The Finished Masterpiece Boxed Set - Pepper Winters Page 0,24

we had had failed us.

Stop it!

I couldn’t relive such things.

Couldn’t welcome such sadness.

The memory of the boy who’d stolen my heart made me soften toward the man who was winter itself. I returned to the present with its slightly chilly warehouse, mostly pretty paintwork, and eternally arctic overseer. “What design are you working on?” I looked down at my naked breasts, unable to see past my arm wedged between them to the picture slowly coming to life on my stomach and hips.

“Nothing.” Gil finished mixing whatever shade he required and climbed onto the podium beside me. “Stay still.” His lips thinned with demand, but I smiled gently.

“Okay, Gil.”

He stiffened at his name, reminding me all over again that there were so many unresolved things between us.

He’d made my school life a sanctuary, then jammed it full of misery. He’d twisted me up in ways I still hadn’t unravelled.

Sighing, I slipped back into the strained silence as Gil forgot about me and returned to his art. For the next hour, he focused on my legs. I hissed a couple of times as his air gun tickled between my toes and hid my sudden gasp when his brush traced between my legs like a lover’s caress.

I stared at him, my pulse gushing so fast it deafened me. I waited for another stroke, another whip of colour, but he carefully worked on the outside of my hip instead; his jaw locked and motions jerky.

Twisting a little, I did my best to rid the complicated desire he’d left me with. His fingertips instantly latched around my semi-painted hip. “Did I say you could move?”

He didn’t look up, and I was glad. Glad because I couldn’t stop the truth burning that his fingers were corrosive, sinking through my flesh, slicing through nerves, until he’d reached into my very body and held bone. My heart struck a match, burning itself, sending blood-red smoke to lick around my ribs.

What is going on with me?

Gil made me weak and violent. He made me want to cup his cheeks and demand answers all while slapping his currently cool face and screaming at him for leaving me.

Gritting my teeth hard enough to ache, I jerked my head up and focused away.

I didn’t follow his tangled hair as he continued to brush, shadow and light. I didn’t care that he studied my body in a way that was illegal for most bosses yet perfectly acceptable in this studio.

He hadn’t mentioned my tattoo or scars again since manhandling me into a pose against his black painted wall. He’d removed the offending ink by keeping my back hidden and directed one arm to twist around my waist while the other was placed between my breasts, framing my assets while my fingers locked tight around my nape for purchase.

There’d been no battling lust or buckling beneath desire when he’d touched me.

He’d successfully locked that part of himself away, leaving me at his mercy.

I moved to scratch my nose. The grumbling growl emitting from Gil as he mixed paint at my feet was enough for me to hastily resume the position.

Three hours was an eternity with no conversation when bodies constantly brushed against each other. My muscles turned stiff and achy. My patience quickly overshadowed by hunger.

When a muscle twitched involuntarily, I didn’t make a peep. When I trembled, Gil merely steadied me and kept on painting.

Our dealings with each other were as sharp and silent as knives.

Gil’s fingers brushed over my lower torso, teasing with the only piece of clothing covering me. He delicately drew a line of vibrant turquoise right along the ridge of my underwear. The brush tickled and made me suck in a breath, but worse, it made my belly clench and nerve endings spring into starving life.

His fingers feathered over my upper thigh as he sketched an outline. His minty breath skated over the tops of my breasts as he leaned closer to add detail. The outside of his hand brushed my nipple as he angled himself to airbrush my cleavage with a vibrant slash of magenta.

Holy...

I bit down on my bottom lip, doing my best to remain stiff and silent.

Time once again intruded on us. I steadily turned from a person into whatever he wanted me to be.

I’d been kidding myself that I could survive him. Years might’ve flowed between us but whatever it was that drew, linked, and bound us in school was still there. Only this time...it was stronger than a hum, deeper than a puddle, darker