Blake
What the…?
Am I hearing right? Is there an asshole inside Katherine’s apartment right now? It sure seems so.
I can’t say I was expecting that. I drove all the way here to show her the sketch I did of her, and now there’s some random jackass to deal with it.
Ah, fuck it.
Raising my fist, I’m about to rap my knuckles against her door when it suddenly swings open. My eyes meet Katherine’s right away, and I can’t help but enjoy the surprise on her face. She wasn’t expecting to see me here.
“You won’t last long,” the guy standing next to her mutters, stepping out the door and pushing me out of the way. I take one step back to let him through, but something in his tone of voice strikes a chord inside me.
Before he can leave, I reach for him and grab him by the scruff of his shirt.
“Play nice, asshole,” I tell him, turning on my heels to meet his gaze.
Judging by the way his eyes widen as I grab him, I’d say he wasn’t expecting me to do that. No, he wasn’t. This is the kind of guy who’s used to having everything he wants at a drop of a hat.
“I know you,” he says, looking at me with a disgusted expression on his face. “Blake,” he continues, my name leaving his mouth like a curse.
“Well, I know you too,” I find myself saying, suddenly recognizing his smug face. This guy is the owner of some bullshit gallery where I once held an exposition. I remember the arrogant prick and the way he looked at my paintings.
“So you’re the one fucking her, aren’t you?” he asks me, his eyes never leaving mine.
I react without thinking. I close the distance between us, grab him by the collar of his shirt, and push him back against the wall.
“Listen here, you fuckin’ asshole,” I growl, trying to resist the urge to introduce him to my fist. “I don’t give two shits about you, got that? But you’ll respect her,” I continue, slightly nodding toward Katherine.
She’s standing by the doorway, looking at us both with an expression that tells me she has no idea on what to say or do.
“You can’t—”
I don’t even let him finish his sentence. I tighten my grip on his shirt and lean toward him.
“I know how little shits like you enjoy treating women,” I tell him, making sure I take my time with each and every word. “But you’ve heard the lady—leave and never come back.”
He stops for a moment, almost as if he’s trying to process the meaning behind my words, and then he finally lowers his gaze.
Submission.
I finally let go of his shirt and take a step back, although my gaze never leaves him. I don’t know why, but coming here and finding a man (and one like this fuckin’ asshole) inside Katherine’s apartment has my blood boiling. Besides, it doesn’t help that I overheard most of their argument.
“Well, I guess you finally got your knight in shining armor, haven’t you?” he says, looking over my shoulder at Katherine, his beady eyes glinting with malice. “Just so you know, you’re probably just the flavor of the month for this guy. If you think I’m bad, you’re in for a surprise with him.”
That does it for me.
I can hear Katherine saying something, but I can’t even register her words. Flavor of the month? Who does this asshole think he is?
Taking one step toward him, I ball my right hand into a fist. I cock my arm back, and everything around me starts moving slowly. I can see it happening before it happens—my fingers meeting his nose and that asshole tumbling back as he clutches his bloody nose.
That’ll probably cost me, since he’s well connected in the gallery business. But fuck it.
“No!” I hear Katherine say, and I feel her delicate hands grabbing me by the arm. I stop the moment I hear her voice, my fist just a fraction of a second from breaking Dale’s nose.
“Saved by the bell,” I whisper at him, and this time there’s no smart comeback. His beady eyes can’t hide the fear he’s feeling (and he should be afraid of me), and so he just turns on his heels and disappears from sight as fast as he possibly can without running.
“Are you okay?” I ask Katherine the moment Dale leaves, turning around to meet her. My eyes meet her velvety lips at once, and my heart picks up the pace faster than I can take in her beauty. Fuck, I just want to grab her by the waist, pin her against the wall, and kiss her.
“I am now,” she breathes out softly, and that makes me relax. “What are you doing here, Blake?”
“I came to give you something,” I reply, suddenly realizing that I’m not sure about what I’m doing.
I never chased someone like this. And I’m not just talking about the fact that I want Katherine; I’m saying that I never went after anyone because my art demanded it.
But that has changed.
Because everything in me calls for her. I need to kiss her, to hold her close against me…
And, more than that, I need to paint her.