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Griffin

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I know exactly why Piper Ellis is standing in my office in a gorgeous red dress. Her boss shared the good news.

I spotted Piper’s drawing on display when I walked through the gallery on my way up to the studio for class last night. It caught my immediate attention because on that massive wall of framed sketches, it was the only one that showcased the nude body of a woman.

I went back this morning to buy it. It’s an intriguing piece.

Her gaze darts around my office, before it lands on the drawing in question. It’s now hung above a brown leather couch in a seating area I reserve for client meetings. I had the maintenance staff take care of it immediately after I arrived here from the gallery.

“You bought my sketch,” she says quickly as she looks back at me.

“You’re welcome, Piper.”

She holds her clutch purse close to her stomach. “Why did you buy it?”

I don’t move from where I’m standing even though I want to stalk toward her. I don’t trust that I won’t reach out to touch her. “I view it as a solid investment.”

That lures her two steps closer to me. “How so?”

“You’re obviously talented.” I stand up straight shoving my hands into the front pockets of my pants. “The value of that piece will only increase, no?”

She looks at the framed sketch again. “It will. I’m still surprised that a man like you has any interest in art at all.”

If it’s an insult, she’s delivered it with a small smile. I push for clarification because the cat and mouse game we’re playing is making me hard. “A man like me? Expand on that.”

She closes the remaining distance to my desk with several sure steps. “Your office is devoid of any emotion, except for my sketch which you only bought today. Typically, people who appreciate art do so because they see something in it that others don’t.”

“I see a beautiful woman.” I nod toward the sketch.

She glances at it before her gaze falls to the floor. “I see more.”

I round my desk at a leisurely pace until I’m standing behind her. She doesn’t move to turn. I lean forward so my breath whispers over her long slender neck. I want to pull the pins from her hair and watch the brown waves tumble around her shoulders, but I bite back the urge. “Tell me what you see.”

She looks to the side. It gives me a perfect view of her profile. Small nose, soft angled brow and a set of perfectly plump lips that would feel like heaven wrapped around my dick.

“I see vulnerability.”

So do I when I look at her.

“What else?” I question as I inch closer to her back.

Her eyes dart to mine before she skims the sketch again. “Pain. Look at her face. You see that she’s been hurt.”

I close my eyes briefly. I know all too well what pain looks like. I see it every morning when I look in the mirror.

“She wants to love herself but she can’t.” She slicks her tongue over her bottom lip. “She’s trying to hide her imperfections. That’s why she has her arms draped over her stomach.”

I take another look at the drawing. The woman in it is stunning. Most people who took a quick glance at the sketch would consider her body perfect. “Did she tell you all of this when you drew her?”

That turns her on her heel until she’s facing me. She looks up. “No. I felt it when I drew her. I see it now when I look at the sketch.”

“What do you see when you look at me?”

She tries to step back, but the desk stops her. She drops her clutch on it before she grips the edge with her hands. “What do you mean? I see a lawyer.”

I move forward, pinning both my hands next to hers. She doesn’t flinch when I lean close and whisper, “You see more than that.”

“Anger. Disappointment. Pain.”

My eyes squeeze shut. “Everyone feels those things.”

Her breath sweeps over my lips as my eyes open and lock on her hers. “At others. You feel it within. It’s directed at yourself.”

I suck in a heavy breath. She’s either insightful beyond her years or a mind reader.

“You’re not denying, counselor.” She looks at my lips.

I inch forward almost brushing my mouth against hers. I need to change the fucking subject before more of my soul is bared to this woman. “Has anyone ever drawn you nude, Piper?”

Her left brow pops up in surprise. “That’s none of your business.”

“Answer the question.” My shoulders tighten.

She sucks in a breath. “Yes.”

“Who?”

Her eyes lock on mine before she looks toward the floor. “One of my professors.”

She’s not as difficult to read as I thought. The dilated pupils, the slight increase in breathing, the break in our gaze. They’re all indicative of guilt. I’ve seen it enough times in my work. A cheating husband, an unfaithful wife, a Swiss bank account funded by a business one spouse didn’t realize existed. “You slept with him.”

Her lips part and a breathy gasp escapes. “I’m not talking about this.”

My cock swells even more with the mental image of her being fucked from behind in a studio much like the one she teaches in now. “Was it before or after he drew you?”

Her hands leap from the desk and land on my chest. She doesn’t push back. She’s not anxious to escape the cage I’ve trapped her in. “You can’t ask me that.”

“I can and I have.” I lean even closer until I can taste her breath when she exhales. “It was before, wasn’t it? He fucked you and then he took to his easel and captured his conquest.”

“It wasn’t like that,” she protests with a weak bump of her fist to the middle of my chest. “I wasn’t his conquest.”

“What was it like, Piper?” My grip on the desk tightens as I fight back the urge to claim her mouth with mine. “Tell me what it was like.”

Her voice is unsteady as her gaze falls to my lips. “He was my conquest. I’m the one who seduced him.”