thin strokes, cascading down toward the swell of my breasts and stopping short of the lacy fabric. “Why don’t I ever see you leaving the building on a date?”
Tingling sensations run from my chest down to my core as the brush lines the skin.
“I’m happier with the men I conjure up in my head than the ones in the real world.”
“Are you sure?”
Every time he lifts the brush to get more paint, I feel myself taking a desperately needed breath.
“I don’t know who he is, but the man who caused you to escape into your world of fake heroes and hide from the touch of a man was a coward.”
With him so near, I have a hard time breathing. He gets closer to give more detail to one of the rose petals he’s painting, and as I feel his breath against my skin, goose bumps instantly cover my body.
“How so?” I pant lightly.
His head is close to mine, and he only turns to meet my eyes. “He was too afraid that he wouldn’t be able to handle a gorgeous, fiery woman.”
Seeing him stare at me from such a low position causes a sharpness in my chest. I stumble over my words as I take a shaky breath in. I’m finally able to whisper, “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
He grins, and chills cover me again. “Only when I absolutely mean it.”
The peony I drew on his chest pales in comparison to the bold, large petals of the flower he’s making on me. Mine is puny while his is majestic.
“You’re an artist,” I say, catching him off guard. “The florals you create at the shop is an underappreciated art form. I’m in awe of you.”
“Says the woman who weaves words to make romantic heroes that women only dream about.”
“So, you agree they don’t really exist,” I challenge.
“Maybe you just need to dream while you’re awake.”
His words are poignant. I always feel like I’m dreaming when I’m writing, mixing prose together to create a world that only exists under the veil of night and literature. I don’t only want to feel these emotions when I’m reading a book. I want to touch and experience it in the light of day.
Swiping my finger in black paint, I slowly lower my hand to his golden skin and run it over his chest, feeling the heated skin and then flexing my hand over it. His heart beats wildly beneath my palm as I smear it down his body, running over every bump of his abs.
His gaze lifts to mine as his lips part. Placing his brush on the table, he follows suit, swirling his fingers in lavender and then laying them on my ribs. He lets his hand dance from left to right across my body, making me suck in air at the heady sensations that settle low, just at the top of my panties.
With blue, I explore his arms, and with pink, he caresses mine.
When my hands move to his sides, he laughs but doesn’t pull away, just as I let him coat my throat before his finger travels down my spine and settles near my ass.
This is, without a doubt, the sexiest thing I’ve ever done, and we’re hardly touching each other in a titillating manner. Having Jake’s hands on me is such a damn turn-on that I feel like we’ve had an hour of foreplay.
Our breaths are heavy, and our laughter is deep, depending on what we’re doing to the other. It all feels so good, and I don’t want it to end.
Rex walks over to check on us. “You two are pros at this. You both look great. What did you think?”
Besides the fact that I’m totally and utterly turned on right now?
“Very cool spot, Rex. I’ll be sure to check it out again,” Jake says nonchalantly, like he’s not affected the way I am.
I hate that I feel a pang of disappointment at the thought of him coming here again with someone else.
They both turn to me.
“What did you think, Lace? Glad you came?” Rex asks.
“This is most definitely a place I’ll never forget.”
“Nice,” Rex says with a huge smile. “Let’s get you home while the image is still fresh in your mind, and feel free to plug my shop name in the book.” He winks.
For a moment, I forgot the reason we came. While I loved being part of the scene, I have to remind myself that I’m only here for research.
Jake stands, and I laugh