn’t wearing a mask. “You look lovely, Jessica.” Her eyes skimmed over me, pausing on my breasts. “You’ve blossomed, actually. What a difference a couple of days makes.”
Her gown was form-fitting and low-cut. “I love your dress, Mrs. Hollander.”
“Thank you.” She squinted into the crowd. “And here comes my husband. I hear you’re his latest model.”
This was awkward. “Y-yes. I am.”
“You should dance with him.” Her look was peculiar. “You want to. Don’t you?”
Chapter Eight
A tall man in a gray suit made his way through the crowd. His dark, gray-streaked hair was combed back, and a simple black mask hid his eyes, which flashed with interest. It seemed like I was the only person in the room he was looking at, and, in that hypnotic and confusing moment, I felt my heart flip over, thudding in my chest, forcing the swell of my breasts to press against the velvet material of my dress.
“Isn’t she lovely?” asked Constance.
“Yes, she is.” His voice had taken on a seductive timbre.
“You should dance with her. I’ll see if Rose is ready to come down. She said she wasn’t feeling well.”
“Let me know if you need help.” He kissed her cheek, whispering, “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She seemed stiff and detached, as she brushed by him.
He took my hand, his eyes skimming over me. “That’s some dress.”
“Thanks. You look nice too.” Ugh. What a lame thing to say. I shook myself mentally for being so nervous. He’d seen me naked this morning. Why the shyness?
The band began to play a love song from the 80’s. I didn’t recognize the artist, but the melody was endearing. The furniture in the living room had been removed, clearing the space for an enormous dance floor equipped with a disco ball and strobe lights. Dozens of couples danced, some waltzing, while others swayed to the music. He took me in his arms, my body pressed to his. I inhaled his cologne, which set off a burst of tingles. His hand was on my back, the touch producing goose bumps up and down my arms. I was so overwhelmed by the contact I hid my face on his shoulder, afraid to look up.
“You look so beautiful, Jessica.”
“Um…huh…”
He chuckled, the vibration rumbling in his chest. “Not used to compliments, are we?”
“I’ve never danced. I feel weird. I’ve never worn anything like this before.”
“What about this morning? You had nothing on at all.”
“That was weird too.”
“You didn’t really think I’d send those pictures to your mother, did you?”
“I hope not.”
“I was joking. I could tell it bothered you.”
“That’s not nice.”
“No it isn’t,” he chuckled. “It worked, though. I got you naked.”
The tone of his voice was low and intimate. I turned my face into his neck, feeling the heat coming off him. “My mother would totally freak out if she knew.”
We spun around in slow circles. “Then we better not tell her.”
A burst of tingles constricted my throat, making talk impossible. I was so profoundly shocked to feel this way, that I closed my eyes and let the moment overwhelm me. The music, the clinking of glasses, the low murmurings of voices, and the feel of being in strong arms was oddly soothing. I’d always found him intimidating, but now…it was different. His hand on my back massaged gently, each touch producing thrilling little tingles that vibrated with sensual energy. We didn’t speak again as another song began. My face was close to his skin, which radiated heat and smelled lightly of lemon and cedar with musky undertones. I’d melted into him, using him like one would a comfortable piece of furniture. I felt entirely at ease in his arms. I never wanted to leave. We turned around and around, swaying gently to the beat.
“We should take a walk.”
I’d go anywhere with him. “Sure.”
He led me out the patio doors towards the garden, passing several couples along the way. I saw Carmen in the distance laughing with Stuart, who was dressed in a black cape. I found myself near the roses, the smell nearly overpowering. We sat on a bench in a dark corner, his arm around my shoulder.
“I think I’m in trouble.”
I glanced at him. “What do you mean?”
He’d removed his mask. His look was fixated on nothing in particular. “I wasn’t expecting you. I shouldn’t be feeling like this. I’m trying to understand it. Maybe it’s a midlife crisis. Or a chemical imbalance.” He chuckled, “It might be time to see my shrink again.”
“I…like you too.”
“I know.”
“How do you know?” His look had me tingling.
“I can read the signs. I’ve been around a lot longer than you have.”
“Is that bad? It is, isn’t it? You’re married.”
“Constance and I…oh, hell, I really don’t want to get into it. I’m not worried about my marriage. I’m worried about you. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. I knew you as a kid, for Christ’s sake. You’re my daughter’s best friend. I feel like a dirty old pervert. I am a dirty old pervert.”
“I’m not a kid anymore.”
“No, you’re not.” His heated gaze roamed
over me. “You’re a beautiful woman. I wasn’t expecting this. When you showed up in that hideous sundress, I knew I was screwed. You’re so young and fresh. You’re like a blank page that hasn’t been written on. Or as least you were. Leave it to Carmen to corrupt you.” His look suddenly grew questioning. “Are you a lesbian?”
I was still digesting everything he had said, the words registering in little shocks. “No. I’m…not.” I enjoyed sleeping with Carmen. “Or maybe I am. I don’t know. I’ve never done any of that before. I’ve never been with a man. I don’t even know if I’ll like it. I kissed Stuart, and I hated it.”
“You kissed the gardener?” A hint of a smile played around his mouth.
“It was Carmen’s idea.”
“I bet.”
“I’d rather kiss you.”
Emboldened by his look and the warmth in his eyes, I leaned into him and brushed my lips against his. I thought for a moment that he might pull away, but he grasped my face and opened his mouth, sliding his tongue between my lips. He tasted of wine, potent and heady, and as the kiss deepened, I moaned helplessly.
He shot to his feet. “Let’s go somewhere else.” Stunned, I let him drag me away, around the side of the house, to a back door. We entered a dimly lit hallway, which led to a set of stairs. He was taking me to my room, and I would not stop him. I opened the door to find a single light on, which was a desk lamp against the wall. He turned to me, his look hungry and predatory. “Tell me to leave, and I will.”
“No.”
“Take off your dress.”
The demand had me catching my breath. “I-all right.” I stepped out of my heels and let a strap down. It slid to my elbow. He stared at where my hand was, following the movement with obsessive interest. The next strap ended in the same place, the material slack, revealing almost all of my breasts.
“I can’t get the zipper.” I turned my shoulder towards him. “Can you get it?”
He approached and reached for me, his warm hands on my shoulders. His face was in my neck, creating little pulses of pleasure. “I want you so badly, Jessica. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone like this before.”
“You can have me,” I whispered.
In The Garden Of Snakes (An Erotic Summer Tryst) Page 5