Katherine
I love how I can just walk into the studio without an invitation. It’s got that feel of trust between us. I love that I can hear the sound of his voice anytime I want to; I could listen to him all day. I wonder who…oh, he’s talking on the phone.
Did he just say – ? I stop to listen.
I catch only those last words.
“…Katherine’s not to know. Promise me. OK?”
I am not to know what? Is this a red flag? Is this the time to back out? Had Dale been right all along? The fear that’s always just below the surface threatens to overwhelm me.
Move, I tell myself. Part of me wonders if this is the time to turn and run. But where will I run to? I take a deep breath.
“Hey Blake, I heard you talking to someone just now. What am I not supposed to know?”
“Hey baby.”
I study his face carefully. There’s not a hint of guilt in it.
“It’s a surprise. My lips are sealed.” As if to underline his point he points to his lips, which he has pulled into a thin line.
“Look Blake,” I hesitate. “I’m not that big on surprises. I find they are highly overrated.” I try to keep my voice light. I don’t want to make too much of this. But I really don’t like surprises.
Surprises are great when you’re a kid, like you got your first bicycle, or when the man in the red suit brought you your favorite Barbie doll. But grown up girls don’t always take to guy surprises, particularly if they are in the form of the ex-boyfriend in bed with another woman.
“Hey,” he says and comes toward me.
He’s looking right at me with a hungry expression, like he really wants me, like he’s almost begging me. I can see right into his eyes. If there was anything hidden surely I would see it there.
“Hey, c’mon,” he repeats and strokes my cheek. “How can I surprise you if you already know what I’m talking about?”
He advances on me like something wild. How does he do that? I’m just frozen as this wild hunk approaches me like some lethal tiger. That pleading voice and that soft dangerous stride toward me make me melt.
“The thing about surprises is, they are a surprise.”
He runs his finger down my nose, slowly over my lip and down my chin, his touch light as a whisper. I try not to shudder as he traces his finger along my shoulder and down
I feel my skin tingling. I want this touch. I want him to go lower. I feel tight and loose all at once. His finger dances around my hips and I feel his hand stop at my waist.
His other hand goes under my chin and to lift it. He dips in closer and I wait for his kiss. His lip brushes on mine ever so softly.
Now I feel the slight pressure of his hand on my back and I fall in against him. I want more of him. I want his mouth open. I want the feel of his tongue. I want his hand lower.
I run my hands around his back and feel the taut pillar of his body. He feels firm and warm, smooth and round and I want to let my hands go down to his buttocks and to pull him in tighter to me.
I can feel myself melting; all of my worries are slipping away. I want nothing more than for him to takes his hands lower.
His upper hand leaves my chin. He runs it slowly luxuriously, over my neck and collarbone until he finds my breasts. He slides it under my arm and drops it suddenly. Both of his hands are now spread over my butt and he draws me in.
This is out of control. I’m frantic with desire.
We have to stop.
“As I recall,”’ I start but his lips shut me up. This time his tongue finds mine instantly.
His hands leave their position and make their back up toward my breasts.
“I thought we were going to do some work.” I manage to say but my own voice is lacking conviction. Sure, I came in here to pose for him so that he finishes the painting, but now…
“I am working,” he mutters.
I throw my head back, giggling.
“There’s a distinct lack of paint brush.” I point out.
Blake stops. He moves his hands off my breasts.
My body aches for his touch. Please don’t stop I want to beg but I don’t. If this painting is to be finished Blake needs to keep painting.
“I thought the painting was of a nude.”
I know Blake plays havoc with my thoughts but I’m not following.
Registering the confusion on my face Blake starts kissing my face and neck, his mouth moving down to my breasts.
“I’m just helping you undress and get into the mood.” He says between bites.
It is difficult to form any coherent thought.
‘“I don’t think this is going to work.” I make another attempt at getting Blake to focus on his painting. As much as I want this, I know he wants to finish this artwork too. And I’d very much like to see the finished painting.
Blake stops again. My skin burns with desire where his lips had been.
I feel him look at me.
“I know your body so well, Katherine; I don’t need you to pose. I can finish the painting from the memory. Each and every part of your body is etched into my mind forever.”
He kisses me again and his hands resume their wandering.
Before I give in I try one last time to be the sensible one.
“So you’re not going to paint me today?”
His lips are near my ear, nibbling on my ear lobe.
“Right now I’ve got more important things to do. Right now, I just want to be inside you.”